IT IS ALREADY MIDDAY when we arrive at Allan and JR’s house on an eight hour road trip from Melbourne to Murray Bridge, South Australia. The sun is high and the pale texture of the ground reflects the brightness of the daylight. Dry winds brush onto my face as I get off the car to greet the boys of Murray Bridge.

I stand at the doorway and I hear someone shouting at the far end of the house. It is Patrick, the Korean chap, who is Allan and JR’s workmate and a border of the house too. He might be calling JR to meet us.

JR, the youngest of the group, comes out of his room smiling. He greets me and shakes my hand with delight.

“Musta po?” he asks, his arms tucked across his chest. “Okay naman.” I reply, as my eyes wander at the white wall of the corridor. Not a bad house, I thought, with a touch of a colonial cottage house: massive adobe bricks and corrugated green iron roof from the outside, and high ceiling and thick floor board in the inside.  To me, this is an almost perfect house.

“Kuya Allan will be here soon. He just went to the shopping centre to buy some food,” JR says, smiling and a bit tense because he might be thinking that we have not had a lunch yet.

Soon, Allan arrives. With an average height and a strong presence, he is dubbed as the ‘Mayor’ of the group for leading the nine abused 457 visa workers in July 2009 that resulted to their eventual gaining of permanent residence visa. He looks cool in his sunglasses, and a pair of T-shirt and cargo short. He carries a carton box filled with foods he bought from nearby local Asian store.

“Have you guys eaten? I’ve bought some food for our lunch,” he asks placing the box on the table.

Everyone is all in the kitchen, shoving each others’ shoulders, packed with stories to tell. Gossips, politics, jobs—everyone is busy having their chika-chika ‘thingy’ that for a while, we all have forgotten to have a lunch.

We survey the backyard, thinking that this might be a good place to construct the tent for the camp site. It is huge than we expect. Dry grey sands around the Hills Hoist, with few shrubs and midget bamboo trees planted at the far end of the patch. In the middle are old grapevine plants, their trunks as solid as rocks, zigzagging on the ground like a huge python.

“It’s a bit bumpy,” I say to George, while Danny stares on the ground. George or Butch to friends and family, nods, his teeth gnashing as usual. I am not sure if he feels hot or he does not seem impressed with the setting.

It is three o’clock in the afternoon and the group decides to look for a camp site for the rest of our stay in Murray Bridge. We are already driving for thirty minutes and it is not looking good. This is not really the initial plan as we thought the campsite is only around Murray Bridge’s vicinity. We continue driving and hit two camp sites. “Nop… fully booked because of the Holy Week. We could have foreseen this earlier,” I whisper, smiling, as we head back to Allan and JR’s place to chill out our disappointment.

AT NIGHT TIME, we are all sitting in the lounge. The room is pitched black, and the only light I could see is the beam of the overhead projector in front of us. Butch introduces the topic—Reyalidad ng Migrasyong Pilipino (RMP).

I pull out my camera and take some photos of the participants. Butch sits at the front, as Danny, Charo and I sit at the opposite side. Allan, JR and Zaldy are sitting next to Butch at the far end of the room. Dexter, the new Migrante Melbourne member, sneaks in to the room like a phantom, standing near the doorway.

In the middle of the room is a coffee table, full of bottles of beers, cans of passion fruit soft drinks, adobong mani, and a container of chocolate cookie bar prepared by Butch’s daughter, Kayy. Everyone is focused, their eyes and ears at Butch as he heads the discussion.

As the power-point presentation reaches its conclusion, it becomes more apparent to the participants about the root cause of the Filipino migration around the world. Why many Filipinos choose to go overseas and why we are here in Australia in the first place? These are the questions that are dealt with in the presentation.

Everyone has the opportunity to reflect the materials on Philippine history, politics and migration—a complex topic that is not simple to absorb for a rushed three-hour discussion on RMP.

Soon, Zaldy and Allan share their experience of migration in Australia and we are all interested to hear what they are about to say.

Zaldy, the new face in the group is a keen participant. He is in his early 40s, with an average built and short haired. He has one child and a wife who has just gone back to the Philippines as his wife’s previous student visa has now expired. He is now working with Allan and JR and is waiting for the result of his lodged 457 visa application.

“I never really experienced a union collective or have I organised workers as such because I was a manager in a big company in the Philippines. But I could feel my sympathy for the workers and for what they are fighting for whenever they have strikes”, Zaldy explains, as he clasps his hands, arms folded between his legs.

He explains to me that taking up the RMP is a kind of an ‘eye-opener’ for those who have not yet understood the root cause of Filipino migration abroad. He then tells me that he is very willing to join Migrante, and that he knows Migrante’s work very well, even before when he was still in the Philippines. In essence, I could tell that he has insight of what the group is really fighting for.

Allan is equally passionate and eager to tell his experience as an abused 457 visa worker almost a year ago. He describes how they were abused by their previous employer and how Migrante Melbourne coordinated the support, through the South Australian union and the Filipino community groups in Adelaide.

We concur that what Allan and the rest of the group did in July 2009 was a clear indication of their readiness and conscious attempt to collectively act and fight for what they believed was just, fair and reasonable, and that is—to stand-up and fight for their rights and dignity.

IT IS EARLY SUNDAY MORNING and we start packing our bags and belongings for our intended departure after lunch time. At the same time, the hosts are also occupied preparing for a group picnic at a park near the Murray River bank.

Every month, a group of Filipino families and friends, including the Murray Bridge boys, gather together for their ‘paluwagan’, where members pool their money and each one takes turn in bringing home the accumulated amount every month.

Around eleven in the morning, I hear people entering the doorway and they are all pleased to greet Allan and the rest of the group. I recognise Doc in his sky blue sweater and I say ‘hello’ to him, while I shake his hand near the doorway to the kitchen. The whole house is jam-packed and the noise continues to arise like a market-place as more Filipino families enter the corridor.

The night before, we decided to formally establish the Migrante Adelaide “Ad Hoc Committee’ composed of Allan, JR and Zaldy. The interim officers were also created to oversee the expansion of Migrante Adelaide in the near future. It was also decided on that night that we should speak to Doc as he was also instrumental to assisting the abused nine 457 visa workers way back in July 2009.

Before we head to the park, I ask Butch if he has already spoken to Doc about the formation of Migrante Adelaide. He says yes, and Doc is more than happy to join and is willing to help organise Filipinos to join the group.

The park is just about ten minutes away from Allan’s place. We arrive at around midday and we are lucky enough to find a big shed with a barbeque hotplate. The weather is warm and sunny, with a light cool breeze coming from the banks of the river. People walk along with their dogs, children running around, and weird men walking on a Batman, Superman and Spiderman costumes—they complete the atmosphere with fun and laughter.

Each family brings their own share of food for the salu-salo meal; and all the tables are filled with Filipino foods: Goto, Tokwa’t Baboy, Kaldereta, Spaghetti and Barbeque, amongst the feast for the gathering.

It is two o’clock in the afternoon and the time comes for us to leave Murray Bridge. We say good-bye to everyone and we confirm that we will definitely stay in touch with them. The sky is clear and although our road trip back to Melbourne is daunting, our minds are filled with rich memories, encounters and experiences.

POSTCRIPT: The Migrante Adelaide ‘Ad Hoc Committee’ will be visiting Melbourne on 21-23 May for leadership training and briefing for the upcoming First Migrante Australia assembly in June this year.