Melbourne Story - 11. Physical Labour in Australia

On Monday and Tuesday mornings each week, I worked at a hospitality TAFE in the city. This place was a professional training institute made up of five buildings, offering a wide range of courses such as baking, cooking, waiter and waitress training, and barista courses, along with numerous classrooms.

After working there for four hours a day, I was able to rest relatively well in the afternoon.

From Wednesday to Sunday, I worked full-time at an Italian restaurant. My schedule was from 12 p.m. to 4 p.m., followed by a two-hour break, and then from 6 p.m. to 11 p.m. During the two-hour break, I would sometimes take a walk in a nearby park, stop by a bar to watch TV for a while, or read a book in the staff room, or take a short nap to relieve my fatigue.

The job of a kitchen hand involves standing all day in a limited space. At first, people who start this job do not feel much, but after three or four months, their fingers begin to stiffen and ache, and their lower back also starts to hurt.

In my case, after about a year, when I made a fist and tried to open my hand, my fingers would not open all at once. They would straighten in stages—first one step, then another, then another. And when I tried to close my hand again, I sometimes had to use my other hand to help bend one of the fingers.

So it becomes necessary to massage your fingers frequently and do wrist exercises, as well as walk regularly to relieve back pain. Otherwise, there may come a time when you want to continue working but physically cannot. Many people quit early because they are unable to maintain regular stretching.

A few years ago, a young chef joined us. Compared to others, he was tall and had a slim waist. He worked eight hours a day, five days a week. He had paid a high tuition fee at a cooking academy and was working here to gain practical experience while pursuing his dream of becoming a chef.

However, after a few months, this young man—who had always been cheerful and polite—gradually became quieter, and worry began to show on his face. One day, I asked him the reason, and he said his back hurt so much that he could not sleep properly at home.

I advised him to walk regularly and do stretching exercises at home, but I wondered how many young people these days would actually do that when they are in pain.

In the end, he left before completing six months, without his training having fully paid off. From my perspective, his height may have made his back more vulnerable. Perhaps he gave up his dream and chose a different path.

At first, during my two-hour break after working four hours, I would sit on a chair and try to sleep while waiting for the evening shift. But this caused my shoulders to ache and my back pain to worsen.

So I decided to change my routine. During my break, I made it a rule to go outside and walk around the nearby park for at least one hour. At home, before getting out of bed, I began doing about 40 minutes of stretching.

After doing this, even though my back would occasionally ache after three years, I no longer felt severe pain, and after about two years, my fingers began to straighten naturally again.

At some point, I watched a Western film starring John Wayne, who was tall and strongly built.

In the film, there was a sheep-shearing contest in a village. John Wayne appeared as a strong competitor, while his opponent was a small and frail old man. Spectators placed bets as they watched the contest.

At first, John Wayne quickly sheared several sheep and took the lead. However, after several hours of shearing dozens of sheep, even his strong body could not avoid becoming exhausted.

In the end, he lost to the old man, who had spent decades working as a shearer despite his weak appearance.

After the contest, John Wayne could not even walk and had to be supported by others, while the old man simply stood up, dusted himself off, lit a cigarette, and walked away calmly.

That scene left a deep impression on me, as it was something that could only come from years of experience.

Before watching that film, I often felt worried as my body gradually became stiff while working as a kitchen hand and dishwasher. I had heard many stories of people who could not continue this kind of work for long and had to change careers. So I often wondered when I might be able to find a different job.

However, after watching that film, my thinking changed completely.

“Even if I started this work late in life, once I become accustomed to it and gain experience, I will build my own endurance, just like that old shearer. And in any case, what kind of labour is not difficult?”

Thinking this way, I came to the conclusion that there was no need for unnecessary worry.

Some time ago, while browsing the internet in Korea, I read a post written by a female student studying in Australia. She said she liked the country and wished her parents could also live here, but added:

“My father is over 50. What kind of work could he possibly do here?”

Reading that, I realized that I too had come to Australia when I was over 50, and I wondered if I had taken on too much.

However, since my English was limited, I had no choice but to rely on physical work. What use was my 25 years of experience in an insurance company? I had not come here with enough money to start a business either.

But as I thought of the old shearer, I was able to let go of the quiet worries I had been holding onto.

Even if I had been fluent in English, when I think about the mental stress I experienced while working in insurance and sales in Korea, I sometimes feel that this life in Australia—though physically demanding—suits me better at my age.

Here, I can return home and rest without worrying about work after hours, and go back the next day with a clear mind.

My wife once said something similar.

Among my former colleagues and seniors in Korea, there must be people who have at least once thought about trying this kind of work.

Work without strict age limits, and without much to feel self-conscious about.

I sometimes wonder when such work will be naturally accepted in Korea. That thought leaves me with a sense of regret.