Hughes Kimberley Calling

Yep, it’s definitely a bull! One of the smaller scrub bulls outside the yard.

Today a new term began and I had 7 students arrive during the first hour. We began our new Accelerated Literacy novel which is called The Barrumbi Kids. The map of the fictitious community is very similar to the map of their community and the students were immediately engaged. They taught me the Gidja words for the animals that appeared on the cover. The book deals with 3 young boys: Tomias, an aboriginal whose family has been in the community since the Dreaming, Dale whose grandfather was the first white settler and loved the country in the same way his friend Tomias did, and finally Gordon a bully whose father is a government appointed manager and has little understanding and tolerance of indigenous ways.

Their response was really great and I felt that this was going to be a positive term. Even two of the students who gave me so much grief last term were positive. We can only hope.

Mike got out of bed to chase an enormous scrub bull out of our yard. He thought kids were bouncing a basketball but it was the bull stomping his feet.

Today one of our colleagues, Deb, was celebrating her 50^th birthday. Unlike NSW, Western Australia had a public holiday for Anzac day. We gathered at our principal’s home at 10.30 to celebrate the birthday. It was a really lovely social gathering and a great way to welcome back Neisha, a teacher who had taught here last year and was now replacing Lorraine our Year 3/4 teacher who left at the end of term 1. Neisha missed this community terribly and was very excited at being back. She had some of my difficult students in Year 6 last year and found them very challenging to manage also. We also got to see the beautiful Sister Mary again who was back from her holiday. Juliette was so excited and they had a great reunion.

After this socializing Mike headed off with Juliette and Leanne our deputy’s family to fish at Crocodile Hole. Mike had in his car two of the indigenous girls from the community, one in my class and one in Year 6. Jailyn sat in the front and navigated through the most arduous four wheel driving he had ever done. The drive to Crocodile Hole is 50 km north of Warmun via The Savannah Way. Once we left the tar it is approximately 30km round trip to the waterhole, which is a tributary to the famous Bow River. Mike was driving through grass taller than the car and found his navigational skills put to the test. Once they arrived at the river, high above the sand banks Juliette stumbled across the remnants of a “killer” (this is best described as a scrub bull which has no branding therefore no owner. This means it is free for all.The Aboriginal people kill the beast, dig a huge hole in the sand and bake it in the sand.) Juliette suddenly thought she was an archeologist and attempted to reconstruct the massive skeleton which she thought was a dinosaur. The skull was brought home as she thought it would be the best present ever for her mum who loves science.

The fishing was amazing and Rex Hunt would have proud of their efforts. Michael continually scanned the horizon for salties which could appear from nowhere. Juliette was eager to give the fishing a go as her uncles had taught her how to do it. With a small handline and the coaching of the Indigenous girls she caught and landed herself 2 massive black bream also known as a sooty grunter. Her father’s jaw hit the ground as never had he caught a fish this big. They left as the sun was setting and visited the very small community there and offered them a few fish for allowing them on their land.  The journey home was very dusty and hard to follow the route out. The CB finally proved to be a valuable asset as we could guide each other out.

At this time back in Warmun, Kevin who is Dave’s camp dog limped back to Mirrilingki. His eyes were bloodshot, he was covered in deep gouges from a fight with a kangaroo. He was unable to move, but worst of all, Comet who is Myfanwy’s little staffie went out with Kevin but did not return. He is much smaller then Kev and a kangaroo may have injured him fatally. These two dogs run so far, they have been spotted 15 km away on one occasion, and the country so hostile that his chances of survival if injured were slim at best. Many prayers were said tonight.

Well we had a fantastic time with family in Sydney over the Easter holidays and it was very hard to return knowing that now it is Christmas time when we will next see the family. Juliette in particular is finding it hard being back as she spent the Easter holidays cuddled up to Nanna and playing with her cousins with that unbridled joy that only close family and friends can give.

What was really amazing was that while in Sydney I was sitting with mum and dad watching the National Indigenous TV network (mum loves this channel) when our school appeared in a documentary. About half an hour of an arts documentary was devoted to two prominent artists of our community, Hector (not sure of his second name) and George Mung. They were taking their artwork to an exhibition in Canberra in 1991. Unfortunately George died before the event and his son Patrick (our Patrick that I have spoken of often in earlier blogs) took his father’s place. The documentary showed a much younger Patrick and other community members coming into the classroom to teach 2 way, this means teaching the Indigenous culture alongside the other subjects. Unfortunately most are too old and too tired to do this now and the next generation simply lacks the knowledge or the interest. I think this has been a huge loss for not only the school but also the students. Many no longer know any of the words from their traditional Gidga language.

I also went to the NSW Art Gallery to see the Archibald portrait exhibition. It was wonderful to enter the big long foyer and see a huge canvas from a Warmun artist hanging in a position of such prominence. There were also 3 canvasses by Rover thomas (from the Paul Kelly song). I look forward to telling Lally who is in Mike’s class that I saw his grandfathers work in such a significant location. Who knows, maybe the small canvas Lally presented to me may be valuable one day!

The ground is even drier and the scrub bulls had munched some of my garden while we were away. Our fence has got a few new twists and turns from where these enormous creatures lean against it. We now have to wire up all the gates as they just push them open otherwise. These bulls are brahmins and enormous. Not much smaller than our four wheel drive. Dave our neighbour was awoken last week as one was on his verandah next to his bedroom. The campers at the road house are a little nervous as when it is night time here it is black as pitch and they are fearful of them walking over their tents.  These bulls are all from the surrounding properties such as Mabel Downs. There are no fences and as the Dry season progresses they come looking for water and green shoots.  You know when they are near as you can hear the thud of them stamping their feet. I have been walking each morning and I always note carefully whether the coast is clear.

Today Dave at Mirrilingki put on a BBQ for 2 volunteers who ran the place last year, Vin and Judy. They are an older couple who now run the mission grounds at Columbaru which is right at the top of the Kimberley. This is only accessible most of the year by charter plane as the rainfall there is huge and it is hundreds of kms of dirt to reach it. It is interesting that they say Warmun is a highly functional community in comparison.  I can only imagine what it must be like there then! What was really great was all these people turned up for the BBQ, most of whom I have only met briefly. When Vin and Judy were in charge at Mirrilingki, they had a BBQ every Friday night for all the non-indigenous who worked with the community. This created a great bond between all. It is sad that Thomas and Anna, a young Polish couple who manage it now are much more reserved, there has only been 2 BBQ’s all year. As most people are here working as single people it is really nice to have a social and support network.

I attended my first AFL game yesterday. The Warmun Eagles played the Kununurra Demons. All the community and its dogs turned out for the event. It is interesting to note that a number of Indigenous are embarrassed to say hello to you in front of their own people. It seems they are given a hard time for associating with gardia (white folk).

I would like to thank all those people who leave comments on the blog. It is really interesting to see who is reading it. I spent hours last term writing and it just makes it seem a little more worthwhile now I know there really is an audience.

Today was a day of real highs and lows. We had been told by the Secondary Consultant that we should prepare our students for the National testing which was in May. All students across Australia in Years 3,5 7 and 9 were to be tested over four days. The exams were in Reading, Writing, Writing Conventions, Non- Calculator numeracy and Calculator numeracy. I had 5 girls at school today, three Year 7’s, a Year 9 student who for Maths and English does her own Distance Education work; and a girl in Year 10 whose behaviour is so challenging. She delights in telling me everything is too easy or boring, and gives the same response when I give her extension work. The three Year Seven girls and I were working through the Practice paper, with me having to explain everything to them. They could answer some of the question in the Writing Conventions test, once it was explained what the question was asking. Unfortunately this will not be allowed on the day.

The two older students up the back continued to be disruptive and their behaviour became increasingly challenging. When disciplined and asked to just be quiet so the other girls had a chance to learn I got the typical response, school shirt thrown on the desk and she stormed out the door like it was some great punishment to me. I cheered inside as there is only so much abuse one can take and keep trying to remain calm.

The Maths papers were an absolute nightmare and I gave up after the second problem. These kids only learned to count beyond 109 about 4 weeks ago. One of the questions gave the dimensions of tiles in centimetres, for a shower whose dimensions were given in metres. They had to calculate the cost of the tiles required. This required about 5 years of Mathematics instruction that these kids simply did not have – and this was the section that allowed them to use calculators. Funding is granted based on the results of students in these exams. A number of students at Mount Saint Joseph last year did not meet the benchmark, I believe only one student made the benchmark last year here. Our principal described our role here almost like providing resuscitation as they about to fall over the cliff. For these kids these exams will be torture. Getting them just to stay in the room will be a challenge. Even the girl in Year 10 could not begin to answer the Year 7 questions.

After the challenging behaviour of a couple of the girls, I walked in and had the best lesson with the boys I have had all year. One boy who just wants to do experiments and nothing else walked out in the first minute (what a surprise he was the brother of the girl who had just given me grief). We continued our work on the relationships between living things in the community. I love doing this work with the boys, as many of them hunt bush tucker and so they have a detailed knowledge of the things around them. City kids have their food so far removed from its point of origin they have no idea.

The boys were champions and I told them that they were showing me that I could trust them with experiments. I looked forward to giving them something more practical.

Today was really draining and I went home exhausted. It is hard to believe that a class of only 5 girls can wear you out so much.

It is hard not to get disheartened when you are only getting 3 and 4 from a roll of 15 students turn up each day. These girls I am making headway with and as they know me better they open up and share more about their life. What they see as the everyday just breaks my heart. Their anger and lack of confidence stems from very traumatized backgrounds. Some of them would just love to colour in all day and fight me tooth and nail when we have to do any work. I imagine this is safe and does not move them out of their comfort zone, where they are so much of the time. I just feel so anxious for them as I can see they are falling behind other kids of the same age at a rate of knots. I want them to have more than pregnancy and jail as options for their future. When you see how basic their numeracy and literacy skills are, most low skilled jobs will simply be beyond them. Thank goodness the art gallery is a strong community influence. A large number of the community are celebrated indigenous artists and each afternoon after school a couple of the kids find their way to the gallery and work among the older artists. The kids work is also on sale at the gallery. Some of them earn some income from this.

After lunch I taught Juliette’s class for 2 hours (this is a long stretch with 4 year olds believe me!). We read the Very Hungry Caterpillar a couple of times, with their fingers taking turns to weave in and out of the holes in the pages. We talked about the life cycle of the butterfly and what other animals undergo metamorphosis. We made our butterflies which had great flapping wings and took them outside to feed on the nectar. We then walked across the playground with them balancing on our heads. We had some great fun, but thank goodness there are only 4 of them.

Today was a quiet Sunday spent catching up on some housework and lesson preparation. I teach Science to the Pre-primary class (4 year olds) and to the 1/ 2 class. Despite this being my subject area I feel a little out of my depth with kids who cannot write yet. It is very hard to plan activities for a 2 hour block. I take my hat off to the teachers of young kids. I decided my lesson this week would deviate from the normal programme and we would look at life cycles and the idea of metamorphosis. I designed a craft butterfly they could each make.

The Ngapuny time (mass) this evening was a beautiful service. Although it was Palm Sunday, no priest would be available for the Last Supper mass so this was conducted this evening. Father Alastair greeted us warmly and laughed when Juliette told him she was going home to “her country” for Easter. He commented that she was even beginning to sound like one of the local kids. For the Indigenous, their country is everything. It contains all of their stories, their Dreaming symbols and the footsteps of their ancestors from many millennia. We cannot begin to understand how strong their link is with their land. Unlike us it is not a bond of ownership, but is held in custody by all the members of the community. It is up to them to keep it safe for the generations to come. This is why they do not wear shoes; as this reduces their contact with the land, which gives them everything.

We gathered in the semi darkness, under the open shelter that is their prayer space, with the sounds of nature as accompaniment. It was great to see about 10 younger children arrive for mass. Not brought by parents, they were just playing on the streets and thought they would join in. For the Last Supper mass, some of the older women from the community had gone and collected bush medicine and prepared it. Three large buckets filled with tea coloured water came out during the mass. This contained the bush medicine. Then we had turns of washing each others feet, just as Christ had done to his disciples. Mike washed the feet of a number of old Indigenous men, Juliette washed Sister Mary’s and my feet, some of the young children washed their teacher’s feet. It was incredibly moving to see the solemnity and reverence that each was afforded.

As Jesus shared a loaf of bread rather than the usual Holy Communion wafers, another older woman had baked a flattened damper loaf for us to share. As usual the hymns were all indigenous and Juliette led with her usual enthusiasm on the clapping sticks. When the microphone came around for the Prayers of the Faithful she once again brought smiles to many faces as she prayed “ I hope our Stations of the Cross at school goes well and that no robbers come and ruin it”. I have no idea where that second part came from.

It was certainly the most beautiful service I had been to in a long time and I was only sorry that we would not be here for the remaining Easter services.

After all the travelling of the last couple of weeks we decided to stay at home this weekend. A few of us got together at our place last night for drinks and conviviality and it reminded me of the great thing about living here, the sense of community.

Today was quite hot so this afternoon Leanne suggested a visit to Bow River for a swim. She collected Leanne Mosquito’s daughter Katie (who Juliette loves), and her two nieces and nephew. This was great for Juliette to have some younger company. Myfanwy and Comet jumped in our car.

It is only about 30km to the turn off to Bow River and where you swim is only about 1km off the highway, though the track is definitely 4WD access. We had seen this river roaring just below the bridge, although it had been over the bridge for a few hours. During a normal Wet Season, this bridge would go under a few times. Now, the sandy river bottom stretched for about 200 metres, yet we had to trek across the boiling sand to reach the water, as the river was now only about 20 metres wide. As you sat and looked at the great expanse of sand, it reminded you that this is a land of feast or famine, a harsh and unforgiving land. In a couple of weeks, all of this will be dried up and it will be December before it fills again.

Now we were all a little cautious swimming here as fresh water crocodiles are found in this river, Leanne herself has seen a small one. The indigenous have a great sense about these things and can sense when danger is around by both the smell and the reactions of the other animals such as birds. We whities have no such skills, and the Indigenous kids with us thought it was great fun to come up behind you, tickle your leg and yell crocodile.

We had a lovely afternoon, Mike boiled the billy and we sat in the shade taking in the scenery. As we drove past this river a few months ago, many families would be lazing in the water, fishing or splashing about. It made me appreciate why the kids are such strong swimmers, as the current in here was enormously strong during the Wet Season. Now it was easy just to float without the fear of being swept away.

It is funny these kids do not have swimmers. They simply walk into the pool or river in whatever they are wearing (usually long shorts and a T-shirt), simply get out and continue their day in the same clothes. The river is such an integral part of their life style, they take a greatly simplified approach to it. Even the mums at the pool just jump in with their clothes on, hop out and continue on with their day. This makes it all so much simpler.

Tonight we invited the new police officers over for drinks and a fire. We were heading to the end of our pantry so we had only one large packet of corn chips and I explained this to them. Everyone up here understands that when the pantry runs dry here, it is empty, no ducking to Coles. To make up for I made some damper mix, got them all to get a stick and mould some of the damper mix around it. You then toast it on the fire, slide it off and fill t with golden syrup. The food was not an issue though they all loved the damper. We had a sky with thousand of stars, a fire and good company. Everything else was unimportant.

                

It was wonderful to share our Kimberley experience with Urda and Karen. They came into our classrooms and gave learning support. It was a real eye opener for them as they had no real concept of what the day to day reality of life was for our students. As they assisted them with their struggling reading, shape making and song singing, the students opened up to them. Never had Urda and Karen had so many cuddles, and at one stage when they were helping me with the Year 1 and 2 class, they each had three kids straddled across their knees. These kids are so starved of affection that when they are shown warmth and care they respond so warmly.

Karen, being an accountant helped me teach the high school girls about salary, income and taxation in the simplest of forms. I demonstrated how a budget was necessary to work out how to make your income last. Many of their families go hungry just before the next Centrelink payment as they have spent all their money on inappropriate items as soon as the money arrives.

Urda helped Mike’s High School Boys’ complete a multiple choice test on the novel they were studying. In an attempt to prepare them for schooling beyond Ngalangangpum Mike had made an answer grid for them to record their selections on. They had no idea how to complete this, these skills that we just take for granted.

Both of them came to help me with the first writing task my girls have attempted. They were to write a reflection using the passage we had studied all term as a model. I had provided them with guided questions that they were to answer to aid the writing process. We only had four students, as I sent Karen outside with the student who could barely read, as writing was definitely beyond her at this stage. For an hour we struggled. Two of us worked with four students, but it seemed like many more. Some students need you to spell out every word for them. Indigenous kids do not understand the idea of a draft. First time it has to be perfect. The tempers fly as you remind them that a sentence needs to start with a capital or their sentence just does not make sense. One student only finished the task, a girl with the reading age of a Year 1 student. Her story was a total of four and a half lines, but to her it was an epistle. This was the longest creative writing she had ever completed. The smile on her face when she finished made a very difficult session worth it. The others simply would not finish. One student Urda was trying to work with just gives nothing away. You ask her a question and she is silent, no ideas are forthcoming. She is relatively bright but the lack of confidence is staggering. You are exhausted at the end from smiling and trying to be positive and encouraging.

What was so sad was that I asked the girls to base their reflection on a happy day in their life. All the stories began cheery but all were sad as they ended in violence. This was the reality of their sad and damaged lives. What started out as a great day fishing ended mostly with fighting. These kids simply spend too much time together. They are at school together, where they are almost all related in some way. They go home and it is the same people all over again. Any small squabble in one location is carried over into the other, with all the family involved in the great get even. Many kids have days off due to fear of resprisal or some threat from another community member. It is not uncommon to have mums arrive at your classroom door to have their say to someone in your class for some issue outside of school. Too much free time and too little to keep themselves occupied

Most of all Urda and Karen spent time in Juliette’s classroom. Many kids throughout the school would say to me “she Juliette’s fairy godmother” as Juliette had told them she was coming. I had certainly been replaced as the favourite this week, though she did assure me that once they went home I would be her favourite again.

Both Karen and Urda have a strong artistic bent so they had a visit to the art gallery. They were blown away by the beauty of the Warmun art which is very distinct. The artists’ only use traditional ochre’s which they crush themselves. They each returned to Sydney with a purchase from the gallery.

Urda went walking with Dave a couple of mornings in the dawn and these photos were taken just behind the houses. This is what we look upon.

Kununurra township is actually tucked in among the trees through the gap, less than 500 metres away.

The cool morning quickly surrendered to a very hot day. We were limited with our sightseeing options today as we had to do a grocery shop and drive the two hours back to Warmun before sunset as our guests were very keen to see the spectacular scenery on the drive out. Juliette is such a water baby now, just like the Indigenous kids who I think must come out of the womb ready to tackle the swollen creeks and rivers. It was off to the pool first up this morning, but as the nights are beginning to cool, so does the water temperature. It amazes me that for a place that can reach 40 degrees during the day, and only drop to 20 overnight, that the water still manages to cool off to such a degree. Any wonder our pool in Carlingford is so cold!

We had been told about the beauty of Hidden Valley, which is described as a mini version of the Bungle Bungles. This sits immediately on the edge of Kununurra and so this is where we ventured after our swim. We drove into it from a road on the edge of town, (where houses still were it is that close) and entered this ancient valley that looked like the land that time forgot. The rocks were weathered in the most spectacular shapes and colours. We chose one of the smaller walking tracks because of the intense heat, although none were more than 1km return. We were a little cautious as the path was overgrown with dense grass spreading onto it. This made the spotting of snakes a little difficult so we made sure we trod heavily to scare any away. Also, the grass was like thousands of needles against your bare legs.

 

Mike carrying Juliette as he was worried about snakes and she could not take the needle-like grass.

The discomforts were certainly worth the experience as we chose the track that gave us views over Kununurra. Where the track stopped the timelessness of this landscape enveloped you. The rocks and surrounding bush spoke of survival against the harshest of elements. This land always strikes me as incredibly spiritual. Not only because of the Aboriginal links with it, but in the way that the landscape stands as testimony to what one can endure and survive to tell the tale. The cool rock ledges allow the imagination to easily picture the families who would have sheltered here from the glaring sun over the last 30, 000 years. We could not linger as the heat was intense and Karen in particular was feeling it.

Off to the shops for a quick gathering of goodies for our next fortnight. Karen and Urda who are both people who call in to the shops every couple of days for their food in Sydney were daunted by the organization needed when the shops are now 200 km away. It is something I was getting used to and in actual fact made me realize how much time in Sydney is wasted shopping. I vowed to myself on return that I would act like they were 200km away, shop less often and use the time more productively.

It was a thrill to be able to share the beauty of the drive back to Warmun with someone close to us as it really is spectacular. The landscape was changing and the waterfalls and lush green had gone. On a trip together to Broken Hill last year Urda had said she could hear my soul singing in the wide open spaces. I felt like theirs was now making its music.

We were home in time for Ngapuny (God time or mass) and so all went down to the little shelter for mass. Here they met some of the local characters and shared the special blend of indigenous spirituality and Catholicism. It is a very special time and I am glad they were able to experience this. Alastair, the retired priest from Deniliquin is filling in until a new parish priest is found. He speaks in a relaxed and warm way. I will be sorry to see him go.

 It was great to see close friends again.

Beck and Karen enjoying a picnic lunch at Black Rock Falls.

It was an early start this morning as we had to pick my dear friend Urda and my cousin Karen up from the airport in Kununurra at 10.30. Urda is Juliette’s godmother (of the special fairy variety) and one of my dearest friends. We all missed each other terribly and Juliette had been counting down the days to her arrival. She had already warned me that Aunty Urda was sleeping in her bed all week and that I was not allowed to talk to her as she was hers alone. I was allowed to talk to Karen instead. Karen my cousin is pregnant with number three son and was taking the opportunity to have her last relaxing holiday in probably years.

It was certainly wonderful to see them again and we took them on a scenic tour of downtown Kununurra (this is a relatively quick tour). We did have a gourmet coffee with them at the Boab café as this is our real treat when in town. We were staying once again at the Kimberleyland Caravan Park, nestled on the shores of Lake Kununurra. We took them to the cabin and showed them the obligatory freshwater crocodiles that were metres away from our cabin.

After this we packed a picnic and headed out to Black Rock Falls. It is interesting to note that we have had no real rain since the end of February, only one very brief shower. This was an usually early end to the Wet Season. The indigenous had told us at Warmun that the grasshoppers that arrived in plague proportions in the first days of March were their signal that the Wet was over. It seems they were right for the grass which had been so lush and green only weeks ago was now browning, the once swollen rivers were now narrow trickles, the dirt was slowly powdering into the finest dust and the cracks were opening up in the ground. I am so happy we had seen this land in its time of abundance as it stands in such stark contrast to what it will become over the coming months. Even the tourists are beginning to increase in number as the roads slowly open for all the major tourist attractions. I can only imagine how dramatic the transformation will be of this land if there is no rain again until December. Last year though, they had rain during June, which would be great this year as locals claim it was not a real wet, as the storms did not produce the average volume of rain here. In contrast, Wyndham which is about 200 km north had a well above average rainfall for February.

With the lack of rainfall, Black Rock Falls was a very small trickle, most of which was blown off as mist by the wind. It will be a matter of a couple of weeks and this will cease altogether. I felt so lucky that we had seen it at its best. Still, this did not dampen our enthusiasm, or our visitors wonder of the beauty of the area. A leisurely afternoon was spent swimming in the cool pool at the bottom of the waterfall.

After our swim we took them a further 50 km north to Wyndham. Karen had done a great around Australia Odyssey before the arrival of her children, but had never been there. The confluence of the five major rivers of the Kimberley into the Cambridge Gulf is so spectacular we thought it was definitely worth the drive. They were not disappointed and shared our sense of awe at the isolation and untamed beauty of the place.

For dinner we took them to the Country Club as we always like the food here and they know us now. Once again we were not disappointed.

The view across Cambridge Gulf from 5 Rivers Lookout.