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ABC News
an hour ago
- ABC News
SA's Young family 'complete' after adopting two girls during Vietnam War
Ute Young was only expecting one baby from Vietnam when she arrived in Melbourne in the early hours of Christmas Eve in 1973 — instead, she was handed three. After two failed attempts and months of waiting to adopt a little girl into their family of four, the Youngs received a phone call at 11pm on December 23 at their home in Renmark, in South Australia. A baby rescued during the Vietnam War would be arriving for them at 5am the following day at Melbourne Airport, more than 700 kilometres away. "I was panicking. I was beside myself," Mrs Young recalled. But with help from a travel agent friend, Mrs Young and her eight-year-old son, Michael, made the frantic three-hour drive to Adelaide Airport before jumping on a plane to Melbourne to meet their newest family member. It was there she finally met her new daughter, eight-week-old Nguyen Thi Nheim, fondly known as Thi. However, once Mrs Young arrived at the holding location, she was asked to take not only her new daughter but also two other babies to Adelaide. "There was another baby for a Monash couple [in South Australia's Riverland], and another that wasn't very well that had to go through to Perth," she recalled. Adding to the chaos, when Mrs Young tried to book her return flight to South Australia, she was told it would be near impossible on Christmas Eve, with all the flights to Adelaide fully booked. "There were these two lovely-looking ladies sitting in the row waiting to board the plane … I plucked up the courage and said to them, 'Please, would you take these two babies to Adelaide?'," she said. The strangers agreed and boarded the flight, taking the two tiny war orphans with them. Later, as Mrs Young contemplated how she would get through the night camped with a new baby and her son as they waited for a flight, a Christmas miracle occurred. Mrs Young was taken aside by the checking agent and allowed to board a plane back to Adelaide with Michael and his new sister, Thi. They arrived home in Renmark in time to celebrate Christmas Day with Mrs Young's husband, Des, and their other son, Peter. The Youngs were one of many Australian families who adopted children from Vietnam during the war, which came to a brutal end in 1975 when North Vietnam captured Saigon in the south, following the withdrawal of the US and allied military forces. As the war ended, about 3,000 orphaned or displaced children were airlifted from Vietnam to multiple Western countries in an initiative known as Operation Babylift. So two years after Thi's arrival, this military rescue operation brought another daughter, six-year-old Tran, into the Youngs' home. Their family was now complete, with two little girls and their adored big brothers. Thi does not know a life before Australia. "Obviously I knew I was adopted, but growing up in a country town … I didn't feel any different to anybody," she said. Thi, who now lives in Adelaide and has two daughters of her own, Bella and Aeisha, says she has never struggled with her adoption history. "I know some people feel either upset or resentment that their parents didn't want them," she said. "I kind of look at it as my parents must have loved me very much to give up a child. "As a parent now, I don't know if I could do that." Now 52 and 56 respectively, Thi and Tran are still as close as they were growing up in regional Australia. "We have a great relationship. I know she's always there for me, I'm always there for her," Thi said. The Youngs celebrate important family occasions together whenever they can, but Christmas 2023 was particularly special — it marked 50 years to the day since Thi met her new family in Australia. Thi says her mother's bravery and generosity in making space in her family for two girls needing a home 50 years ago still inspires her. "It's an incredible thing to do," she said. Military history section curator at the Australian War Memorial Emily Hyles said the Vietnam War had been "long and bloody" with millions of people killed and displaced. She said families were desperately fleeing the fighting, food was scarce, and children were handed over to orphanages in the hope they would be cared for. "[Then US] president [Gerald] Ford decided that we really had to do something about all these poor children who were essentially unwanted and orphans," Ms Hyles said. "I think it was a really last-ditch effort to do something decent for these poor kids. "There were at least 100 children on each flight, and famously they were loaded in cardboard boxes." Ads were placed in newspapers asking Australian families who were interested in adoption to express their desire to give a home to a child from Vietnam. "War's haphazard. It's not organised, it's chaotic, and that would have been reflected in the way these poor kids were brought out." As for Thi, she says she is curious about what blood relatives she might have in Vietnam, but feels content with her life in Australia. "It would be great to know and it's also good for history reasons," she said.
ABC News
2 hours ago
- ABC News
Australia's small Tuvaluan diaspora is about to grow fast — and it's determined to keep traditions alive
Tuvaluan migrant Frayzel Uale's first encounter with Australia left him gripped by culture shock. The traffic and skyscrapers in his new home city of Melbourne were unlike anything he had seen on his tiny home island in the Pacific. But that wasn't the hardest part about moving from Tuvalu in 2021 as a teenager. "It was fitting in … especially in school," he says. "It was hard to make friends due to the language barrier." Four years later, the 19-year-old has found his niche at a community hall near Melton, in Melbourne's north-west. On a Saturday night in June, he keeps the beat as the voices of more than 30 young people rise in song at a monthly youth event held by the Tuvaluan community. They're performing a fatele — a traditional dance song that brings Frayzel back to his childhood in Tuvalu. "It's the closest thing to home," he says. "Living in countries like this you can feel very isolated from home … you miss your homeland." Organisers say the youth events, known as Youth Connection Day, are about to grow more important for Tuvalu's small but vibrant diaspora. Up to 280 Tuvaluans a year will begin moving to Australia soon, under a new visa letting them escape the impact of climate change on their islands — agreed through the landmark Falepili Union treaty between the two countries. It's proving popular, with more than 4,000 people already having entered a ballot for the first batch of visas. The low-lying atoll nation is in peril from rising seas, and scientists say it could become uninhabitable within decades. Tuvaluans already living in Australia say they are determined to keep their culture alive in their adopted new country. "We need to hold on to something that is uniquely ours, in order for us to continue to survive," Youth Connection Day organiser Losa Sogivalu says. Frayzel says events like the youth night will help migrants settle in as they arrive under the new treaty. "We can help them slowly fit in, help them through the culture shock," he says. "It brings them a sense of belonging." Many of the young people gathered at the youth event have never seen Tuvalu. Ms Sogivalu says she didn't want to see them grow up outside of their traditional culture, as she did as a young person in New Zealand. "I want the kids to have what I didn't have," she says. At Arnolds Creek Children's and Community Centre, kids and teenagers play games teaching them Tuvaluan language and songs. The venue buzzes with energy as they compete in group singing contests and other team activities. Ms Sogivalu says the mood is "crazy" — in a good way. "It's loud, it's messy. But we wouldn't have it any other way," she says. "That's what we want. We want the kids to be their true selves." Latasi Monise, 16, was born and raised in Australia but is learning more about his Tuvaluan heritage at the events. "I get to come here and interact with people who are just like me," he says. Later in the night, he joins Frayzel in keeping the beat as the group dances in the fatele. Several young men tap the wooden box at the centre, while young women, girls and boys dance in a circle at the edge. After only two Youth Connection Day events, organisers have seen the young people grow in confidence as they dance. "I've also seen pride in their culture," Ms Sogivalu says. "As a young Pacific Islander, as a minority in this big country, you get lost. "And this is an opportunity for them to get connected, through their roots, to who they are." Youth Connection Day is one of a growing number of events run by community organisation Kaiga Tuvalu Victoria, as it prepares for the arrival of new Tuvaluan migrants. The group's president, Niu Boland, has seen the diaspora grow since he moved to Australia 25 years ago. When he arrived in Melbourne about 10 years ago, he found a small diaspora of Tuvaluans there who had moved from New Zealand. "There was still a bit of a community thing going on, but it's nothing like it is today," Mr Boland says. He estimates Melbourne's Tuvaluan community now numbers a few hundred. "Over the years, we seem to have a lot more numbers that attend our social functions." Many now meet weekly at a church service at Melton's Baptist Church, where the congregation sings and hears sermons in Tuvaluan language. But Tuvaluans who have already moved from its islands say starting a new life in Australia can be hard. Mr Boland says without a rental history, it could be hard finding a property in a tight housing market. "They'll just have to depend on the [Tuvaluan] community for support, a lot of community support," he says. "And the community will have to back that up, just for while they get their feet on the ground." Latasi says the reality of life in Australia could be harder than anticipated for some Tuvaluan migrants. "Most Pasifika people … they'll say 'it's freedom from what we know now, we just move there and there's so much opportunity,'" he says. "It's not exactly like that. They might come here and then not find a job, and then they'll have to just live with relatives who are already here. "I think it's great [they can move to Australia], but I don't think it's without its cons." For now, Melbourne's Tuvaluan community is ready to welcome more people, including at its youth nights. "We've started something that hopefully they'll be able to join, and they can help us as well to maintain the culture," Ms Sogivalu says. Learning Tuvalu's language also gives the community's young people hope they can see their homeland, despite rising sea levels. Latasi plans to finally make the trip one day — and speak Tuvaluan there. "I want it to be there, so me and my kids can visit, my grandkids can visit," he says. "I don't want it to just be gone."
ABC News
2 hours ago
- ABC News
Tuvaluan migrants build new life in Australia
Tuvaluan migrants in Australia fear losing their home to climate change – but they're determined not to lose their culture.
