q (THEME MUSIC) Captions were made possible with funding from NZ On Air. Copyright Able 2017 (RELAXED MUSIC) The West Auckland suburb of Kelston isn't a wealthy suburb. But it is home to vibrant, young people, hardworking business owners and a diverse cultural mix, which made us feel at home when we first arrived here as refugees when I was just 9 years old. I've worked as a lawyer for the United Nations, working on trials of military and political leaders accused of human rights atrocities in Africa, in Cambodia and in The Hague. My desire to fight for justice for the most vulnerable, often the children, began when I was a child here in Kelston. Which is why I'm so interested to see what makes the community tick today. In this episode of Neighbourhood, we'll meet a student at Kelston Girls whose art reflects reality for young women in Afghanistan. This is about a girl who forced to marry with old man. I saw lots of girl like this. A Kelston local remembers the first night he really felt able to shine. Getting on that Ponsonby Road in front of all those people just thinking, 'Wow! 'We can be a professional show-off now, you know? Everyone's come to see us.' We'll meet the people helping the Muslim community say farewell to their loved ones in a way that's appropriate to their faith. We started the Muslim funeral service, which is a mobile unit, because we want to cut down the grieving period of the family. And we'll share a meal that brings the Kelston community together. If this is the way we can help just bring hope and give them life, you know, it's like, why not? We're family. Let's do this together. Bring love into the community. I'm Golriz Ghahraman, and this is my neighbourhood. (SOMBRE MUSIC) I was born in the years following Iran's violent revolution and the year that it entered into an 8-year war with Saddam Hussein's Iraq. So the geopolitics of the Middle East and religious fundamentalism have shaped my life from the very start. My dad was an engineer, and my mum was a psychologist. And they weren't willing to raise a little girl in an Islamic regime. They left everything, including their own careers, to bring me to safety. There's a real sense of responsibility that refugees feel to live up to the gift that New Zealand has given us ` to be safe and to be free from religious and political persecution. For refugee children, there's that added sense of responsibility to live up to the expectations of parents that have risked everything themselves to bring us to that safety. Coming in New Zealand was not my choice. My name is Raheel, and I left Afghanistan, uh, in 2013. I went to Pakistan first, and I, uh, spent one year and eight months in Pakistan. And after that, UNSTR sent us to New Zealand. Yeah, it was hard to come here. And it was hard to live in different country with different culture. But I` I will try my best to` to be good. Yeah, my parents was doctor, and they was, um, working in hospital. And they got some issues with Taliban, so we just got some security problems, and we came to New Zealand. I was lucky because my parents was doctor but the other girls had not anything to study, and they was not able to reach their dreams. So I want to work for the women, same like my friends, in future. I just came with my mum and my brothers in New Zealand. Uh, Raheel, my daughter, is amazing. Uh, she is very friendly; she's very hardworking, because she understand the` the problem in the Afghanistan. I have two hospital in Afghanistan. I work for 100,000 people, maybe, because I was only woman's, uh, doctor in my area. I every time worked in the very danger places. Shooting, this` people are dead. I see a lot women dead` dead. Childrens. I think Afghani people... need help. Afghanistan people very` For Afghani, everybody difficult. See too, they are children. That` they are children and is` no have school, no have food for eating. No education. No health. No hospital for` help for children. I want my children can do help for New Zealand people because New Zealand people very` very friendly, very nice. I want good future for my children. I'm going to Kelston Girls High School. When I was in Pakistan, uh, my family had not money to send me to school and during this time, because I missed one year of my school, I started to paint. This is about a girl who forced to married with old man and she` she have to leave everything ` her dolls, her childhood and her books. And I saw lots of girl like this. Sometimes they married and 6 years old, 10 years old, 12 ` any age. I didn't paint his face because I wanted to show some bad thoughts. This is wonderful, Raheel. Do you think it's finished? Yes, I think. It is stunning. I love your colour scheme. Raheel is exceptional. She's very special. She's very, very skilled, but she is a great thinker. When I came to New Zealand, I brought my oil painting because my painting was my memories. I had a friend in Afghanistan, and she` she lost her mother, uh, because of war. She was small, and she had to look after her brothers and sisters. And she was polishing the boots because she loves to study, and she had not money, and she had to find money for study. So, I remember her, and for that, I drawing that painting. She shared some paintings with the rest of the class and told them the story about the work, and then she turned to the whole class and said that they were very, very lucky to have the education that they had, um, and that they should be grateful. Which was quite a poignant moment. Yeah. I just` Now I study college, year 12. But, I will study law in future. I think if you` if you take a fish from the sea and you put it in aquarium, even if the aquarium is very nice and fish have everything, but the fish want to be in sea. So I always want to go back in my country and live in Afghanistan. (REFLECTIVE MUSIC) Our family in Iran eventually got a few of our personal things out to us in New Zealand once we were settled, like these photographs of my parents and their friends in their best '60s and '70s fashions and with their feathered hair. It's not what most people think of when they think of Middle Eastern fashions. But Iran actually had a really vibrant youth culture before the revolution. It was incredibly difficult for my parents to build a new life when we first arrived here with no support, not much money and not even a lot of English. But everyone was incredibly welcoming here in Kelston. We didn't have anything, and that was OK here. We didn't need to feel self-conscious. There was a real openness to everyone that we interacted with. It makes me very happy to see that the community spirit in Kelston is still going so strong today. I guess I see myself as Samoan; I can't help it. Mum is from Napier, and Dad is from Samoa, Western Samoa. We left for Samoa when I was about 4. And then when I was 23, I think my dad was kinda noticing that I was not speaking English very well. My father said to me once (SPEAKS SAMOAN) Which means in English, 'You look like a bag of flour, 'but you don't speak a word of English` of your language.' So, he kind of, I felt, forced me to come to New Zealand to learn to speak English. I came to New Zealand in '83, stayed here for two years and learnt my English then. And then went back to Samoa cos my mother passed away. And then I met this lovely young man. Met in '87, got married in '87, eight months later, so guess I got swept off my feet, and I've been here ever since. Yeah, I know, it's when you look at the photos, eh. And you go, 'Oh my gosh, is that really me?' Just so fair. But I never saw it like that until I look at the photos and I go, 'Oh yeah, you did look different!' (LAUGHS) Cos Sharon does look half-caste, whereas Judi looks like she's a tourist kid. I look like I need to be fed! (BOTH LAUGH) Yeah, nah. Not enough umu. My husband and I, we run a church in Kelston Boys, and it's called Community Christian Fellowship, and it's very community-based. We just love the people, and we try and find different ways we can get out to help. So, one of the things our church does is we get involved in taking the Tuesday kai night, which is once a month, the first Tuesday of each month, in Kelston. (ALL SPEAK SAMOAN) Cos we're noticing a lot now there's a lot of people who are, sort of, not quite homeless but are struggling. And so we have a heart to help them get on their feet and give them hope and just bringing life. (LAUGHS) I think chop suey has become, like, a traditional dish. But originally I think, what? It came through probably the Chinese that came into Samoa and brought their dishes and we modified it, eh? And made it our own, I guess. Chop suey goes a long way with so many people. It's a good dish for a big crowd, and it's yummy. It's not like when it's a big quantity, you lose the taste. Well, that's cos we have the best cook, you know. And it brings back memories. You'd have it at least once a week or twice a week at home. It's a Sunday special. Ooh. Smells good! (LAUGHS) Pretty sure it's gonna taste good too. Tonight, we're at the Kelston Community Hub. We've got a combined, uh, church event, and with the community where we put on a kai for our communities. Today is the last dinner for the year. For us, personally, we've probably told one or two people, because people have networks. It's a small hub. We know if we do advertise, it'll be jam-packed. It's easy to get people. It's just who's coming ` I don't know. We just leave it for Kelston to decide for themselves, I guess. Yeah. ALL: # Hallelujah, praise the Lord. Hallelujah, praise the Lord. # Hallelujah, praise the Lord. # Right where we are. Amen. # All right. Welcome to our kai. (RELAXING MUSIC) What would you like? Some of this? Good to see you guys. Who'd you come with ` Sha? Yeah Oh, awesome! Can always come back. I'm sure there will be more. Hey, how are you? I think when we see people are struggling and they're just losing hope and losing life. I know when God made us, he wants you to live and have abundant life, and so, if this is the way we can help just bring hope and give them life, you know, it's like when you find the answer to something you just want to give it out and I think, 'why not?' You're family. Let's do this together. Bring love into the community. Oh, the food has been awesome. I can't thank the community centre so much for what they've provided for us. It's been beautiful. Everything's just` It's like a Christmas feed on Christmas Day. It's been really nice. Oh, definitely this is a good community. Everyone here is loving and they come up and talk. Most people don't talk to most people. But these churches that do this for the community. It's been awesome. Well, I started eating the taro, but I've got to the dessert, and I'm going back to the taro. And if it wasn't for this, a lot of people would go hungry. It's a big team effort. I couldn't do it myself. I mean, yeah, maybe I could. But, um, it's way more fun when everyone contributes and comes together like family. And I love more the connection. I always find the best way to connect people is to pick up a tea towel. Kelston is an enormously diverse community. More than 45% of its residents were born overseas. Which is very different to a place like Iran. I remember coming here and making friends with kids from so many different backgrounds and being so curious about all their different cultures. My interest in other cultures wasn't always reciprocated. I remember a girl came up to me in intermediate school and asked if I was a refugee. And before I could answer her she said, 'Because I hate refugees.' I've always regretted not challenging her on that. But often it's easier to internalise that shame. And it does take a while to find our voice when standing up to prejudice. I suppose growing up at high school and intermediate, I was sort of into theatre and arty sort of stuff and` I remember trying on my mum's shoes, you know, when I was like 9 and 10. They'd be outside mowing the lawns, and I'd be inside trying on my mum's shoes without her knowing. So it, sort of, started from there, yeah. By day, I'm Kevin. Well, sometimes by day my other name. And, um, by night, generally, I'm known as, um, The Outrageous Miss Ribena. I'm a drag queen entertainer. Well, my mates I was living with back in 1997, they said, 'Oh, you're always bouncy and bubbly 'and over the top.' And there was, sort of, us Soft Drink Sisters. There was Miss Fanta, Miss Cola, and then me ` The Outrageous Miss Ribena. So it sort of stuck from there, yeah. The reason I live in Kelston ` I like the location. It's a nice suburb. It's quite quiet. Um, our house is situated next to a really nice stream with some native bush, so there's no neighbours on one side. It's got that real good, sort of, homely westie feeling. My parents and my family, um, are Pentecostal born-again Christians. So, my parents found out, um, that I was doing drag. I went down to Hamilton, and then Dad asked me the big question, 'Do you lead a homosexual life, and do you cross-dress? Those were the two words he used, yeah. The coming out was, um, quite a hard... topic f` on the day. They've never brought it up ever again. (UPBEAT MUSIC) So, this here is, um, my 1998 Hero Parade costume. See it's a rainbow` the rainbow fabric with 15m of purple and yellow tulle. I've always kept the dress, and it's a bit of a` the one that I suppose, I say, that made me famous, yeah. And, um, I just saw this actually at Spotlight, and it was like 10 bucks a metre and I thought, 'Oh my God, I want that for my first parade costume.' The gay community pulled out all stops to provide thousands of people a spectacle of risque, and all the entertainment sprinkled with titillation and fun. They estimated 200,000 people were on Ponsonby Road that Hero Parade. Getting on that Ponsonby Road in front of all those people just thinking, 'Wow! 'We can be a professional show-off now, you know? Everyone's come to see us.' It's Miss Ribena! Where did you get your gorgeous dress from? My dressmaker is Les Mills! And those were the years where the mayor of Auckland wouldn't support the Hero's Parade and didn't fund it, so, you know, I got flyers made with 'Vote Miss Ribena for Mayor.' Like, thousands of them I handed out, and this was the actually costume, and it had a big sash ` 'Miss Ribena.' It's always been the` the special one, I suppose. Miss Ribena, you know, my full-time job, started I say, due to this dress. It's been my 11th year full-time drag queen work. I'm the only one in New Zealand. I work permanently at Family nightclub ` all the pride events on that. Big Gay Out, you know. You'll get Nana's 60th. All up, takes me two hours to do my face. Most of the big drag queens throughout the world are very, what I call, clown-like. And I'm proud to say that. 'Ah, they look like clowns!' or, 'Oh, look at what they're wearing.' Well, you know, that's what it's about ` entertainment. I don't come across... people heckling at all, no, no. I haven't had it for ages. They don't really wanna mess with this 100-kilo drag queen, cos, far out, next minute, you might get a` you know, a Kelston westie sock in the face! (LAUGHS) A lot of the younger ones ask, 'What was it like back in the day?' It's a lot different. You know, when I first went to The Staircase nightclub, it was hidden. It was up the backstreet on Albert Street, and now it's out on K Road, Ponsonby Road. All of those that are under 30, it's a lot easier now, yeah. Well, here we are from the rainbow frock in 1998 to the new pink and lime maid's costume here. It's all big, bold. Loving doing drag for over (GASPS) 18, 19, 20 years, is it? So I'm down here at Family nightclub in Limelight Cabaret, and I'm ready to perform. It's Satur-gay night, and it's dragalicous! So we'll see you all soon. I just look back now and I think the Hero Parade down Queen Street and Ponsonby Road really, sort of, made New Zealand aware of all different types of communities, and it really helped, um, the Rainbow Community, as I say, to be more accepted and for people wanting to be who they are. (REFLECTIVE MUSIC) Waikumete is the final resting place of more than 70,000 souls. It's also a special place of remembrance for those lost and displaced by war. To me, and I think to the growing millions of others forced to flee war and persecution, the experience of being a refugee is as much, if not more, of an identity point as the culture that we're born into or the one that we come to adopt. But I think it's really important to celebrate the strength that comes from surviving those experiences and the gratitude that refugees feel when they're finally safe and free. But freedom isn't always enough to make new arrivals feel completely at home. Sometimes a strong cultural connection helps, particularly at times of loss. My name is Ismail Waja, and I was born in South Africa in a remote little area called Rustenburg. I'm a Muslim, and I follow the religion of Islam. When I got here, I opened the dairy and, uh, started dealing with the local people. One of the most difficult things I had to unlearn what I grew up with in South Africa that we were separated from whites. It took me a while to realise that I'm dealing with human beings and they are my equals and I was regarded as their equals as well. This is a press cutting book that we've been compiling, and my daughter` got her to get` to paste in all these clippings from the newspaper. And, uh, looking at the pictures now, it was a war-torn country that we've come from. I was in my last three years of school when all of this was going on. So we studied at home, and all our friends stayed home. Some were in the riots, but he wouldn't allow us to be in the riots. It was a bit too dangerous. We did support it. We didn't want apartheid. With the apartheid system, I lived in an Indian area, went to an Indian college. Eventually, landed up as headmaster of an Indian school. They blamed me for creating chaos at my school. And I had nothing to do with it, because the whole community was in uproar. Eventually, I paid the price. Two inspectors walked in and unexpectedly, 'We are here to inspect your work.' And I refused to take the inspection. I didn't go through it because I was not going to be subjected to their third-degree treatment. I'm very proud of my father. I always have been. I am a member of the Working Together Group. It's a team of us that got together, male and female, and, uh, we started the Muslim funeral service, which is a mobile unit. We have three cemeteries where we do the burials. Our requirement is to get the bodies buried ASAP, because we want to cut down the grieving period of the family. We also feel that the body needs to go back to its origin, where we come from, which is the earth. Its Arabic is 'janaza.' Janaza is another name for burial. We run open days and workshops. And we combine the two. Open days are normally for the general public, cos our general public here want to know how Muslims prepare their deceased for burial. This is our mobile unit. It's equipped with a washing table with hoses. And in these cupboards, we have packs of shrouds. This service is a charitable, free service. We do not charge for transporting or washing or shrouding. Everything is supplied free to the family. The only thing that the family pays for is the council fees for the grave and the digging charges. It's a long story. My mother-in-law came to live with us, and she passed on in 2001. When she passed away, we had a challenge. There are quite a number of rites around death. We decided we will wash her at home. There was no dedicated hearse. One of my friends went to a dairy and asked them for their dairy grocery van. After a while we decided that, look, if we were in that difficulty, there would be many other families experiencing the same difficulty. We normally have family to be part of the washing. It's a wonderful way for them to say farewell to their loved one. It's males that will wash males, and it is females that will wash females. When we lower the body into the grave, it's not in the casket; it's in a little trench. A reason why we tie the bows on the left hand side is we untie the knots so it's easy to reach the knots and untie it when the body is in grave. One of the biggest consolation that we experience, all the drivers of WTG experience, is once we've concluded the burial, there is this beautiful smile that we see on the family's face. It's a smile that money cannot buy. And this is the type of satisfaction that we pick up and encourages us to do the service for the community here. Iranians love to talk politics, often over loud dinner parties. As a child, I listened to the adults around me talking about media repression and feminism and corruption in post-revolutionary Iran. I learnt to question the sources of the news that we receive and to challenge established power structures. That's one of the reasons I've decided to stand in the next elections as a candidate for the Green Party. When I was living here in Kelston as a child refugee, I know I would've been excited to see a politician who was like me, who understood the challenges that immigrants face. I know that had I not been lucky enough to grow up somewhere so open and truly diverse, I wouldn't have felt empowered enough to walk into an exam at Oxford or to prosecute world leaders for abusing their power. So I know how important it is for young people to see diversity at every level, even in Parliament. Captions by Starsha Samarsinghe. Edited by Antony Vlug. www.able.co.nz Captions were made possible with funding from NZ On Air. Copyright Able 2017