Australia is a lonely place to come back to. I just spent 3 and a half weeks in New Caledonia and I had the time of my life, possibly the best month of my life. I went because I was feeling stressed here and I felt I needed to get out of the country, take a rest and refuel for the new year at Uni.
While I was there I felt like that was what I was doing. I did a lot of very restful things and I felt my entire body relax. The tension went out of my back. The headaches went. My breathing eased. But I have come back and I feel lonely, depressed and bored. There is nothing to do here.
Although I have filled my mobile phonebook with friends’ names and numbers, when is anybody ever free? Before leaving, one of my closer friends and I agreed we had to make an effort to see each other more frequently this year. So we made an agreement to meet up once a month. In Brisbane, that’s what “frequently” means.
I really don’t feel like there is any such thing as a social fabric over here. It’s all very well for us to have lots more money and to own lots of things, but do I enjoy it? Am I enjoying the one and only life I have? Or am I spending it working away to gain the things I would enjoy if I had the time?
I was truly amazed by how well in place the social fabric was in Noumea. There is a real sense of community there. People care about each other and do things for each other. They share their things and they know lots of people the town over. Because of this, they enjoyed their lives. There were so many smiles everywhere, and for the entire month you could barely wipe the smile away from my face either.
In Brisbane, the contrast couldn’t be greater. It is an incredibly individualistic society. Walk through the city and nobody looks at each other as they pass, the edges of their lips downturned or straight at best. Wander the streets of suburbia and nobody knows their neighbours and everyone stays within the confines of their homes.
During a month, I have watched less than an hour of television. I spent my evenings chatting with the people at the youth hostel, staying up til 12 or 1 every night. I know that this would not have happened to me if I lived in Noumea, but why is that? My life was so much more interesting when I had people to talk to every night. They were mostly the same people day in day out and we enjoyed each other’s company. Upon arriving back in Brisbane, all I can find to do is switch on the telly and watch some idiots drivel on about whatever. There is nothing real inside that box, but this is the closest we can get to socialising in this town.
In the afternoons I would head down to the “dodgy” suburbs, where I had come across a group of people who would head down to the local outdoor volleyball court every afternoon and play and chat and sing until the sun went down. I had a great time and met some wonderful friends there. They ranged from 7 years old to 25, and even a few of the parents. Age little mattered, what mattered was people. Everyone cared about each other and they spent several hours of each day in each other’s company. We shared food and drink around freely, with everything basically belonging to everybody. Yet they had not lost their sense of being an individual within that group. When I sprained my ankle, many made an effort to come and sit with me to chat and make sure I did not miss the last bus home. Everyone was greeted individually with a handshake. It is a feeling of belonging that I truly miss. I think I missed it before I went but it was only in travelling overseas that I realised what exactly it was that was the matter, because over there I found what I was looking for.