The Daily Pinch

Moving to Australia pretty much changed my life. It's funny when things you dream of come true.

Just like the day I passed my final exam. Or the day I graduated. Crossed the street and had a cup of coffee. Just like any other day.

It hits you later on. And then you kind of forget what it felt like. Especially nice things, which sucks, because you remember the bad ones a long time.

Waking up every day to the song of parrots puts things in a different perspective. Days may be long, hard and too hot, and weekends may be busy, cloudy and too short. But I remind myself – not every day, but whenever I can – of where I am and what I do.

I saw this new series on the TV, and it made some feelings stir up inside me. This incredible awe and cluelessness, respect and admiration...

I walk on the same sand people walked on 50,000 years ago. I work with some of the last people to have walked out of the desert, I learn new ways – but the ways that have been present for tens of thousands of years.

Makes you think of your high school history lessons, doesn't it? It makes me remind (and keep reminding) myself of my new life...

Google it, watch it, share it.

Taboo

Indigenous communities in Australia are well known for thabul (better know as taboo), which basically means they're not supposed to use some words. The thing is that people don't really have an idea about what those words are.

I reckon the first things that pop into most people's mind is private parts, 'sex' and similar, but there's much more to it. Honestly, I had my concern about it when I first started doing a bit of a background research, and after I realised how much more lay behind it.

The interesting part starts with figuring out all the numerous situations occur, when you’re supposed to follow the rules or suffer the consequences.

• Avoid family relations – a man doesn’t have any relations whatsoever with his mother-in-law, which can prove to be very difficult when I’m supposed to pick them up in the same car; also sister and brother after he’s been initiated etc.
• Hunt totem animals/plants – a person gets a certain totem depending of his family background, place of conception or birth, where she/he lives etc.
• Avoid saying certain things out loud – usually closely regarded to initiation, but also widely used in men-only or women-only situations, e.g. men will discuss men stuff and women will simply scatter around, and vice versa.
• Women are not to play the didgeridoo – this is especially noticeable in social situations, which are regulated by the Dreaming Law; some ethnomusicologists believe the situation is changing, especially in the contemporary development; even though the taboo is supposed to refer to Aboriginal women only, Nicole Kidman was said to have broken that taboo by blowing into the didgeridoo on German television (and thus cast a shadow on that custom, making others think it was okay to do so), and was said to be barren due to that.
• Avoid naming the deceased – saying the deceased person’s name brings grief of the family and friends, and is thus replaced by a replacement word which is, amazingly enough, “replacement” (or, in some cases, this and this person's mother; someone's neighbour etc); the struggle starts when you’re dealing with names like Friday, Alice and Rose, and you’re trying to say you’re meeting your friend in Alice Spring on A Friday – what you’d say would quite literally be “I meeting replacement on replacement in replacement’, and you won’t be able to use the words rose, rosebush etc; it is thus a common practice to use more and more really exotic names (Binbeal, Dorak, Mearann, Pindan, Ungud, Gymea, Lournea, Apanie, Oranta etc)…

And on that note, I shall tell you a story about the name I’m being called.

Being that my name is rather unusual (and my surname even more), there's an incredibly slight chance that it might become taboo. Nevertheless, it's unfamiliar and hard to pronounce, so I figured I'd be baptised something else.

Even though I had already done a couple of surveys before, it was the big meeting we had up in the desert that was supposed to be the moment I actually get introduced to the community. Everyone was gathered around, the women, the elders and the initiated men, while kids ran around and made quite an admirable amount of mess.

One of the lawyers said she wanted to introduce me, but as soon as she said my name, we realised it's not going to be as easy. Because they rely on their family relations, they wanted to know more about my background – a bit about where I come from, what my history is and, finally, what my full name is.

I tried pronouncing it as slow and understandable as I could, but it didn't work, even with the help of a microphone. Our lawyer found it funny and used the chance to giggle at me and make me repeat it a couple of times. To make up for it, I had to make a round and show my face to everybody, after which a new topic was started. The community was, nonetheless, immensely intrigued by the whole thing and, even though we would meet each other more often in the future, they wanted to sort that out.

They told the lawyer they wanted to sort it out, so – based on my initials, which are MM – they would call me M&M. Everyone agreed, there was a bit of a murmur and that was it. I was in!

Being that I'm a bit of a newb out there, the nickname would work out just fine. After all, initials are often used as a way of referring to someone or calling after them. And it's not even the first time I got called that (previous trips resulted in some people calling me M&M), so it kind of made sense.

Until everyone else picked it up and my new name was spread around the office and stating that M&M – being I'm white and all that – is actually Eminem, after which I've been dubbed Slim, Double M, Marshall etc.

And something tells me it's not going to stop there...

First time in the bush

After spending my first couple of days at a survey out in the bush, I came to notice tiny but nevertheless highly noticeable similarities to what I experienced in India.

People looking away, almost uninterestedly; sitting on the ground all around the place, huddling together, separated in smaller groups or even on their own (showing respect to be given to the elders); mumbling under the breath and then just expelling what sounds like a magic spell out there, toward everyone; making jokes in local languages and giggling… It all just seems so familiar.

I didn’t really expect anything in particular, but I’ve had an image of what was coming up - unlike others, who are probably eagerly awaiting detailed feedback on how I did - which I understand, because it’s surely not easy to rely on someone you’ve just hired to do the job properly. Especially when it’s so sensitive.

Being that there’s also a fair amount of driving to be done (half of the way is flight, the other half or so driving a 4WD), I had my initiation and, boy, did I have one! I was driving with my co-worker and two of the elders into the sunset, the Sun shining into my face, bouncing off the hood and piercing me with its rays from a couple more directions. It’s a non-asphalted road, straddling the countryside in a straight line, and lined by low vegetation on the sides.

Nothing but that, an occasional rabbit, kangaroo or eagle, and the mighty Sun. The sunset was kick ass nevertheless, at least the bit that I managed to actually see.

All in all, there I was, sitting in the bush, sharing an orange and sipping tea with the elders (who filled me in on some basic vocabulary), the initiated men, right next to what is probably their most sacred site. I had the privilege and the chance to go to where even non-initiated Aborigines aren’t allowed to go.

Now, doesn’t that kick ass?!

Taking off from the Work House in Kalgoorlie

The Gwalia (meaning Wales in Welsh) mining site in Leonora, where H.C. Hoover (the later-to-be president of the US of A) was hired to work as a geologist

Right as I thought to myself how good we were doing, we got a sunflower-shaped blow up

Lunch

Hoover's house (now the whole complex is a museum)

Descriptions

One of the bedrooms (some people thought it was my new place when they saw the photo, hahaha)

The Gwalia mining site

Our Toyota in front of the Hoover House (built in 1898, I think)

List of the miners working at the site at the time

The site from the air (a photo of a photo)

The office house and she shadow of my nose and hat

Preparing the road

Bottles and old cars and stuff

Driving back

The scenery (and this is still quite lush and green, compared to the summer and what lies further inland)

Eucalyptus trees, which catch fire as easily as pine trees, which of course created huge problems and large fires

I saw a couple of kangaroos (and had to watch out not to hit one along the way, since they jump out), rabbits, hawks, owls, ravens and similar

Red sand

Washing the car before leaving for the airport

Google Earth image of the tracks we took - so cool!

More on Indigenous Australians

Dirty windows on my flight from Adelaide to Perth

Coming back from a conference/education/seminar/course in Adelaide, I was sitting on the plane and pondering upon things.

One of the very interesting things is that Qantas showed an Aborigine-themed film both on the way there and back. The first was The Sapphires, a group of four Aboriginal sisters who got discovered and sang for the troops in Vietnam during the WWII.

The other was Mabo, a film about the first precedent in the Australian law system, when a Torres Strait Islander got the native title over his land in the area. Even though it was a ten-year fight and he didn't live long enough to witness it, it was that day in 1992 that changed everything.

Note: There is a slight difference between the terms Indigenous and Aboriginal. People who lived in Australia before the discovery by the white man were divided into several groups. It is thus not the same nowadays. Both Aborigines and people who live in the Torres Strait Islands are Indigenous, but are considered separate groups. In the official paperwork there is a question regarding whether one consider oneself to be an Aboriginal person or a Torres Strait Islander.

Anyhow, listening about the history, the struggle and the law cases, and hearing personal stories and experiences from the elders (older, wiser and decision-making Aborigines), it got me thinking.

The whole story's incredibly close to what happened to the Indian (and later African) people in America. The harassment, the segregation, the misconduct, the loss of right, the shooting-off-the-property. It just made me realize how wrong things went.

I'm therefore very happy to see that at least something is changing these days, and that I'm part of the whole story, with as little as I know and with the even less I can offer. But there's a good feeling in each case won, in each agreement settled and each smile upon people's faces.

It just gives me an additional buff, verve and zest to sleeve up and hit it off!

Aboriginal languages

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Taken from http://www.creativespirits.info/aboriginalculture/language.