Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Farewells, snakes and late night hunting

Last night was my farewell from Mulga Bore as well as being our usual end of term celebration. Robyn who I work with at the school had put a lot of time and effort into planning a few surprises for me but there are some things you just can’t plan for!
We had gathered outside as it was a very balmy evening and let’s face it that mob would rather be outside than in pretty much anytime. We had just finished handing out all of the certificates to outstanding students and had given everyone a copy of the new Utopia School CD which we are all very proud and every one was very excited about. We had finally settled all the kids down and Robyn had just launched into her very serious and moving speech about me and my time at Mulga Bore when what should I see slithering along the ground towards us but a very small, very fast snake! I pointed it out to Violet who was sitting beside me 2 seconds later the entire 150 people, men women and children had scattered and begun to climb trees, verandahs and each other to escape from the snake. Admittedly Violet and I were the only ones who had seen the size of the snake and once people realised it wasn’t a major threat one of the old women casually walked over and thumped it with a large lump of wood. That crisis averted, we moved everyone inside, just to be safe, and started the speeches again.
What followed was one of the most special hours of my life. The outpouring of love and pride and sorrow at my departure was truly humbling and many tears were shed. The kids had decorated the classroom with signs and paper chains and they had all written little thankyou cards which they presented to me one at a time while shaking hands to say goodbye. The shaking of hands in the indigenous world is a custom usually reserved for ‘Sorry business’, usually when someone dies. While last night was actually a happy celebration in many ways of the relationship I have built with the people of Mulga Bore, there was certainly a lot of grief about it too. The community teachers and adults had a chance to speak too and their effort to express complicated emotions in a language that is hard for them was really touching. Speeches were followed by a Community BBQ and a disco with matt and Kelly from Music Outback doing the musical honours.
Finally at about 9:30pm the evening wrapped up and it was time for me to drive some people and myself home. We were in convoy with another car from 3 Mile community (one of my pick up points) and, predicatably, something went wrong! They got a flat tyre. Luckily they had a spare. You can’t always count on that! Unfortunately the spare was not as inflated as it could have been so we were reduced to driving quite slowly for the 50 or so kms home. Fortunately this meant that when the other car hit a kangaroo were were going slowly enough to avoid hitting it. This also meant that were were going slowly enough to stop and have someone grab it before it limped away. This task fell to Angela who was travelling in the front seat. She fairly leapt out of the car and quick as a flash grabbed onto the tail. The kangaroo, sensing perhaps the fate that awaited him, struggled to free himself from Angela’s grip. At this point Angela decided to call for back up, specifically ME! So I did my bit, jumped out of the car and I too grabbed hold of the tail. Then the cries came from the back of my car ‘Hit it in the head!’ I should say at this point that the kangaroo had been injured when the car struck it and could no longer hop. Out here that leaves you with one option – Ker (meat). So Lachlan, one of my students joins us on the road with a great big tree stump in hand and proceeded to thump the poor old kangaroo on the head a couple of times. I have to admit I turned away at this point, but I was still holding onto the tail. The Ker was then tossed into the back of the other car and we got underway again.
It’s hard to convey the mood in the car after this unexpected hunting activity, but it’s fair to say it was light. People were happy. They had had a good night with all the families together, a BBQ, a disco and now they had tomorrow’s breakfast all lined up. Maybe it doesn’t get much better than that?
It was such a great night and one which in so many ways reflected all the things I love about being out here. I found myself struggling to remember the reasons why I had decided to leave.

Monday, December 11, 2006

Last times

Today was my last Monday at Mulga Bore. Tomorrow will be my last Tuesday. On the weekend as I drove back out to Utopia from Alice Springs I realised that it would be the last time I would drive back to Utopia. Of course I'm being melodramatic. It might not be my last time doing any of these thiings. I might end up back out here. But nothing is sure. I guess if I think about it I have been experiencing Last Times for a while now - last winter in the desert, last time at Ti tree Sports, last Christmas concert, last time wrapping Christmas presents for 50 kids (not so sad about that one!), last hunting trip, last time listening to bad country/gospel music, last time making fritz sandwiches (not too sad about that one either!!) Maybe the noting of Last Times is our way of making sure the passing of a significant moment doesn't pass us by? As we were cleaning the school today and I was joking around with my Senior girls one of them said to me suddenly 'Lisa stop'. I have heard this phrase before, usually when I'm driving the car and someone see's a goanna crossing the road, but the tone was different this time. I said to her 'stop what?'. 'Stop here' she replied, 'Dont go'. 'But I have to go and have a rest' was all I could think to reply, quickly adding 'I might come back'. 'You wont' she answered with the voice of someone who has been promised such things before and been let down. And my heart broke a little bit. And I wonder to myself why I'm not 'stopping'?
Last times are hard. Leaving is hard.