Thebe Mabanga investigates the pros and cons of immigration I am at the Il Pavignione, on the 10th floor of the Michelangelo hotel at Johannesburg’s property hotbed, Sandton. Excuse me for stating the obvious, but this place drips with opulence. Not just the credit-fuelled kind found a few floors below us at the Sandton City shopping mall, where the country’s upper- middle-class and overnight celebrities display an insatiable urge to live beyond their means. Up here the seriously wealthy have gathered to examine investment and immigration opportunities in Australia. They are at ease with their affluence and conscience; they are pricey without being too ostentatious and instinctively cagey. The seminar room we are in can squeeze in 100 people. This evening, about 80 seats have been made available to allow for breathing space. Upon registration the gentleman in attendance, Erick, recognises me from my call to book a place. It is probably because I am the youngest or maybe because I am one of two black people attending. Either way, I stand out. The audience just about fills up the room. It is an interesting mix of the old and the new upper class. There are many white couples. The men look like they are at the peak of their careers. There are also a few white men who appear to be at the autumn of a life of luxury built on inheritance and the benefits of apartheid, clearly attending to prepare for retirement in Oz. Then there is a breed that looks set to define the new face of the super rich: young Indian males. The few who have made it tonight are either with partners or in small groups. In my row are two who look too young to afford property in Australia and too hip to consider living among kangaroos in the excessively pale, sometimes uninspiring colonial outpost down under. The presenter of the seminar, Margaret Jurca, is a very interesting proposition. Her accent suggests she is an east European native and she later tells us she has lived in Australia since 1969. She has made a name for herself as an international property consultant over the past 16 years. She comes with a prime recommendation as the Wespac Businesswoman of the year for 2000. She has impeccable credentials and has been coming to South Africa for the past four years. How interesting. When I speak to people in academic and business circles they tell me how difficult it is – thanks to the Department of Home Affairs – to bring skilled people to help them. Yet here is a woman, with virtually a free pass into the country (the last time she was here was six weeks ago) whose sole mission is to entice our wealthiest and, debatably, most talented individuals away. She does so with what would be smooth talking were it not for her accent and zeal. One thing she did was to crush my view that Australia is uninspiring.
The first half of a 75-minute session was dedicated to investment opportunities, and her place of choice is the Gold Coast in North Eastern Australia. From an economic perspective the place is a gem: it is hardly the size of Johannesburg but has A$20-billion investment committed to it. It has just witnessed the opening of the $5000-a-night Versace hotel. It has an eight-lane, $750-million highway linking it to Brisbane and in 2005 it will be the world golfing capital with 71 golf courses. Yet for all this apparent lustre, the audience is impressed but not inquisitive, thus preventing me from asking the question I had all evening: Do they need semi-cheap labour? Gardener, dishwasher, caddie? Anything. The second half of the session on migrating proves livelier. Jurca starts by noting: “It is easy to adjust to life in Australia because we drive on the same side of the road, we speak the same language [since when?].” But hang on, I’ve heard this one before. Oh, I eavesdropped on Jurca reciting the mantra to the hip Indians. She then gives us what sounds like a history lesson from 2030: “When South Africans first migrated to Australia, they settled in Perth [on the West Coast] then they realised that it is isolated and then they made their way inland.” The questions flow thick and fast, with one old man inquiring with exasperation: “When can I move in?” What I can say is that South Africans primed for emigration – or those preparing a landing pad by investing abroad – appear to have grown more diplomatic in explaining their plans. “It’s a beautiful country, it’s got great potential, but just look at the Aids thing,” was one offering. Get ready, Australia, for another batch.