Читать книгу The First Boomerang - Paul Bryden - Страница 12

A couple of days later the two men are many kilometres west of Alice Springs in the Elder’s traditional country, crouching in the shade of a hardy mulga tree. Rob had rented a 4WD Toyota Landcruiser to travel to Western Aranda country whenever the Elder wanted to go. The vehicle was about five years old, white in colour, diesel-fuelled and a reliable workhorse. Similar vehicles are used all over the Northern Territory and Rob had negotiated a good deal with Outback Oz Rent-a-Car. He and the Elder had not yet driven on any dirt roads but they were sure to in the near future.

The Elder began to speak in his sincere and positive manner, as if there had been no interruption in their previous conversation.

“Returning to country was destiny. You came to join a Rock Art group but universal energy flows around us and within us and things happen that match where we’re up to spiritually. A sign comes and the next step’s possible. We don’t always see signs, but you’ve wanted more knowledge since holding those tjurunga in England. I’m an instrument of the Universe and Ancestor Spirits to help guide your path.”

Rob was comfortably tuning into the Elder’s spiritual wavelength.

“Yeah, I wanted to find an elder with traditional knowledge, a senior man in tune with the big planetary picture. That’s been my consistent, positive vision, so I’m not surprised we’ve met. Cosmic Timing’s a fundamental part of the Universe and we’re all affected by it, but it’s challenging to be aware of every day.”

The Elder nodded in agreement then changed the conversation’s direction.

“If you talk about tjurunga and old knowledge people will react. Anthropologists, Museum academics, Aboriginal leaders, and even some of my mob will criticize you. They’ll say you misrepresent culture and offend Aboriginal people. You’ll be attacked for interfering with sacred objects, and be accused of trying to make a name for yourself.”

Rob nodded knowingly because he had anticipated negative reactions, even though his motives had integrity.

“It’s a sensitive subject, that’s why I didn’t tell anyone. I had to meet the right man and discuss tjurunga so I’d know how much I could say. By clear intention I’ve helped bring you into the picture to gain traditional and universal knowledge. That’s how the Universe flows. We co-create the worlds we live in, and the people we meet. And you knew I was coming?”

“Yes Rob. You’re here to discover and share knowledge, but,” the Elder emphasised, “it won’t be about tjurunga.”

* * *

They noticed the tree’s shade move silently toward other colonies of insects and small animals hidden nearby in the spinifex clumps and other native grasses.

As they stood to move, the Elder spoke.

“My mob had a lot of totems, and the mulga tree was a totem that belonged to certain people who were accountable for it. It represented personal strengths and weaknesses, was connected to the Ancestors and was important in daily life. The seeds were roasted then ground into paste for damper or ‘johnny cakes’, and it was high energy tucker. It’s about the best wood for making women’s digging sticks and men’s hunting boomerangs because it’s very strong, dense and good to work.”

This mention of trees reminded Rob of special times he had experienced years earlier, so he added with a smiling voice.

“Up in Broome I met Bill and Jacky, two highly respected elders. I visited them every day and we yarned about life and artwork, just like brothers who’d found each other after a long, long time. One day I went with Bill into the backyard and we walked under a tree. Suddenly he said: “That tree ... he’s my father.” I didn’t know what he meant, but since then I’ve thought the tree was possibly his totem, and he respected it like a ‘father’ or Ancestor. Or maybe it was an example of the Oneness of all things, as a spiritual message for me.”

The Elder took in what Rob said quietly and knowingly, then began to explain.

“Those old fellas were my brothers. Before Europeans came the north-west mobs sent pearl shell pendants on a trade route, passing them from clan to clan over huge distances. We called them Lonka Lonka and they had engraved designs in-filled with red ochre. But they were hard to get and we used them in rain-making ceremonies. We also ‘talked’ with the coastal mobs on other wavelengths. This big land wasn’t as big when we ‘spoke’ with thoughts!”

Rob wanted to comment on this incredible last statement, but the Elder continued without a break.

“It’s a good day to talk about legends, out here where you walked in another lifetime. A lot of my mob and thousands more around this continent lost personal connection with the Ancestors because of whitefellas. There’s plenty written about that, but white people suffered too. They still are, but they don’t realise it.”

Rob was moved deeply and wanted to comment, but the Elder’s insights kept coming.

“That’s also why you returned to country: to help non-Aboriginals connect to stories. That’s what they’re missing. Wait till they hear that Caterpillar Ancestors made the MacDonnell Ranges. Find out that our old people have campfires in the Milky Way. Discover that Uluru has a big boomerang story,” enthused the Elder, finally pausing to give Rob a chance to speak.

“They’ll love the Dreamtime characters coming to life. Be amazed that land, sea and sky have other dimensions. Realise the Cosmos is more than darkness and diamonds. Wonder how the old people could see so far with the naked eye. We’ve got books and the internet now, but traditional clans didn’t have telescopes. Yet the details are so realistic. Your worlds are richer and more multi-layered than the ‘same’ ones I see through Western eyes.”

The sun had moved slightly again and without speaking they got up and walked towards the shade of another mulga tree nearby, while drinking fresh water from their thick plastic bottles. It wasn’t hot, they were just being careful because of ultra-violet (UV) radiation. The rhythm of the conversation moved to the Elder, one of the last speakers of old Aranda.

“Some of our knowledge puzzles anthropologists. How did my elders know certain stars existed? Some Aboriginal paintings show facts about the Cosmos that Europeans didn’t know until telescopes were invented! Academics scratch their heads too, but we keep some knowledge to ourselves and don’t share everything.”

The Elder concluded his explanation, and although both men were comfortable amongst the spirits of the trees, they stood up, stretched, walked to the vehicle and drove back to sunny, late afternoon Alice Springs.

* * *

The Rock Art group had left town and most members understood Rob’s predicament. Having flown from New York City to join them and explore Outback sites, he met the Elder during his first morning in town. Although he knew he must grab the opportunity to spend time with the Elder, it was difficult to explain this to Hugo Ableford who invited him. Rob had travelled overseas, had been yearning to return to the Outback, and the Rock Art expedition provided the perfect solution.

However, because of what he regarded as Cosmic Timing he could not go with the group. He sensed he would learn a lot with the Elder’s guidance, and knew he had mentally co-created this outcome. His long-held vision was to meet an Aboriginal elder and begin a journey, and suddenly it had happened.

While discussing the disappointing change of plan, Hugo showed Rob the expedition’s itinerary and suggested they could meet up in Broome five days later. The enthusiastic leader knew Rob would be captivated by the Rock Art sites, the vast, silent landscapes, and the seemingly reachable stars at night. For Rob, these possibilities were exciting to contemplate. There was no question about that. He made a photocopy of the itinerary, wrote contact details, and arranged to pay the expenses Hugo had incurred on his behalf. Then on a cold, clear morning at 6.30 he waved off the four-vehicle 4WD convoy as it headed north.

* * *

The Elder was born west of Alice Springs in about 1930 on a large cattle station which had been established without Aboriginal consent in the 1880s. His father was a white stockman and his mother a young Western Aranda woman, and even though the cattle station had been superimposed on traditional country, various rites and ceremonies continued.

Through dance and storytelling he was introduced to traditional ways and learned about his Dreamtime heritage. As a boy he was deeply connected spiritually to his mother’s father who was an invaluable source of stories and language, much of which the Elder retained throughout his life. This learning occurred despite the Hermannsburg Mission in the area which was established by German Lutherans in 1877. Originally called Finke River Mission, its missionaries and families endured countless hardships, but irreversibly affected the lives of Western Aranda and Luritja people. Some children from those clans, including Lindsay Williams attended the mission school.

The Elder’s young life was affected by the second World War which caused upheaval throughout the Northern Territory, particularly after the bombing of Darwin in 1942. Although a child, he and others moved to Adelaide, a move which changed his life.

He was raised from about the age of thirteen by a white foster family and went to High School. Having a good memory as a student assisted him in the white world because he passed his High School exams, initially working for a local council in Adelaide and later at the Department of Aboriginal Affairs in Canberra.

The valuable traditional knowledge gained by the Elder as a boy gave him a profound sense of personal identity, a feeling of self-confidence he drew upon whenever life’s challenges confronted him. Unfortunately this was far too often in twentieth century Australia because of anti-Aboriginal attitudes. But the journey of his younger and middle years had steeled him to negative criticism, specifically because he saw a wider world and recognised the spiritual Oneness of Humanity. He was able to forgive people for their ignorance and past deeds, even though his personal growth was hard won.

Now in his senior years the Elder celebrated life’s multi-dimensional nature, accessed spiritual levels and dimensions of time and space, and utilised the teachings of the world’s many faiths and cultures. To people who did not understand higher levels, and they were the majority, he was an ancient seer in a modern world. He knew things which they did not, so they called him wise and wanted to hear his wisdom. However, for now he was being guided by the Ancestors and the Universe to reintroduce Rob to country.

* * *

There was still much for the Elder to reveal so once again the two men left the dark, early morning streets of Alice Springs as resident pink and grey galahs woke each other with soft, muffled calls. They drove south for an hour and a half arriving at the wide and sandy Finke River (Lhere Pirnte) crossing as the sun began to rise. Rob slowed down and eased to the side of the road.

Ripples of cloud sat above the eastern horizon, highlighted by mauves and soft pinks as first sunlight soundlessly touched the landscape. The wide countryside was changing into day and the stillness of pre-dawn was disappearing.

After a few minutes of silent appreciation they calmly drove off, the Elder directing Rob to a dusty track beyond the bitumen. The 4WD rolled effortlessly over corrugations in the red dirt, a welcome consequence of Rob reducing air pressure in the tyres. They drove on until the Elder signalled to stop and Rob pulled off the track. Walking into the bush, their food and water bottles in small daypacks, they were well prepared to explore.

On this particular morning the men were heading towards a cave storehouse where tjurunga stones and boards had been kept for generations. Each traditional clan kept its sacred and secret objects in special places and severe punishment was inflicted if uninitiated clansmen went near them. Caves were often used because they afforded both security and dry shelter. They had gone about two kilometres when the Elder stopped and turned to Rob.

“No-one has walked here for decades, but the Ancestors are guiding me so we’ll reach the cave safely. You can’t go in because you’re not initiated into our Law. When we’re close I’ll show respect by announcing our approach and ask permission to go forward. I’ll speak in old Aranda.” Then he added with emphasis. “The old language was kept alive in initiation ceremonies and secret men’s business and came from the forefathers before the forefathers. A time before the Dreamtime, before the physical world we now walk and talk in.”

Rob inhaled suddenly, the Elder’s last two sentences figuratively grabbing him by the throat. What the Elder had expressed was incredible. It represented other times and dimensions of life unknown to science and history! But what was the full story? Would he hear more ‘other-worldly’ information?

The Elder asked Rob to wait as he walked forward, chanting in the old language and fulfilling his obligation, before moving out of sight. About twenty minutes later he returned, his body language passive, his face in pain.

“There’s nothing in the cave, all the tjurunga are gone...”

His voice faded as feelings of sadness and disappointment overtook him. Rob did not respond in words but communicated sincere support with his eyes when they met the Elder’s troubled stare.

“They probably went years ago, like all the others. This theft still hurts our culture deeply. But I think some of those tjurunga will return one day.”

The Elder’s remark was very surprising after finding the cave storehouse empty, but he placed his right hand over his heart.

“I’m confident that three tjurunga can be found. They belong to a Dreaming Track (Tywerrenge impatye) or Songline, but went missing decades ago! As a custodian it’s my job to find them. Once they’re back ‘home’ we’ll perform ceremonies on the Songline’s sacred sites. Dancing and chanting will energise people and country again.”

Rob could see in the Elder’s expressive eyes how much the return of the sacred objects meant to him.

“It’s so important isn’t it. Your connection to country’s so deep, and I understand why they have to be returned. People need to know you’re looking for them, so the word has to go out. What about a website, would that help? I’ll show you a few ideas when we get back to Alice.”

The Elder smiled gratefully as he barely took in what Rob said. His thoughts were taken up by the loss of so many sacred objects over the years and his fresh determination to bring three of them home.

* * *

They sat down on large, smooth rocks and opened their water bottles, as an image flashed into Rob’s mind, surprising him because it was sudden as well as strangely familiar. After a few moments he began to describe it out loud.

“Five Aboriginal men are walking, one behind the other, through identical country to this. They’re moving along at a good pace, it’s early morning and they look like men of importance. That’s it!” Rob exclaimed into the quietness. “I had the same vision on the plane flying out to Uluru, but what did I see? Was I one of the senior men walking towards the cave?”

The Elder heard every word, and apparently others between them. “That’s when you were here before. Your vision enabled you to re-enter the dimension of a previous life! That gift came back clearly and quickly in just a few days!”

What more could Rob say? He went quiet, but was agitated within, the sound of his breath almost audible over the slight breeze. He was processing this huge realisation mentally and emotionally, and was not ready to get up. With eyes closed and his mind replaying the vision, his breaths now balanced, he gently shook his head from side to side in awe. After a lengthy pause and another mouthful of water he was ready to keep going.

Rob was comfortable that the Elder always knew which way to go, but the peculiar thing was he definitely felt this walk was familiar. Did his feeling confirm he had walked here many years ago as a traditional man? The Elder said he had, and the indications were becoming stronger and stronger. For now he would allow his feelings and the Elder’s words to resonate within and keep walking the familiar track.

After half an hour they stopped for a drink, and Rob, who had internalised the incredible idea that he was a Western Aranda man in a previous life, had the urge to mention a favourite subject.

“I’ve collected a few legends about the Cosmos including one about Constellation Scorpius. It’s by Mountford and Roberts who introduced a lot of Aussies to Aboriginal legends. It’s fantastic how your culture tells stories about gigantic constellations. They’re vivid, spectacular journeys. Much more colourful than big bang theories about stars and planets. Here’s a taste,” Rob said, taking a folded piece of paper out of his shirt pocket.

The guilty boy initiate, his indiscreet lover and the elders who chased them into the sky, became stars in and near the Constellation. Hunting boomerangs thrown by angry elders formed part of its tail, and they’re still there in that starry scorpion rising above the eastern horizon on Winter nights.

“How’s that. What a fantastic way to bring the stars to life!”

“Yes, it’s beautiful. I know that story because it heralds the start of Winter. And it’s very entertaining, but the young law breakers had to be punished, so it’s a lesson for later generations,” the Elder added.

Rob looked into a brightening blue sky and marvelled at the setting moon, clearly defined just above distant purple hills. That night he expected to see the beauty of the Cosmos in all its splendour, lavishly decorated with precious gems.

The Elder caught Rob’s buoyant mood.

“Visitors come here and can’t believe how close the stars are. Imagine if they knew our stories, like you said earlier. The whole sky would come to life and they’d have a bigger idea of the Cosmos and the culture. They’d want to tell the world.”

Rob loved the Elder’s enthusiasm for his culture, and sensed his next words would relate to him.

“When the elder in Broome said to you... “that tree ... he’s my father” he spoke on many levels. He was song man and medicine man – high honours in traditional culture – and he knew life’s energies and dimensions. His reality is impossible to comprehend. Rare men like him were always consciously connected to the Spiritual Source.”

“That’s amazing,” Rob said, “He was a remarkable artist too. He’d sit and use lead pencils to sketch his stories into notebooks, then delicately paint them with watercolours. Bill was an encyclopedia of traditional knowledge and he’d chant all night with his boomerang clapsticks.”

“Yes Rob. I can see it,” the Elder added. “His knowledge is precious, but we’re losing those old law men, and that’s a loss for the whole nation.”

Rob wholeheartedly agreed and understood how privileged he was to be learning from the Elder. His appreciation reinforced how important it was to consciously live in the present. There was no time to waste. Western Aranda country was calling again.