A Love Letter to Australia From China Imprisoned Journalist Cheng Lei

This is an edited version of Cheng Lei’s first public comment since Chinese authorities detained the broadcast journalist three years ago. The journalist is still awaiting the outcome of the trial against her.

A public message ahead of the upcoming three-year anniversary of my detention.

G'day Aussies, excuse the doggy slang from someone in need of 'ockerism. This is a love letter to 25 million people and 7 million square meters of land, land abundant in nature, beauty, and space. 

It is not the same in here. I haven't seen a tree in 3 years.

I relive every bushwalk, river, lake, and beach with swims and picnics and psychedelic sunsets, sky that's lit up with stars, and the silent and secret symphony of the bush. 

I secretly mouth the names of places I've visited and driven through. 

I miss the Australian people, the closing hours of food market stalls, with butchers calling out end-of-day prices and Sunday flea markets, immigrant family-run takeaway shops.

Even when I was a bewildered 10-year-old in 1985, I remember arriving at a Qantas flight and experiencing sitting on a toilet for the first time. 

I received such kindness from strangers and friends. My ESL teacher, who taught me hot and cold by running my hands under the tap.

In 1987 remember camping for the first time with my family. My dad driving a $700 car with plates on the screen. 

I remember my great Cypriot friend, the teenagers who gave me fugly names at school.

When I was assaulted in my own house in Brisbane in 1994, the kindness that I experienced from people, including Officer Mobbutt, who helped me. My faith never wavered. 

Memories of this kindness have come back to me now and restored me.

I miss the sun. The sunlight shines through the window in my cell, but I can stand in it for only 10 hours a year. 

Every year the bedding is taken into the sun for 2 hours to air. When it came back last time, I wrapped myself in the doona and pretended I was being hugged by my family under the sun.

I can't believe I used to avoid the sun while living in Australia. Although, knowing Melbourne weather, it will probably rain for the first 2 weeks after I return.

I miss the black humor of Melbourne weather, the tropical theatrics of Queensland, and the never-ending blue skies of Western Australia. 

I miss the sweet encounters of wildlife in Australia, the sea salt whirling in my ear, the sand between my toes. 

I remember one time when I was landing in coastal NSW. We were delayed because it was feeding time for the fruit bats, and everyone on the plane was smiling.

I remember being in the Sydney CBD, staying at a hotel, and a pinkie-sized frog emerged. The porter picked it up to take it back to nature. 

I miss the honesty boxes on the side of the road in the country, where you could pick up fresh fruit and leave coins. 

Growing up as a Chinese Australian, I had two identities that would often fight for the upper hand depending on the context and company, but in humor, the Aussie humor wins hands down every time. 

Even though we speak different languages and eat different meals, we laugh the same and have an eye for the absurd. We take fun seriously and make fun of seriousness.

I miss chucking at the drive-time radio, hearing the Footy Show and Lateline. 

It’s the Chinese in me that has probably gone beyond the legal limit of sentimentality.

Most of all, I miss my children.