Armed with surfboards, fishing tackle, Christmas cake and the detritus of the ham and turkey we set off for the annual family pilgrimage to Point Lonsdale, there to enjoy carefree days in the sun. My first mission was a walk to my Mecca–the ocean beach. Roaming the dunes I happened upon two huddled bodies. A hasty look revealed two dishevelled old men. Distracted by the magic of the ocean I quickly forgot them. Later while visiting the main street these men approached me for money. Warily. I emptied my pockets. At home the family were watching horrific images of the earthquake at the World Heritage Site, Arg-e-Bam, Iran. Initially the Iranian Government estimated that 15,000 residents had been killed, in reality the figure exceeded 41,000.
At first we spoke of how powerful nature can be and how often our little problems are a distraction. Family discussions turned to the paucity of Australian government aid. Umbrage was taken at one emergency expert who asked why rescuers still travel to earthquakes, when local planning would be far more effective. Another said that irrational fears of epidemics were adding to survivors’ trauma and wasting resources. Yet another claimed that the bombing of Iraq had caused the earthquake. Equally unpopular was the viewpoint that relief responses were merely a tool for Western diplomacy.
What really stirred the family were the figures. It was not just the knowledge that two city hospitals had collapsed crushing staff and patients but that 70 per cent of the houses in Bam had been destroyed. There were scenes of intense grief with people weeping next to the deceased. They were in a city without telephones, electricity or water supplies, with night temperatures below freezing. In contrast, we were between two houses, with warm beds, food in each fridge and convivial companionship.
Recounting my meeting with the men in the sand dunes led to similar recollections. During the pre-Christmas shopping rush my daughter and I had been amazed at the number of beggars who approached us. Her response is to march those willing to the local McDonald’s to buy them a meal or to the supermarket for supplies. Few accept. Are their needs genuine? For many of us this is an uneasy issue, best ignored.
There is no particular stereotype of a homeless person, although the government’s policy of ‘de-institutionalising’ those with mental illnesses would appear to be a contributing factor.