Reflections from The Top of the Page

Sunday Oct. 7^th

Leaving my laptop charger cord in Darwin has delayed my blog writing this last week, however, it has also provided me with some time for reflection.

I have now settled back into Melbourne life (sort of) and am about to return to my school and to the little children of my class whom I have missed while I was in the Northern Territory of Australia. Now I can see that we are living in a totally contrasting world to our indigenous neighbors at the top of the page.

Before heading north I had explained to my class of five year olds where I was going

and why. We looked at a big, full-page map of Australia and could see that there was certainly a vast distance between Melbourne and Robinson River. Then from the mouths of babes I was asked, “ will the children at the top of the page have paper?”

I have since been asked about life ‘at the top of the page’, received emails signed, ‘from the bottom of the page’ and smiled when sending greetings to Melbourne from ‘the top of the page’. 

Spending time at the ‘top of the page’ has opened my eyes, taught me facts, shown me another life, increased my knowledge, introduced me to fascinating people, brought me new friends, provided me with wondrous experiences, improved my health, and most of all, it has enriched my soul.

It was not a long time, but it was enough to embrace and file away all the wonderful and enchanting moments. 

I will remain in contact with Robinson River and I hope to return there whenever the possibility presents itself. I will share my experiences with my class, so that they have a better understanding of how others live and an awareness of social justice;

And I will continue to reflect on the beauty of the land and the strength of its people.  

 

Saying Good Bye

Monday 24^th September

It was the day before our departure and we were making a half hearted effort to pack and clean our little house. One of our neighbours had asked if they could give us a ‘feed’ the night before we were to leave and we agreed that it would be a lovely way to finish our time living within the community.

We wanted to see one more sunset and so decided we would climb Lubba Lubba, the rocky hill overlooking Robinson River, one last time. A number of the staff wanted to join us, so after school we rushed home, packed, cleaned and made a big salad with leftovers. Then it was off to Lubba Lubba as the sun began to glow red in the sky. We trekked down through the cow paddock, crossed the creek, and after climbing to the top we sat together with our new teaching friends, looking out over the plains as far as the horizon. The wonderful Robinson River could be seen twisting its way through the community and off into the distance. The chicken coops, goat paddocks, school and community houses were laid out below us like a 3D map. The spectacular view is of an ancient land, rugged, undeveloped and like it’s people, able to tell stories 1000 years old. I mentioned to my indigenous friend sitting by my side that he must feel very proud to belong to such a magnificent environment, but I am not sure that he sees it through my eyes.

For the last time we climbed carefully down the massive rocks needing torches now to find our footing and scan for snakes; and returned home to share a meal with our neighbours.

We had not been sure what they had in mind so kept smiling as one “Robinson River moment” after another took place. First came a huge piece of bullock beef, which David was asked to cut into steaks. Then came the children, chattering excitedly and calling out to each other. Anne from next door lit a fire outside our door insisting we must have our own fire to sit around. Gerald, one of the single adults, lit our BBQ and started cooking the meat. Salads and cakes appeared from nowhere as the numbers grew. Anne brought in some salad ingredients and started to put them together in my tiny kitchen. As I helped her we chatted. It felt so normal to be working together; two women making a salad. She scraped some peelings into my bin and at the same moment spied my old sandals. “What these in here for?” she asked as she whipped them out and put them on her feet. As far as I was concerned they were beyond even passing on, but Anne wore them proudly, and again at school the next day.

  

Finally the food was ready and the noise level dropped as the children sat with their plates filled and were joined by the adults. David and I sat side by side on the dirt outside our house by our very own fire.  I did a rough head count, there was well over twenty sharing our last evening meal, all from the Robinson River community, all our new friends and David and I the only ‘whites.’ I felt privileged.

Little by little children were taken home to bed leaving only a few of us sitting by our fire. We talked and laughed until it was almost midnight and the fire was just glowing embers, then with hugs and smiles, we retired for the night.

The next day was busy and filled with emotion. Could our time really have ended so quickly? I would have happily stayed another term or more.  We both taught as usual and were continually being hugged and told to come back. At the end of the day we were presented with books and cards made by the children, gifts we will treasure.   

The staff gave us a lovely afternoon tea and thanked us for our help. We packed the car and made one more drive through the community waving as people called their good byes.  

It had been an overwhelming and humbling ending to our adventure at Robinson River. I felt tired and emotional. Sad about leaving and happy that it had been such an enriching experience.   

Still more to come….

Natural Beauty

Sunday 23^rd September

We rose early and walked to the chooks’ pens. Not too hard to find in the dark with the four big roosters loudly crowing the whole community awake. We fed them our collected food scraps and then made our way to higher ground where we sat and watched the sunrise. Such beauty as the dawn light silhouetted the graceful gums. For me it’s the best time of the day. 

After an early breakfast we were collected by one of the teachers and headed to the river, with a ‘tinnie’ following behind on the towbar. We effortlessly slipped the small aluminum boat into the river at the local lagoon. This lagoon or water hole as the locals call it, is the size of a small lake and extends for 1.5 kms. Early morning and the water was like a mirror.  Not a ripple on the glassy surface and a beautiful reflection of the rich growth lining the banks.  We slowly made our way upstream. In the clear deep water there were plenty of fish to be seen. David threw a line over the side and let it trail behind the boat.

What a perfect way to spend a Sunday morning, our last in this magical land. The sun was warm, the sky (as always) blue, blue, blue and the air filled with the sound of cicadas, birds, a wild pheasant in the undergrowth and a pandanus tree filled with a colony of squabbling fruit bats.

Suddenly David’s line whipped and he hauled in a good sized Barra. Barramundi are plentiful in Robinson River and taste delicious. Back in Melbourne they ‘cost the earth’ and lack the flavour. He was very happy!

As we ventured on in the tinnie, the lagoon narrowed back into a river, which was still deep but even more picturesque.  The tropical atmosphere is hard to describe. I would have imagined flies, uncomfortable humidity, snakes and crocs at every bend, but no, this was paradise.  Only delicate dragonflies were present. Not a fly or mosquito to be seen. Huge old paper bark trees provided shade over the river and many different green hues were reflected in the water.  I was experiencing a wonderful morning bathed in natural beauty.

As we headed back to the bank, calls from children swimming welcomed us, and some of them gathered around to see our catch. They too were carrying Barras, just freshly caught, and were on their way to a fire that we noticed burning on the bank. Lunch was about to be cooked. 

Sounds of Silence

Saturday 22^nd Sept.

Last night a few of us drove a little way out of the community in a gator. We sped through the bush as the sun was setting. With no windows on the vehicle, the warm breeze in our faces was refreshing, following the hot afternoon. We left the road and headed up a hill and across a rocky outcrop, until we reached the summit.  The minute the noisy engine ceased the silence engulfed us.

We gathered wood in the darkness, lit a fire, and spread out our blankets. There we sat under a clear starry, starry sky with an iridescent half moon hanging effortlessly between the stars.

Together we chatted, meditated, dreamed and soaked up the sounds of silence.

Next morning, Saturday, was busy and as I walked up the main street I was greeted with calls from children. Some of the ‘cool’ year six boys were hanging out together, but unlike other shopping centres where you might see ‘cool’ kids hanging out, these boys were each pushing a baby around with them in a ‘pusher’. One of the boys, white glove on one hand (channeling Michael Jackson) and baby Lawrence in the pusher, came up to me. “Where you going Miss?” I told him “to school.” “Why Miss?” “Because I need to email.” “Who you sending emails to Miss?” and so the interrogation went on.

As I walked on I noticed a woman donning a welding helmet to start work on a big metal gate with her welding torch. One of the industries at Robinson River is welding. There are two groups working in separate sheds, the women and the men. They construct all the fencing and much of the other structures seen around the community, which would otherwise be out-sourced to a ‘white man’ construction company. Word is that the women are the better welders, and by the steadfast manner in which this woman was tackling the job, I would not disagree.

 I noticed squeals of delight coming from a small plastic wading pool on the side of the road. Four of the little girls were splashing around as the hose filled the pool. “Look at us Miss, we be swimming.” Their dark wet skin glistened in the sun and their teeth shone white as they grinned their happy grins.

However, this Saturday morning was not all happiness. A big truck was unloading supplies for the shop. Parked in the main street it was a danger as little ones ran about. Our friend and neighbor was heading towards the shop with her three faithful, four legged companions following. We had become very fond of Jessie and Brown Boy but it was Marjorie the oldest of the dogs that we particularly liked. Maybe it was the unusual name for a dog, or the way she waited at our door to greet us; or even the cute way her tongue always stuck out through her lips, that drew us to her. She had become an intrinsic part of our life here at Robinson River.  Without looking, she walked straight under the huge truck wheels as it pulled away, and was run over. Little emotion was shown on the street, as unceremoniously Marjorie was dragged off the road by one leg. Later I heard that the family had buried her “near the light pole,” and that they did feel a great sadness that their pet of 10+ years had gone. Marjorie, I feel, is in a better place now. No more fleas, no more scavenging for food, no more kids climbing on her, and no more endless dog fights… it’s not a good life for a dog here at Robinson River.

Robinson River Moments

• ·      It was almost 9pm and we were standing outside admiring the spectacular night sky. Suddenly out of the darkness came one of the children riding like the wind on his unlit bike. In his hand and wrapped around his waist was a looped rope. As he skidded to a halt and gave us a quick hello, I asked what he was doing. “Roping dogs, Miss,” he said, racing off again like the ‘ringer’ that he may one day become. We both looked at each other and almost burst out laughing.

• ·      I sat chatting with my neighbor one afternoon and asked what she would be having for dinner that night, hoping for some inspiration for our meal. “We be having echidna; found a good big one near that house over there,” she replied pointing.

• ·      I have been fascinated by the way some of the women and children, have parts of their rich dark hair lightened. I asked one of the women, was it from the sun or a custom. She told me that they do put something in their hair to lighten it. What plant does it come from and is it part of the women’s ceremony? How do they make and use the potion? I was fascinated. She gave me a look I have been given on several occasions…. ‘crazy white woman’. They buy it from the shop in a packet she told me, it’s called hair dye. I should have known, I follow that same custom.

• ·      I rang the bank to find out what had happened to my bankcard, after I had been waiting for it for five weeks. They had sent it off and suggested it might be a hold up/glitch at the post office, so after school we dropped down to the local council office where the mail goes. There is no Post Office at Robinson River.  I asked if they had any missing letters. “Sure have a look through these” the girl said, then she left the counter for us to go behind. Letters, hundreds of them, were just tossed into assorted old boxes on the floor, on the desk, on the counter, …..everywhere. We worked our way through them collecting any names we knew and replacing them neatly in order…..(I couldn’t help myself.)  No security existed. We found peoples’ opened tax returns, bank statements and an assortment of private mail… but not my letter!  Two weeks later, after I had cancelled it, someone found it at the shop!!

They’re back!

Monday 17^th September

There was much excitement as David drove the children back into the community on Sunday, arriving just before sunset. Tooting and waving, they drove around the streets, to celebrate their return from their Melbourne trip, and to let the parents know that they were back. At the school, he dropped off the tired travellers and their luggage that had now doubled in volume.

Throughout the day I had been asked, “when is Mr. Dave gunna be back Miss?”

The children had been sorely missed and as with all guardians, there was the worry that they may not have been safe in that big city. I was waiting with my neighbours who had been missing their daughter, and I was delighted to see David return. As I gave him a welcome home hug and kiss, a sense of gratitude swept over me.  I watched the children greet their parents and guardians. There were smiles and certainly signs that they were pleased to see each other, but no hugs or kisses. That sign of affection is not part of their culture.  David took one girl to her house only to find that there was no one home. He returned with her to our neighbours where she was casually told that her mother had gone up to Darwin for medical tests and she could stay with them until her return.  She sat quietly with the others as they showed off their bootie from Melbourne, and my heart went out to her. Such resilience. Once again I saw a stoic little one put on a brave face and not complain.

The day before, I had been out walking with two little girls when one told me the reason why she had been away from school and that she’d had five needles in five days.  Antibiotics are mostly given via injection here as tablets are usually not taken as prescribed.

I asked how she coped with needles. Her answer; “I’m seven now, I don’t feel pain no more, I got no more tears now.”

Maybe in some cases it is just mind over matter. One of the school children had been complaining of a sore throat and was sent to the principal, who asked her; “What can I do?” “Give me a band-aid Mister.”  She returned to class with the band-aid stuck on her neck feeling much better.  The same girl asked me for a band-aid when she had a ‘sore bone’ after falling from a tree.

The Melbourne trip had been wonderful, exhausting, exhilarating and overwhelming. It will take a while for all the stories to come out.

David was amazed at how they sat in the back of the troupie, for the two-day drive home without complaining, happily amusing themselves between sleeps. At one point he could smell a strong mint odor throughout the 4WD. Upon looking in the rear vision mirror, he was amazed to see that all eight had painted their faces with toothpaste!

 It will also be a long time before we forget the Zoo story. When one of the ‘hunter gatherer children’ from Robinson River saw so many pigeons at the picnic area of the zoo, he raced off (stick in hand) to return soon after with a live bird, much to the amazement of bystanders. 

They were tired at school today, although pleased to be back in their small community and enjoying the hot sunshine. Their new clothes and gifts had been shared around and several students where happy to wear a new Katmandu polar fleece in the 31oC heat.

I am looking forward to hearing more about the trip that has given them a glimpse of another world

Life Goes on .....

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Tuesday    11^th Sept.           

Life changes when you are in a new location and it doesn’t take long to adjust to ‘the norm’. At school today a large black snake appeared in the children’s eating area. The children wanted to hit it with sticks but the wise snake made a hasty retreat under the building. The meals went on as usual while the snake seemed of no concern to anyone.  They are on the move as the weather warms.  A snake killed another of the community dogs this week, the third since we have been here. Snakes are part of life at Robinson River.

Over the last few days the surrounding hills have been ablaze with bushfires. Several men have been fighting them unsuccessfully and smoke was drifting over the community. In Melbourne any sign of a bushfire raises the alarm and anxious Victorians rush into fire drill mode with good reason, but not here were life goes on unchanged. It has crossed my mind several times; to where would I run? And what would I grab should this become a serious situation? But it appears this may be a common occurrence as no one seems to worry.

Our porch has become a gathering place for children on the weekends. A little group was happily drawing and chatting when a ute pulled up and several words in ‘language’ were called out. Immediately, three of the children jumped up and clambered onto the back of the ute, which appeared to be already full of adults, children, and a baby. They shouted and waved goodbye to me as they headed off on their fishing trip, a very happy family outing.

We were entering ‘the shop’ and said hello to a gentleman sitting beside the door. “Take my picture,” he requested, all smiles. And so I did. “Print it and put it up in the shop,” was his next request. And so I did. 

David left to drive to Darwin today and as it began to get dark, a knock at the door revealed two children with their aunt. The children asked "where is Mr Dabe?" They had noticed me coming home alone. We chatted for a while and I heard more about the life in this community. Aunty told me she is one of ten siblings and that her mother was a painter and the first aboriginal woman to exhibit her work in Paris!!  She recalled a childhood memory of all of the children desperately missing their mother, while the mother was actually in Europe having a wonderful time in the snow…. One can only imagine.