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….