The then 21-year-old was four months into his studies when a classmate invited him to the casino.
That night, Patrick learnt the rules of blackjack and lost several hundred dollars at the casino table before his friend stopped him.
He returned on his own the following day and won some money. This time around, however, nothing could stop him from chasing the “happy” feeling.
Patrick says loneliness and boredom fuelled his addiction, and although it wasn’t his first time living abroad – as he previously studied in Japan - Sydney’s entertainment options lacked the bustle and vitality of the East Asian country.
He says it was also difficult to find a good friend in Sydney. People came and went; acquaintances often left for jobs interstate and he wouldn’t see them again.
He longed for permanent relationships in his life, and gambling filled that void, sending him down the “wrong way”.
Problem gambling is twice as likely among international students
Health advocate Paul Fung talks over Zoom about gambling in the international student community. Source: Katherine O'Chee
In the international student community, there are two common stories of gambling addiction, says Chinese-Australian reformed gambler and health advocate Paul Fung.
Mr Fung says the first category consists of students from lower socioeconomic backgrounds who may turn to gambling as a “quicker and easier way to make money” than working in a job below minimum wage.
The second category is made up of wealthier students who are sent large lump sums by their families to cover living costs, but unwisely use that money to gamble.
As their bank account balances dwindle, they may fall into a pattern of ‘chasing their losses’ or even lying to their parents about why they need extra money.
Mr Fung says these students find themselves in crisis, drowning under financial stress but too ashamed to ask for help.
“They end up not being able to pay their uni fees or pay for their accommodation. They can’t even put food on the table,” says Fong Ung, a gambling counsellor from the Overseas Chinese Association of South Australia.
“It’s sad but it’s happening. They don’t [have a] responsibility to [take care of] their family but they cannot survive themselves.”
In Patrick’s case, over half of the weekly funds from his parents went towards his addiction.
And in order to support his gambling habit, he moved from an apartment where he paid $500 per week to a shared bedroom for just $170 per week.
At the peak of his addiction, he lost nearly $20,000 after a three-day bender at The Star.
“I tried to stop myself, but it was impossible because I was really addicted. Mentally and physically, I missed [The Star’s] gambling table and even its smell,” he says.
Even after following a counsellor’s suggestion to sign a self-exclusion contract to ban himself from The Star, he tried twice to sneak into the venue - the first time, by dressing differently and the second time, by dyeing his hair blonde.
Sydney-based Chinese gambling counsellor Law May says such attempts aren’t surprising.
“Even though they’ll get fined [for breaking self-exclusion], I see clients who just keep going back again and again. That’s a representation of the addiction itself,” she says.
Patrick says he also knew of many Chinese international students so affected by gambling they repeatedly failed their classes and eventually had to discontinue their studies in Australia.
“When you do gambling, you just don’t care about your studies; you don’t care about your family. You just care about the gambling.”
’90 per cent’ never gambled before Australia
Eric Ho, a Chinese counsellor at the Multicultural Problem Gambling Service for NSW, says more than 90 per cent of his international student clients never gambled before coming to Australia. 
He says often they were introduced to the casino by their peers, and the initial excitement, the VIP service and the prospect of winning money can all be traps that begin the cycle of addiction.
Star Casino in Sydney. Source: AAP
Patrick’s first visit to a casino was also in Australia. Back in his home country, gambling is banned - as it is in a number of Asian countries including mainland China and Nepal.
Australia accounts for nearly one-fifth of the globe’s poker machines, higher per capita than anywhere else in the world.
And about 93 per cent of them can be found in pubs and clubs, making the country an abnormal case of having more poker machines inside community venues than casinos.
Some counsellors say they’re concerned with how accessible gambling is in Australia, even at popular hangout spots including bars and hotels.
“Gambling is everywhere, even when you dine out … It gives you the impression that gambling, dining and drinking go hand-in-hand,” says Ina Tan, a Cantonese counsellor with welfare provider EACH.
Trying your luck
Ms May says many casinos have constructed their environment to be culturally appealing to international students and migrants.
The setting is really Chinese-oriented. They use colour schemes of gold or red; all these lucky colours. They always use eight, 888 or three; numbers associated with luck ... And they employ Chinese-speaking staff. So people feel at home.
Patrick says he’s also noticed the phenomenon of gambling products catering to cultural notions of luck.
Many of the poker machines he encountered in Sydney would display icons such as the dragon, golden pig and red lantern, all of which symbolise good luck and good fortune to Chinese and Mongolian people.
For those who aren’t armed with a good understanding of how gambling works and its potential harms, this could be another trap, experts warn.
Some Asian cultures believe that one’s luck determines whether they win or lose, resulting in a disproportionate belief that the gambling outcome reflects their character or destiny. 
Ms Ung says that some of her clients believe the reason why they have gambled a lot of money is not due to addiction, but because of bad luck.
Red and gold are lucky colours in Chinese culture. Source: Getty Images/Cheryl Chan
One client asked for his venue self-exclusion to be revoked after just two weeks because he claimed to have read a book that taught him a formula to hit the jackpot.
“[They] tell me, ‘It’s not gambling that kills me, it’s that I did not choose the right timing or the right [number]’,” Ms Ung says.
That was also Patrick’s initial assumption. He says he mainly went to The Star to gamble because he thought his chances of beating the odds were higher there.
In the first two years [I gambled], I thought that if it’s a small venue, I would never win there. But [The Star is] bigger and a lot of people go there, and a lot of people lose money there, so if you are there at the right time, maybe you can win big money.
He now realises that he was wrong and that even if you win occasionally, he says the system is designed to put you on a losing streak.
Ms May says that with poker machines, for instance, it’s mathematically improbable to make back your gambling losses.
That’s because the pokies are set at a certain return-to-player (RTP) rate.
In a number of states like NSW, the minimum RTP is 85 per cent. This means that over the long term - which may be over many years - the game must return to the user at least 85 per cent of the amount they’ve wagered while the other 15 per cent goes into the venue’s pockets.
“If people don’t know, they just believe that this is pure luck, pure probability. But it’s actually the setting,” she says.
“You have up to a 15 per cent loss each time you put your money in. That’s guaranteed.
“This is really high compared to other countries.”
Ms May says in the US, for instance, the RTP rate is set at 90 to 95 per cent, or a 5 to 10 per cent loss.
The ‘double stigma’ in CALD communities
As for why gambling harms often remain undiscussed, stigma is a major reason.
Chinese counsellors say there is a culture of shame behind admitting that you’re not okay, driven by a fear of ‘losing face’.
‘Face’ is tied to ideas of respect, honour and reputation in Chinese culture; when you ‘lose face’, then you’ve done something that could damage your social status and even tarnish your family name.
Ms Ung adds that the fear of ‘losing face’ can be intensified when the community is also tight-knit and everyone is connected in some way, either through family, friends, or friends of family.
This sad reality that many people only turn to support services once they’ve hit a crisis point happens not just within the Chinese community, but across the general population.
Many overseas-based parents are unaware of their child's gambling habits in Australia.
According to the Victorian Responsible Gambling Foundation, among those who have problems with gambling, only about 10 per cent seek help.
“No gambler, from the first day they’re aware of their gambling problem, will seek help. They just procrastinate [and] keep it bottled up,” Mr Ho says.
Patrick says he experienced a similar barrier in his own culture. He felt that he couldn’t tell anyone about his problem.
“If I told my classmates, ‘I’ve got a gambling problem and I feel very depressed and I just keep going back there again and again and I can’t control myself’ … maybe they would just disappear [from my life],” he says.
Although Patrick has since quit gambling and shared the truth with his family and close friends, he says he’s not ready to let his community know.
In my country, people will judge you for a lot of things.
The stigma also extends to counselling. Chinese counsellors say people within Asian cultures often distrust the notion of seeing a professional for psychological issues, not only because it’s a Westernised concept but also because they think it brands you as ‘ill’ or ‘crazy’.
Mr Ho says the “double stigma in gambling and counselling” is so rife that even when clients in distress contact him, they may try to limit the number of sessions with him.
He says oftentimes they are looking for a “quick fix” over one to two sessions to resolve immediate issues like gambling debt.
Patrick adds that on top of cultural stigmas, confidentiality is another big concern. Some of his international student friends revealed that they didn’t want to seek help because they were afraid it would go on their record and affect their chances of getting a job or permanent residency in Australia.
Overcoming ‘shame factors’
For many counsellors, education is key. Social worker from the Federation of China Associations, Bear Lin says their service works with EACH on campaigns to help the community gain a better understanding of counselling.
“We’re doing it step-by-step, explaining what counselling is, what you can get from counselling services, and that the service is actually private and confidential,” Ms Lin says.
EACH's Chinese Peer Connection program provides confidential telephone peer support for people experiencing gambling harm. Source: Ivy Wong
“Counselling is a missing [piece of the] puzzle in Chinese culture … It takes time for people to accept this concept and then people will start to use this service.”
In NSW, Ms May has also been doing community engagement work, in the hope that people will begin to view counselling in a less pathologised manner.
“I think people need to see I’m not an expert just sitting at my desk and telling people what to do and saying that they’re sick and they need to take medication,” she says.
If I go and talk to people, then they can trust me and realise that [it’s okay to] find a professional to talk to about [their problem].
Her aim is to “educate the community without the shame factors” so that people know where to find help and can feel reassured it won’t affect their reputation.
Another solution is ‘redirection’
The answer to minimising gambling harm within culturally and linguistically diverse (CALD) communities doesn’t stop at education.
Some counsellors, like Ms Ung, say it’s also about equipping international students with skills such as redirection. This involves “fill[ing] their lives with things other than just gambling” whether it’s joining a uni club or dating.
Patrick says finding a partner was what ultimately helped him quit gambling.
“I feel like [I have a] family. I feel at home now,” he says.
Calls for fewer poker machines in Australia
Poker machines in Australia. Source: AAP
“The accessibility to pokie venues is astronomical because it’s a great revenue raiser for the business and also for the government. So that’s why it’s gotten so out of hand,” Mr Fung says.
“It’s not just a personal problem; it’s a systemic problem,” Ms May adds.
In the 2017/18 financial year, state governments in Australia collected $6.2 billion in revenue from gambling. This figure has been steadily rising since 2009/10.
In fact, Australia tops the globe in terms of gambling losses, according to UK-based global gambling analysts H2 Gambling Capital. They found that the average Australian adult lost more than $1,300 in 2017. Some individuals, like Patrick’s former self, were losing tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars per year.
Mr Fung says the conversation needs to shift from the economic benefits of gambling to the social cost of its harms, including within CALD communities.
“The government needs the revenue. That’s generally the ‘excuse’ - because it generates money for the economy, to build schools, hospitals, roads, etc. So, you’ve always got the data and research and statistics on that,” he says.
“But you don’t know what the harm is on each person and what it does … the effect that [gambling] does have is massively more than what money could do, and that’s very, very hard to measure.”
*Not his real name
