The following six Spanish immigrant stories reveal the personal memories of our dear friends Alfonso, Carmen, Faustino, Fernando, Juanita and Pilar. They recall what it was like some 50 years ago to come to and set up home in a land so far away and so very different from what they knew.
These recollections of their life’s journey across time and cultures, like that of other immigrants depict a struggle with the language, food, customs and employment. Understandably, each considered the Spanish Club in the heart of Sydney as their home away from home. However, what make these stories unique are the personal and often painful relationships coexisting with this struggle to survive in a new environment.
We profoundly thank our dear friends for their honesty in sharing their stories. Also to the City of Sydney for supporting this oral history project to capture the Spanish dimension of a passing phase of societal change. Finally, thanks go to the volunteers of Spanish Community Care Association who have completed this project.
Hopefully, by appreciating someone’s story, we can better understand each other.
Maria Legaz & John Martin
Spanish Community Care Association
Alfonso
Alfonso in Bellevue Hill Sydney, 1973.
I am from Malaga, Andalucía. I worked and completed my military service in Madrid. I was in a group of 4 friends and we thought about coming to Australia. I was younger than them and therefore had to wait until I had finished my military service.
Unfortunately, towards the end of my military service I was hit by a car and had to spend four months in a military hospital. I could not move or communicate. In order to see people I had to use a mirror. I really wanted to finish my military service and to come to Australia. My mother helped me leave the hospital but I wasn’t in any condition to leave. I remember that they did millions of x-rays. I had problems with my coxa and shoulder and I could not walk.
After I was released, my mother helped to teach me how to walk again. I started very slowly shuffling millimetres at a time with my feet. It took two to three weeks before I started to begin to move. I had to wear a brace to help improve my walking. I was very determined and had many dreams of walking again. I went and stayed with some friends in the country who helped me a great deal. Although I was in pain, I began to improve and finally achieved my goal.
In 1973, I had all the papers to emigrate to Australia. The plane only carried immigrants that were heading to Australia via Rome where we picked up Italian migrants. None of us had ever flown before. The funny thing was that none of the aircrew spoke Spanish. I loved languages so I went around helping everyone put on their seat belts and showed them where the toilets were. It was interesting and I lost all of my nervousness. We arrived in Tehran where they were at war. There was a huge commotion and we could not leave the plane. We could see the bombs falling. After about 7 hours we were able to leave Tehran airport. The journey took 37 hours and we were all very scared. We landed at Brisbane where a Spanish priest waited to greet us. It was the 3rd of June 1973.
They divided us into groups according to our migrant applications. I had put Sydney, so I was transferred like a normal passenger. The pilot had flown us over Sydney so we could see it and we were all very appreciative as we could all see it was a beautiful city. My friend Jose was waiting for me. I was going to live with him at his house in Beverley Hills. He took me there via Vaucluse and Watsons Bay as he wanted to show me some of the sights of Sydney. It was very pleasant, but after 37 hours flying without sleep all I wanted to do was get home and have a coffee (Alfonso smiles).
I found Sydney very interesting and I adapted quickly. I was fascinated that it was June yet it was sunny and hot. The apartment was a high-rise and I could see the asphalt streets that were so hot there was a vapour after it rained. I was fascinated. I started to establish my life here. In the beginning I watched television to improve my English. The programmes I watched were American, but they helped me get a sense of the language. Initially there were four of us, Manolo, Luis, Ana and me. We would organise get-togethers with the people that we already knew and go out for dinner and meet more people.
My friend Jose had a jewellery business. I began to work with him, but of course he was just starting out and so I helped him. Since I could not afford to live on my own with what I earned I wanted to find extra work. Everyone told me that I should be a model. So I went to an agency and I began to do some photo shoots. The first photos I had taken were in 1973 when I had long hair. It was great money but as it wasn’t a regular income I looked for additional work. My friends helped me find work as a cleaner at night cleaning offices, that way I had they day free.
One of the funny things that happened to me was on my first day of work. Everyone went to a deli at lunch time. There were no cafes here in those times, where you could sit and eat your sandwich. In the deli there was a fridge with Coke and Fanta, and as I am Spanish I was used to having a beer with my lunch. I read “beer” on a bottle and so bought it. We all sat down to eat and I opened my beer and started to skull it. I spat it all out, because my can of beer was in fact “ginger beer”. I had no idea that beer was not sold in shops as it was in Spain. Since that day I have never had ginger beer or anything related to ginger. Everyone had a good laugh (Alfonso smiles).
I registered with a hospitality recruitment agent that hired staff for restaurants and clubs with live music. My first job was in a restaurant where they asked me to take a plate of green peas to each table. I was very nervous, and I forgot that there were three stairs leading down from the kitchen. I fell with all the peas (Alfonso smiles). Someone came straight away to help me and they said “Well go and collect the glasses over there”. They didn’t sack me and in fact they gave me lots of opportunities. I learned the skills of silver service and began to get more work through the agency. I ended up doing a lot of work in functions and hotels.
In 1976, I traveled around the world with a group of friends. We left Sydney for New Zealand. From there to we flew onto Tahiti and then Honolulu, New York, San Francisco and Europe. We lived in London for four months. At this point my money was running out. Because I was not an Australian citizen I couldn’t work in London, so I stayed home and cooked dinner whilst my friends worked. And of course as I had no money I could only afford to cook sausages. I learned how to cook sausages in a thousand ways! London was very expensive. We lived in an apartment where we paid £10 each week. There were seven of us including a couple that lived in the cupboard. The owner had split the house in half and there were some stairs going up to nowhere and some going down to nowhere. It was very interesting. I was able to explore England, and I loved it until my money ran out and I had to return to Sydney.
I also traveled around Australia quite a bit. Once I traveled to a town relatively close to here and I really liked it. The government had purchased an old school house and they were reforming it into a beautiful home. I was fascinated by the town and wondered if there is anything else for sale that I could buy. I was shown a house that was once a hospital for pregnant woman and mothers. I fell in love with it. I quickly said yes and bought it, and have had it ever since. Little by little I am fixing it up. I have two Merino sheep that help keep the grass down. I shear them from time to time and my neighbour uses the wool to make jumpers. I like Australia a lot. If I won the lottery, I would like to live six months here and six months in Spain.
Carmen
Carmen & sons in Madrid, 1965.
After I got I married my husband and I went to live with my parents. Later we had a little boy and therefore decided to live on our own in Murcia. Our first home was in a boarding house that was lovely but there wasn’t any running water. Because my son cried a lot I had to take him out to the street wrapped in a blanket so he wouldn’t wake the other boarders. In the end we rented an apartment.
My husband bought a dog for our son, he named it Lulu, which resulted in me having to take it and the baby down to the river to wash the clothes. One day, I came home to my husband and said, “Are you stupid, do you think that I came from Madrid to live like this?” I then picked up my son, packed my bag and went back to Madrid to live at my parent’s house. Two weeks later my husband followed. We initially rented a semi house but then we decided to emigrate from Spain.
Switzerland was the first country to be offered. My husband went first and I followed three months later with my son, as I had a contract to work. The Swiss government was very good to us and paid for our hotel and meals for the first three days so that we could rest. I soon began working in a gold watch factory, my husband in another. In Switzerland we lived really well, but as we earned more money my husband began to take a liking to racing cars. Even though he didn’t have a license to race, he did it anyway. He would get fined and each time the fines got bigger. We then decided to fill in the application forms to emigrate to Canada or Australia. I said to my husband, “Here in Switzerland we are not doing anything. If this doesn’t change you are going to be on your own!” We decided to come to Australia where we rented a house and my husband started up a mechanic workshop.
When we arrived in Australia, I thought that this place was a disaster. In Switzerland I had a lovely home and it was a beautiful country. Here they put us in small rooms in a hostel. Apart from that, my son got a fever and I had to ring a Peruvian woman who helped me with doctors because I didn’t understand anything. I spoke French, Italian and Spanish but not English. At first, we experienced a lot of difficulties. At my children’s school the English-speaking children formed gangs and would hit our children. I had to go to the school to speak with the teachers. When I arrived at the school one of the mothers was waiting for me. She came after me and hit me because I rang the school. Thankfully another lady came to my assistance. When my husband heard about it, he wanted to go after them and took out his knife as usual. I told him that this wasn’t the way to fix things. I then went to the school office and they told me that the lady would not give me any more trouble. But for me that wasn’t enough, I wanted to have her charged. However, my husband and his knife didn’t help the matter. The authorities took the other mother’s side and in the end nothing happened, it was just forgotten. No more said.
In the hostel we made friends from all nationalities. At night we would sing, play the guitar and have a good time. It was easy for me to find work even though I didn’t speak English as I was a seamstress with industrial machine experience. Wherever I worked I felt appreciated. I worked for four years in a factory in Liverpool. The boss was very good to me, however I fell ill with heart problems and had to leave. After I recovered and was ready to return to work the boss came to my house with a big bunch of flowers and asked me to come back. I went back for a further four years until the factory closed.
My husband then began breeding Great Danes. Someone gave us a puppy and we crossed it with another dog producing eighteen puppies. We had to bottle-feed all of them because the mother had gotten an infection. Within three months the dogs were huge. We sold the puppies for $50 each. We then started to take them to shows and they always won. Some of the other breeders became suspicious of our fortune and were curious who we were and what was our secret. One day they came to our house to meet me and asked, “What do you feed the dogs?” I answered, “Well the same as my children, I give them milk, eggs and vitamins”. I began to learn a lot about dogs and we bred champions, winning the “The Best Black of NSW” and the “Best Red of NSW” which is a cinnamon colour. We continued to breed dogs until we had thirty of them, but then we grew tired of managing so many dogs. When I put out big bowls of milk and eggs they would come at me and push me down and climb all over me (Carmen smiles). So we stopped.
My husband would take the children to the factory to work with him, which was not a good idea but we had no choice. I started working in a childcare centre starting with seven children and soon expanded to forty seven, many of whom were Spanish. The government gave us $1400 a year that paid for a teacher for the children, and another to teach the mums English, guitar and dance lessons. One year the children performed at a Christmas competition in Martin Place and won first prize, it was worth $25.00. I managed the centre for two and half years.
Unfortunately money had changed my husband. He became involved in betting, cars and women. One day I left him. The government gave me a house and I worked in the Spanish Club for nearly twenty years with older people. I was happy and liked it a lot. The Spanish club was wonderful place. But after some time they closed the childcare centre. I told them when you take away the centre things will get worse within the Club. And so it was. The mothers had no where to leave their children, this was the first downfall. However, all the committee members continued to work hard, even though there were those who abused the system. They asked me to be on the committee of the older people and I accepted. Older members of the club played cards and entertained themselves. If something went wrong, I was there to manage the situation. I was happy to be there. It was lovely and we would help the people. Everyone would sing there, the Club was a very happy place. It is sad but everyone in the end was there to take what they could until it was ruined. I knew several Spanish groups but never joined any other club. I am very happy with Maria and John from the Spanish Community Care Association. They are excellent people looking out for everyone. I only hope that people know how to appreciate the work that they do.
The language was a difficult thing. Although I studied English at the hostel it was very difficult for me to learn. I do not speak fluently but I can get by. Although in my private life I listen to Spanish music and I cook Spanish food, I feel like an Australian. I like being in Australia but I have to admit that my heart is in Spain, however I cannot see myself returning to Spain. My health or money doe not permit it. Also, my children are married here and I can’t see them going to Spain either. They are one of the reasons why I have stayed here. I lived in the main thoroughfare of Madrid, the Gran Via. When I think about it, I miss walking past the Royal Palace, and all of the beautiful avenues. Australia is also beautiful and Sydney is a city that I love. And the services here are wonderful, the doctors and nurses are fantastic. I am very happy in Australia and I like everything here. There is nothing I don’t like. What a luxury!
Faustino
Faustino in Sydney, 2012.
I am from a place called Valdesoto, Concejo de Sierro in Asturias, Spain. I came to Australia in 1963 sponsored by my two sisters that were already here. I flew from Madrid on one of the first flights that brought migrants by plane. There were about twenty to thirty of us. My sisters were waiting for me at Mascot airport with Father Benigno a priest from Madrid. I was brought here with the Catholic Church who paid for everything upfront and I had to repay them when I could. In Asturias, I worked as a mechanic and so I did the same here.
I arrived in November, but I didn’t start working until after Christmas. When I arrived I thought it was the “Wild West”. The roof of the houses, the people, everything was a bit primitive. The social life was centered around the pubs. On the weekends the pubs were full and it nearly always ended up in fights. I remember seeing people having fist fights in front of the Town Hall with the police standing around. These fights were allowed when there were no firearms involved. What was surprising for me was that even women stood around watching. The onlookers would clap as if they were in a boxing arena (Faustino smiles).
I lived with my sisters in Balmain and they took me to the Employment Office in Leichhardt where I found work. I never had a problem finding a job because there were always a lot of opportunities. In my first job, I worked with elevators for a company in Glebe. It was right next door to the dog track. The ‘dogs’ were a novelty to me because in Spain they didn’t exist.
The only problem was the language, as I couldn’t speak or understand anything in English. We had an interpreter who was Greek and spoke various languages, one of them being Italian. I was able to communicate with him in Italian and Spanish. After living here for a while I saw an ad from a lady called Maria who taught English. The truth is she didn’t know much English herself, her spoken English was a bit rough, but she helped us. She said that we should “twist our tongue” and we pretended we understood what she meant (Faustino smiles). A bit later on there were English classes in Rozelle given by Australian teachers. I attended classes for a couple of hours a night once a week for five years. It wasn’t enough, but I started to learn something. In those days there were no headphones or computers, so it was more complicated to learn. I began to speak a little and I could understand a lot. I speak the language quite naturally today, back then it was completely different!
Like other Spaniards, I used to go to the Spanish Club as it was easy to relate with everyone else. We were able to meet people from all over Spain. It was very good. I originally thought that I would only stay here for two years and then return to Spain, however it didn’t end up that way and I am still here. Although I will always feel Spanish and I love Spain, I am different now. I feel good here. In Spain there are too many different ideas, each person is a political party (Faustino smiles). Australians do have different ideas to Spanish people, for example their approach to work, but when Australian people talk about Australia they are united. Spanish people, on the other hand have millions of different opinions (he laughs).
What I like most about Australia is the lifestyle. Life here is a lot easier. In Spain, it seems that there are more problems. It is difficult for young people to find work. Here, there is work for everyone. Of course, I miss my family even though I was there only for a short time. I have to say, “I still miss a good Fabada” (a famous dish in Asturias).
Fernando
Fernando at Mt. Price WA, 1964.
I arrived from Madrid in June of 1962. Back In Spain I was a fitter and turner. After passing an exam in Madrid, I came here as part of a group of 200 qualified trades people.
My neighbour had told me that he was going to Australia. And I asked, “but how is this?” and he said, “Well I am going to be called up with an offer to work”. I wished him all the best. My curiosity had been aroused and I soon went and found out what it was about. The end result was that I came to Australia and he did not (Fernando smiles). I came here with my wife and two daughters travelling by boat for one month. When we arrived it reminded us of a small town in Spain.
We began our life in Whyalla, South Australia. I was employed by BHP as a fitter and turner at first, I was offered work on a huge press after that. I worked for BHP until they started having alternating shifts that required me to work in the day one week and the night the following. When I worked the night shift, I couldn’t sleep during the day and that is why I asked for my final termination pay and went to work for Transfield.
I had to make frequent trips to W.A with Transfield. During this time my daughters finished their schooling and we decided to go to Sydney for a holiday. We liked it so much that we decided to move, so I resigned from Transfield. They offered me to work in Seven Hills where they had a branch. They paid for all our relocating costs, including travel and hotels. However, one of the conditions was that I could no longer travel outside of Sydney. My daughters had grown up and I wanted to spend more time at home. But soon after, the branch in Port Kembla had gone on strike and they wanted to send me there because the work schedule was running behind. I said, ‘No’ and resigned.
I then went to work for an American company close to the airport until it closed down. From there I went to Cockatoo Island, where they fabricated submarines and repaired ships. I worked as a mechanical engineer on a crane ship. When cargo ships had trouble with the cargo, perhaps it had moved during the voyage, I would go out and operate the crane. During this time many industries in Australia started to close and Cockatoo Island was one of them. I was close to my retirement age, so I worked for a couple of small companies before I fully retired.
My wife and I found it difficult in the beginning as we had poor English, but not at work because the language was about the plans. Everywhere around the world this is the same. But in any case, there was a lot of work if you knew English or not. In Adelaide, I found it difficult to understand English. However in Sydney, it was a bit easier. My wife would go to the shop and no one would understand her. Another Spaniard and I made a shopping list in English and Spanish so that we could be better understood. Later, I studied English for a little while in order to make myself understood.
I was a founding member of the “House of Spain” in Whyalla, South Australia. When I came to Sydney, I was asked to sit on the Board of Directors of the Spanish Club. I started from the bottom and eventually became the President in Sydney. I always worked as a volunteer, sometimes for free as the Manager. I founded a group for the pensioners within the club. I was also the founding coordinator of Spanish Migrants and later I presented myself in the elections here to become an Advisor (elected by other Spaniards) and I became the President of Victoria and New South Wales. I was there for four years traveling to Spain every six months, but eventually I had to give it away as the trips became very tiring. I didn’t present myself for the next election.
I was also a founder in the working party of the “El Parque Habitacional” Residential Gardens in Rooty Hill. This is a nursing home for Spanish-speaking people. I was responsible for securing the 10% deposit. In order to fund raise we held small events at the club. I decided to ask the NSW Premier at the time to help us, and he did. Due to the pending election in which he was standing he gave us $185 000 for the deposit. The Federal Government funded the 90% balance. We were able to build the nursing home where many Latin-Americans and Spaniards live today.
My current wife is Greek but because she has spent many years in Spain she cooks Spanish style (with the exception of her delicious Greek Salads). I don’t really miss Spain much. I have hardly any family left there and my life is here in Australia. When you are outside of Spain you realise that Spaniards are “Cry Babies”. In reality we live here a lot better than in many other countries. I traveled a lot to Spain, as I was the General Consultant of Immigration for Spaniards here in Australia for many years. Every time I landed on Spanish soil I was very happy, however after a few days I began to miss Australia. I have been here for many years now and I have never had a problem, I am very happy. I am very comfortable here and I am not sure that I want to return to Spain. I am now 83 and I have a very tranquil life. I have my wine before food, and I go on holidays when I please.
What I like most here, is the freedom we have. If you want to express your opinion, you can do so without anyone saying anything. I am very happy here, with my grandchildren and great grand children. Apart from the occasional political upset that I feel, I love being here.
Juanita
Juanita (back row, 4th from RHS) with english class in Madrid, 1962.
I was born in Villafranca del Penedés, half an hour from Barcelona. I did not live there and only returned after I separated from my husband, 20 years ago. My family lived in Calella on the coast and later moved to Barcelona.
I will never forget my arrival to Australia. It was the 12th of October 1962, Spanish National Day. I had been traveling by plane for four days, as it ran out of petrol half way across the ocean. In those days the aeroplanes were very big but only carried one hundred passengers. I was one of sixty single women and the other passengers were families with small children. After I boarded the plane I wanted to run back to Spain. During the flight there was an incredible storm that made me want to get off the plane as soon as I could.
I was a seamstress in Spain, it was difficult to get this work in Australia due to my poor English language skills. Before leaving for Sydney I attended obligatory English lessons at a convent, learning how to say simple words such as water, thirsty, bed, sleep and tired. It was the only way that they tried to teach us to speak naturally.
I came to Australia on a contract during the period of the White Australia Policy, the Australian government paid for everything. Us single girls had two year contracts as domestic help. This was not an easy period in my life, because I didn’t know the language. Nobody stayed on as maids in the one house for too long. The food was so different to what I was used to, so I hardly ate. I worked for an English family surviving on coffee and bread. I would vomit everything that I ate, until I discovered that if I ate my toast with olive oil and salt I felt much better.
The family had many parties, so I had little time to rest. I was paid £6, working almost 24 hours a day. I was not allowed to leave the house, not even to post letters to my family back in Spain. They kept my pay and did not let me attend school, as I was supposed to. Fortunately, some of the nuns that had traveled with us supported me during those difficult times. One of those nuns spoke to the family on my behalf and asked them to allow me to leave the house. I said to them, “I would die if I was not able to leave the house!” The nuns explained that they needed to give me a bit more freedom. Three or four months later I found a new job through a girl I knew at the Spanish Club. She told me that she worked as a cleaner from 5am to 9.30am and that she earned the same amount as a maid! I told the nun and I left my job as a housemaid. The man that rented the rooms, put another bed in my new friend´s room. My life had changed. I was no longer alone and we worked together. After work we would go the Spanish Club, but never too late, as we always had to wake up early to go to work.
The Spanish Club began as a place where all of us young ones could meet. In the beginning we sat on milk crates. Later we obtained the second floor that we divided with curtains. It wasn’t long until we had a dance floor, a restaurant, a library and later a café. A band played there and we all had such a great time speaking Spanish and listening to music. The Club continued to prosper and the work was organized amongst the members, so here I stayed.
My body went through a strange change after my arrival in Sydney. I found out that I had cysts in my breasts. The Spanish doctor who worked with the local Spanish community sent me to the hospital because I needed to have an operation. I did not speak a word of English and there was no one to help me, I was very scared. I only understood the word ‘cancer’, but I was lucky and the cysts were not cancerous in the end. Everything was different and more primitive compared to how things are today. I was bandaged and I carried a catheter. As I sat on the sofa, the specialist explained (with body language and by speaking slowly) that the catheter would be taken out the day after the operation. Then a registrar came over to me and ripped off my dressing gown, without saying a word! I thought that Australians did not like us because when we spoke with them they said, “Speak English!”
Later, I met another Spanish girl from Madrid. We became great friends and years later she became my bridesmaid and God Mother to my son. After cleaning offices, we would sew suit alterations for a Jewish lady. I continued to work for her after I was married, she was very good to me. When my son was born she sent me flowers and bought his pram. I had a difficult pregnancy and was sick all of the time. I had my daughter soon after. She was not well as a baby, so I had to take her to St. Margarets Hospital. There, I met a lady who ran a childcare centre. I was very happy when she offered me work as I could take my babies with me.
The Spanish Club President asked me if I would run their newly established childcare centre. Most members had children, they were young and newly married. It was a great idea as it gave us somewhere to leave our children while we went to work. We opened on the third floor to take care for five children, this number expanded to two hundred by Christmas. The childcare centre became very popular and we later formed a “youth club” as the children grew up. The Spanish Club was an amazing place to go. We managed our funds wisely to eventually buy the whole building. However, little by little the Club started drowning. I stayed working at the Club until 1975, I became sick again and I had to have an operation.
My first years in Australia were perhaps the hardest. I was much happier after the birth of my children, they meant everything to me. They kept me fulfilled. I slowly became accustomed to life in Australia as it became a home for my family. I am not completely happy today, due to my poor health. I find life very expensive and my health makes things more complicated. I think I would like to return to Spain, but my family is here. There is nothing there for me. My sisters have their own lives, the eldest lives in Hawaii. I am not the happiest person in the world, however I am in charge of my own life. I have my children and a grandchild, they mean the world to me.
Pilar
Pilar at the Ultimo Community Centre Sydney, 2012.
I am from Zaragoza, I came to Australia many years ago. My sister visited here first, when she returned to Spain she encouraged us to go. I wanted to go because I was not getting on with my husband. I was keen to go with my two children, but not with him. However, the Australian government would not give me a visa to travel unless I was married, so we had to bring him. He said to me, “Once we arrive at the airport in Sydney I will be returning to Spain”. He never did, that was in 1977.
The worst and the most difficult part of my life was my marriage. I should never have married. However, we had three children together that I love. My eldest child, my daughter, came in 1972 with my sister and five years later the whole family moved to Australia. My life with my husband was really bad, but of course we couldn’t separate. We brought around $5 000 with us from Spain. In Australia, my husband worked as a mechanic and I worked a seamstress in a ladies underwear factory. My middle son also worked and contributed to the household income. Things were not good at home, so he ended up going to live with his friends. I went to school to learn English, but learned ‘Tarzan-Style’ (Pilar smiles).
We bought a unit in Marrickville, that I paid for because I earned more money than my husband. My husband was put off work and never went back. The main problem with my husband was that he used to hit me. I was a victim of domestic violence for many years and on top of that I had to work all the time. I told my husband I did not want anything to do with him in bed. He used to put this product on his hair and it smelt bad. I didn’t like it. One night my husband returned home late, after having been out with some friends. I had just made dinner and prepared our meal for the next day as I was working. I had burnt some toast and the house smelt of something burning. When he came home he was very cranky and I answered back with my temperament that I hated him! We began to fight and he threw the kitchen chair and hit my head. I was injured and bleeding a lot. In the middle of the fight he started questioning me about money that I had. I didn’t want to tell him anything and so I rang my daughter around midnight who told him a white lie.
The children had decided to come over to the house but my husband wouldn’t let them come up and he started to hurt me again. The children called the police but when they came he told them that I had fallen down the stairs. Finally, they charged him and took me to the hospital. How disgraceful. We had only been in Australia for 5 years, after that we had two years of court cases. My husband’s Ecuadorian friends posted his bail and had him released from jail. He hid in my garage, and I had to see him every day when I went to work. Finally the police put out a restraining order against him. However, it didn’t matter as he still made my life and that of my son’s impossible. I lost so much in those years, such as the activities in the Spanish Club. I never wanted to go anywhere in case I saw him.
In the end, he left me in peace. He got involved with a South American religious sect. I remember when we were together they used to come to the house on Sundays and spoke about things that I did not agree with. Later, they said that my husband had become locked in a room on the second floor of their house in Newtown. As he tried to get help, he fell out the window. I do not believe it, because he was a big man and a locked door would not have been a barrier to him. I believe someone pushed him out of the window. In any case, he died.
I sold the unit in Marrickville because I did not want to live there anymore, I was very lonely. When I wasn’t looking after my grand children, I would go out with friends from work. I met and fell in love with a German man. He was a very good man and we were together for a few very happy years. We married and spent Christmas in Spain. How cold it was! New Years Eve 2000 is the happiest memory of my life. We danced and drank champagne all night! But he died and then everything turned a bit complicated.
My daughter and her husband moved to Korea a few years ago. My middle son also lives a long way away. Today, I look after my son on my own. He is 50 years old and has Parkinson’s Disease. I am getting older and it has become increasingly difficult for me to care for him, I feel very lonely. I need someone to help me with my son but it appears that I do not fall into any category where the government can help him. The Spanish Community Care Association provides me with quite a bit of help and company. I like Australia, but I am fed up with the bureaucracy in relation to help. I could not return to Spain even if I wanted to, as I do not have enough money and I have my son. But I would love to return to Spain!