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My first memories are from the boat -- the steady beat of the engine, the bow dipping into each wave, the vast and empty horizon.
我的第一个记忆来自于小船--发动机均匀的节奏，浅浅的波浪，一望无尽的海平面。
I don't remember the pirates who came many times, but were bluffed by the bravado of the men on our boat, or the engine dying and failing to start for six hours.
我不记得海盗来了几次，却被船上男人们的虚张声势吓跑了，引擎熄火，6个小时无法启动。
But I do remember the lights on the oil rig off the Malaysian coast and the young man who collapsed and died,
但是我记得边石油钻井反射的光；来自马来西亚海岸，年轻小伙虚脱而死，
the journey's end too much for him, and the first apple I tasted, given to me by the men on the rig. No apple has ever tasted the same.
旅途早早结束；我尝到的第一个苹果，来自同船的一个男人。再也没有吃到那么美味的苹果。
After three months in a refugee camp, we landed in Melbourne. And the next piece of the jigsaw is about four women across three generations shaping a new life together.
在难民集中营的三个月后，我们定居在墨尔本。下一片拼图是关于三代妇女共同创造的新生活。
We settled in Footscray, a working-class suburb whose demographic is layers of immigrants.
我们定居于Footscray，一个工薪阶层市郊，以移民为主。
Unlike the settled middle-class suburbs, whose existence I was oblivious of, there was no sense of entitlement in Footscray.
不像定居其他中级阶层市郊，我忘记了我的存在，更别说权利了。
The smells from shop doors were from the rest of the world.
商店透出的味道仿佛来自另一个世界。
And the snippets of halting English were exchanged between people who had one thing in common: They were starting again.
说着同样磕磕绊绊的英语，人们相互交流着。有一件事情是相同的，又重新开始了。
My mother worked on farms, then on a car assembly line, working six days, double shifts.
母亲一开始在农村干活，后来去了汽车组装线，一周工作6天，双班倒。
Somehow, she found time to study English and gain IT qualifications. We were poor.
有时她挤时间学习英语，获得了IT资格证。我们很穷，
All the dollars were allocated and extra tuition in English and mathematics was budgeted for regardless of what missed out, which was usually new clothes; they were always secondhand.
节约每一分钱。剩余的钱都用来缴英语和数学的学费，不管再难，即使没有新衣服穿，穿二手的。
Two pairs of stockings for school, each to hide the holes in the other.
上学时穿两双袜子，一双遮挡另一双上的洞。
A school uniform down to the ankles, because it had to last for six years.
学校的制服盖过了膝盖，因为它得坚持6年。
And there were rare but searing chants of "slit-eye" and the occasional graffiti: "Asian, go home."
虽然很少，但是搜寻圣歌的边边角角，偶尔的涂鸦说 “亚洲人，回家去吧！”
Go home to where? Something stiffened inside me. There was a gathering of resolve and a quiet voice saying, "I will bypass you."
回家回到哪儿？一些事情刺痛了我的内心。一股力量在凝聚，安静的声音在说：“我要超越你。”
