Before I moved to Ramingining, everyone told me about the build up. It was going to be SO hot, and the humidity would be so high I wouldn't be able to breathe properly. So I wasn't looking forward to it.
Well, I've made it much of the way through, and I'm still alive.
The heat started building up probably in August. It was starting to get to 30oC every day, although I didn't notice much change in the humidity. I was working on the Census, and outside all day, but it was definitely bearable. I started back on placement at the school at the beginning of September, and I was certainly getting hot on the way to school, but in the afternoon is when I noticed it. I got to the stage where I knew that if I walked home at the end of the school day, I would be sweaty by the end of the five minute walk. But spending most of my day in the air conditioned classroom, or at home with the fans and air conditioner on, I really didn't notice any big changes in the temperature or humidity. Until the last week.
On Monday morning, I walked to the shire office to drop off the fuel cards and money, and stood talking to the girls for only five minutes before I was dripping with sweat. After only a five minute walk, and at 7:50am! I was ok once I arrived at school and went into the cool classrooms, but this really was the point that I noticed the change. Every afternoon this week it has been sweltering, and I got sunburnt after only the five minute walk to the store. It's been 36oC every day now, and in the mornings it's already in the 30s. Most of the houses have little blow up swimming pools, with little naked kids jumping around in them every afternoon. This week I decided that Ben and I need to buy one. I can't say I've noticed any real difference in humidity, but I guess that will come in the next few months.
But today came the rain. I know that in Tassie you can have four seasons in one day, but this was different. The weather has been so predictable. The same temperature every day, and a clear blue sky. But yesterday we had a massive wind, so big that our next door neighbour Daphne said they all went outside because they were scared the house would blow down. Then today it was as normal in the morning, but by lunch I noticed some white clouds which is out of the ordinary. Within a few hours, it was dark, and the temperature dropped back down to 30oC. It just had that feel that it was going to rain. And then came the thunder. Massive claps, that scare you when you are not expecting them. At least I got used to them in the wet season, and didn't have to message Ben to see what to do. And then came the rain, and the temperature dropped even more, to 26oC.
In terms of what it means to the Yolngu people, this rain signals the change between Rarrandharr and Dhuludurr. The stories of their seasons are incredible. While our seasons are determined by the date, theirs are determined by weather patterns, and dictate the types of food they hunt for in these times. We really have a naive way of looking at things. Rharrandarr is the dry season, and the time for catching turtles, stingrays and mud crabs, and the start of the magpie geese. Moving into Dhuludurr means continuing the magpie geese hunting, but many of the other animals are not caught during this season. The water level will increase so that many of the places the used to travel to go fishing and crabbing will be under water.
Well, I've made it through the dry season, let's see how I go when this humidity starts to rise...
The People
We are the Yolngu people of Ramingining, in the northern part of Central Arnhem Land in Australia's Northern Territory.
Ramingining is a town of about 800 of our people. More of our people live on outstations different distances from town. Also about 50 Balanda live here.
The nearest other town is Maningrida, more than two hours drive away except in the rainy season, when we can only fly there.
In Ramingining we have a store, a clinic, a school, a new police station, an arts centre, a resource centre, houses and not much else.
But we have history and culture here, that our ancestors have been growing for more than forty thousand years.
They passed that culture on from generation to generation. Now it's our turn to pass it on, not just to the next generation, but to people everywhere, all over the world.
Taken from http://www.12canoes.com.au/
We are the Yolngu people of Ramingining, in the northern part of Central Arnhem Land in Australia's Northern Territory.
Ramingining is a town of about 800 of our people. More of our people live on outstations different distances from town. Also about 50 Balanda live here.
The nearest other town is Maningrida, more than two hours drive away except in the rainy season, when we can only fly there.
In Ramingining we have a store, a clinic, a school, a new police station, an arts centre, a resource centre, houses and not much else.
But we have history and culture here, that our ancestors have been growing for more than forty thousand years.
They passed that culture on from generation to generation. Now it's our turn to pass it on, not just to the next generation, but to people everywhere, all over the world.
That's because our way of life is changing fast now, and what you can see on this website is for every generation to remember and keep our culture alive.
Taken from http://www.12canoes.com.au/
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Sunday, June 12, 2011
day one hundred and thirty - welcoming the body home
12th June 2011 - 9:15pm
On Tuesday this week, our departed school Councillor, who is now known as Wuduwal, arrived back in the community after leaving for an autopsy. There was a huge amount of preparation for his arrival back in Ramingining. The balcony of his house was covered with plastic flowers, and huge pieces of material adorned with religious messages from the church. Tens of tents surrounded the house, with family members from nearby communities arriving for the bunggul (ceremony). Every day I went past there were people all around the house, all sitting cross-legged, presumably all just waiting for Wuduwal to return.
He was to arrive back in the community at 12pm, so at 11:30am students had an early lunch and then the older ones went around painting the faces of the younger students. I felt like I was really a part of the community when Linda (an Indigenous tutor) offered to paint my face too. We each had a white line across our foreheads, and then she used her hands to paint downwards on my face and through my hair. I'm still not exactly sure what it represents, but it's obviously something respectful.
I also helped Jenny and Megan put plastic flowers and some flowers I had made with the female students out of crepe paper onto the 'hearse' which was just the newest troopie that the school owned.
We all lined the streets in single files - all of the school students and staff, as well as staff from the Council, ALPA store, bank and Centrelink. There was a bit of a false start because the plane was running late, so we went back inside for a while because it was so hot. Then we heard the plane fly over, and everyone ran for their lives back out to the road. They probably didn't need to rush so much, because although the 'airport' is only a five minute drive away, they had to begin the welcoming ceremony there. We heard the procession of cars coming, because when any body arrives here, the cars all toot their horns as a signal. It was actually really emotional with the car coming past, especially since a lot of the women had already started wailing. A group of dancing women and men from his family walked before the car, all painted up like us. As the car drove past, we followed it in single files. At a few points, the car stopped, and the dancers performed their chanting and dancing in front of the car, another part of the welcoming ceremony.
We started to walk ahead of the car, while they continued the welcome, and lined the street leading up to his house. As the hearse pulled up to the house, I was exposed to the most incredibly eye opening scene. It was so unlike anything I'd ever seen. Women (family members) started walking from the house throwing themselves on the ground. And I mean throwing themselves. They were landing so hard, you could hear the thud. And they were doing it continuously until they reached the hearse, and then they draped themselves on it, wailing. Two of the women were hitting their heads, really hard, with billy pots as well. At the time, I didn't have a clue why they were doing this, and it was really quite disturbing, given the way we grieve in a quiet, personal fashion. Afterwards, Louise told me that the more they show they're hurting on the outside, the more it shows their hurt on the inside. I guess although a strange way (to us) of showing it, I guess it makes sense. Because you can't really show how you're feeling, this is a really visual way of doing it. It also then makes sense why they wail so openly and loudly. The men were continuing their dancing and chanting as the car backed into the driveway. As the coffin came out of the car, the men continued chanting, and the women throwing themselves on the ground, as the body entered the house, where his wife Miya had been waiting. She hadn't left the house from the time he passed away until he arrived home. We didn't stay much longer after this, as the ceremony continued inside the house. Although we did see some of the men lit a fire outside to smoke out the hearse, as they did at the school (in my last post).
A memorial service, which was slightly more formal and more Balanda-like, was held on Thursday at Miya's house. Some of the teachers had begun to teach the secondary school students how to sing the most beautiful song to be sung at the service. It is an Indigenous song sung by the Saltwater Band from Elcho Island, and is about Yolngu ga (and) Balanda working together.
Let's Work Together
Let's work together, Yolngu ga balanda
Show the world, Australia
Let's stand together
One community
Yolngu share our culture, with all Australia
Trying to understand each others word
Let each fly high
The Australian flag
Let's work together, Yolngu ga Balanda
Let's work together, make a better place
(the next verse is in Yolngu Matha - I haven't added it because I don't know the translation)
The students practiced every morning in home group, and we cancelled a few classes so they could perfect it. Sinead played the keyboard and Juran and Cat (all teachers) played guitars. On the morning of the service, students spent the morning doing a final practice of their song, and their plan for walking on and off the ramp to the balcony, where they were going to stand and sing. At 10am we made our way as a procession down to Miya's house, followed by Council, ALPA and clinic staff. We were all seated under some huge trees, and thankfully some of the staff had also gone down earlier to put up some shade.
The service was also beautiful, but much more like the funerals we know. A lot of long speeches, not keeping to time at all. There were so many wonderful words to be said about the man, that people could simply not be kept to two minutes. The students were fantastic, sitting for three hours with only a short break for a fruit box and an apple. Members of his family danced again, this time the ladies used the leaves that we used at the school smoking ceremony. They had choreographed a dance to a song that they play around here all of the time. The men also used the clap sticks and didgeridoo for their dancing. There were a lot of tears and beautiful words said by so many people. He had obviously touched many. I would say there were a few hundred people there - a huge number given there are only around 800 in the community normally. The service finished with the students singing their song. I feel as though the lyrics really summed up what was said in everyone's speech throughout the day, and was a perfect way to finish.
On Tuesday this week, our departed school Councillor, who is now known as Wuduwal, arrived back in the community after leaving for an autopsy. There was a huge amount of preparation for his arrival back in Ramingining. The balcony of his house was covered with plastic flowers, and huge pieces of material adorned with religious messages from the church. Tens of tents surrounded the house, with family members from nearby communities arriving for the bunggul (ceremony). Every day I went past there were people all around the house, all sitting cross-legged, presumably all just waiting for Wuduwal to return.
He was to arrive back in the community at 12pm, so at 11:30am students had an early lunch and then the older ones went around painting the faces of the younger students. I felt like I was really a part of the community when Linda (an Indigenous tutor) offered to paint my face too. We each had a white line across our foreheads, and then she used her hands to paint downwards on my face and through my hair. I'm still not exactly sure what it represents, but it's obviously something respectful.
I also helped Jenny and Megan put plastic flowers and some flowers I had made with the female students out of crepe paper onto the 'hearse' which was just the newest troopie that the school owned.
We all lined the streets in single files - all of the school students and staff, as well as staff from the Council, ALPA store, bank and Centrelink. There was a bit of a false start because the plane was running late, so we went back inside for a while because it was so hot. Then we heard the plane fly over, and everyone ran for their lives back out to the road. They probably didn't need to rush so much, because although the 'airport' is only a five minute drive away, they had to begin the welcoming ceremony there. We heard the procession of cars coming, because when any body arrives here, the cars all toot their horns as a signal. It was actually really emotional with the car coming past, especially since a lot of the women had already started wailing. A group of dancing women and men from his family walked before the car, all painted up like us. As the car drove past, we followed it in single files. At a few points, the car stopped, and the dancers performed their chanting and dancing in front of the car, another part of the welcoming ceremony.
We started to walk ahead of the car, while they continued the welcome, and lined the street leading up to his house. As the hearse pulled up to the house, I was exposed to the most incredibly eye opening scene. It was so unlike anything I'd ever seen. Women (family members) started walking from the house throwing themselves on the ground. And I mean throwing themselves. They were landing so hard, you could hear the thud. And they were doing it continuously until they reached the hearse, and then they draped themselves on it, wailing. Two of the women were hitting their heads, really hard, with billy pots as well. At the time, I didn't have a clue why they were doing this, and it was really quite disturbing, given the way we grieve in a quiet, personal fashion. Afterwards, Louise told me that the more they show they're hurting on the outside, the more it shows their hurt on the inside. I guess although a strange way (to us) of showing it, I guess it makes sense. Because you can't really show how you're feeling, this is a really visual way of doing it. It also then makes sense why they wail so openly and loudly. The men were continuing their dancing and chanting as the car backed into the driveway. As the coffin came out of the car, the men continued chanting, and the women throwing themselves on the ground, as the body entered the house, where his wife Miya had been waiting. She hadn't left the house from the time he passed away until he arrived home. We didn't stay much longer after this, as the ceremony continued inside the house. Although we did see some of the men lit a fire outside to smoke out the hearse, as they did at the school (in my last post).
A memorial service, which was slightly more formal and more Balanda-like, was held on Thursday at Miya's house. Some of the teachers had begun to teach the secondary school students how to sing the most beautiful song to be sung at the service. It is an Indigenous song sung by the Saltwater Band from Elcho Island, and is about Yolngu ga (and) Balanda working together.
Let's Work Together
Let's work together, Yolngu ga balanda
Show the world, Australia
Let's stand together
One community
Yolngu share our culture, with all Australia
Trying to understand each others word
Let each fly high
The Australian flag
Let's work together, Yolngu ga Balanda
Let's work together, make a better place
(the next verse is in Yolngu Matha - I haven't added it because I don't know the translation)
The students practiced every morning in home group, and we cancelled a few classes so they could perfect it. Sinead played the keyboard and Juran and Cat (all teachers) played guitars. On the morning of the service, students spent the morning doing a final practice of their song, and their plan for walking on and off the ramp to the balcony, where they were going to stand and sing. At 10am we made our way as a procession down to Miya's house, followed by Council, ALPA and clinic staff. We were all seated under some huge trees, and thankfully some of the staff had also gone down earlier to put up some shade.
The service was also beautiful, but much more like the funerals we know. A lot of long speeches, not keeping to time at all. There were so many wonderful words to be said about the man, that people could simply not be kept to two minutes. The students were fantastic, sitting for three hours with only a short break for a fruit box and an apple. Members of his family danced again, this time the ladies used the leaves that we used at the school smoking ceremony. They had choreographed a dance to a song that they play around here all of the time. The men also used the clap sticks and didgeridoo for their dancing. There were a lot of tears and beautiful words said by so many people. He had obviously touched many. I would say there were a few hundred people there - a huge number given there are only around 800 in the community normally. The service finished with the students singing their song. I feel as though the lyrics really summed up what was said in everyone's speech throughout the day, and was a perfect way to finish.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
day one hundred and fourteen - farewell to a very special man
27th May 2011 - 11:45pm
This week we've had to say goodbye to one of the most loved and well-respected members of Ramingining community.
He was an Indigenous member of the East Arnhem Shire Council (who Ben works for), and was the Head of the School Council. But I remember meeting him and his wife Miya on my first day in Ramingining and feeling completely welcome. He had a big friendly voice, and a huge white-teethed smile. Miya is beautiful too, and as the cultural advisor at the school, I see her most days. She always greets me with 'hello Helen'. For the first few weeks she checked if she was getting my name right, and I corrected her. But now it just feels normal that she calls me Helen. I really don't know how the community will manage without him. Although not a traditional owner of the land, he was a figurehead for the community, pushing for anything and everything in the interests of the community. We've talked to the Year 11 and 12s about being the next leaders of the community, and now they're going to have to make that big step up.
He passed away Wednesday night after not feeling quite right for the last few weeks. He went to a Council meeting in Jabiru, but flew home early because he was not feeling well. The clinic gave him the all clear to fly, and he made it home - just. From what I've heard, he passed away not long after arriving back at his home. I really do feel that sometimes people know that they're dying, and have the power to hold off until they're with their family. And he did just that.
Out of respect for his family, the school was closed yesterday. There was a staff briefing to tell those who were not aware of the situation, and I've never seen a group of people looking so drained before. School was meant to be back on again today, but in the staff briefing, the Principal said that the smoking ceremony had not occurred yesterday, so we had to wait with the students (those who had come to school) on the basketball courts until it was done.
I was so honoured to have the chance to take part in the ceremony. The high school boys were asked by Linda (an Indigenous lady who works at the school, and is also Ben's adopted auntie) to collect the branches and bark for the fire. The girls were allowed to help collect the bark, but only the boys could do the ceremony. Some other family members and men from the community also came along for the ceremony.
They lit the fire in the middle of the school grounds, and we all had to gather around, females on the right, males on the left. The men were jumping and singing, and the ladies were swaying and saying 'yo' I think, which means yes. Then the boys took smoking branches of leaves and used them to hit all of the entrances to the buildings of the school, and then ran through the buildings doing the same. The smoking is meant to get rid of the spirits I think. Then we all had to take a small piece of branch and use it to hit both sides of our chest. Then the Indigenous men and women came around with the branches and did the same to our shoulders and backs.
It was a really emotional experience to be part of. No-one was crying, although I certainly felt a tear in my eye. It's the most amazing ritual, and I felt really special to be included. The funeral is likely to take place over the next few weeks, and hopefully I'll be able to experience that as well.
*I haven't mentioned his name is respect of the community's tradition.
This week we've had to say goodbye to one of the most loved and well-respected members of Ramingining community.
He was an Indigenous member of the East Arnhem Shire Council (who Ben works for), and was the Head of the School Council. But I remember meeting him and his wife Miya on my first day in Ramingining and feeling completely welcome. He had a big friendly voice, and a huge white-teethed smile. Miya is beautiful too, and as the cultural advisor at the school, I see her most days. She always greets me with 'hello Helen'. For the first few weeks she checked if she was getting my name right, and I corrected her. But now it just feels normal that she calls me Helen. I really don't know how the community will manage without him. Although not a traditional owner of the land, he was a figurehead for the community, pushing for anything and everything in the interests of the community. We've talked to the Year 11 and 12s about being the next leaders of the community, and now they're going to have to make that big step up.
He passed away Wednesday night after not feeling quite right for the last few weeks. He went to a Council meeting in Jabiru, but flew home early because he was not feeling well. The clinic gave him the all clear to fly, and he made it home - just. From what I've heard, he passed away not long after arriving back at his home. I really do feel that sometimes people know that they're dying, and have the power to hold off until they're with their family. And he did just that.
Out of respect for his family, the school was closed yesterday. There was a staff briefing to tell those who were not aware of the situation, and I've never seen a group of people looking so drained before. School was meant to be back on again today, but in the staff briefing, the Principal said that the smoking ceremony had not occurred yesterday, so we had to wait with the students (those who had come to school) on the basketball courts until it was done.
I was so honoured to have the chance to take part in the ceremony. The high school boys were asked by Linda (an Indigenous lady who works at the school, and is also Ben's adopted auntie) to collect the branches and bark for the fire. The girls were allowed to help collect the bark, but only the boys could do the ceremony. Some other family members and men from the community also came along for the ceremony.
They lit the fire in the middle of the school grounds, and we all had to gather around, females on the right, males on the left. The men were jumping and singing, and the ladies were swaying and saying 'yo' I think, which means yes. Then the boys took smoking branches of leaves and used them to hit all of the entrances to the buildings of the school, and then ran through the buildings doing the same. The smoking is meant to get rid of the spirits I think. Then we all had to take a small piece of branch and use it to hit both sides of our chest. Then the Indigenous men and women came around with the branches and did the same to our shoulders and backs.
It was a really emotional experience to be part of. No-one was crying, although I certainly felt a tear in my eye. It's the most amazing ritual, and I felt really special to be included. The funeral is likely to take place over the next few weeks, and hopefully I'll be able to experience that as well.
*I haven't mentioned his name is respect of the community's tradition.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
day one hundred and twelve - coloured sports day
25th May 2011 - 11:20pm
Well, it really has been too long since I've written, but I've been a busy, busy girl!
I started up at the school on teaching placement during April, and within my first few weeks I got to take part in the 'Coloured sports day'. Although it sounds really racist, at first I thought that it meant Indigenous sports. How rude did I feel when I realised it was just what we'd call a normal sports carnival in Tassie, where the kids are divided into four colours - red, yellow, blue and green. Whoops. But it was an honest mistake.
I knew I wouldn't be much help organising the students, because I had not gained their trust yet, and relationships are so important up here. But to get involved, I offered to take photos during the day. So I have some incredible photos, but for cultural reasons I'm not allowed to put them up, so you'll just have to imagine what they look like until I can show you in person.
The first hour of the day was spent face painting. What an awesome morning! The captains and vice captains were in charge of getting everyone painted. What surprised me was that they were using plain old painting style paint! In Tassie, I'm sure that wouldn't be heard of - you'd have to use face paint or makeup! They painted all of the teachers too, and most of their clothes as well.
Then we all headed to the community oval for the day. It was completely different to how I remember our school sports carnivals. I guess to begin with, I DESPISED sport, and whenever I could I either got Mum to call in sick (I can't remember if I pretended to be sick, or was so upset Mum was doing the pretending), or didn't put in any effort. I must have been hoping that people would think that I might have been good if I'd actually tried... But it was so completely different here. The kids were all, honestly, cheering each other on. Every single one of them. The slow ones, the fast ones, the fat ones, the skinny ones. And just for giving it a crack. Yeah the kids got ribbons if they won, but I didn't see any sign of bullying or teasing because someone didn't do well. That's one of the things I love most about the people up here - they are so accepting of everyone, no matter what. It really is a beautiful thing to see.
Even the transition (prep in Tassie) class did their tiny little relay. The teachers had a relay race against the students. And the cutest thing was to see the young disabled boy, Geoff, having a race against one of the teachers (another Geoff, who is about 6'6"), and the little Geoff winning and getting a ribbon. The crowd were all cheering, and it was really honest, heartfelt cheering. And, I almost forgot to say, they were ALL barefoot. Even the year 10 student Ricky who's about 7' tall and ran like the wind.
Morning tea was icypoles and massive drums of water, and was all provided to the kids. They were all under a makeshift stage covered in tarps for shelter. The oval wasn't all mowed because it would've taken too long with the hand mower, so only the 400m line was mowed. Lunch was a BBQ back at school, again, all provided to the kids and staff.
The afternoon was spent with the little kids doing egg and spoon and sack races on the basketball courts, while I was down with the older ones on the the oval doing javelin, shotput and discus. There were a few issues between teachers about the positioning of the events for safety, but it's nothing like the setting up that you would see in a mainstream school.
The kids who did well, and continue to attend school, will be part of the Arnhem Sports carnival (all of the schools in Arnhem Land) in a few weeks time, so I'll look forward to helping out then too.
Well, it really has been too long since I've written, but I've been a busy, busy girl!
I started up at the school on teaching placement during April, and within my first few weeks I got to take part in the 'Coloured sports day'. Although it sounds really racist, at first I thought that it meant Indigenous sports. How rude did I feel when I realised it was just what we'd call a normal sports carnival in Tassie, where the kids are divided into four colours - red, yellow, blue and green. Whoops. But it was an honest mistake.
I knew I wouldn't be much help organising the students, because I had not gained their trust yet, and relationships are so important up here. But to get involved, I offered to take photos during the day. So I have some incredible photos, but for cultural reasons I'm not allowed to put them up, so you'll just have to imagine what they look like until I can show you in person.
The first hour of the day was spent face painting. What an awesome morning! The captains and vice captains were in charge of getting everyone painted. What surprised me was that they were using plain old painting style paint! In Tassie, I'm sure that wouldn't be heard of - you'd have to use face paint or makeup! They painted all of the teachers too, and most of their clothes as well.
Then we all headed to the community oval for the day. It was completely different to how I remember our school sports carnivals. I guess to begin with, I DESPISED sport, and whenever I could I either got Mum to call in sick (I can't remember if I pretended to be sick, or was so upset Mum was doing the pretending), or didn't put in any effort. I must have been hoping that people would think that I might have been good if I'd actually tried... But it was so completely different here. The kids were all, honestly, cheering each other on. Every single one of them. The slow ones, the fast ones, the fat ones, the skinny ones. And just for giving it a crack. Yeah the kids got ribbons if they won, but I didn't see any sign of bullying or teasing because someone didn't do well. That's one of the things I love most about the people up here - they are so accepting of everyone, no matter what. It really is a beautiful thing to see.
Even the transition (prep in Tassie) class did their tiny little relay. The teachers had a relay race against the students. And the cutest thing was to see the young disabled boy, Geoff, having a race against one of the teachers (another Geoff, who is about 6'6"), and the little Geoff winning and getting a ribbon. The crowd were all cheering, and it was really honest, heartfelt cheering. And, I almost forgot to say, they were ALL barefoot. Even the year 10 student Ricky who's about 7' tall and ran like the wind.
Morning tea was icypoles and massive drums of water, and was all provided to the kids. They were all under a makeshift stage covered in tarps for shelter. The oval wasn't all mowed because it would've taken too long with the hand mower, so only the 400m line was mowed. Lunch was a BBQ back at school, again, all provided to the kids and staff.
The afternoon was spent with the little kids doing egg and spoon and sack races on the basketball courts, while I was down with the older ones on the the oval doing javelin, shotput and discus. There were a few issues between teachers about the positioning of the events for safety, but it's nothing like the setting up that you would see in a mainstream school.
The kids who did well, and continue to attend school, will be part of the Arnhem Sports carnival (all of the schools in Arnhem Land) in a few weeks time, so I'll look forward to helping out then too.
Monday, May 2, 2011
day eighty eight - the barge road
1st May 2011 - 1:40am
After a few stressful weeks for Ben at work dealing with the whole community complaining about the state of the roads, it's finally driveable again. We've been really lucky that the rain completely stopped. It had been raining daily, then one day it just decided to stop. And the dragonflies started to appear, which signals the start of the dry.
Ben brought in Dave from Gove to help with the monstrous project. Dave's probably the most Aussie guy I've ever seen. Unshaven, flanny and shorts only slightly longer than Stubbies. Huge beard and a long rat's tail. Looks like he's just got off the back of a Harley. Dave travels around the communities in the Northern Territory working on the community access roads, so was the perfect person for the job. What an amazing job he did. To single-handedly get the road from the disaster it was a few weeks ago, to driveable with only a couple of foot-deep puddles was an amazing feat.
Last weekend Ben and I went for a drive to check it out. I was quite excited, because it would be the first time in ten weeks that I've seen the water. It might seem strange, but I've always lived near the water, and although I'm not one to jump in whenever I can, I love it. I feel safer on the water than I do anywhere else. It reminds me of how relaxed I always am when I'm at the shack. Heading along the road, I was so surprised to see the difference in the land as we headed towards the water. Around Ramingining the bush all looks the same. And I mean exactly the same. There's green grass that's about a foot tall, some cycads that are a foot to a few feet tall, and then there are the gums and palms that are around three metres tall. And everything is green. The same bright shade of green.
But heading towards the water, all of a sudden it changed. We drove past a billabong with it's beautiful water lillies (and maybe a croc or two), and not far after that, the trees stopped. Although it wasn't farming land, it immediately changed to grass. And it was brown, not green like all of the land around Ramingining. And then we reached the water.
Sitting next to the barge landing under the shade of a tree were two locals who said they were waiting until later to catch some mud crabs. I went down for a bit of a sticky beak, and was lucky enough to see a huge one scurrying under a rock. I called out, and the locals ran down with sticks and bare feet, reading to jump in. It was hiding under a rock, so the guy used the sticks to scare the crab out. We had to leave him to it, but he told me that once it came out from its hiding place, he would just pick it up by the huge front claws. Bugger that for a joke.
How lucky was I, that Dave would be leaving the following day, and had a spare crab that he'd caught that I could have. I don't remember having crab before, but he told me it would be similar to crayfish - my favourite food in the world! He brought it around, and I managed to clean the whole thing by myself. Well, I didn't really have a choice, since Ben was dry retching even at the thought. It was worth it - it tasted amazing! Now it's heading into the dry season, I'll certainly be looking for someone to take me fishing...
After a few stressful weeks for Ben at work dealing with the whole community complaining about the state of the roads, it's finally driveable again. We've been really lucky that the rain completely stopped. It had been raining daily, then one day it just decided to stop. And the dragonflies started to appear, which signals the start of the dry.
Ben brought in Dave from Gove to help with the monstrous project. Dave's probably the most Aussie guy I've ever seen. Unshaven, flanny and shorts only slightly longer than Stubbies. Huge beard and a long rat's tail. Looks like he's just got off the back of a Harley. Dave travels around the communities in the Northern Territory working on the community access roads, so was the perfect person for the job. What an amazing job he did. To single-handedly get the road from the disaster it was a few weeks ago, to driveable with only a couple of foot-deep puddles was an amazing feat.
Last weekend Ben and I went for a drive to check it out. I was quite excited, because it would be the first time in ten weeks that I've seen the water. It might seem strange, but I've always lived near the water, and although I'm not one to jump in whenever I can, I love it. I feel safer on the water than I do anywhere else. It reminds me of how relaxed I always am when I'm at the shack. Heading along the road, I was so surprised to see the difference in the land as we headed towards the water. Around Ramingining the bush all looks the same. And I mean exactly the same. There's green grass that's about a foot tall, some cycads that are a foot to a few feet tall, and then there are the gums and palms that are around three metres tall. And everything is green. The same bright shade of green.
The usual Ramingining greenery
But heading towards the water, all of a sudden it changed. We drove past a billabong with it's beautiful water lillies (and maybe a croc or two), and not far after that, the trees stopped. Although it wasn't farming land, it immediately changed to grass. And it was brown, not green like all of the land around Ramingining. And then we reached the water.
Sitting next to the barge landing under the shade of a tree were two locals who said they were waiting until later to catch some mud crabs. I went down for a bit of a sticky beak, and was lucky enough to see a huge one scurrying under a rock. I called out, and the locals ran down with sticks and bare feet, reading to jump in. It was hiding under a rock, so the guy used the sticks to scare the crab out. We had to leave him to it, but he told me that once it came out from its hiding place, he would just pick it up by the huge front claws. Bugger that for a joke.
How lucky was I, that Dave would be leaving the following day, and had a spare crab that he'd caught that I could have. I don't remember having crab before, but he told me it would be similar to crayfish - my favourite food in the world! He brought it around, and I managed to clean the whole thing by myself. Well, I didn't really have a choice, since Ben was dry retching even at the thought. It was worth it - it tasted amazing! Now it's heading into the dry season, I'll certainly be looking for someone to take me fishing...
Monday, April 4, 2011
day sixty - stranded
4th April 2011 - 11:40pm
We're stuck. No kidding.
This wet season (summer) has been the wettest on record. Well, at least for a long time anyway. Since I've been here it's rained probably every second day. But the last fortnight has been shocking - rain every afternoon. And when it rains here, it BUCKETS down. I've never seen anything like it. I'll never complain again about the rain in Tassie. Although admittedly, it's still 30oC every day. The plus side of the rain is that everything here is amazingly green. The bush over our back fence is the most beautiful bright green I've ever seen. But the negative side is that the roads can't handle it.
The roads here are made of some kind of bright orange stuff. None of this cement and concrete stuff like at home. The grader is meant to make the road into a convex type shape, with 'drains' along the side that then have offshoots into the bush to drain the water off. But when the rain buckets down, the whole thing turns to mud, and the grading really makes no difference at all. The result is the road to the airport being closed, and the road to the barge landing is also closed. So no way out.
But also no way in. The barge is our method of getting groceries into the local shop, and the only way to feed the community. The shop is pretty small, so within a few weeks, the shop could run out of food. It's also the only way in for fuel. The fuel is obviously used for cars, although the community is pretty small, so you could probably walk everywhere you needed to. The major issue is that we're running low on fuel for the grader and digger, which are our only ways of improving the road. And we only have enough fuel to provide electricity for the community for another week. So, it's kinda drastic. And given Ben's job, the poor darling has to deal with the whole lot, including everyone in the community whinging to him about it...
But things should be ok. Ben's got 40 tonnes of rocks coming in on Tuesday, so hopefully that will be enough to improve the road for a few kilometres so the fuel and food can get in. And hopefully there'll be some assistance after that as well. Stay tuned, and in the mean time, check out the YouTube video and photos...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aMtqgD6WZqI
We're stuck. No kidding.
This wet season (summer) has been the wettest on record. Well, at least for a long time anyway. Since I've been here it's rained probably every second day. But the last fortnight has been shocking - rain every afternoon. And when it rains here, it BUCKETS down. I've never seen anything like it. I'll never complain again about the rain in Tassie. Although admittedly, it's still 30oC every day. The plus side of the rain is that everything here is amazingly green. The bush over our back fence is the most beautiful bright green I've ever seen. But the negative side is that the roads can't handle it.
The roads here are made of some kind of bright orange stuff. None of this cement and concrete stuff like at home. The grader is meant to make the road into a convex type shape, with 'drains' along the side that then have offshoots into the bush to drain the water off. But when the rain buckets down, the whole thing turns to mud, and the grading really makes no difference at all. The result is the road to the airport being closed, and the road to the barge landing is also closed. So no way out.
But also no way in. The barge is our method of getting groceries into the local shop, and the only way to feed the community. The shop is pretty small, so within a few weeks, the shop could run out of food. It's also the only way in for fuel. The fuel is obviously used for cars, although the community is pretty small, so you could probably walk everywhere you needed to. The major issue is that we're running low on fuel for the grader and digger, which are our only ways of improving the road. And we only have enough fuel to provide electricity for the community for another week. So, it's kinda drastic. And given Ben's job, the poor darling has to deal with the whole lot, including everyone in the community whinging to him about it...
But things should be ok. Ben's got 40 tonnes of rocks coming in on Tuesday, so hopefully that will be enough to improve the road for a few kilometres so the fuel and food can get in. And hopefully there'll be some assistance after that as well. Stay tuned, and in the mean time, check out the YouTube video and photos...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aMtqgD6WZqI
day sixty - the indigenous funeral
4th April 2011 - 11:15pm
Well, what a couple of culturally amazing weeks. Obviously it's not a happy time for the families, but we've spent the last few weeks in the midst of funerals galore. There have been at least three in the community, and from a community of only 800 people, that's a sizeable number. Although I guess they say that things come in threes...
One of the funerals was next door to our house, so we got the whole experience. We were told that our neighbours mother had passed away on the Saturday, and that the funeral is usually held at the house of one of the deceased person's children. Things were fairly quiet over the weekend though, because they had to finish the funeral down the road before they started the one here. The same people go to a lot of funerals, so only one can happen at a time. But when it had started, we couldn't miss it. Family started to arrive on the weekend, so the already full house now had three tents on the balcony, and there would have been at least 50 people staying there, I'd say. The body arrived at the house over the weekend too, and that's when things started.
The body was in some kind of coffin, and a couple of ladies started the wailing. They were throwing themselves forwards. Although I guess it was what I should have expected after seeing similar things on movies and documentaries, it still surprised me. I'm still not sure if they do it because they're upset, or it's a way of expressing themselves like dance and music. Then the music started. The family were all outside the front of the house, the women seated under the tree in a semi-circle, and the men in another semi-circle facing the driveway, away from the house. All of a sudden (well to me it was anyway), one of the men would start playing the clap sticks, and another would chime in with the didgeridoo. Then a group of men, including some teenage boys, started dancing. They jumped forward, holding and waving leaves and chanting. I don't really know how else to describe it, but every time I heard them sing, it would remind me of Yothu Yindi's song 'Treaty'. They were making different movements, I assume representing different animals or spirits, and were all completely in time. After playing in the pipe band for years, and having learnt that it takes years to perfect the memory that certain musical sounds from the bagpipes relate to certain beats and spins for me on the tenor drum, I had no idea how they did it. It was like they just knew what each other was going to do, without it being completely choreographed. It was absolutely incredible.
The singing and music went on for days. As a general rule, the local indigenous people don't get up until around 10am, but don't go to bed until the wee hours of the morning. So this meant that their music started at around lunch time, but didn't stop until they went to bed at around 2 or 3am. Every single night for the week. What an incredible demonstration of love for their deceased relative. I know that for us, we're exhausted after a 1 hour funeral.
The body left the house the next Saturday for the burial in a nearby outstation. They placed the body in a 4WD, again with the women wailing. The 4WD drove off with its horn tooting the whole way to the outstation. Ben said that often they drive around the town with the horn going to signal that someone has died, and it seems as though they do the same thing when the body leaves as well.
After the body had left, they performed a smoking ceremony. They lit some branches, the same ones they were dancing with, and waved them in any place that the body had been. Throughout the house, inside the car, all around the house. Ben said they would also have performed the ceremony in the shop or anywhere else in the community if the person had been in there recently.
And then it was all over. Until the next funeral down the road a few days later...
Well, what a couple of culturally amazing weeks. Obviously it's not a happy time for the families, but we've spent the last few weeks in the midst of funerals galore. There have been at least three in the community, and from a community of only 800 people, that's a sizeable number. Although I guess they say that things come in threes...
One of the funerals was next door to our house, so we got the whole experience. We were told that our neighbours mother had passed away on the Saturday, and that the funeral is usually held at the house of one of the deceased person's children. Things were fairly quiet over the weekend though, because they had to finish the funeral down the road before they started the one here. The same people go to a lot of funerals, so only one can happen at a time. But when it had started, we couldn't miss it. Family started to arrive on the weekend, so the already full house now had three tents on the balcony, and there would have been at least 50 people staying there, I'd say. The body arrived at the house over the weekend too, and that's when things started.
The body was in some kind of coffin, and a couple of ladies started the wailing. They were throwing themselves forwards. Although I guess it was what I should have expected after seeing similar things on movies and documentaries, it still surprised me. I'm still not sure if they do it because they're upset, or it's a way of expressing themselves like dance and music. Then the music started. The family were all outside the front of the house, the women seated under the tree in a semi-circle, and the men in another semi-circle facing the driveway, away from the house. All of a sudden (well to me it was anyway), one of the men would start playing the clap sticks, and another would chime in with the didgeridoo. Then a group of men, including some teenage boys, started dancing. They jumped forward, holding and waving leaves and chanting. I don't really know how else to describe it, but every time I heard them sing, it would remind me of Yothu Yindi's song 'Treaty'. They were making different movements, I assume representing different animals or spirits, and were all completely in time. After playing in the pipe band for years, and having learnt that it takes years to perfect the memory that certain musical sounds from the bagpipes relate to certain beats and spins for me on the tenor drum, I had no idea how they did it. It was like they just knew what each other was going to do, without it being completely choreographed. It was absolutely incredible.
The singing and music went on for days. As a general rule, the local indigenous people don't get up until around 10am, but don't go to bed until the wee hours of the morning. So this meant that their music started at around lunch time, but didn't stop until they went to bed at around 2 or 3am. Every single night for the week. What an incredible demonstration of love for their deceased relative. I know that for us, we're exhausted after a 1 hour funeral.
The body left the house the next Saturday for the burial in a nearby outstation. They placed the body in a 4WD, again with the women wailing. The 4WD drove off with its horn tooting the whole way to the outstation. Ben said that often they drive around the town with the horn going to signal that someone has died, and it seems as though they do the same thing when the body leaves as well.
After the body had left, they performed a smoking ceremony. They lit some branches, the same ones they were dancing with, and waved them in any place that the body had been. Throughout the house, inside the car, all around the house. Ben said they would also have performed the ceremony in the shop or anywhere else in the community if the person had been in there recently.
And then it was all over. Until the next funeral down the road a few days later...
Friday, March 18, 2011
day forty three - one month in
18th March 2011 - 7:30pm
Well, I've made it! One month in (after my little holiday beforehand) and going strong! I'm really enjoying my new life here. Obviously there are so many differences to my life in Tassie, and it's so exciting to think of how much I will learn.
I've been really busy with my Uni course. There is so much more work than I was expecting. But I'm doing ALL of the reading, and ALL of the tasks assigned, so I guess I'm probably doing a lot more than some of the other students. But maybe it's because the course is only for one year. I've got subjects on child development (cognitive, physical, social and emotional), incorporating literacy and assessment and reporting. I'm actually finding it fascinating - maybe I've found my calling in life. I'll be chatting to the Principal from the local school next week to hopefully organise the practical component of my course (30 days this semester, and 50 next semester) and to do some work up there as well.
We've got some interesting things going on in Ramo at the moment. The Homelands Resource Centre, which was in charge of all of the outstations, has gone bust. Which means the Council (where Ben works) has had to take on a lot more. Also, the road that goes to the barge - where basically everything is sent into the community - is in really bad shape. The roads apparently weren't fully fixed last dry season, and this has been the wettest wet season on record. So the roads are covered in water, and cars and trucks are continually being bogged. The major problem is that the ALPA (Arnhem Land Progress Association) store uses that road to get all of the groceries in for the community. It's also the way our Coles Online orders come in. So if we don't get the road fixed soon, we'll have NO food in the community. Could be interesting. It's just lucky that I always go overboard shopping, so we've got enough food to probably live for two years. Although I'm not sure what I'm going to make with flour, golden syrup and tinned beetroot...
I have also just signed the papers to become a Special Area Supervisor for the national census that will be happening in August. It basically means I have to map out all of the houses in Ramingining and the outstations (some of which are probably 100km away), and employ the collector/interviewers. It means I'll have a lot of opportunity to talk to the locals, working out who lives where and who owns what land. Then we'll have to assign the collector/interviewers to appropriate houses. Because there are poison cousins, and people are from different families, only some people will be allowed in certain houses. And because literacy is low here, each household needs to be interviewed. In most of Australia, the forms are dropped off, and someone picks them up. Here, you can have up to 30 people living in a house, and it can take up to 8 hours to do the interview so that all of the questions are answered properly. So it'll be a huge challenge, but a fantastic way to integrate into the community. Assuming I do everything the right way!
So now for a nice relaxing weekend...
Well, I've made it! One month in (after my little holiday beforehand) and going strong! I'm really enjoying my new life here. Obviously there are so many differences to my life in Tassie, and it's so exciting to think of how much I will learn.
I've been really busy with my Uni course. There is so much more work than I was expecting. But I'm doing ALL of the reading, and ALL of the tasks assigned, so I guess I'm probably doing a lot more than some of the other students. But maybe it's because the course is only for one year. I've got subjects on child development (cognitive, physical, social and emotional), incorporating literacy and assessment and reporting. I'm actually finding it fascinating - maybe I've found my calling in life. I'll be chatting to the Principal from the local school next week to hopefully organise the practical component of my course (30 days this semester, and 50 next semester) and to do some work up there as well.
We've got some interesting things going on in Ramo at the moment. The Homelands Resource Centre, which was in charge of all of the outstations, has gone bust. Which means the Council (where Ben works) has had to take on a lot more. Also, the road that goes to the barge - where basically everything is sent into the community - is in really bad shape. The roads apparently weren't fully fixed last dry season, and this has been the wettest wet season on record. So the roads are covered in water, and cars and trucks are continually being bogged. The major problem is that the ALPA (Arnhem Land Progress Association) store uses that road to get all of the groceries in for the community. It's also the way our Coles Online orders come in. So if we don't get the road fixed soon, we'll have NO food in the community. Could be interesting. It's just lucky that I always go overboard shopping, so we've got enough food to probably live for two years. Although I'm not sure what I'm going to make with flour, golden syrup and tinned beetroot...
I have also just signed the papers to become a Special Area Supervisor for the national census that will be happening in August. It basically means I have to map out all of the houses in Ramingining and the outstations (some of which are probably 100km away), and employ the collector/interviewers. It means I'll have a lot of opportunity to talk to the locals, working out who lives where and who owns what land. Then we'll have to assign the collector/interviewers to appropriate houses. Because there are poison cousins, and people are from different families, only some people will be allowed in certain houses. And because literacy is low here, each household needs to be interviewed. In most of Australia, the forms are dropped off, and someone picks them up. Here, you can have up to 30 people living in a house, and it can take up to 8 hours to do the interview so that all of the questions are answered properly. So it'll be a huge challenge, but a fantastic way to integrate into the community. Assuming I do everything the right way!
So now for a nice relaxing weekend...
Sunday, March 6, 2011
day thirty one - goin' shootin'
6th March 2011 - 5:00pm
Most of you will probably know (if not personally, then from reading previous blog posts), that I DO NOT do extreme sports. But according to Ben, this year I'll be pushing my boundaries, and doing things I never would've seen myself doing before. So yesterday we went shootin'.
Ben bought a 0.22 rifle (or something like that, to me it's a big gun) when he was working in Gapuwiyak, but hadn't used it since arriving in Ramingining last July because he wasn't sure where it was safe to set up a target. After chatting to his work mate Tony in the morning, he had worked out that there was a quarry out near the airport that was a fantastic spot for setting up targets. So off we went.
I thought I was going to be watching Ben do the shooting, and trying not to jump a mile in the air when he took a shot. That was the case for about 30 rounds, but then it was my turn. I would never have seen myself shooting before I got up here, but I guess I am meant to be throwing myself into the way of life up here - and people often head out shooting here.
I have to admit, I actually had fun! And I wasn't too bad! Not quite as good as Ben was, but it was my first go. We had a bit of fun with Ben aiming for a water bottle and making it explode, so next time we're going to take up some shaken cans of pepsi max (they're on special here at the moment because they're nearly out of date, otherwise we couldn't afford it).
Two weeks in to my new life at Ramo, and I'm almost a new person!
Most of you will probably know (if not personally, then from reading previous blog posts), that I DO NOT do extreme sports. But according to Ben, this year I'll be pushing my boundaries, and doing things I never would've seen myself doing before. So yesterday we went shootin'.
Ben bought a 0.22 rifle (or something like that, to me it's a big gun) when he was working in Gapuwiyak, but hadn't used it since arriving in Ramingining last July because he wasn't sure where it was safe to set up a target. After chatting to his work mate Tony in the morning, he had worked out that there was a quarry out near the airport that was a fantastic spot for setting up targets. So off we went.
I thought I was going to be watching Ben do the shooting, and trying not to jump a mile in the air when he took a shot. That was the case for about 30 rounds, but then it was my turn. I would never have seen myself shooting before I got up here, but I guess I am meant to be throwing myself into the way of life up here - and people often head out shooting here.
I have to admit, I actually had fun! And I wasn't too bad! Not quite as good as Ben was, but it was my first go. We had a bit of fun with Ben aiming for a water bottle and making it explode, so next time we're going to take up some shaken cans of pepsi max (they're on special here at the moment because they're nearly out of date, otherwise we couldn't afford it).
This is what the 'highway' looks like.
Ok, so he's a pretty good shot...
Some of the smaller ant hills which are everywhere.
Not quite as good as Ben, but gave it a crack! The ones on the outside lines were meant to be there.
Good shot, Ben!
Time to head home - didn't want to get caught in the thunderstorm.
Two weeks in to my new life at Ramo, and I'm almost a new person!
day thirty one - a uni student again
6th March 2011 - 4:00pm
Well, what a week.
On Monday, I became a Uni student once again. You would've thought I had done enough study already, but apparently not. I decided to undertake the Graduate Diploma of Teaching and Learning through Charles Darwin University while I'm living in Ramingining. Monday was my first day, and I have spent the week alternating between whelmed and overwhelmed. After chatting to some friends who have undertaken various education degrees through various Universities, I was expecting that my 10 contact hours a week of classes and tutorials would be almost it. Boy was I wrong.
The online course is run fantastically. I've been so impressed with how easy it is to access unit information, lectures, assignment information and notes through their online program Learnline. But talk about lots of work! I was studying full time last week. Yes, I mean around 40 hours in the week. Way more than I was expecting! But given with the assignments, that I was trying to address all assessment criteria in the 500 words allocated, perhaps I was trying a bit hard. Maybe I am going to be a really good mature-aged student. I spent hours finding journal articles and reports that supported my argument, and hours more cutting back my 827 words to fit into the word limit. Maybe doing a PhD has made me think a bit differently about study compared to how I felt in my undergraduate courses.
I've also spent the week being totally overwhelmed about the component of my course. There is so much to organise over the next few weeks, I don't know how I'm going to get it done! I'll have five weeks of three days per week of prac, as well as three weeks full time. I guess everyone is in the same boat, and hopefully I'll be able to line Geoff at Ramingining School up to be my mentor teacher, and get lots of support from him. I suppose I will need to be thrown in the deep end to some extent, given that I'll be a fully qualified teacher at the end of this year (assuming I pass!).
Well, I'd better head off to read chapter one and two in Berk's Child Development...
Well, what a week.
On Monday, I became a Uni student once again. You would've thought I had done enough study already, but apparently not. I decided to undertake the Graduate Diploma of Teaching and Learning through Charles Darwin University while I'm living in Ramingining. Monday was my first day, and I have spent the week alternating between whelmed and overwhelmed. After chatting to some friends who have undertaken various education degrees through various Universities, I was expecting that my 10 contact hours a week of classes and tutorials would be almost it. Boy was I wrong.
The online course is run fantastically. I've been so impressed with how easy it is to access unit information, lectures, assignment information and notes through their online program Learnline. But talk about lots of work! I was studying full time last week. Yes, I mean around 40 hours in the week. Way more than I was expecting! But given with the assignments, that I was trying to address all assessment criteria in the 500 words allocated, perhaps I was trying a bit hard. Maybe I am going to be a really good mature-aged student. I spent hours finding journal articles and reports that supported my argument, and hours more cutting back my 827 words to fit into the word limit. Maybe doing a PhD has made me think a bit differently about study compared to how I felt in my undergraduate courses.
I've also spent the week being totally overwhelmed about the component of my course. There is so much to organise over the next few weeks, I don't know how I'm going to get it done! I'll have five weeks of three days per week of prac, as well as three weeks full time. I guess everyone is in the same boat, and hopefully I'll be able to line Geoff at Ramingining School up to be my mentor teacher, and get lots of support from him. I suppose I will need to be thrown in the deep end to some extent, given that I'll be a fully qualified teacher at the end of this year (assuming I pass!).
Well, I'd better head off to read chapter one and two in Berk's Child Development...
Sunday, February 27, 2011
day twenty four - the local kids
27th February 2011 - 1:15pm
I'm finding the local kids fascinating, although I haven't seen that much of them yet. Ben told me last week that a few kids had come up to the front door to ask if they could pick some flowers from our garden to give to their families, and he had said it would be fine. So when I was hanging the washing out and saw three kids looking at the trees in our backyard from the bush behind our house, with some orange things in their hands that looked like flowers, I assumed they were looking for more. So I went up to them and asked if they wanted some. Whoops. When I looked closer, the kids had slingshots. They said, 'nah, we shootin' birds'. Then the smallest of the three boys proceeded to show me the blue, black and white bird that they'd managed to shoot out of a tree. I asked if they were going to eat it. One said yes, and one said no. That means no, but they thought the answer I wanted to hear was yes.
I've realised being here, that there are going to be things that I am shocked by. But the way of life for the people here is different, and although it's not what I'd do, it's the way these kids have been brought up - hunting and gathering I guess - so I have to respect that, and learn from it.
And the kids here are so excited to see a new face around here. Those three were riding their bikes the next day, and asked me what my name was. Most of the younger ones (they were about 8 I'd say) wave and say hi.
I guess I'll get to know a bit more about them when I'm in the school.
I'm finding the local kids fascinating, although I haven't seen that much of them yet. Ben told me last week that a few kids had come up to the front door to ask if they could pick some flowers from our garden to give to their families, and he had said it would be fine. So when I was hanging the washing out and saw three kids looking at the trees in our backyard from the bush behind our house, with some orange things in their hands that looked like flowers, I assumed they were looking for more. So I went up to them and asked if they wanted some. Whoops. When I looked closer, the kids had slingshots. They said, 'nah, we shootin' birds'. Then the smallest of the three boys proceeded to show me the blue, black and white bird that they'd managed to shoot out of a tree. I asked if they were going to eat it. One said yes, and one said no. That means no, but they thought the answer I wanted to hear was yes.
I've realised being here, that there are going to be things that I am shocked by. But the way of life for the people here is different, and although it's not what I'd do, it's the way these kids have been brought up - hunting and gathering I guess - so I have to respect that, and learn from it.
And the kids here are so excited to see a new face around here. Those three were riding their bikes the next day, and asked me what my name was. Most of the younger ones (they were about 8 I'd say) wave and say hi.
I guess I'll get to know a bit more about them when I'm in the school.
day twenty four - the Alpa store
27th February 2011 - 12:45pm
Well, so far, things all seem to be going to plan! I decided to sit down and write this while Ben's watching fighting on Austar. It cost $35. So I'd better not interrupt him...
I am getting used to the very relaxed lifestyle - something I am generally not very good at dealing with. I'm the kind of person that finds it hard to relax and do nothing. So instead of doing nothing, I've been doing exercise and housework, cooking, have started doing some cross-stitch of baby things for some friends who are having babies in the next 6 months and watching movies. The exercise, housework and healthy cooking are paying off - I've lost 3kg in my first week here. Actually, that's probably saying more about my lifestyle before I arrived...
There is only one shop in the community, the Alpa store, about the size of the City Supermarket that is (or was) up Liverpool Street in Hobart. So pretty small. It's something I'm really not used to, after having the variety we have at home, and knowing all of the products in the sixteen aisles at Coles from my eleven years of working there. There are fresh fruit and vegies, but only once a week. So everyone rushes to buy them the day the barge arrives. They're a bit hit and miss too. Last week I had the most amazing apricots I've ever had from a supermarket - just like the ones from Mum's tree. This week they were HUGE, but not very nice at all. The lettuce is ok for a couple of days, then it starts turning brown, and within a few days, it's gone. The tomatoes are fantastic, as are the apples. Although the apples are $10.65 for six. Unless you eat the granny smith ones (I always thought they were for cooking) that Ben eats. There are only three types of milk - all the same brand, but full fat, low fat and skinny. There's yoghurt, but not like my usual choice of Yoplait or Nestle. It's Vaalia and that's it. No such thing as sour cream, greek yoghurt, smoked salmon and dips that I'd normally buy. But there is brie and camembert! Although it'll be a treat for the exhorbitant price.
Next is the freezer. Tonnes of frozen meat. The only meat that comes in fresh is ham and bacon. And when you use that, it seems as though it's been frozen and thawed anyway. As much roo as you want. My usual 'fish in a box' is now $11 a box (I never used to buy it unless it was $5 on special) and Ben's favourite chicken kievs are $14 for two. Three types of frozen vegies and one type of frozen chips. Bread comes in fresh, but by the time it arrives it's already about four days old, so we buy the Helga's frozen bread.
Then we move onto the shelves. It's a bit like the old style Coles around 10 years ago, when it was groceries but also specialised in other things. There are clothes, toys and kitchenware. And not a lot of food. We've managed to eat really well though, probably a lot more healthy food than I would've eaten at home. But without the variety. One variety of canned tomatoes, and you're lucky if there are any left. A few random sauces - worcestershire, out of date salad dressing, balsamic vinegar and that's about it. Baked beans but no spaghetti in tins. The whole selection of Natural Confectionary Company lollies. A few chocolate bars, but not my favourite turkish delight, so I haven't had any chocolate since I've been here. Ben said they come in occasionally. No topping - we've been having milo on our icecream. A few random toiletries. Only long grain rice, and spaghetti is the only type of pasta I've seen. Flour in 10kg buckets. The selection on the shelves seems completely random to me, but it's obviously what sells here.
The other thing that I find really interesting is the prices. Some things are cheaper than at home. The apricots and cherry tomatoes are really cheap. But the apples are really expensive. Most of the things on the shelves are really expensive, but I guess you have to think of the freight to get them here. We'll be paying at least $40 for a load of groceries on the barge when we get an account set up with Perkins (the barge company) and start ordering groceries online. Ben said that some things are subsidised (I assume by the government) because they are healthy, to encourage people to eat more healthy food. The softdrink is really expensive, and the shop is full of signs saying 'softdrink is a treat, drink water' and things like that. I'm not sure how well it works, but I've seen heaps of kids drinking juice.
So, it's a very different world here, but exciting all the same.
Well, so far, things all seem to be going to plan! I decided to sit down and write this while Ben's watching fighting on Austar. It cost $35. So I'd better not interrupt him...
I am getting used to the very relaxed lifestyle - something I am generally not very good at dealing with. I'm the kind of person that finds it hard to relax and do nothing. So instead of doing nothing, I've been doing exercise and housework, cooking, have started doing some cross-stitch of baby things for some friends who are having babies in the next 6 months and watching movies. The exercise, housework and healthy cooking are paying off - I've lost 3kg in my first week here. Actually, that's probably saying more about my lifestyle before I arrived...
There is only one shop in the community, the Alpa store, about the size of the City Supermarket that is (or was) up Liverpool Street in Hobart. So pretty small. It's something I'm really not used to, after having the variety we have at home, and knowing all of the products in the sixteen aisles at Coles from my eleven years of working there. There are fresh fruit and vegies, but only once a week. So everyone rushes to buy them the day the barge arrives. They're a bit hit and miss too. Last week I had the most amazing apricots I've ever had from a supermarket - just like the ones from Mum's tree. This week they were HUGE, but not very nice at all. The lettuce is ok for a couple of days, then it starts turning brown, and within a few days, it's gone. The tomatoes are fantastic, as are the apples. Although the apples are $10.65 for six. Unless you eat the granny smith ones (I always thought they were for cooking) that Ben eats. There are only three types of milk - all the same brand, but full fat, low fat and skinny. There's yoghurt, but not like my usual choice of Yoplait or Nestle. It's Vaalia and that's it. No such thing as sour cream, greek yoghurt, smoked salmon and dips that I'd normally buy. But there is brie and camembert! Although it'll be a treat for the exhorbitant price.
Next is the freezer. Tonnes of frozen meat. The only meat that comes in fresh is ham and bacon. And when you use that, it seems as though it's been frozen and thawed anyway. As much roo as you want. My usual 'fish in a box' is now $11 a box (I never used to buy it unless it was $5 on special) and Ben's favourite chicken kievs are $14 for two. Three types of frozen vegies and one type of frozen chips. Bread comes in fresh, but by the time it arrives it's already about four days old, so we buy the Helga's frozen bread.
Then we move onto the shelves. It's a bit like the old style Coles around 10 years ago, when it was groceries but also specialised in other things. There are clothes, toys and kitchenware. And not a lot of food. We've managed to eat really well though, probably a lot more healthy food than I would've eaten at home. But without the variety. One variety of canned tomatoes, and you're lucky if there are any left. A few random sauces - worcestershire, out of date salad dressing, balsamic vinegar and that's about it. Baked beans but no spaghetti in tins. The whole selection of Natural Confectionary Company lollies. A few chocolate bars, but not my favourite turkish delight, so I haven't had any chocolate since I've been here. Ben said they come in occasionally. No topping - we've been having milo on our icecream. A few random toiletries. Only long grain rice, and spaghetti is the only type of pasta I've seen. Flour in 10kg buckets. The selection on the shelves seems completely random to me, but it's obviously what sells here.
The other thing that I find really interesting is the prices. Some things are cheaper than at home. The apricots and cherry tomatoes are really cheap. But the apples are really expensive. Most of the things on the shelves are really expensive, but I guess you have to think of the freight to get them here. We'll be paying at least $40 for a load of groceries on the barge when we get an account set up with Perkins (the barge company) and start ordering groceries online. Ben said that some things are subsidised (I assume by the government) because they are healthy, to encourage people to eat more healthy food. The softdrink is really expensive, and the shop is full of signs saying 'softdrink is a treat, drink water' and things like that. I'm not sure how well it works, but I've seen heaps of kids drinking juice.
So, it's a very different world here, but exciting all the same.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
day seventeen - arrival in Ramo
20th February 2011 - 9:00pm
Next challenge - survival through a cyclone.
After the weekend, we just spent a couple more days lazing around in Darwin. We spent most of the time in our hotel, with the strongest winds and heaviest rain I've ever experienced on Monday night and all day Tuesday. Whereas in Tassie, we get four seasons in one day, in Darwin, it was constant rain. And I mean constant. It didn't stop. All day. And often on Monday night on the TV, the broadcasting was interrupted by a message saying that the weather was too bad so there was no reception. When Ben checked the satellite to see what the weather was like in Ramingining, it became apparent that there was a cyclone heading straight for Darwin - meanwhile the weather in Ramo was perfect. So we turned on the TV to be inundated with cyclone warnings. Every 15 minutes at least, a warning would come up on the screen giving an update of whether it was a 'cyclone watch' or 'cyclone warning'. We decided to head to the supermarket across the road to get some essential supplies - the TV warnings suggested getting our 'cyclone packs' ready. What we saw at the shop was absolutely incredible. NO water on the shelves. NO bread. NO milk. NOTHING left in the deli. It was incredible. People were stocking up on all of the essentials in case the power was cut off or they were caught in their houses for a few days. I've never seen anything like it. Meanwhile, Ben and I picked up the essentials for our last few days in Darwin - soft drink, chocolate to take back to Ramo for his workmates, wine and scotch. We did get a few funny looks.
It was surprising, though, that when the cyclone finally arrived, it was nothing like the two nights before. There was plenty of rain and a little bit of wind, but nothing like I was expecting. Thank goodness. Although we did have an interesting move of rooms. After Darwin airport was closed, our flight to Ramo on Wednesday morning was cancelled. Which meant an extra two nights in Darwin, and a room change. Although it was only about 30 metres to our new room (which thankfully was inside without a roof to hear the rain pounding down on), we got saturated. And I mean saturated! We were completely soaked to our underwear, as were our bags. Not fun! And to make matters worse, after our two trips back to the room to get all of our bags, we had to walk up the four floors because the lifts were out in case there was a power failure. That was our exercise for the week! But we finally made it, and celebrated our achievement with a quiet drink.
After those slight dramas, we made it to our flight, complete with chocolate and day old McDonald's for Ben's workmates, at Fly Tiwi for our flight to Ramo. We were half and hour late leaving because of the weather, but we got a bigger plane which made me happy - not so many bumps. Well, so I thought. Having never been on a small plane before (except for a sea plane years ago, which flies much lower and doesn't have any issues with turbulence because of the clouds), I was a little uptight to say the least. At least Nicki, one of Ben's workmates, was on the flight too, and she was a bit worried. Ben was fantastic. Laughing at me the whole time, and making loud scary noises to scare me. Excellent. This was almost as extreme sport as para sailing. But I'm pleased to say I made it to the end, alive and in one piece. There were a few hairy parts, with some pretty big bumps. And the landing was quite smooth except that they fly in so much faster than I expected!
I was greeted at the airport by about 10 four-wheel drives. Obviously not all for me, or for the four of us passengers. But it was mail day, so everyone was there to pick up all of their important mail. But it meant I got to meet Barry who is the cleaner around Ramo, and who is also Bev's (Ben's Administration Manager) husband, Chris from BulaBula Arts Centre and Jay from the school. And a few other people who's names I already can't remember! We drove in along the dirt road, full of pot holes because of the strong recent rain. There are ditches along the side of the roads that lead into little river-like things that take the water into the bush. But they weren't working quite as planned, so we had quite a few bumps, and driving through metre-deep water on the roads. We went the scenic way, meeting Bev, Rose (who's family are the traditional owners of the land in Ramingining) and Richard from Ben's work, Roy from the Alpa Store (the local supermarket) and seeing the sights. Which are rather limited. The Alpa Store, the Council offices, the bank and Centrelink (which were pretty busy), the Health Centre and the School. We also went to the Visitor's Quarters where Ben has been living for a while - they're fantastic for people visiting, with individual rooms off a shared lounge/dining/kitchen. And the new Visitor's Quarters are even nicer. Then we made it home!
It's a fantastic home! Three bedrooms - one is full of storage things, a study for me to do my degree and our bedroom. A huge kitchen. A great bathroom and laundry. And a MASSIVE recliner chair and lounge. Leather of course. And a 42 inch TV. Ok, so obviously it's not an overly 'happening' place, so there will be a lot of TV watched. We also have Austar, and my Wiivegie patch in no time. Assuming I can manage to get things to grow without being killed in a downpour.
We haven't really achieved much since I've arrived, except unpacking. We've been to the Alpa Store a few times, and I met Bobby (who is a very famous singer and artist from the area), Ronnie (a Councillor) and his wife Mia and Sylvia, both who work at the school. I'll head into the School in the next few days, so I'll have another update soon. But for now, time to upload the photos I'll put on here to go with my story!
Next challenge - survival through a cyclone.
After the weekend, we just spent a couple more days lazing around in Darwin. We spent most of the time in our hotel, with the strongest winds and heaviest rain I've ever experienced on Monday night and all day Tuesday. Whereas in Tassie, we get four seasons in one day, in Darwin, it was constant rain. And I mean constant. It didn't stop. All day. And often on Monday night on the TV, the broadcasting was interrupted by a message saying that the weather was too bad so there was no reception. When Ben checked the satellite to see what the weather was like in Ramingining, it became apparent that there was a cyclone heading straight for Darwin - meanwhile the weather in Ramo was perfect. So we turned on the TV to be inundated with cyclone warnings. Every 15 minutes at least, a warning would come up on the screen giving an update of whether it was a 'cyclone watch' or 'cyclone warning'. We decided to head to the supermarket across the road to get some essential supplies - the TV warnings suggested getting our 'cyclone packs' ready. What we saw at the shop was absolutely incredible. NO water on the shelves. NO bread. NO milk. NOTHING left in the deli. It was incredible. People were stocking up on all of the essentials in case the power was cut off or they were caught in their houses for a few days. I've never seen anything like it. Meanwhile, Ben and I picked up the essentials for our last few days in Darwin - soft drink, chocolate to take back to Ramo for his workmates, wine and scotch. We did get a few funny looks.
It was surprising, though, that when the cyclone finally arrived, it was nothing like the two nights before. There was plenty of rain and a little bit of wind, but nothing like I was expecting. Thank goodness. Although we did have an interesting move of rooms. After Darwin airport was closed, our flight to Ramo on Wednesday morning was cancelled. Which meant an extra two nights in Darwin, and a room change. Although it was only about 30 metres to our new room (which thankfully was inside without a roof to hear the rain pounding down on), we got saturated. And I mean saturated! We were completely soaked to our underwear, as were our bags. Not fun! And to make matters worse, after our two trips back to the room to get all of our bags, we had to walk up the four floors because the lifts were out in case there was a power failure. That was our exercise for the week! But we finally made it, and celebrated our achievement with a quiet drink.
After those slight dramas, we made it to our flight, complete with chocolate and day old McDonald's for Ben's workmates, at Fly Tiwi for our flight to Ramo. We were half and hour late leaving because of the weather, but we got a bigger plane which made me happy - not so many bumps. Well, so I thought. Having never been on a small plane before (except for a sea plane years ago, which flies much lower and doesn't have any issues with turbulence because of the clouds), I was a little uptight to say the least. At least Nicki, one of Ben's workmates, was on the flight too, and she was a bit worried. Ben was fantastic. Laughing at me the whole time, and making loud scary noises to scare me. Excellent. This was almost as extreme sport as para sailing. But I'm pleased to say I made it to the end, alive and in one piece. There were a few hairy parts, with some pretty big bumps. And the landing was quite smooth except that they fly in so much faster than I expected!
My welcoming committee
I was greeted at the airport by about 10 four-wheel drives. Obviously not all for me, or for the four of us passengers. But it was mail day, so everyone was there to pick up all of their important mail. But it meant I got to meet Barry who is the cleaner around Ramo, and who is also Bev's (Ben's Administration Manager) husband, Chris from BulaBula Arts Centre and Jay from the school. And a few other people who's names I already can't remember! We drove in along the dirt road, full of pot holes because of the strong recent rain. There are ditches along the side of the roads that lead into little river-like things that take the water into the bush. But they weren't working quite as planned, so we had quite a few bumps, and driving through metre-deep water on the roads. We went the scenic way, meeting Bev, Rose (who's family are the traditional owners of the land in Ramingining) and Richard from Ben's work, Roy from the Alpa Store (the local supermarket) and seeing the sights. Which are rather limited. The Alpa Store, the Council offices, the bank and Centrelink (which were pretty busy), the Health Centre and the School. We also went to the Visitor's Quarters where Ben has been living for a while - they're fantastic for people visiting, with individual rooms off a shared lounge/dining/kitchen. And the new Visitor's Quarters are even nicer. Then we made it home!
It's a fantastic home! Three bedrooms - one is full of storage things, a study for me to do my degree and our bedroom. A huge kitchen. A great bathroom and laundry. And a MASSIVE recliner chair and lounge. Leather of course. And a 42 inch TV. Ok, so obviously it's not an overly 'happening' place, so there will be a lot of TV watched. We also have Austar, and my Wiivegie patch in no time. Assuming I can manage to get things to grow without being killed in a downpour.
The balcony with Buddy at the end. Covered in a towel because he was being naughty.
The beautiful bush backing onto our house.
The obviously very comfortable recliner.
The not quite yet organised study.
The view of the back balcony from the treadmill.
We haven't really achieved much since I've arrived, except unpacking. We've been to the Alpa Store a few times, and I met Bobby (who is a very famous singer and artist from the area), Ronnie (a Councillor) and his wife Mia and Sylvia, both who work at the school. I'll head into the School in the next few days, so I'll have another update soon. But for now, time to upload the photos I'll put on here to go with my story!
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