I was at the KFC across the road from the plaza recently and a woman was waiting for her food with us in this busy store. She had most of the waiting area to herself. Her fidgeting and verbal ticks signalled: keep your distance.
It was difficult to know her age. I suspect she was in her mid-20s, yet the face and eyes looked like they had seen way too much for such tender years. The only spare seat was near her, and it was from this vantage point that I saw her spill her drink, spoiling some of her meal. She threw the bottle and wept.
I was leaving at this stage and decided to put my unopened can of drink on her table. She saw me for the first time and her eyes were a mystery. There was confusion. Did she not recognise kindness? I think this was the case. What I saw was coldness and probably suspicion. So I left the can and exited without a word.
Inala is great; however, occasional sobering encounters such as this do leave a mark.
Growing up in Central Queensland and on a cattle farm, my world was monocultural, and the fare was steak and three veg, every night. Moving to the inner west of Brisbane in the early 1990s, life took on a new, heady mix of sounds and smells.
Settling into the lifestyle of a cab driver, I received a few words of wisdom from the older hands that I mostly ignored. One message that stuck with me though was: avoid Inala at night.
This was my first hearing of the word “Inala” and because of the advice, it seemed to be a scary unknown I didn’t need in my life. I did, however, bravely venture to the Inala Plaza during daytime, and it was a sensory assault. Unfamiliar languages, foreign faces, food I did not recognise: enough to send this country boy scurrying back to the relative safety of Taringa.
Life has taken many twists and turns since then, and early this year, I was faced with the prospect of living in Inala. Fifteen minutes from work, comparatively well-priced: a lot of boxes were ticked. Unconfirmed opinions from decades earlier still resonated, but were pushed aside to embrace a new chapter.
The diversity in the suburb has to be experienced to be fully appreciated. Some of the best people I have ever met call 4077 home. I have seen generosity and kindness. Often this generosity comes from people who have little or nothing to give, but they look and want to help anyway.
There are also the desperately unfortunate who are fighting an often losing the battle with drugs. It is easy to go about your business without interacting with any of this, and most do. It takes some serious tunnel vision not to see, though.
Much of the melting pot which is Inala comes together in the plaza. It is the hub of the community, parking is at a premium, and no matter the time, the lanes and corridors are heaving with a broad cross-section of humanity.
The exteriors are home to fresh seafood, along with fruit and vegetable markets. It is loud, and interesting to watch the vendors and customers frantically going about their business.
In the outdoor square, the dominant scene is a large group of elderly Asian gentlemen playing a board game I don’t recognise. They never leave; the game never finishes. These men are fixtures. I don’t know their stories. What is clear though is that they are very much at home – and they are not to be interrupted.
The variety of foods is a delight. Lebanese, Korean, Chinese and Japanese are all here, but Vietnamese is naturally the star, given the state’s largest Vietnamese community lives here. Pho, bun bo hue, and the banh mi look, smell and taste amazing, and it feels a million miles from my childhood days of eating a different version of beef every day.
A day in Inala will rarely be boring, and there is a community here with a lot of pride. Yes, some of the negative stereotypes may be true, yet some of the best people in the world are here, and it has quickly taken me by the heart.
I had the pleasure recently of taking the six-year-old child of a dear friend to the local park. Like any kind of park, the kids there meet as strangers and quickly become firm friends for the 30 minutes they are together. A range of ethnic backgrounds coming together as one for the innocent pleasures of play.
The parents – just as diverse as their offspring – also shared the fun, everyone enjoying the simple pleasures of community. Inala has so much to offer. It’s a great place to live.