I
walk the footsteps of the Dungaburra-yidinji
Thursday night was a
lovely break from study as 2 Dungaburra-yidinji elders, Doug and Syb,
from a local rainforest aboriginal tribe joined us for dinner. I had
the pleasure of personally chatting with Syb who called herself one
of the “snowies” (obviously regarding her white hair). Syb was
amazing. I cannot adequately describe my experience in speaking with
her. The wisdom she naturally exuded riveted me to the bench, and I
listened intently as she told the stories of her ancestors, how her
tribe has changed and most importantly how her culture has stayed
strong. She spoke softly, but directly with an impressive pride in
who she was and where she came from. She turned to the rainforest
teeming with life around us and showed me a supermarket, a long
history and a home. Everything she was and everything she would ever
need came from her connection with the rainforest. Her sons, about
my own age, have left for a trip around the world to investigate
their origins. Syb’s husband has some Dutch and Italian in him, and
so she described how her sons would walk the footsteps that their
grandfathers’ took in Italy and eventually return to their true home
complete and ready to take on their responsibilities here. She
explained that although the industrialized world seems to be
constantly pushing into their lives, they have worked hard to keep
their culture intact.
I could have listened
to her talk for hours, but the group had to gather around a campfire
for the elders’ talk. Syb welcomed our group to their “country”
(country being their part of the rainforest) and eloquently told us
how the rainforest was our new home for the next few months and how
our footprints will walk on the footprints of their ancestors. She
said that she and her brother, Doug, would be our guardians while we
are away from our homes and families. It was a very comforting
welcome and brought the rainforest to new life for me. And it was
the first night that the sky was clear enough to see the brilliant
stars above us.
The next morning, my
cabin woke up bright and early just as the sun was peaking out to
join our eccentric German biologist in a bird walk. It was extremely
interesting as we stopped to identify and record the various birds
and spot them with our binoculars. I discovered that the loud and
obnoxious bird outside our cabin that wakes me up by
5:30am every morning is called a chowchilla.
Friday is community
service day, and my group visited the TREAT restoration nursery at
Lake Eacham National Park. The purpose of TREAT is to gather and
germinate several hundred different rainforest tree species for
planting around critical habitat corridors. We met the local senior
community because the service is mostly volunteer-based. My job was
to help pot seedlings for the next planting at Peterson Creek. Our
work was interrupted by a mid-morning “smoko” where everyone gathers
for hot tea and deserts. It is mandatory around Australia at all
workplaces that people take a “smoko” break mid-morning for tea and
cakes. It was really relaxing – something the US should implement.
We spent the rest of
the afternoon doing “warrawork” or center cleaning before heading to
Atherton for some free time. A group of us girls went to the Big W
to buy chocolate and candy treats. Then we gossiped at a local café
while sipping mango passion fruit smoothies. Bellies full, we met up
with the rest of the group at an athletic field to play ultimate
Frisbee. Very intense game, but definitely fun.
Sunday was the croc
park. I have some awesome videos of 5 meter long crocodiles leaping
up to grab some raw dinner from wicked funny guides. The creepy part
was when our Aussie guide would wheel a cart full of meat from cage
to cage calling to the crocs “Come here little girls.” It reminded
of some line that could be from a horror movie, especially with his
strong Aussie accent.
The rest of this week
was jam-packed with classes, guest
lecturers and water-monitoring field exercises. Our first major
report is due Monday, so much of our free time this week was devoted
to writing up a field exercise report that analyzed our water
quality testing results.
Saturday morning we
got up early to help out TREAT at a restoration site along Peterson
Creek. Together we planted over 1,200 tree saplings. It was a great
opportunity to work with the local environmentalists and volunteer
activists who are really trying to make an ecological difference in
restoring degrading streams from the intense agriculture on the
Atherton Tablelands. They’ve been doing this for over 20 years now
and the system is virtually flawless and smoothly run. After
finishing up goodbyes and our barbie burgers, we headed to Lake
Eacham for a “shower” before we had an afternoon talk with Doug and
Syb again. This time they focused on their culture, showing us
various artifacts and stories. Interestingly, they showed us a map
of what Australia looks like to them territory-wise. And instead of
a few large states, there were hundreds of boundary lines, marking
each tribe’s territory across the entire continent. Each tribe is
considered a “country” and within each tribe or country, there are
clans. Doug and Syb are from the Dungaburra clan within the Yidinji
tribe. Another interesting story they told us was of the didjeridu.
Apparently, the “masters” of the didjeridus are only in the very
northern part of Australia and Doug will only play a didjeridu in
those parts of Australia because he feels he would disrespect his
ancestors by playing an instrument that is not a part of his
culture. The same goes for the boomerang, which is only used by
desert people who have more space to throw it. It changed my
perception of the cultural significance of the didjeridu with a new
understanding of the commercialization and misuse of the item. I
will probably still buy a boomerang for my dad though, and most
likely have a personalized didj made for me because, I mean, it’s my
didj, right?
Australian phrases of
the week: How ya goin? (means how are you?)
Good on ya, mate!
(means good job)
Spot on! (means right
on)
Right-o! (means ok,
good, let’s move on)
P.S. I tried vegemite. It is the foulest thing I have ever tried in
my entire life. It’s not even worth trying to say you’ve tried it.
It’s that bad.
