Maria Tumarkin The suffering in Ukraine grabs at my heart. I need to see beyond the gruesome images in the media and to catch a glimpse of life in this place of war. I hear of a Ukrainian woman tending a wounded Russian soldier and phoning his mother in Russia to tell her that her … Continue reading Women Speak of War

I heard by ‘snail mail’ from Bob Maat that Sok Thim has died at his home in Phnom Penh. Thim is a Cambodian friend whom I treasure. I met him in the Site 2 Camp. My first memory was of his wide smile and his quirky sense of humour. He laughed about himself. I laughed … Continue reading Sok Thim Remembered

Nobody who knows me well imagines that I am an avid follower of Aussie Rules Football. Yes, I was born and bred in Melbourne where Aussie Rules is close to being ‘religion’. Yes, I was born into a family of avid Carlton supporters. I can even sing ‘We’re the Mighty Blues’ word for word. As a young … Continue reading Footy

In this grim time for planet earth I grasp for signs of hope, seeds of goodness. I recall the healing that gradually, gradually began after the Khmer Rouge horror ended.  Even during this tragic month there have been some sparks of hope. Let it heal The people whose spirit was nurtured here were plunged into … Continue reading HEALING

March 28th 2021. This day is Magha Puja for Buddhists and First Night of Passover in Judaism. For Christians it is Palm Sunday, the day of Jesus entering Jerusalem knowing the danger of speaking truth to power. It is a night of full moon. On this night a group of women and men stand in … Continue reading PARK HOTEL

Sometimes two stories converge, and each gives meaning to the other. Stay with me while I show you. In the time between the two World Wars my mother became a vivacious red-headed young woman working in a factory making silk stockings. On Sunday nights at Jarvie St East Brunswick her family would gather around a … Continue reading ALWAYS

It was a time of world-wide depression. Those who were rich lost their investments, those who were poor lost their work, the poorest were homeless and slept on the streets. First, I need to tell you about inner-city Melbourne in 1891. A short stroll from the edge of Fitzroy where Mary MacKillop was born forty-seven … Continue reading Mary MacKillop and Little Lons

I once received a handwritten letter from Bishop Desmond Tutu.. This is the situation. Land mines should never, ever be used as a weapon of war. We both agree. Beginning in 1989 I work as a volunteer in a refugee camp. Asylum seekers held in the barbed wire enclosure of Site 2, on the border … Continue reading Letter from Desmond Tutu

Sun, Sand and Water One magical part of the Port Philip Bay foreshore begins at the McCrae lighthouse and stretches a few hundred meters towards the head of the bay. This was our campsite, summer after summer, for years. It was bushland then, it became crowded later, now it is restored to its original state. … Continue reading Camping

Once I stayed in the walled town of Assisi for seven days, alone and silent. It wasn’t planned, it was wonderful. Francis and the animals On some whim or inspiration, I had taken a tourist bus up the mountain and into this ancient town. I had been busy and would be busy again. There were … Continue reading Assisi and Christmas

Vera and 3yo Joan Veronica was not yet three months old and I had not turned four when World War 2 was declared on September 1st, 1939. Then Japan bombed Pearl Harbour and took Singapore. It was now the Pacific War. Australia was well and truly involved. In all there were 111 bombing attacks to … Continue reading AND THEN THERE WAS WAR

On a sunny winter morning, during a brief spell in Melbourne’s lockdowns, there was the chance for an hours-long breakfast at Riverside Spoons-in Swan Hill. The ancient gums, the paddle boat and the mighty Murray River spoke of history. The conversation was of history far, far back. Gathered at the table were Vicki Clarke Mutthi … Continue reading YOU-RROOK

Just before the second little girl was born Joe and Vera had saved enough money to buy a second-hand 1928 Chevrolet. This car, eleven years old when they bought it, was destined to find a place in the heart of family. This is as new. Ours was secondhand Vera was in labour when Joe drove … Continue reading The 1928 Chev

For 86 years Melbourne has been my familiar ‘home base’. When a Qantas flight plays ‘I Still Call Australia Home’ I think ‘Melbourne’. If you had asked me on New Year’s Day 2019, I might have said, ‘This place is predictable. I could parachute into the inner city, the north, the west, the east or … Continue reading Melbourne and the World

When Joe Healy met a beautiful red-headed girl at a dance in a parish hall in East Brunswick he knew he was not the only one who had noticed her. The lad from Whitfield was now a young man, a licensed plumber working for an established company on the best building site in Melbourne city, … Continue reading Joe Healy Meets Vera Martin

Throughout August 2021 I have followed global statistics charting the spread of Covid 19. There is a saying among foreigners who have lived and worked for decades in Cambodia, and have and forged lasting friendships. We tell each other, ‘You can catch Cambodeitis,. It's a lasting love of this country’. Many of my Cambodian friends … Continue reading Cambodia’s Better August News

In our country we carry a tragedy and a shame. The First Nations Peoples carry the burden in grief that cannot be quenched. We all call it the Stolen Generations story. Archie Roach knew it, he felt in his own being, felt from within. He searched for family, culture and belonging. In some parts of … Continue reading Archie Roach and Nellie Moore

Charlotte in Blackburn as a great- grandmother I was a young adult when Charlotte, the youngest daughter of my great-grandmother Honora was elderly but full of life. She loved to tell stories. She knew that a young granddaughter would want to know what life was like when her grandmother was young. Charlotte was a lively … Continue reading Charlotte

It is one of Melbourne’s crisp sunny winter days. There is a story that I need to re-trace; this is a story that Vera, my mother, told me. I have many details and an important clue. When she was a little girl my mother lived in the family’s King Street café, near the corner of … Continue reading Love Story on Rathdowne Street

Today is the day of the Zoom meeting of the Josephite Justice Network. We meet each month. Two years ago there was a face to face meeting twice in the year in Sydney. 'All is changed, changed utterly’. Here we are now, watching each other's faces on a screen with a patchwork of 21 small … Continue reading For Justice And Equity

First Peoples Italian Asian African European This is a part of Victoria that I know well and love. The postcodes here are not postcodes of wealth. It is better than that. They are postcodes of pride, standing-up for each other, doing it tough, fierce loyalty, enduring friendships, resilience, dignity. If you set out from the … Continue reading Goodness and Grit in Melbourne’s West

Witness K and Bernard C Witness K and Bernard Collaery are in trouble.  They are being prosecuted as whistleblowers but the support for their cause gathers strength. The Australian Government spied on the East Timorese Government during oil and gas negotiations in 2004; this was a breach of trust between Australia and East Timor. Witness … Continue reading Courage, Conflict and Whistle Blowing

Closest image I can find Picture me. I am a newly arrived volunteer in a camp of Cambodian refugees: awkward, gawky, bamboozled. I wobble on a bike through squelchy red laterite mud and cross a makeshift plank bridge narrowly avoiding slithering into the water. I hear full throated laughter and turn my head for a … Continue reading The Albino Buffalo

I am writing this from Abbotsford. This is without doubt a place of beauty. It is also where I had my first close encounter with the exploitation and injustice which so many women suffered and still do. In these months I have cultivated my tiny garden, forged friendships with my neighbours, and harvested good memories … Continue reading Abbotsford

Williamstown Pier My ancestors all came to this country on boats. Remarkable! Before the colony of Port Philip was 25 years from first white settlement the forebears of my father and the forbears of my mother had arrived, one by one or a family together, to start a new life. Their sailing ships docked at … Continue reading They Came on Boats