This gallery contains 13 photos.
On the weekend of the 2nd of December, my partner Denis, my dog Kahlua, and Den’s kids – Chelsea and Mason, and myself hit the road for the 8 hour drive to Kalgoorlie. It was the kids first trip to … Continue reading
One of my main goals for 2011 was to put my health first, and to not go through another year constantly stressed, with recurrent colds, stomach upsets and endless fatigue.
If you have followed me at all this year, you would know that I tanked so badly at it, it’s not funny.
BUT
I must give myself some credit for noticing the error of my ways before 2011 ticked over to 2012 – and a few months early at that!
Quitting the old job, going part-time in the new job, eating better, seeing a naturopath, commencing light exercise, pushing back on…everything…Sure I went a bit too hard with the whole ‘changing my life thing’ to start with, but I do now believe that I am heading towards a more balanced life.
Which brings me to last weekend, where I took some time out. On Friday I drove to Yallingup, a coastal town about 4 hours south of Perth, to spend a long weekend with some of my family, notably my sister-in-law Rachel, and my beautiful nieces Charlotte – 3 – and Emily – 8 months.
Yallingup beach
I had the best time hitting the road by myself, allowing the country and ocean air to successfully rid my brain of its cobwebs.
It was wonderful eating great food and spending some quality time with my sister, brother and their friends.
My brother Luke and I
It was relaxing spending a girly night with my sister-in-law watching ‘chick flicks’.
It was absolutely joyous just being with my nieces, especially little Charlotte who has succeeded in stealing my heart.
My niece Charlotte and I
And it was satisfying spending time with my man (who joined us a day later) and my camera (I took 140 photos in the first day).
I thoroughly enjoyed the time out from my day-to-day life, from chores, from the internet (I even managed to go internet and computer-less throughout the entire weekend), from my brain and stress…I even managed to get a healthy dose of Vitamin D!
Sun, surf and sand - Yalingup
I vow to myself to do this more from now. Lucky for me there’s another road trip planned this coming weekend! On Friday Denis and I hit the road, on a 7 hour drive to Kalgoorlie with his 2 kiddies and our dog. From breathtaking beaches one weekend to the striking vastness of a mining town. It is with this thought that I realise I really do love this country after all.
The long country road to Kalgoorlie
Today’s post for ‘The Beauty of Difference’ series comes from yours truly 
Janine, The Bogan Teenager
Wikipedia defines the term bogan as:
‘Australian slang, usually pejorative or self-deprecating, for an individual who is recognised to be from a lower class background or someone whose limited education, speech, clothing, attitude and behaviour exemplifies such a background’.
Interesting.
I’ve never quite thought of myself or my family that way…I mean, we wore black Faberge jeans and flannelette shirts. My Dad rode motor bikes, wandered around with a pack of Winnie blues up his sleeve, and loved to drink rum. We all loved rock music. And yes – we didn’t have a lot of money.
In the 80′s we lived in a mining town called Kalgoorlie, populated by men with tattoos who road large, loud motor bikes, and came home every day from working in the mines – and having stopped at the local TAB to place a bet on the races – grotty and smelling like oil and beer. The women, well, half of them did it tough looking after their families, and rarely themselves. The other half worked in the infamous Hay Street brothels or as ‘skimpy‘ (scantily clad) barmaids.
I spent a lot of time riding my bike on the big, wide roads or gravel tracks, ‘growing’ frogs in the steel drum at my friends place, staging dance concerts to Mum on the wood pylons lying on the back yard (notably to the Bangles ‘Manic Monday’), and freaking out at the site of a monster red/orange centipede.
As kids, my brother, sister and I hung out at the pub with our folks and their friends, listening to Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin and The Doors, trying to imitate the adults by playing pool and darts, or wishing we could get lucky on the used bingo cards lying around the place. We also sat around the open fire in the bush at night, listening to music, the reverberations from the sounds of the motorbikes going through your chest, pretending to sleep, but really waiting for the spuds (potatoes) to cook under the ashes – only to be slathered by butter and salt and devoured.
Sure, it wasn’t paradise, and it certainly wasn’t all good, but I’m grateful for growing up the way I did. It taught me the value of money – especially thinking back to Mum skipping meals so that she could feed her three kids baked beans on toast – and then worrying about what to feed the three dogs.
It taught me not to not judge people by appearances – ‘scruffy’ people, or people who rode bikes, wore black or looked rough, well they can turn out to be the most funniest, lovely or most philosophical people.
It also taught me to care for every living thing – so much so that I can’t even kill an ant. Mum and Dad brought home injured birds and lizards, we had horses. Mum tried to resuscitate a chicken once because it accidentally drowned.
But, most of all it taught me to be grateful for what I’ve got, for the family I have, to not be embarrassed of my roots, and that simple really is best.
This gallery contains 4 photos.
For those in my home town of Perth, well, we all know it’s been a pretty horrendous week for the dreaded hay-fever. I mean, even people who have never suffered – even slightly – from hay-fever before, well, they are … Continue reading
 Piriye Piriye Altraide is an African-born Aussie, who was mostly raised in Perth but classifies herself as ‘a child of the world.’ In Piri’s words: ‘I love to travel, write and experience culture and the arts. Currently occupying my days is accountancy, but I’m hoping to eventually write full-time. Rotaract and volunteering are also a huge part of my life. Not so secretly, I’m toying with the idea of the ‘great move’ to Melbourne, lured by the suggestion of greater culture and passion. There’s only one way to find out!Finally I believe you only live once, so one must ‘Carpe Diem’!” |
When at first I took out my hair extensions… The long ones I had in before the beginning of this year, well, I expected to feel this sudden sense of freedom. Like “Yes, go civil rights! Time for a return to the *natural* woman.” That kind of thing you know, rah di rah. Instead I felt strangely the opposite. So burdened. A slave-like person reflected back at me from the mirror.
It was like I was weighted down and encumbered by this hair. This hair that seemed to hold us back. Back to this imposed position of “lower than thou”. Not beautiful enough, says the Western world. So meagre. So plain. So “slave”.
I tried to then think how to focus on the face. The eyes, the lips… to be brought to focus. So that people wouldn’t notice the hair. A challenge for me. Something a little different for me. Which was good. It was forcing me to think outside the box.
For those who haven’t had the dilemma of “good hair” this may seem… strange. “What would help is understanding…” Because then it wouldn’t be awkward or weird to try and describe it. Because then there would simply be an understanding. Without the need for any words…
And yet, from this single moment I felt more words pouring out of me. Forming within me. Something I always wanted to say, and express. As the new year dawned on me, as again I attempted to tackle this recurring demon of ‘identity’. Discovering who I needed to be. And so as usual I let the thoughts flow. Tamed, for your convenience, but not fully unrestrained…
“I want to be an interpreter of diversity,
An investigator of human psychology,
Philosophy.
I want to document the “ways”, and “why’s” and “how’s”.
The “if’s”, the “buts”, the “now’s”.
Why people think the way they do,
The mysteries of the human view.
To BE
To SEE
To DO.”
“No, I don’t want to do anything more. Go anywhere.
I just want to sit down and write… Write about expectations.
Write about what people expect of me.
Write about what should and shouldn’t be.”
I truly believe you should see a person for who they are, hold them accountable for who they are, before you even see what colour you are. Expect from me based on the person I am, and not based on any background. Any creed. Any race. Or, not expect at all.
Whether I should be expected to like African guys, or not like African guys?
Whether I should like hip hop, or not like hip hop?
Whether I follow more post rock,
Indie,
Punk,
Jazz,
Blues,
Pop,
Soul…
Or any other genre.
Or whether I don’t.
Whether I dress classy,
Or whether I chuck on some high-top sneakers.
Or punk chains.
Whether I do or not…
(I finally realised)
Is up to me.
It’s up to… me!
So whosoever would try, stop putting me in a box.
Whether I bounce to Raggamuffin,
Or rock out to Big Day Out.
Just because you see my skin
There is suddenly a list of expectations
Of what I should do,
Or be?
Instead I’m sorry- I’m just me.
And whatever I choose to be, I be!
And so accept that… Accept that that is me!
Finally, I stop feeling guilty about it. I don’t have to be static in one genre, taste or image. I can be whoever I like, whenever I like, and that’s it. And that’s me. If one day I want to put on the African hat – fine. That should be accepted. Another day I become European, then fine. No crap about it. No qualms. Only be broad-minded.
To accept that people are influenced by so many cultures in all. That really, we are children of the world. Not one race or another, but a wonderful fusion of whatever we choose to accept and grasp and love as our own. And let each one be to whatever part of that he or she so-ever chooses. Leave them be. And let them take. And let them love. For their own.
***
Then, well, it was at that point – I had to look in the mirror and accept what I saw. I had to look in the mirror and say: “This is me… and I’m not ashamed.”
We all need to do that, every once in the while. To look in the mirror, and accept you. To look in the mirror and finally say, with overwhelming relief: “This is me… And I’m not ashamed.”
It is my pleasure to introduce you to Ambreen, a dear friend of mine.
I got to know Ambreen through work, and during a 6 month-long Young Women‘s Leadership Program in 2010 (with 23 other women from cultural and linguistically diverse backgrounds). It was an amazing experience, of which I am thankful that along with learning a lot, the program resulted in the development of many beautiful friendships, as well as the strengthening of the friendship I have with Ambreen. It has also paved the way for the start of this series titled ‘The Beauty Of Difference’.
Heritage
I have a fairly multicultural background. I am about 3rd or 4th generation born Kenyan, and my ancestry can be traced to the Middle East, Asia and even all the way back to East Europe.
Coming from a mixed background, and also not entirely ‘belonging’ in one particular place, I have chosen to take the principles of my religion as my culture (although background / culture and religion are two different things). I choose to be known as a Muslim first, because this allows me to be a human being first, and then sub divided into different races, backgrounds, etc.
Coming to Australia
I was born and raised in Kenya, and moved to Australia in 2004 when I was 19, with my Mum, Dad and elder Brother. Before coming to Australia, I had never been to another country – not even for a visit. So Australia was the first overseas country I ever traveled to. I came in peak summer and it was really warm and everything was brand new. I struggled with this for a while.
Perth, Australia
What I liked about Australia was how laid-back things were. Things are so fast passé even in Africa, but coming to the city of Perth, well – there was a certain peace.
The most challenging part about the move was trying to learn everything from scratch. From getting used to the currency, the roads (I can’t tell you how many times we have gotten lost), to some heavy Australian accents.
Cultural Beauty
The most beautiful thing about my culture is the importance the family unit plays. Our family members are always at the forefront of every decision, every occasion and every difficult moment in our lives. Children grow up knowing each other, and always have support they can rely on. Nowadays, where peer pressure, bullying, etc. are a challenge in society, I do believe that having a solid family support system allows children to grow up to become stronger adults.
Tradition
One of my favourite traditional events is a religious event, and that is the month of fasting. In Arabic, it is called Ramadan. It is a month where we give up food and drink during the day (day light hours only). This teaches us self-control, humility, empathy towards the less fortunate, along side being in the worship of God.
The reason it is my favourite event is not only because of the cleansing of the body (physically and spiritually – and subsequent fat loss), but because of the thought that every Muslim around the world is taking part in the global event at the same time, an event that brings us all together regardless of language, location, financial status, etc.
Cultural Misconceptions
As mentioned before, having taken my religion (Islam) as my culture, it is no surprise that the one thing that is a misconception is the idea that Islam is radical and that Islam preaches ideas of terror.
Fortunately, it is just that – a misconception. Islam actually teaches peace, and promotes intellect and reasoning. It also teaches the value of human beings, as is stated in the following verse in the holy book – the Quran:
“Whoever kills a person [unjustly]…it is as though he has killed all mankind. And whoever saves a life, it is as though he had saved all mankind.” (Qur’an, 5:32)
The Beauty In Difference
I share with you quote from the Holy Quran to show why it is important to embrace difference:
“O mankind! We created you from a single (pair) of a male and a female, and made you into nations and tribes, that ye may know each other (not that ye may despise (each other). Verily the most honoured of you in the sight of God is (he who is) the most righteous of you. And God has full knowledge and is well acquainted (with all things)”.
The one thing I believe people should know is of the respect that Muslim men and women have for the opposite gender. It is because of this respect that we avoid physical contact with people outside the family. It is the case of being aware of ones personal space and it is for that reason that many do not shake hands with the opposite sex. It is not out of disrespect, but on the contrary - out of respect and humility.
A Picture Says A Thousand Words
The picture I am sharing is one of the grand mosque in Mecca. The reason I choose this picture is that this shows the celebration of multiculturalism.
the grand mosque, mecca
I visited this mosque several years ago, and stood shoulder to shoulder with people from different races and backgrounds, some who I could communicate with in English, while others spoke a different language. However there was still peace and understanding. The picture tries to capture the unity celebrated in this vicinity; the white and black specs are in fact people. At one time, there can be about 3 million people gathered.
Words of Wisdom
The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said:
“Be kind, for whenever kindness becomes part of something, it beautifies it. Whenever it is taken from something, it leaves it tarnished.“
— Imam Bukhari’s Book of Muslim Manners
This quote for me is just a reminder of the importance of being kind to one another, and is a reminder of kindness.
If you would like to be a part of ‘The Beauty of Difference’ series, please contact me at janine.ripper@gmail.com.
I would love to share your story.
Whilst I was at University in 1997 I dated a Chinese boy. To me, he was just a guy who had the same interest in creative writing as me, and was studying Radio Broadcasting with a good friend of mine. We hit it off. He made me laugh. He also wanted to read my writing. No one had ever wanted to read my writing before. It was terrifying. And then he asked me out. That was even more terrifying, as I’d never had a boyfriend before. I decided to take the plunge and said yes.
For our first date he took me to dinner at a quaint little restaurant. I think it was Italian, as back then Italian was my favourite food, and it was all about me : ) I don’t remember much else, apart from one thing – the looks we were getting, from most people. A pale red-head girl and a tall, lanky Chinese boy sitting at the same table in a romantic restaurant – how so?
Those looks continued throughout our brief relationship, and I couldn’t quite understand it back then, as to me we are all people. Even when I met his mother and she called me an ‘evil Western girl’ who would ‘corrupt’ her son – well, I couldn’t understand that either.
We didn’t last, but it wasn’t because of those ‘against’ us. It was because I wasn’t ready for a relationship, and had issues to deal with (plus I preferred him as a friend, minus the complications of intimacy and all that guff).
So it was a surprise when, whilst out at lunch with Denis on Monday (in the year 2011) – enjoying my first official day of unemployment at a cafe on the coast – we got looks. Denis had gone up to the counter to order, and I was sitting in the sun, soaking it and my new-found freedom up. I looked over to Denis, glowing with this strange feeling (happiness?), and there was a woman looking from me, to Denis, back to me, to Denis, back to me, to Denis. She had a look of confusion combined with slight distaste on her face. I caught her eye and gave her a look that hinted at the following: ‘Yes – a pale, red-head woman AND an Anglo-Indian man TOGETHER at lunch…’ Now I’m not usually a smart-ass, and that wasn’t the ‘look’ I was going for, but in this day and age, in the world we live in – especially in Australia which is as multi-cultural as they come – you would think we wouldn’t get these looks still.
I could think about it this way though, which is what Denis tells me to think on occassion – we are just one good-looking couple…
Denis & Janine
Yes, that’s it!
On a serious note though, it is moments like these that have spawned me onto starting ‘The Beauty of Difference’ series. And so, to all of those onlookers, I say thank you. You are my inspiration.
Have you experienced anything like this? Why? How did you feel?
If you would like to be a part of ‘The Beauty of Difference’ series, please contact me at janine.ripper@gmail.com.
I would love to share your story.
The honour of my first interview for ‘The Beauty of Difference’ series on Reflections From a Red Head goes to my dear friend Siti.
I met Afifah Mohd Salehan – nicknamed ‘Siti’ – during a 7 month Young Women Leadership Program in 2010. I was immediately taken by her enthusiasm, generosity, sense of humour, and the beauty that shone through.
Siti is currently studying for a Bachelor of Psychology, turns 22 soon, and is the oldest (and shortest) of 6 siblings – 5 girls and 2 boys.
Heritage
Siti’s Father is Javanese (from Jawa Island, located in Indonesia) and her Mother is Malay. She describes herself as ‘half Malay, half Indo’, a fact of which she only just found out this year after going back to Malaysia to visit some of her family. She had not been aware that her Father was Javanese, and that he could speak Jawa – a native Indonesian language. This initially made Siti feel lost, and made her question what else she did not know about her family. Today, it makes her want to explore her heritage even further – she just doesn’t know where to start!
New Beginnings
Siti and her family came to Australia in 1994 when she was 3. At the time Siti could not speak a word of English. She recalls at the time wondering why people didn’t wear head scarves, and it wasn’t until she grew older (around year 5-6 years old) that she became conscious of people having different faiths, etc. Her mind was still in the progress of processing and understanding how the world worked.
Being ‘Different’
Siti recalls certain ‘memorable moments’ when she was young where she was perceived as ‘different’. At the age of 7, she was in the super market and a little boy – about her age – just kept looking at her. She also remembers overhearing a little girl asking her Mum why ‘she had that thing on her head’. It was nice to hear the Mum explain to the daughter that Siti was Muslim, and that she wore the head scarf because of her faith. Unfortunately, even in the present day, she still gets stared at for what she wears.
Cultural Beauty
Siti believes the most beautiful thing about Islam is that as long as they posses a sound relationship with ‘Allah’ (God), then everything is okay. Siti explains that without him she would be lost. He plays an important role in her life – like a councillor in a way:
‘If there is no one to turn to, there is always prayers, and by the end of the day I get my answers – be it from other people, or from inside myself (the ‘unconscious process’ in psychology terms).’
Cultural Misconceptions
To Siti, the biggest misconception about her culture is regarding arranged marriages. Some people actually believe that within her culture parents arrange marriages for their children. Siti explains that within Islam, it is actually recognised that you DO have the right to choose who your partner is – as long as he is a Muslim and has faith in God.
Another misconception is that of the headscarf. Siti explains that rules are provided by Allah as to the where and how a woman is to wear a scarf, and for her – in a way – the scarf is protection. By wearing the headscarf, people understand that she doesn’t drink alcohol, do drugs, and it also protects her from sexual harassment. It also provides Siti with a feeling of security. As to where she should wear a head scar, she explains that it needs to be worn in the presence of someone she could marry (i.e. a man). She actually doesn’t have to wear it in her own backyard or around her family, or in the presence of other females.
The other cultural misconception is that all Muslims are terrorists. Siti has had the experience of being approached by a man at a train station, cursing and accusing her of bombing various places. This was, to Siti, scary and intimidating. It made her sad, and she cried a lot. (Note from author: This actually happened to my partner, who is Anglo-Indian – he is a tall, 40 something year old man. Siti is tiny, and doesn’t look like she could hurt a fly.)
Words of Wisdom
I am asking everyone I interview to share some of their ‘words of wisdom’ as I believe quotes hold such power. This is one Siti shared with me:
‘A girls dream is to be perfect and to feel beautiful all of the time. A guys dream is to prove to himself and to the world that he is a true leader and that he is a leading man.’
To Siti, this quote expresses the importance to a girl in feeling beautiful and special. It is a shame that a lot of people forget about that, with many girls starving themselves to attain what is perceived as the ‘perfect’ image as is portrayed in many magazines and on the cat walk.
What is it people should know?
Siti displays so many characteristics I adore – along with her youth and exuberance, she displays such wisdom and humour. I wanted to know what it was that she wanted others to be aware of, and here is what she shared with me:
‘Just because I’m covered, it doesn’t mean that I am always warm. I do have my moments in winter when I shiver and am freezing…And just because I wear a scarf all of the time doesn’t mean my head is always warm – it does get cold!’
And with that, I will leave you to ponder Siti’s final words:
‘When communicating with people, don’t judge them. Treat people how you want to be treated. Prophet Muhammed says a true Muslim is one who loves people because of the way they want to be loved, the way they want to be treated’.
If you would like to be a part of ‘The Beauty of Difference’ series, please contact me. I would love to share your story.
Image via Wikipedia
How this quote amuses me so.
I found this quote last weekend during a good old Google search. I was all inspired after hearing the Dalai Lama speak, live and in the flesh in Perth, and wanted to read more on his thoughts (I would have bought a book but the queues at the venue were incredible – a true test of patience of which I bowed out of due to the somewhat aggressive nature of the people in the queue…the irony).
The Dalai Lama certainly does come out with some gems, and I love it even moreso when he follows what he says with his little chuckle. I can just imagine it now – being questioned by an audience about making a difference, and coming out with the one liner - ”If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito hehehehe” and the audience chuckling with him, whilst nodding in agreement at the same time.
And I tell you this now – my partner can profess to the difference a mosquito can make. They certainly know how to, especially at night when he is trying to go to sleep. It can be quite funny, until he gets the insect spray out that is.
#PBAU
A good blogging buddy (and partner in crime) – Hajra Khatoon – and I recently started a 3 month blogging challenge. The aim of our challenge was to gather together an intimate group of personal bloggers to help shine the focus on the awesome-ness of personal bloggers for we felt that they weren’t getting the attention they deserved. We decided to call the group ‘Personal Bloggers Are Us (#PBAU)’ after struggling to come up with a name for it (finding a Twitter hash tag that hasn’t been used is really hard!). Just 2 weeks into the challenge, our expectations have already been exceeded.
This week we posed a challenge to the 24 participants:
‘Share with the PBAU group your FIRST EVER blog post’.
We thought it would be interesting for every one to see how they started out blogging and how everyone had ‘developed’ in their blogging life – be it a short or long one.
In light of that, here is the first ever blog post of mine on this blog - Beginnings, published on 26 September 2010.
And here is my first EVER blog post, of which I wrote for an online community called Emergen (of which I’m now the Blogging Coordinator for), published 9 June 2010:
We can all learn from the ‘leaders’ we happen to come across throughout our lives, be it in politics, our families, work, university, church, etc.
Whether it be from the good they do, or the mistakes they make, some valuable insights can be picked up by merely observing and taking note. These things we observe can then be used to help ourselves grow as future leaders, and succeed in being the best we can be.
I’ve pondered my own experiences lately, and here are some tips that I’ve picked up over the years which may be useful to you are:
And remember –
- Jim Rohn