More about Manuela

My family background

I have no brothers or sisters, I'm the only child. My mother died when I was 3 years old, she was a single parent, handicapped - she walked with crutches - and she was 25 when she died. My family were fishmongers, and Corunna was a town where every one knew everyone. My mother's name was Matilde. She died of TB. She was the youngest. A lot of children died in childbirth, and infant mortality rates were high. Most died from poor health, and only the strongest ones survived. Food was very basic and if you got sick in my family you were taken to the doctor, when you were already half dead. They didn't look after themselves well.

I had three aunts, and I grew up with one of those at different stages. My grandmother was always there, the centre of my universe, until I came to Australia when I was 14. She was from the country, and when she came to the city she had little money. My grandmother and I were like a parcel, passed between my aunties. But we were lucky because we owned our home, and the aunties would live with us in our house. At that time, people always lived with their parents, and because my grandmother was a widow, it was my aunts' role to look after her. It still is like that, but not so much.

When my mother died, I stayed with Granny, and my Aunty Peregrina. Aunty Peregina went to France when I was 11. She left her 2 children with my Granny to look after until she could take them to France. They went to France because my Granny thought it would be a better environment for my uncle. As an older child I had to look after my uncle and I was put into situations that were not good, but I thought that was how life is. So my Granny thought it was better to take me away from him. My Granny was only 5 feet tall - very little. I remember a disagreement she had with my uncle, and she hit him with the chamber pot. It is funny now, but then it was very sad.

The women at the time married, and that was it. They never thought of leaving their husbands. A bad marriage was better than being single. Society wasn't very nice to women who left their husbands in Spain at that time. The children would go to the husband, it was very male dominated. Although I believe the women were more influential - they made the decisions and got what they wanted. The women ruled the roost, but the husbands thought they did.

Galicia was poor - agriculture or fish - many people migrated, a lot to South America where they had the same language. They were called Gallegos - they say if you lift up a rock, you will find a Gallegos. People had very big families, and inheritance meant that the land and property was divided between all the children, so that it was no use to anyone. Inheritance laws are very fair in Galicia, because everyone gets something. In Catalan the property goes to the oldest only who then looks after the others. The properties there stay big, in Galicia they get split up too much.

Coming to Australia

en I was 14, one of my aunties (Josefa) who had come to Australia when I was five, thought we should move here. We went to a lot of expense, travelling to Madrid, having X-rays, to come to Australia. It was difficult. We were all coming, my Granny, my Aunty Peregrina and the other children. But my Aunty Peregrina had TB, and she wasn't allowed to come. My Aunty Peregrina is still alive after having TB and a terrible life. She is still in France. Her daughters have married French men and she has grandchildren and great grandchildren and is quite happy now.

So I came by myself to Australia to my Aunty Josefa. I caught the plane with another lady who was coming to the ACT. Hr husband knew my uncles, but I didn't know her. Josefa was the lucky aunty. She married a lovely man, controlling, but always there for her. He did the cooking while she was working. She didn't speak English, so he did everything.

I hadn't seen my Aunty Josefa since I was five, but I knew her as soon as I saw her from the plane. I had to wait to go through customs, but I knew it was her. I was excited. And that's how I came to Australia.

I arrived in 1966 in Australia. I went to school in Canberra. I spoke no English at all, I had never learned any languages. It was a waste of time; the nuns just left me to myself. I wasn't very good at school. After a year, I went to another school where they said I was a very nice child who went to her classes but still spoke very little English. I understood English quicker than I spoke it, I was very shy, and didn't want people to laugh at how I put my sentences. So I wouldn't talk.

The girls were nice to me. Because they were Church of England, I went to that church. In Spain we were all Catholic, but religion wasn't important for me. I thought there was no difference between them, what was all the fuss about. To me, God is everywhere. I believe in a being called God, but I don't have to go to church to pray. My philosophy is that the best thing is to be nice to each other.

I became an Australian citizen at the age of 15 when my uncle became naturalised. It was automatic to naturalise me. I thought Australia was a great country, you could say whatever you like. We are all equal; you could tell you boss what you think. But later in life I realised I was the only one doing this.

After school, I went to work, and this is funny - this could only happen in Australia. I can't believe what has happened to me in my working life in Australia. The first job was in the public service. My cousin-in-law who speaks beautiful English came with me to the interview, she spoke to him, I only said ‘yes' or ‘no'. I still couldn't speak English, or write it. I worked there for a year until I left to go back to Spain.

My grandmother had come here with my cousin Isabel. Isabel had been here as a younger person, but went back to Spain. My grandmother came with her when she migrated to Australia the second time in her twenties. I didn't like the lack of freedom I had with my uncle. He expected to control everything I did, and thought I should have chaperones, which had not been needed in Spain. I always wanted a husband, because I wanted my own children, my own family, my own job and my own house.

At 17 I decided to go back to Spain. I applied for a job at 17 in Spain, but I was told I was too old. They also thought I lacked experience.

My aunt still in Spain is Aunty Milagros - that means ‘miracle'. Luckily, when I went to Spain I met my husband two weeks after I arrived. He was part of a group of young men (he was 22) that my cousin knew. My cousin introduced me to Martin. We went out together for three years, when I asked him if he was going to marry me or not. I proposed to my husband. This isn't what Spanish girls normally do, but the three years in Australia gave me a different outlook. He decided we would migrate again - and I thought Australia would be better than Canada, where he wanted to go, as I had Australian nationality. As I knew what it was like in Canberra, we decided to come to Australia.

I applied to come back to Australia, but my husband had the wrong trade, he was a jeweller. He was eventually allowed to come, but we flew in different planes. Mine was the better plane, because I was a citizen and he was the migrant.

We got married in August before we came to Australia. I knew nothing about contraception, and had no sex knowledge but godmother gave us a sex book for a wedding present. I got pregnant immediately and I was glad I was going to Australia where they had the Pill.

When we arrived in Australia we didn't have much money. We lived with my cousin Isabel for the first 6 months, I had the baby, and three years later we were given a government house. My youngest daughter was born there and we lived there for some time. My husband worked in construction for a year, then he went to TAFE. He always wanted to be a carpenter; at that time working in a trade was a very good thing. Only lazy people worked in the public service then, they only went there because it was a job for life. Australia has changed so much.

Working in Australia

After I had the first baby, I worked in information electronics, soldering cables and making circuit boards. I worked there for three years, and when my Aunty retired, she was working as a cleaner for the Post Office, I took her job. I worked there for three years. During that time the GPO changed and I was working for Telstra. I had a very good job, even if it was as a cleaner. I was able to finish the work in time to pick up the girls from school.

One day I saw a job vacancy for a cleaning supervisor's job- the cleaners were going to be contracted out - and I applied. I went for the interview but didn't get the job. But they offered me a job in the office - which surprised me because I don't know how to spell well, and my spoken English was not so good - but the woman who interviewed me said she wanted me to come. I was frightened but I bluffed my way through for 27 years.

I had common sense. I was very hard working, and when I finished my job I always helped other people. My life in Telstra was a bluff. Even today, I wouldn't know how to write a proper document. I did all the jobs in the office initially. Some fifteen years later I started working with the customers in the debt collection group. It was a very nice company at the time - it changed into a very forceful company later. We used to give customers a lot of time to pay their bills.

Many years went by, and the job became more complicated when new products kept coming out, and the customers became more demanding; I thought I wouldn't be able to cope anymore. The other thing that happened in Telstra was after a reorganisation, I ended up doing a team leader's job for a short time. This was two years after I started in the office in Dickson. I was supervising an English lady who in the past had spoken down to me because I was the cleaner in her area in East Block.

I thought this can only happen in Australia, and there is a God! This was one of the best things that happened to me - it wouldn't happen in Spain. It also taught me never to say anything bad: it comes back to haunt you!

Being a migrant in Australia

Migrants are a funny lot. You remember the good things, not the bad things. Your heart is in two places. As you get older, you think more about the country where your family lives. Migrants risk never to be happy. Spaniards are quite different from each other - Galicians are very strongly connected to their land and their property and houses, and as I get older I understand this more.

Where you are born is how you are. Australians are very similar from one State to another. In Spain, we are different, and have different cultures in different states. You are proud of the area you come from.

In Australia, you are a mish-mash of cultures and haven't reached the point of being proud of your own country. You should be proud, with all the warts and mistakes, like the mistakes made with the Aborigines, but you should still be proud of who you are and be proud of the great ways of the Aborigines. We can learn some things from them about this great country.

The minorities rule too much of what Australians are. I like multiculturalism, it gives good food and you understand more about other people but you can't stop having Christmas because it will offend other religions. You must be who you are and proud of it. Let the other people who come here do their own thing.

I will always think as a Spanish person. Migrants can't forget who they are, and will always compare Australia with their own country.

The bottom line is that everyone wants a job, a house and the best life for their children.

It doesn't matter where you come from, Iraq, Afghanistan, Europe. We aren't the same, but we want the same things. We don't think the same way, we think in different ways - and that is good.

In Australia people don't see themselves as the top of the heap. At 14 in Spain, I was so proud to be Spanish. No one is more important than anyone else. We are all the same in Australia, but Australians need more national pride.

As I grow older I am happy with my age, but it would be lovely if younger women had the knowledge older women have. We all have to make the same mistakes. We don't learn from the experience of our elders.