Why I'm returning to cultural practices during the coronavirus crisis

Being continents apart from my immediate family — particularly my parents — has made for a challenging time in lockdown.

They're in Zambia, while I'm here tens of thousands of kilometres away in Australia.

And given the multicultural make-up of Australia, many families across the country also find themselves in a similar position.

Technology has been able to fill the geographical divide in some way, but the uncertainty of not knowing when I'll see my family has been rather unsettling.

Connecting to culture

To feel a sense of connection to my family and my heritage, I've found engaging in cultural activities and practices incredibly helpful during this time.

Language is one example.

I've found myself talking to my loved ones in languages other than English that we speak. I speak four languages another than English — three are the Zambian languages, Bemba, Nyanja and Namwanga; as well as Swahili.

I've started writing text messages and letters in these languages to improve my own proficiency and to my delight, my relatives indulge me by responding in a similar way.

My proficiency in Swahili is very basic at best and to impress my mother during calls, I've taken to peppering our conversations with new phrases I've picked up through Duolingo.

I've also been listening to songs in Swahili and my mum, in turn, has taken to sharing idioms in Swahili which I now scribble down into the notes section of my phone.

While I don't believe my Swahili has improved, it has been a wonderful way to connect to my heritage.

When 'collective identity is shaken'

Sukhmani Khorana is senior research fellow at the University of Western Sydney. Dr Khorana says using cultural practices to reconnect to cultural heritage isn't uncommon during a pandemic.

"Similar to when people migrate to a new country; similar to when people are in exile. It's a time when your individual and collective identity is under threat and social isolation amplifies that a little bit."

Connecting with your roots and the "very material practices of those roots" through language, she says, can be healing.

"[It] definitely helps to make you feel more grounded."

Honouring tradition

Apart from reconnecting through language, I've also, like many, turned to cooking and baking as a source of comfort and reconnection.

On weekends, I've taken on the ambitious task of preparing traditional Zambian meals.

The process is time-consuming and some ingredients are hard to source, but it's been worth it. I'm even teaching my young brother who lives in France how to prepare one of the dishes via video chat.

And I'm not alone.

Many people from migrant backgrounds are going a step further by volunteering and making meals for vulnerable people during the COVID-19 crisis, like international students who don't have access to welfare services.

Dr Khorana says restaurants supporting refugees by giving out free meals are often "drawing upon their ancient recipes" to feed "people who perhaps are not able to get three meals on the table".

She says she's also heard stories of migrants growing vegetable gardens, which many find therapeutic and might have been part of their past cultural practices.

"I think some of this is because they came to Australia under certain circumstances where they faced hardships of the kind which are similar to COVID-19.

"In that sense, a lot of first generation migrants and refugees are not unfamiliar with what it is to survive in a new context, in isolation, to have to start from scratch."

As restrictions ease across the country, and we emerge into a new normal, I'd like to think that there is a place to still celebrate cultural practices, not just during times of crisis.

I plan on continuing to honour my heritage in my own symbolic way — I just don't think I'll be making labour intensive traditional meals as regularly as I'd like.