Jan and Janina Budzinski
| First name | Jan and Janina |
|---|---|
| Last name | Budzinski |
| Country of Origin | Poland |
| Date of Birth | 270116 161016 |
| Year of Arrival in Australia | 1949 |
| Submitted by | Irene Salinger (Budzinski) |
Story
As with most immigrants after WWII my parents came to Australia for a better life not only for themselves but also for their children. My parents had spent 7 years in the forced labour camps of Germany. My father had served in the Polish army. With the devastation of Poland during the war, and the invasion by Russia after the German surrender, my parents believed they would not have a better life if they returned home. With two young children, Jadwiga and Stefan, they decided to start a new life in a country they had never heard of before, Australia, leaving behind their families and friends, never to see again or return to their homeland.
The sea journey to Australia on the American ship the General Blatchford, leaving from Italy, was not easy on my mother as she was pregnant. It was hot and crowded on board with little privacy. My parents had never travelled outside Poland before and it was the first time they met people from so may different countries.
On their arrival in Sydney they boarded the train to Bathurst to the Migrant Processing Centre and then once again were sent to migrant holding centres. Their first impressions of the bush were mixed. They were scared of the isolation, the heat was unbearable, the grey gum trees, flora and fauna so different to their native Poland. They were called the ‘New Australians’ and not much liked in those days because they could speak no English.
Life was not easy, again being interned in camps with so many people. The food was different, and without any family and friends for support, not speaking the language, isolation and loneliness had to be overcome. It was here in Parkes that I, Irena, was born, the youngest of the family and the teller of this story.
Eventually, my parents moved to the Bankstown area and made new friends with neighbours and other Polish migrants who settled in the area. As fresh food was not in abundance my parents grew vegetables in their backyard and had some chickens for fresh eggs. We used to share these with our neighbours and everyone seemed to help each other. My parents did not move away from the home they established so many years ago and are still friends with the remaining living neighbours. My father worked for the Australian Government on the Railways all his working life and my mother worked for a textile company until her retirement.
My parents accepted the culture of their new homeland but they never overcame their loss of family and home. As in the Polish language that best describes their feeling is “Zal”. Their children have married and have had children and the Polish language has been lost but the history of their grandparents courage to start a new life in a new country lives with them to tell their children.