The decision to leave Australia wasn’t really mine — it was made for me.
Unfortunately, my landlord had developed a nice little. seriously messed up. meth habit. One day she pulled a knife on my flatmate and told us both to get out immediately. With the rental crisis the way it is in Australia, finding somewhere new was almost impossible. As a single white male with no addictions or children, I didn’t qualify for any emergency housing or priority shelter. Those places seemed reserved for people with far more complex issues — the ones society labels as “high priority.”
Previously i had the pleasure of spending some time at the Salvation Army men’s hostel in Mackay. What I saw there shocked me. It felt more like a halfway house for ex-prisoners than a safe place for anyone trying to get back on their feet. Many of the residents were either heading into prison or had just been released. Drugs were everywhere — far more than I had ever seen in my life. I even met a guy who had voluntarily handed himself in for marijuana rehab because he couldn’t quit on his own. After spending eight hours filling out paperwork, he was basically left to his own devices in an environment where people were openly selling meth and other hard drugs. The very people who were supposed to help him recover were part of the problem.
On top of that, the system felt like a rort. They took a large chunk of your Centrelink payments, and there was fine print that meant the deductions could continue even after you left if you didn’t specifically unsubscribe. Stopping it wasn’t straightforward — I had to a dozen frustrating phone calls before I finally gave them a piece of my mind. Meanwhile, some of the staff seemed to be doing very well for themselves, driving luxury cars with personalised number plates. It left a bitter taste. Worth mentioning that if you are homeless once and are accepted into a shelter, you cannot enter again, ever!!
Faced with the very real prospect of homelessness, I made a practical choice. It was actually cheaper to sell everything I owned, dip into my superannuation, and move to Vietnam. So that’s exactly what I did.
Selling my belongings was tough, especially my guitar. I thought it would break my heart, but in the end it wasn’t as emotional as I expected. I don’t regret any of it now — not selling my things, not leaving Australia, and not starting over here.
My intention is to stay in Vietnam for good. There’s nothing left for me back home. Here, I’ve found a real sense of peace — something I’ve always felt in this country. Vietnam just feels right to me.
I think a big part of that comes down to the culture. Family comes first here. The older you get, the more respect you’re given and the more you’re drawn into the heart of the family. It’s the complete opposite of what I saw growing up in the West, where elderly people are often pushed aside and sent off to nursing homes. That strong sense of family and community makes me feel truly at home — more at home than I’ve felt in a very long time.