It feels quite strange writing week 6 and I'm almost halfway through the 7th week here on Warruwi. Time certainly travels fast when having fun!
The previous week is about as usual as a week on Warruwi can get.
I worked at school Monday through to Friday. In the mornings I taught one-on-one with my selected students and we are slowly progressing in our story writing. The major project for my students was to write, type, print and then even draw the pictures for a story that they wrote. We are even going to print the stories as a book. One student is writing about life on Warruwi while another is giving step-by-step instructions on making cookies- I think he's thinking that eventually he'll get to a) make cookies or b) eat cookies!
I have some good news to report though with one particular student. It's hard to describe precisely the work I am doing as there are child protection laws, but I will brag about this one annoymous student, after all he is the example of which I came up here for. When he began working with me he was on level 3 reading recovery. However with all the one-on-one work I have been doing with him, he has progressed to level 6. I am so proud of him and he is so proud of himself. Today for the first time ever he also read an 'information' (read: non-fiction) book on dogs. As a result of his great progress he has even tried harder in other subjects such as maths and just general classroom behaviour. He now loves reading and picks up every book he can find, even novels vastly above his level, reads the title and flicks through the pages. I feel like I have actually contributed something worthwhile to the community up here.
On Friday unfortunately there was the beginning of another funeral. A eldery gentleman has passed during the wet but as the ground was too saturated for a burial, his funeral is only being held now. We did not participate in the Friday traditions, such as the greeting of the plane as the school did not have a direct role. Also I would hate to appear as a 'culture tourist.' Instead we watched the Mawing dancing on Saturday night. The Mawing dancing is less demonstrative than for example the Elcho People, but it is still amazing and deeply symbolic. Last night the Elcho People danced and to be honest that was more exhilerating, but I feel privileged just to see any dancing at all.
Saturday was the police's annual 'Off the Hook' fishing competition for the school students. About 50 students attended the event at Bottle Rock and all students received a prizes. The biggest prizes were for longest fish, most fish caught, ugliest or strangest fish and best behaved student. They received reels and tackle boxes, basketballs and vortexs. Other students received t-shirts and frisbees. They had an awesome time and ever since have been hassling me about getting another 'Off the Hook' happening this weekend. It's not happening kids!
We were lucky on Sunday as Louie and Christian, the policemen, took us out on the boat to North Goulburn Island. North Goulburn is deserted of people but full of goats and crocodiles (apparently). So disappointed though, I still haven't seen a crocodile. But the island is beautiful with white sand and pale blue water and coral reefs. Although to be honest I was hesitant to go swimming properly. The fear of sharks and crocodiles were the in back of my mind even as I paddled and folicked. Jen and Louie were standing in ankle deep water when they saw a black-tipped reef shark (admittedly small) glide on past. Christian on the other hand is scared of nothing, with his spear and anti-stinger diving suit he snorkelled the reef catching crayfish.
As the beaches are so unspoiled, I managed to fossick around and find some awesome shells and coral pieces. Some were quite huge, with beautiful orange markings. Others were cowrie shells, with the black dots worn away to a light purple undertone. I will be bringing these home.
Also as we navigated our boat to the northern-most tip of the island, we saw turtles, a pod of dolphins, huge sting-rays and of course school after school of fish. The trip up to this northern point was rough going, with swell breaking at random points where reefs breached the surface.
We were late home on Sunday, arriving back to the island at about 4pm. So basically to tease everyone down South in the middle of winter (or at least the coldest May in 41 years) I spent the day sightseeing and lounging on tropical deserted beaches and paddling in pristine water! We even had a lovely lunch of vita-weets and peanut butter (remember I do live in a remote community- that's a 4 star meal right there!).
Yesterday was back at school again, and so the week repeats itself. I will tell you all about this week in next week's blog, including how tonight we're having Fillipino Honey Chicken with the police tonight.
Finally, I do have some housekeeping news though. I am actually coming home! I have booked Aaron's and my flight for the 5th July. We will be touching down on Sydney tarmac at 7.10am on Tuesday 5th July. So another month and then I'll be embracing the cold with you too!
Croc watch: Still no freaking crocodiles. Starting to doubt their existance.
Croc
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
Week Five
What a bender...
As you can tell my latest post is an unreasonably one day late (gasp!). My only excuse for such a complete lack of dedication and respect for my lovely friends who care enough to read these weekly rantings is that quite franky I was too boozed up in Darwin to type.
To begin...
On Friday 20th May at precisely 2.30pm a charter plane picked up the teachers of Warruwi to go into Darwin to celebrate a significant birthday. For fear of imposing on the lovely lady I will avoid telling you figure, but shall just hint that it was definitely worth a huge celebration. After a flight of about 1.5 hours, where I spent most of the time trying to not let the contents of my stomach escape we landed in Darwin. For those of you who haven't travelled significant distances in a lightweight plane, you are missing out on nothing. It's uncomfortable, cramped, loud and you can see over the pilot's shoulder as she looks at a map to seeing we she's taking us. Plus, you have the highly unnerving experience of being weighed before getting onto the plane. They need to work out where you are going to sit for even weight distribution throughout the cabin. I also take it that if you are too fat you simply can't travel as the plane won't get off the ground.
After a quick pick up Jen and I were dropped off at our accommodation 'The Cav' right in the centre of Darwin. The Cav was semi-backpackers, semi-motel and a whole lot of pub. In the end the atmosphere was lovely and so was the pool. I would recommend The Cav to anyone visiting Darwin.
The party was to begin with a sunset cruise at 5.30pm. The cruise we'll say was the 'official party' and with official parties comes official themes. Of course this theme was purple and as anyone who knows me knows purple is a horrendous colour for someone of my colouring to wear. Needless to say I didn't own anything purple, nor did I bring up anything to NT nice enough to wear at such a formal outing. The same went for Jen. So we did the dash to the main Smith Street Mall where I managed to pick up a dress, cardi, necklace and shoes within 10 minutes. Don't know how but I'm not going to question it.
However unfortunately Jen had a little less luck. So due to our strict timings, I had to abandon Jen and run back to The Cav to have a quick shower and get dressed. I was completely dressed and ready and Jen hadn't even arrived back yet! And it was 5.10pm! We should have left by now!!! (Remember we were going on a boat and boats sail on time with or without you!)
Luckily Jen just came through the door, her hands weighed down by bags. She still had to have a shower and get dressed. She was unconcerned, however I was unnerved. Darwin is like Gosford, there are only a few taxis and our trip to the boat was going to take at least 10 minutes! I tried not to pace.
Within 10 minutes she was ready. However like I had predicted there were no taxis. We ran throughout Darwin and literally around the block. Jen trailing me in ridiculously high heeled shoes. As we were running Jen received a phone call from the teacher and she said we had to be there in 5 minutes or the boat would take off without us. The pressure was building, when low and behold a taxi pulled into a side street in front of us. We were in.
However as whenever you are in a hurry the traffic was pathetic. We got stuck behind one shitty bright purple (ironic?) ute that was intent on going 49km in a 60km zone.
Luckily the torment was almost over. We reached the wharf, ran down the jetty and jumped onto the boat. The captain turned on the engine just as I stepped on board.
This boat was pretty spectacular. If you remember the movie 'Australia' think back to the part where Hugh Jackman and his mate are rescuing all those Indigenous boys from a Japanese infiltrated island. They used a white yacht to sail the boys from the island, through the thick fog onto Darwin wharf. Well the party was on that yacht. A lovely boat that created a strong party and possibly romantic atmosphere. Jen's high shoes came off pretty quickly.
Now, I didn't realise how much I missed drinking until I stopped. Discovering you are an alcoholic is never good, but worse is when you're an undiscovered alcoholic who has not had a drink in five weeks. But worse again is when you're an undiscovered alcoholic who has not had a drink in five weeks who suddenly finds themself on a cruise with free drinks. Opps.
I remember the cruise, with a spectacular orangey-red sunset and tear-jerking sentimental speeches and an awesome purple birthday cake. However by disembarking the world was fuzzy. I vaguely remember going back to the teacher's apartment where we dropped off leftover booze and food. I then vaguely remember drinking and then walking for ages to get to the arguably best club in Darwin monsoons. I remember being carded and the bouncer saying that 'he had to watch out for those Gosford girls.' (On a side note, it's pretty intense that the Central Coast's hard-partying reputation has been spread as far as Darwin). I then remember seeing some girls who I thought were strippers but apparently were just out on a hen's night.
I then woke up at 7am back at The Cav. Jen had only just come in.
For this reason I assume that Friday night was awesome and that Darwin's nightlife is amazing. I could have just been a lonely, sad person drinking my sorrows away and admitting to my newly found alcoholism, yet Jen told me I had fun. Apparently I was dancing on the stage, downing tequila and even sambucca- I don't even like sambucca.
Saturday was a day that wasn't worth remembering. In the evening however we met everyone for a birthday dinner at an Irish pub. I had bruscetta and then tried to eat lamb shanks. I could not. I was home again, in bed, asleep, by 10.30pm.
Sunday was a much happier affair. I woke up at a reasonable time, went for a swim at the lovely pool, ate a big vegetarian omlette and read the Sunday Territorian. Lovely. Jen and I then had to check out at 10am. As I did not have the opportunity the day before to explore Darwin fully so I went a walking. I found a lovely little coffee shop where I had a traditional peppermint tea and spoke to Nan, Mum, Matt and Tom. I especially appreciated speaking to Nan and Tom as I hadn't spoken to either in ages. Actually since I had left.
Then I sunbaked the day away at Darwin waterfront. Going into the wave pool or the lagoon as necessary to cool off. I know how to live.
At 4pm however we all had to meet again at a pub for one last round before going onto the plane and back to Warruwi. Now it's difficult enough to me to get on this plane, but then one teacher starts informing me that she's concerned that the charter plane company has left our take-off too late. Turns out unless for a medical evacuation planes are not supposed to set down at Warruwi after dark. Our plane was to take off at 5.30pm and last light is 6.41pm. Hardy then did not have us take off until 5.44pm. Now my palms were sweaty with nerves, especially when the cabin did not have lights and I couldn't read anymore. Well we all know the ending. We landed fine in the dark otherwise I would not have been able to write about my experience in this post. I have though added another reason why not to fly in small planes- flight landings can be inflexible.
Well also I have realised that I am yet to explain a typical day in Warruwi to you. So here's our timetable:
7am: Wake up. Breakfast and pack up beds.
7.30am: Teachers arrive in classroom and I do preparation
8am: Morning sport
8.30am: Weet Bix breakfast for students
8.45am: Teethbrushing for students
8.50am: In class
9am: One-on-one reading with student number one (We read a text together, then I ask questions measuring and testing their level of understanding of the text, then we do word attack games where they learn simple words like 'can,' 'was' and 'fish' off by heart, and then I am working with the students to write their own story)
9.30am: Another student
10am: Another student
10.30am: Recess
10.50am: Maths class
12.30pm: Lunch
1pm: Usually a cultural lesson, or research projects, or reading
2.10pm: School is over
2.30pm: Back into our classroom to do more preparation or other things that may need to be done
5.15pm: Afternoon sport with the teachers. This could be a bike ride, walk, swim etc.
6.30pm: Back for dinner
10pm (Usually!): Bedtime
And now evening sport is about to begin. So that's brought you all up to date. I should also mention that the Boy who passed away was buried yesterday while we were gone. Another funeral is expected to begin this Friday.
As you can tell my latest post is an unreasonably one day late (gasp!). My only excuse for such a complete lack of dedication and respect for my lovely friends who care enough to read these weekly rantings is that quite franky I was too boozed up in Darwin to type.
To begin...
On Friday 20th May at precisely 2.30pm a charter plane picked up the teachers of Warruwi to go into Darwin to celebrate a significant birthday. For fear of imposing on the lovely lady I will avoid telling you figure, but shall just hint that it was definitely worth a huge celebration. After a flight of about 1.5 hours, where I spent most of the time trying to not let the contents of my stomach escape we landed in Darwin. For those of you who haven't travelled significant distances in a lightweight plane, you are missing out on nothing. It's uncomfortable, cramped, loud and you can see over the pilot's shoulder as she looks at a map to seeing we she's taking us. Plus, you have the highly unnerving experience of being weighed before getting onto the plane. They need to work out where you are going to sit for even weight distribution throughout the cabin. I also take it that if you are too fat you simply can't travel as the plane won't get off the ground.
After a quick pick up Jen and I were dropped off at our accommodation 'The Cav' right in the centre of Darwin. The Cav was semi-backpackers, semi-motel and a whole lot of pub. In the end the atmosphere was lovely and so was the pool. I would recommend The Cav to anyone visiting Darwin.
The party was to begin with a sunset cruise at 5.30pm. The cruise we'll say was the 'official party' and with official parties comes official themes. Of course this theme was purple and as anyone who knows me knows purple is a horrendous colour for someone of my colouring to wear. Needless to say I didn't own anything purple, nor did I bring up anything to NT nice enough to wear at such a formal outing. The same went for Jen. So we did the dash to the main Smith Street Mall where I managed to pick up a dress, cardi, necklace and shoes within 10 minutes. Don't know how but I'm not going to question it.
However unfortunately Jen had a little less luck. So due to our strict timings, I had to abandon Jen and run back to The Cav to have a quick shower and get dressed. I was completely dressed and ready and Jen hadn't even arrived back yet! And it was 5.10pm! We should have left by now!!! (Remember we were going on a boat and boats sail on time with or without you!)
Luckily Jen just came through the door, her hands weighed down by bags. She still had to have a shower and get dressed. She was unconcerned, however I was unnerved. Darwin is like Gosford, there are only a few taxis and our trip to the boat was going to take at least 10 minutes! I tried not to pace.
Within 10 minutes she was ready. However like I had predicted there were no taxis. We ran throughout Darwin and literally around the block. Jen trailing me in ridiculously high heeled shoes. As we were running Jen received a phone call from the teacher and she said we had to be there in 5 minutes or the boat would take off without us. The pressure was building, when low and behold a taxi pulled into a side street in front of us. We were in.
However as whenever you are in a hurry the traffic was pathetic. We got stuck behind one shitty bright purple (ironic?) ute that was intent on going 49km in a 60km zone.
Luckily the torment was almost over. We reached the wharf, ran down the jetty and jumped onto the boat. The captain turned on the engine just as I stepped on board.
This boat was pretty spectacular. If you remember the movie 'Australia' think back to the part where Hugh Jackman and his mate are rescuing all those Indigenous boys from a Japanese infiltrated island. They used a white yacht to sail the boys from the island, through the thick fog onto Darwin wharf. Well the party was on that yacht. A lovely boat that created a strong party and possibly romantic atmosphere. Jen's high shoes came off pretty quickly.
Now, I didn't realise how much I missed drinking until I stopped. Discovering you are an alcoholic is never good, but worse is when you're an undiscovered alcoholic who has not had a drink in five weeks. But worse again is when you're an undiscovered alcoholic who has not had a drink in five weeks who suddenly finds themself on a cruise with free drinks. Opps.
I remember the cruise, with a spectacular orangey-red sunset and tear-jerking sentimental speeches and an awesome purple birthday cake. However by disembarking the world was fuzzy. I vaguely remember going back to the teacher's apartment where we dropped off leftover booze and food. I then vaguely remember drinking and then walking for ages to get to the arguably best club in Darwin monsoons. I remember being carded and the bouncer saying that 'he had to watch out for those Gosford girls.' (On a side note, it's pretty intense that the Central Coast's hard-partying reputation has been spread as far as Darwin). I then remember seeing some girls who I thought were strippers but apparently were just out on a hen's night.
I then woke up at 7am back at The Cav. Jen had only just come in.
For this reason I assume that Friday night was awesome and that Darwin's nightlife is amazing. I could have just been a lonely, sad person drinking my sorrows away and admitting to my newly found alcoholism, yet Jen told me I had fun. Apparently I was dancing on the stage, downing tequila and even sambucca- I don't even like sambucca.
Saturday was a day that wasn't worth remembering. In the evening however we met everyone for a birthday dinner at an Irish pub. I had bruscetta and then tried to eat lamb shanks. I could not. I was home again, in bed, asleep, by 10.30pm.
Sunday was a much happier affair. I woke up at a reasonable time, went for a swim at the lovely pool, ate a big vegetarian omlette and read the Sunday Territorian. Lovely. Jen and I then had to check out at 10am. As I did not have the opportunity the day before to explore Darwin fully so I went a walking. I found a lovely little coffee shop where I had a traditional peppermint tea and spoke to Nan, Mum, Matt and Tom. I especially appreciated speaking to Nan and Tom as I hadn't spoken to either in ages. Actually since I had left.
Then I sunbaked the day away at Darwin waterfront. Going into the wave pool or the lagoon as necessary to cool off. I know how to live.
At 4pm however we all had to meet again at a pub for one last round before going onto the plane and back to Warruwi. Now it's difficult enough to me to get on this plane, but then one teacher starts informing me that she's concerned that the charter plane company has left our take-off too late. Turns out unless for a medical evacuation planes are not supposed to set down at Warruwi after dark. Our plane was to take off at 5.30pm and last light is 6.41pm. Hardy then did not have us take off until 5.44pm. Now my palms were sweaty with nerves, especially when the cabin did not have lights and I couldn't read anymore. Well we all know the ending. We landed fine in the dark otherwise I would not have been able to write about my experience in this post. I have though added another reason why not to fly in small planes- flight landings can be inflexible.
Well also I have realised that I am yet to explain a typical day in Warruwi to you. So here's our timetable:
7am: Wake up. Breakfast and pack up beds.
7.30am: Teachers arrive in classroom and I do preparation
8am: Morning sport
8.30am: Weet Bix breakfast for students
8.45am: Teethbrushing for students
8.50am: In class
9am: One-on-one reading with student number one (We read a text together, then I ask questions measuring and testing their level of understanding of the text, then we do word attack games where they learn simple words like 'can,' 'was' and 'fish' off by heart, and then I am working with the students to write their own story)
9.30am: Another student
10am: Another student
10.30am: Recess
10.50am: Maths class
12.30pm: Lunch
1pm: Usually a cultural lesson, or research projects, or reading
2.10pm: School is over
2.30pm: Back into our classroom to do more preparation or other things that may need to be done
5.15pm: Afternoon sport with the teachers. This could be a bike ride, walk, swim etc.
6.30pm: Back for dinner
10pm (Usually!): Bedtime
And now evening sport is about to begin. So that's brought you all up to date. I should also mention that the Boy who passed away was buried yesterday while we were gone. Another funeral is expected to begin this Friday.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Week Four
The last week has been a massive cultural rollercoaster, but one that I'm glad I have been on. I now feel completely embraced by the Warruwi community. Almost a local or as much as a local that a non-indigenous could feel I guess.
The week began on a sad note. A young boy passed away during the wet season and the community is now having a funeral or 'sorry time' for him. As he was a student at Warruwi School, the entire school community has been involved in the funeral traditions. At precisely 1.45pm on Tuesday afternoon all students at the school were piled into the troopie and other Council 4WDs to meet the plane carrying the coffin at the airstrip. To ward off spirits of the dead everyone was painted with clay on any exposed skin, so my arms, legs and face was streaked with clay. The students and all the teachers sat in silence and waited the plane's arrival. Once it had touched down on the tarmac and started to taxi over to the bus stop that is Warruwi airport, the women began wailing and crying.
As the coffin was lifted out of the plane by men, the students formed two lines. The coffin was then carried down these two lines and placed in the back of the troopie. The men then gathered to the front of the troopie and began singing, dancing and playing the didgeridoo and clapping sticks. A large red flag was placed on the front of the troopie, which was then held by an elder. The red flag symbolised the boy's country. Students then surrounded the car, with most clustering around trying to touch the car's body. We began a sad and relatively silent funeral procession to the funeral grounds.
We walked through the community with the men playing music, singing and dancing and the troopie blasting it's horn every so often to tell others in the community that the boy had arrived.
Once we reached the funeral grounds again the students formed two lines. The coffin was then lifted out of the troopie and carried to the pandanus and eucalyptus hut. This hut was built for the purpose of holding the coffin for the two week funeral or sorry time before the actual burial. The ground of the funeral grounds is actually sand brought from another part of the island. This sand assists in the dancing or correborres that occur every night during this funeral.
The wailing of the women only intensified as the coffin was brought to the grounds, with some older women flinging themselves onto the sand. This physical outpouring of grief you may have seen in films about indigenous culture or even in the movie Australia.
The students and teachers then were asked to sit to the side, as one of the fathers of the young boy made a speech in Mawing. Of course I don't understand Mawing, but he said in English afterwards, something to effect of thanking us for coming and showing respect to his family, country and son. He then came up to the teachers and I and shaked our hands individually and told us to come to the nightly correborrees. I can only imagine he said similar words in Mawing.
We then left the funeral grounds.
I can only say that the Western way of 'carrying on' when dealing with death can learn a lot by this tradition. I remember when my nan passed, which was on a Sunday, I took Monday off work. But by Tuesday I was back at it. On the Thursday was her funeral. This was such a quick time between life and death. There was no lingering or allowing families and friends to process the event that had occurred. It was like reading a real good book and then just slamming it shut. We're told in English lessons at school to analyse the story to really appreciate it's meaning and I feel like there was limited opportunity for this to occur in the case of my nan. This sorry time, that I have been a relatively uninformed witness to, to me, allows for the processing of death and most importantly a celebration of life and culture. I remember only truly processing my nan's passing in Cologne, during a trip to Europe a few months later. Cologne is the origin for the perfume 7411. Well, that disgusting fragrance was nan's favourite. So in a tourist information centre seeing the advertisement and realising that I wouldn't be buying any for her, well that's when I processed her passing. It felt like a slap in the face.
On the Wednesday evening the teachers and I then attended the correborree. I can't say I really knew what was going on, but I'll do my best to describe the scenes to you. There was lots of singing, clapping sticks, didgeridoo playing and of course dancing. The men seemed to stamp and jump their way up to the hut, then to yell and run back to where they had come from. The women stood around this action swaying their arms in different forms depending on the dance. What I couldn't get over though, was these dances, this scene was not a sad scene. Children were running around and playing on the outer rims of the funeral grounds. Playing with balls and climbing all over eachother. A little girl who's pretty fond of me came running over and sat in my lap and then climbed all over me. I ended up tickling her. So here we were tickling, laughing, children running around and dogs fighting with eachother. In a way it seemed like a big BBQ with all your extended family. It was a joyous occassion, celebrating a short life.
Of course whilst sorry time was occurring the school was still open. Attendances were down understandably. Most children were up at the funeral grounds each night and needed a sleep. It was almost impossible doing work in the afternoons, the children were too tired! One boy in my class after lunch curled up into a ball and fell into a deep sleep. So deep that other students were running around, the vacuum was on and the last bell went and he was still snoozing. I had to shake him gently to wake him up, and he stretched looked around vacantly and wandered out of the classroom.
Regarding the one-on-one literacy program that we are here to implement, well it seems to be working well when the students come to school. The students I'm working with are gaining confidence and most importantly they are enjoying reading. Once they find out that reading isn't a chore and you can read some great stories in English, I think they will only just get better and better. For most students English is merely a third language to add to their linguistic repertoire.
On Thursday evening, the policeman Louie invited us to the station for pizza. He had returned from a weekend in Darwin to celebrate his son's birthday with probably the most important cargo to the island- junk food. Mmm I don't think I've ever appreciated a pizza more. It had been bought take away and then frozen for the plane trip.
On Friday evening, we were lucky enough to be taken shark fishing with Louie and the island's preachers Alan and Margo. We had a lovely campfire on the beach called Fletcher's Point, which as a side I found out today is known for its crocodiles. I then sat with my rod on a fold up chair (the luxury!) watching the sunset, the sky gradually turn pink and the stars coming out. With my little rod I caught two fish. They were beautiful fish, silver with gold lines down the body. They had a nasty mouth though, filled with sharp teeth. Now as everyone knows I don't eat any form of seafood. So I gave these two to Alan and Margo to say thanks for taking us out. By the time it had gotten dark and we could only see with the light of the moon we began to pull in the sharks. Louie was the first to pull in a 4ft black tipped reef shark. He then pulled in a 7ft wobbegong. It was huge and barely resembled the first shark. It looked slower and doopy. Louie then again pulled in a 3ft black tipped reef shark. The black tipped reef sharks are very vicious looking with their strong dorsal fin and sharp, sharp teeth. Louie was pulling in all these sharks using a hand reel by the way. So thinking that I could have a go, I got the hand reel out and promptly caught a baby shark. Barely 2ft the black tipped reef shark was a heavy bugger and I picked him up and released him (almost) all by myself. After about another 20mins I caught another 5ft black tipped reef shark. This one was so strong and had a good fight in him. I was being pulled down the beach and Louie had to grab hold of me at one stage! When we finally got him out of the drink Alan and Louie had difficulties getting the hook out, cause he was so determined to bite one of their hands off! I should mention that we put all the sharks back. We only kept my two little (in comparison) fish.
Yesterday was another hectic day. After a morning session of yoga, I went a visiting to the preachers. Margo unfortunately was burnt on Friday night, when the billy of boiling water for our tea was tipped on her leg. I wanted to check out how she was going and then also help with the making of Rosella Jam. You know the 'Wild Hibiscus' mixture sold at Australia Post or the Bottle-O? It's used to flavour gross, cheap champagne and costs $10 for a little jar? Well the actual flower is called a Rosella and is native to the top end. The flower has many uses including as a dye for pandanus weaving, as a spice and for making jam. The seed of the flower naturally contains pectin, the setting agent for jam. Jam-making with Margo turned into having a chat, lunch and then Louie coming over with Chinese chicken and corn soup. What a delicious meal and an absolutely lovely time! But the day's visiting adventures weren't over then. On student had seen me on Friday getting ready to go fishing and dropped over to see what we had caught. She and her friends then stayed and we ended up watching Bend It Like Beckham and eating Tiny Teddies.
They then invited me to the funeral correborree where they taught me to dance. Last night was the Elcho Island community's turn to pay respect to the young boy. The dances were more vibrant than what I had seen on Wednesday. The men were mock fighting eachother with red clothes. They also moved the red flag and the women had a more integral part in the dancing. Again there was a great feeling of joy, with children running around playing soccer!
This morning was the regular Sunday morning bike ride. I rode the 'Great Ocean Road' with the teachers. The Great Ocean Road goes from the west side of the island all the way to the south. We then had breakfast under the shade of pandanus. Looking at the vegetation though, it won't be long until the burning of the island begins. The grass doesn't stay green for long after the wet season ends. It dries out and turns brown. The community began burning the north, uninhabited part of the island on Friday.
That brings me up to the present, but before finishing, some great news! Aaron is coming to Warruwi for a visit! I leave here on Tuesday 21st June, so Aaron is coming over on Friday 17th June. That's the athletics carnival. He'll help out with that and then stay for the weekend. I'll show him around the island and then he'll work at the school on the Monday, before we depart together on the Tuesday. I'm so keen! We'll then go travelling in our van all throughout the Top End.
Till next week
xx
PS Croc watch: Still no crocs. Though from experience I am now assured that there are definitely lots of sharks in the surrounding seas...
The week began on a sad note. A young boy passed away during the wet season and the community is now having a funeral or 'sorry time' for him. As he was a student at Warruwi School, the entire school community has been involved in the funeral traditions. At precisely 1.45pm on Tuesday afternoon all students at the school were piled into the troopie and other Council 4WDs to meet the plane carrying the coffin at the airstrip. To ward off spirits of the dead everyone was painted with clay on any exposed skin, so my arms, legs and face was streaked with clay. The students and all the teachers sat in silence and waited the plane's arrival. Once it had touched down on the tarmac and started to taxi over to the bus stop that is Warruwi airport, the women began wailing and crying.
As the coffin was lifted out of the plane by men, the students formed two lines. The coffin was then carried down these two lines and placed in the back of the troopie. The men then gathered to the front of the troopie and began singing, dancing and playing the didgeridoo and clapping sticks. A large red flag was placed on the front of the troopie, which was then held by an elder. The red flag symbolised the boy's country. Students then surrounded the car, with most clustering around trying to touch the car's body. We began a sad and relatively silent funeral procession to the funeral grounds.
We walked through the community with the men playing music, singing and dancing and the troopie blasting it's horn every so often to tell others in the community that the boy had arrived.
Once we reached the funeral grounds again the students formed two lines. The coffin was then lifted out of the troopie and carried to the pandanus and eucalyptus hut. This hut was built for the purpose of holding the coffin for the two week funeral or sorry time before the actual burial. The ground of the funeral grounds is actually sand brought from another part of the island. This sand assists in the dancing or correborres that occur every night during this funeral.
The wailing of the women only intensified as the coffin was brought to the grounds, with some older women flinging themselves onto the sand. This physical outpouring of grief you may have seen in films about indigenous culture or even in the movie Australia.
The students and teachers then were asked to sit to the side, as one of the fathers of the young boy made a speech in Mawing. Of course I don't understand Mawing, but he said in English afterwards, something to effect of thanking us for coming and showing respect to his family, country and son. He then came up to the teachers and I and shaked our hands individually and told us to come to the nightly correborrees. I can only imagine he said similar words in Mawing.
We then left the funeral grounds.
I can only say that the Western way of 'carrying on' when dealing with death can learn a lot by this tradition. I remember when my nan passed, which was on a Sunday, I took Monday off work. But by Tuesday I was back at it. On the Thursday was her funeral. This was such a quick time between life and death. There was no lingering or allowing families and friends to process the event that had occurred. It was like reading a real good book and then just slamming it shut. We're told in English lessons at school to analyse the story to really appreciate it's meaning and I feel like there was limited opportunity for this to occur in the case of my nan. This sorry time, that I have been a relatively uninformed witness to, to me, allows for the processing of death and most importantly a celebration of life and culture. I remember only truly processing my nan's passing in Cologne, during a trip to Europe a few months later. Cologne is the origin for the perfume 7411. Well, that disgusting fragrance was nan's favourite. So in a tourist information centre seeing the advertisement and realising that I wouldn't be buying any for her, well that's when I processed her passing. It felt like a slap in the face.
On the Wednesday evening the teachers and I then attended the correborree. I can't say I really knew what was going on, but I'll do my best to describe the scenes to you. There was lots of singing, clapping sticks, didgeridoo playing and of course dancing. The men seemed to stamp and jump their way up to the hut, then to yell and run back to where they had come from. The women stood around this action swaying their arms in different forms depending on the dance. What I couldn't get over though, was these dances, this scene was not a sad scene. Children were running around and playing on the outer rims of the funeral grounds. Playing with balls and climbing all over eachother. A little girl who's pretty fond of me came running over and sat in my lap and then climbed all over me. I ended up tickling her. So here we were tickling, laughing, children running around and dogs fighting with eachother. In a way it seemed like a big BBQ with all your extended family. It was a joyous occassion, celebrating a short life.
Of course whilst sorry time was occurring the school was still open. Attendances were down understandably. Most children were up at the funeral grounds each night and needed a sleep. It was almost impossible doing work in the afternoons, the children were too tired! One boy in my class after lunch curled up into a ball and fell into a deep sleep. So deep that other students were running around, the vacuum was on and the last bell went and he was still snoozing. I had to shake him gently to wake him up, and he stretched looked around vacantly and wandered out of the classroom.
Regarding the one-on-one literacy program that we are here to implement, well it seems to be working well when the students come to school. The students I'm working with are gaining confidence and most importantly they are enjoying reading. Once they find out that reading isn't a chore and you can read some great stories in English, I think they will only just get better and better. For most students English is merely a third language to add to their linguistic repertoire.
On Thursday evening, the policeman Louie invited us to the station for pizza. He had returned from a weekend in Darwin to celebrate his son's birthday with probably the most important cargo to the island- junk food. Mmm I don't think I've ever appreciated a pizza more. It had been bought take away and then frozen for the plane trip.
On Friday evening, we were lucky enough to be taken shark fishing with Louie and the island's preachers Alan and Margo. We had a lovely campfire on the beach called Fletcher's Point, which as a side I found out today is known for its crocodiles. I then sat with my rod on a fold up chair (the luxury!) watching the sunset, the sky gradually turn pink and the stars coming out. With my little rod I caught two fish. They were beautiful fish, silver with gold lines down the body. They had a nasty mouth though, filled with sharp teeth. Now as everyone knows I don't eat any form of seafood. So I gave these two to Alan and Margo to say thanks for taking us out. By the time it had gotten dark and we could only see with the light of the moon we began to pull in the sharks. Louie was the first to pull in a 4ft black tipped reef shark. He then pulled in a 7ft wobbegong. It was huge and barely resembled the first shark. It looked slower and doopy. Louie then again pulled in a 3ft black tipped reef shark. The black tipped reef sharks are very vicious looking with their strong dorsal fin and sharp, sharp teeth. Louie was pulling in all these sharks using a hand reel by the way. So thinking that I could have a go, I got the hand reel out and promptly caught a baby shark. Barely 2ft the black tipped reef shark was a heavy bugger and I picked him up and released him (almost) all by myself. After about another 20mins I caught another 5ft black tipped reef shark. This one was so strong and had a good fight in him. I was being pulled down the beach and Louie had to grab hold of me at one stage! When we finally got him out of the drink Alan and Louie had difficulties getting the hook out, cause he was so determined to bite one of their hands off! I should mention that we put all the sharks back. We only kept my two little (in comparison) fish.
Yesterday was another hectic day. After a morning session of yoga, I went a visiting to the preachers. Margo unfortunately was burnt on Friday night, when the billy of boiling water for our tea was tipped on her leg. I wanted to check out how she was going and then also help with the making of Rosella Jam. You know the 'Wild Hibiscus' mixture sold at Australia Post or the Bottle-O? It's used to flavour gross, cheap champagne and costs $10 for a little jar? Well the actual flower is called a Rosella and is native to the top end. The flower has many uses including as a dye for pandanus weaving, as a spice and for making jam. The seed of the flower naturally contains pectin, the setting agent for jam. Jam-making with Margo turned into having a chat, lunch and then Louie coming over with Chinese chicken and corn soup. What a delicious meal and an absolutely lovely time! But the day's visiting adventures weren't over then. On student had seen me on Friday getting ready to go fishing and dropped over to see what we had caught. She and her friends then stayed and we ended up watching Bend It Like Beckham and eating Tiny Teddies.
They then invited me to the funeral correborree where they taught me to dance. Last night was the Elcho Island community's turn to pay respect to the young boy. The dances were more vibrant than what I had seen on Wednesday. The men were mock fighting eachother with red clothes. They also moved the red flag and the women had a more integral part in the dancing. Again there was a great feeling of joy, with children running around playing soccer!
This morning was the regular Sunday morning bike ride. I rode the 'Great Ocean Road' with the teachers. The Great Ocean Road goes from the west side of the island all the way to the south. We then had breakfast under the shade of pandanus. Looking at the vegetation though, it won't be long until the burning of the island begins. The grass doesn't stay green for long after the wet season ends. It dries out and turns brown. The community began burning the north, uninhabited part of the island on Friday.
That brings me up to the present, but before finishing, some great news! Aaron is coming to Warruwi for a visit! I leave here on Tuesday 21st June, so Aaron is coming over on Friday 17th June. That's the athletics carnival. He'll help out with that and then stay for the weekend. I'll show him around the island and then he'll work at the school on the Monday, before we depart together on the Tuesday. I'm so keen! We'll then go travelling in our van all throughout the Top End.
Till next week
xx
PS Croc watch: Still no crocs. Though from experience I am now assured that there are definitely lots of sharks in the surrounding seas...
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Week Three
This week again was both amazing and hectic.
On Monday in the NT and apparently QLD we had another public holiday. It was called May Day and apparently was a celebration of the beginning of May. I don't know why. But my celebrating translated into watching a movie, doing a graduate position application and then having a lovely ride. I tell you what though, this week, when I have to work a full week for the first time in 3 weeks is simply going to kill me. I bet the kids will be exhuasted too!
With the kitchen duties completely handed over to Cara, we were now free to concentrate solely on our tutoring responsibilities. The three students who I am working with intensively are amazing and already the one-on-one assistance, I believe is improving their literacy skills. This week the sound of the week was '-at'. So we mindmapped our '-at' words, then we drew a picture with three '-at' words together (there were many fat cats wearing a hat) and we even played '-at' snap. Now I understand how creative and innovative you have to be if you are a teacher. Trying to make 'cat,' 'fat', 'hat,' and 'mat' fun for 4 lessons is difficult! I truly think it is only now appreciate the role of a teacher.
One of my students was so fabulous he was even given star of the week at assembly on Friday. I was super proud of him!
Before school we also now help organise the before-school sport. Our first task on Tuesday was organising the AFL. Dammit, I don't know anything about Aussie Rules. So I managed to turn the game into something so much worth organising- touch football. Sweet! And I even joined in and scored a try!! Wednesday was easier as I organised the netball and on Friday I helped with long jump.
After school I continued with the 5.30pm sporting regime. Tuesday the teachers and I went for a walk around the community to the airstrip. We encountered a group of brumbies but the stallion was going crazy, charging up and down the road. Useful survival skill 1: If a horse is charging at you, don't try to out-run it, you're a human and ridiculously slow, instead run behind a tree. Even a weak, shitty looking tree, it doesn't matter. Horses will not run into a tree. They are not stupid animals. Once it has calmed down you slowly walk away. So that's exactly what we did. Turns out though, the stallion was cross at a couple of his fillies as they had strayed away from the rest of the herd. So he truly wasn't bothered by us. Instead though of a horse charging injury though, I got some wicked blisters on my heels which haven't even healed up today!
Wednesday is zumba night. So 5.30pm we gather for zumba in a classroom. That would all be ok, but as there isn't a park or a playground anywhere else on the island but school, the students were hanging around. They kept trying to peak through the windows, they climbed up the building, they even knocked politely on the door, to get a glimpse of our uncoordinated hip rotating. Trust me, it's very uncoordinated. And to make matters worse, on Thursday the little scamps said 'I saw you trying to dance yesterday.' Ouch!
While I'm digressing on the topic of 'the stuff kids say' here are a couple of beauties:
Girl: Why are your hands pink?
Me: Cause I'm hot
Girl: You white fellas turn pink when you get hot
Me: Yep. You fellas are tougher than us.
Girl: You also turn pink when you cry
Boy: What's that?
Me: That's my tummy
Boy: You have a baby inside?
Me: No, that's just my tummy
Boy: You just fat then?
Girl: You have big legs. Why do you have big legs?
Me: My mum gave them to me.
Girl: Why did she do that?
Thursday we had a bike ride out to and a swim at Bottle Rock. It was beautiful! And on Friday we had a game of badminton, which was most relaxing!
Jen and I are keeping a hectic social life. On Wednesday night we had dinner at a teacher's house and watched Spicks and Specks and last night had a lovely 'bring-a-plate' dinner with all the teachers. We then sat around a campfire with these beautiful old trees leaning in over us. We had no lights on, and the stars just glowed brilliantly. Just as we were leaving the house, a shooting star lit up the sky. It went right near the Southern Cross as well. I've never seen a shooting star and it is an experience that I will remember forever.
This morning, I had a lovely bike ride again with the teachers out to Bottle Rock where we ate breakfast and had a swim in the spa. Well, that's what I'll describe it as, but really its a rockpool that's been worn away but the tides to make it the size of a spa. It's the only place you can swim on the island, as you can see what's in the water. If there was a croc, though I doubt it would fit, you would at least every definitely see it!
We have unfortunately had a small incident. On Wednesday morning, an adolescent boy woke us up at 6.30am basically asking if Jen and I would have sex with him. Obviously the answer was no, and although we were safe inside our accommodation, it did make us feel vulnerable. The police, cultural teacher and principal were all notified and all were sorry that it happened. The perpetrator was found, it is a small community after all, and although he hasn't committed a legal offence he was still spoken to by the police. This should be the end of the saga and we haven't heard a peep from him since. It was just an awkward situation.
Well that's the summary for the week. I'm having a busy and fun time up here and I love the work that I'm doing.
Croc watch: No crocs yet again. Dammit.
On Monday in the NT and apparently QLD we had another public holiday. It was called May Day and apparently was a celebration of the beginning of May. I don't know why. But my celebrating translated into watching a movie, doing a graduate position application and then having a lovely ride. I tell you what though, this week, when I have to work a full week for the first time in 3 weeks is simply going to kill me. I bet the kids will be exhuasted too!
With the kitchen duties completely handed over to Cara, we were now free to concentrate solely on our tutoring responsibilities. The three students who I am working with intensively are amazing and already the one-on-one assistance, I believe is improving their literacy skills. This week the sound of the week was '-at'. So we mindmapped our '-at' words, then we drew a picture with three '-at' words together (there were many fat cats wearing a hat) and we even played '-at' snap. Now I understand how creative and innovative you have to be if you are a teacher. Trying to make 'cat,' 'fat', 'hat,' and 'mat' fun for 4 lessons is difficult! I truly think it is only now appreciate the role of a teacher.
One of my students was so fabulous he was even given star of the week at assembly on Friday. I was super proud of him!
Before school we also now help organise the before-school sport. Our first task on Tuesday was organising the AFL. Dammit, I don't know anything about Aussie Rules. So I managed to turn the game into something so much worth organising- touch football. Sweet! And I even joined in and scored a try!! Wednesday was easier as I organised the netball and on Friday I helped with long jump.
After school I continued with the 5.30pm sporting regime. Tuesday the teachers and I went for a walk around the community to the airstrip. We encountered a group of brumbies but the stallion was going crazy, charging up and down the road. Useful survival skill 1: If a horse is charging at you, don't try to out-run it, you're a human and ridiculously slow, instead run behind a tree. Even a weak, shitty looking tree, it doesn't matter. Horses will not run into a tree. They are not stupid animals. Once it has calmed down you slowly walk away. So that's exactly what we did. Turns out though, the stallion was cross at a couple of his fillies as they had strayed away from the rest of the herd. So he truly wasn't bothered by us. Instead though of a horse charging injury though, I got some wicked blisters on my heels which haven't even healed up today!
Wednesday is zumba night. So 5.30pm we gather for zumba in a classroom. That would all be ok, but as there isn't a park or a playground anywhere else on the island but school, the students were hanging around. They kept trying to peak through the windows, they climbed up the building, they even knocked politely on the door, to get a glimpse of our uncoordinated hip rotating. Trust me, it's very uncoordinated. And to make matters worse, on Thursday the little scamps said 'I saw you trying to dance yesterday.' Ouch!
While I'm digressing on the topic of 'the stuff kids say' here are a couple of beauties:
Girl: Why are your hands pink?
Me: Cause I'm hot
Girl: You white fellas turn pink when you get hot
Me: Yep. You fellas are tougher than us.
Girl: You also turn pink when you cry
Boy: What's that?
Me: That's my tummy
Boy: You have a baby inside?
Me: No, that's just my tummy
Boy: You just fat then?
Girl: You have big legs. Why do you have big legs?
Me: My mum gave them to me.
Girl: Why did she do that?
Thursday we had a bike ride out to and a swim at Bottle Rock. It was beautiful! And on Friday we had a game of badminton, which was most relaxing!
Jen and I are keeping a hectic social life. On Wednesday night we had dinner at a teacher's house and watched Spicks and Specks and last night had a lovely 'bring-a-plate' dinner with all the teachers. We then sat around a campfire with these beautiful old trees leaning in over us. We had no lights on, and the stars just glowed brilliantly. Just as we were leaving the house, a shooting star lit up the sky. It went right near the Southern Cross as well. I've never seen a shooting star and it is an experience that I will remember forever.
This morning, I had a lovely bike ride again with the teachers out to Bottle Rock where we ate breakfast and had a swim in the spa. Well, that's what I'll describe it as, but really its a rockpool that's been worn away but the tides to make it the size of a spa. It's the only place you can swim on the island, as you can see what's in the water. If there was a croc, though I doubt it would fit, you would at least every definitely see it!
We have unfortunately had a small incident. On Wednesday morning, an adolescent boy woke us up at 6.30am basically asking if Jen and I would have sex with him. Obviously the answer was no, and although we were safe inside our accommodation, it did make us feel vulnerable. The police, cultural teacher and principal were all notified and all were sorry that it happened. The perpetrator was found, it is a small community after all, and although he hasn't committed a legal offence he was still spoken to by the police. This should be the end of the saga and we haven't heard a peep from him since. It was just an awkward situation.
Well that's the summary for the week. I'm having a busy and fun time up here and I love the work that I'm doing.
Croc watch: No crocs yet again. Dammit.
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