NYUNGAR JOURNAL

Vivienne Elanta

12021131

Introduction to

Nyungar Cultural Studies A1671

Lecturer: Marie Taylor

To Munjie

Nyungar Yorger from Pinjarra,

Who lives on in all of us.

Nyoongar Journal

Week 1

Marie welcomed us in Nyungar to the course. It sounded very welcoming and generous, even though I did not understand a word.

I come to this course quite ignorant of the Nyungar culture and language. That is why I am here and am keen to learn. I always felt shy talking to aboriginal people because I did not know what to say. There was also the enormous guilt and shame I carried in regard to the way aboriginal people here in Australia have been and still are being mistreated by Wadjalas. I feel so sorry for the suffering of the aboriginal peoples. It is so disgusting to think that we have a Prime Minister who cannot say SORRY on behalf of the nation and admit to the wrongdoings of past and present. I appreciated Marie asking us not to do the guilt trip.

This course gives me the opportunity to learn about this ancient culture and its language. I also hope to come home to this country in a deeper and more meaningful way. Being born on another continent and living in many parts of the world as I was growing up, has made me feel at home everywhere in a strange kind of way. Having lived in WA for the last 20 years has allowed me to get to know the south-west of WA a fair bit. This course I hope will help me to get to know this land from the perspective of the Nyungar people, if that is possible. Although I experience a deep belonging to earth, I still have not quite come home to this land and I think that the Nyungar Cultural Studies will help me to do so.

Week 2

Yesterday I bought the book “Walwalinj – The Hill that Cries” and read it straightaway. I was absolutely stunned, because when I first went up that hill many years ago I remember standing there and looking down onto the plain and found myself crying, but I did not know why. I had no idea back then that it was called the hill that cries. Now I know that deep in my bones I knew something - I responded to the hill and the land around it. I believe that everything is alive and has spirit (or soul). Walwalinj is alive. I would like to go back someday.

Today on the bus home I became aware of a duality of landscapes. The western thoughtform of technology and progress superimposed on this ancient land. As the bus was moving through the streets I could sense another landscape underneath the roads and houses. It made the current landscape look superficial and intrusive. The shape of the houses, the green lawns, fences and the straight roads just do not flow with the land. These structures seem rigid, imposing and totally unsustainable - a typical reflection of the modern technological, scientific, economic western mind. Even many hundred years ago western buildings had a spiritual quality to them, largely lacking today. If ever this civilisation collapsed (and it will) would the many millions of seeds of the tuart, banksia, jarrah and marri lying under all this city concrete still germinate?

I am struggling with the pronunciations of Nyungar words and find it hard to even read them. Michael assured me that it is very hard to learn a new language, having studied several himself.

Week 3

I am so amazed at the complexity of the Nyungar family structures. It would take me forever to learn the minute detail such as the 2nd eldest child being called a “mardidjit” or the youngest baby son referred to as “martwit”. I can see now how interesting it would be for linguists and anthropologist to study languages and cultures.

Week 4

Although I have been aware that many of our country towns and places are Nyungar place names, I only knew the meaning of a few of these names.

I just loved doing the assignment on place names, totally getting lost in the different wordlists, looking for words which sound similar to place names and making connections. It seems that the Nyungar language strongly expresses the interconnectedness of things. I found it interesting that the word pinjar = swamp, pinjah = tadpole, and pinjaring = bullfrog. The Pinjareb are “the people of the swamp”. This is an example of the interconnectedness and family of words within the language, which to me clearly expresses the interconnectedness of the daily life of the Nyoongar people, which was not separate from the environment. I strongly belief that language says something about the people who speak it.

It is interesting that in the English language the word “you” is written in lower case whereas “I” is written in capital. For me that says something about the importance of individualism and that I come first, then everyone else. It seems that in Nyoongar the “we – ness” is so much more important than the “I”.

Week 5

I found today’s lecture and tutorial very heavy going. My heart just sinks whenever I hear about the terrible treatment of aboriginal people. The 1905 Act was supposed to protect aboriginal people, but somehow I still don’t understand how. All that I can see is a systematic way of destroying a culture, assimilation and integration as a way to achieve that.

Seeing the film “Rabbitproof Fence” was such a heart-wrenching account of the stolen children who where sent to Moore River. I am kind of feeling stuck with all these heavy emotions. I think I need to vent my anger and express my deep sadness which are sitting right here in my gut. It is unthinkable that the custodians of this land were and are still treated like second class citizens. Australia might be a different place today, if the Wadjalas had treated the Aboriginal peoples with respect and even learned from them how to live with the land, rather than rape and plunder it. We would have no salinity and erosion problems of the magnitude we experience today. We would all speak Nyungar and English. The Nyungar would be proud and healthy peoples. The Wadjala spirituality would possibly lean more towards an earth -centred spirituality rather than a Christian religion. Who knows?

There is so much talk about needing to be tolerant towards aboriginal people. I cannot make friends with the word tolerance, because it means to “endure”, and I also understand it to mean to put up with someone or something. Rather than just tolerate each other, we could all benefit from ACCEPTING each other for our differences and CELEBRATING diversity. That is what enriches us.

Week 6

Len Collard’s session was great and I found his teaching style alive and interesting, though a bit confronting. One just could not hide behind the desk. He wanted everyone participating in speaking Nyungar and expected students to make themselves vulnerable and at least try. I was quite pleased that by now I knew a few words, one of them being Nyungar, which I thought meant “man”. When Len asked us what the word Nyungar meant I enthusiastically put my hand up and called out “man”. Wrong! I was told, it meant person, people. I was furious because several worldlists say it’s “man”. “Man” he said means maan or maarm. Over the last 6 weeks I did not know what was what really. One reference says one thing and another says something else. Len suggested to be more relaxed, see it as a challenge, and to have more of a curious approach. That was a great suggestion, for it helped me to be less serious and more light-hearted about learning the language.

I think the tricky thing is that the Nyungar language is an oral language, not a written one, and because there are very few fluent speakers around, its harder to get to learn it. Even the spelling of a word would be different from one writer to the next. Phoning many different places to see if I can buy tapes was totally fruitless. We live in Nyungar country, but one cannot buy tapes, but there is a limitless supply of language tapes in French, Italian or Spanish. I hope this will change.

One of the activities that Len gave us to do was making sentences, which I enjoyed a lot, such as “I am a grandmother soon” – nyung moyiran boortja. Because it’s the daughter of my koort, who was expecting a baby I was looking for the word step-daughter in the wordlists and found none. Len told us that there was no such word because all the children whether biological or not are your children. I like that!! So I made the sentence, “nyung nap boodjari” meaning, my daughter is pregnant.

I found the topic of “winje noonook nyin” very difficult. I simply answered ngany boodjar Victoria Park. This topic is difficult for me because being born in a city in a hospital and not growing up in that place makes me feel a stranger to it. I have more sense of place in other parts of the world. My mother did not even live in that city when she carried me. I feel sad that I grew up without an extended family, without my dem and moyiran. I can never know the pain the Stolen Generation experienced. I do know though what it feels like not to have extended family for I lost them all during the war before I was born.

Week 7

Wow!! The bushcraft session was absolutely fantastic. I enjoyed and appreciated Fred Collard’s knowledge of the ways and customs of his people. Also so enjoyed sitting in a circle on the ground with women and making my wanna. At first it was hard getting the bark off the stick, but quickly I found a way of stripping it off. The whole activity felt so earthing, so grounding. I jokingly said to the women that having a wanna now, has made me complete as a woman. There seems some truth in that somehow. I enjoyed prancing around with it after Marie tied the feathers to it.

I found the story of the crow and magpie, which Fred told us very interesting. It explains why the crows and magpies around my place are not getting along at all. I loved it so much to wake up to the mob of kulbardi singing for me. Now they do not sing anymore in my garden because the crows chased them away. I miss the magpies and wished they would return.

Woke up this morning from a dream in which Len Collard spoke in Nyungar to me. He told me a poem in Nyungar. They were actual Nyungar words he used. The deal was that if I could remember what he said when I woke up I could have the poem for my story for assignment 2. But guess what, I can’t remember a word he said.

This dream had such a very strong and powerful feel to it, so much so, that I had the overwhelming need to hop on the bus to get back to Kulbardi to pick up every bit of wood shaving from my wanna. I wondered wether it was still lying on the lawn where I sat yesterday. It seemed a bit crazy in one sense, rushing off to university at 7 o’clock in the morning, when I could potter in my garden talking to my kweyaar. It felt very appropriate to be crawling around on the lawn covered in dew, collecting every strand of bark. I just had to have them and bring them home for a special purpose to be used in the making of my journal.

This journal is not the journal I set out to write. Yesterday’s lessons with Fred, as well as my dream have set me on a new course of making this journal creative and artistic, enriching the written word.

I realised this morning that I had never really settled into this course until yesterday. Sitting on the ground and making my wanna was a good thing. It grounded the course for me. This was also the first time that we did work at Kulbardi, which is much more conducive to studying Nyungar culture than in a stuffy classroom. It also presented a great opportunity for us students to get to know each other better. I feel very grateful to Marie for having had the vision and the energy to create such a wonderful course in Nyungar Cultural Studies.

Week 8

Fred Collard has such an easy teaching style. I enjoyed him showing us how to build a mia mia, weaving together the materials to keep the rain out. It’s so simple and practical. What struck me was that the conical shape is so similar to the Native American tradition of building a tipi, except that a tipi has a central fire inside the structure and is covered with buffalo hide.

Next time there is a major storm, I want to bring home some blown down tree branches and make a strong mia mia in the garden here. I could use it as a place to rest and contemplate during hot summer days.

Week 9

My Nyungar vocabulary is slightly increasing. I find myself saying to people: “Kaya, Yaarn noonook?” When I first started the course I was so keen to learn it quickly, but now I know that learning Nyungar language is a long-term project.

One of the many things which I love about this course is the practical hands -–on component. The bushwalk was superb, trailing after Fred and Marie to eagerly take in all the interesting and useful knowledge about plants and animals for their use for food, shelter and medicine.

I have seen Bayn (pig face) along the coastal dunes. It reminds me of aloe vera in its fleshiness and use in soothing and healing sunburn. Gosh ! I have learned so much today. I learned that one could make rope for horses and boomerang from silver wattle to boiling flooded gum leaves to inhale for clearing up colds. I was aware that paperbark grows near water, but had no idea that by putting a hole into the trunk water will drip out. I would have never guessed that the black manna gum or black wattle is good for curing constipation or indigestion. I would like to have used the resin to paste together this journal, but its not the right time of the year Fred informs us.

Walking through the bush was so special. That’s what my granny would have done if she had been alive. Just like Fred and Marie she would have taken me through the forests and meadows in Germany, showing me the different plants, fungi, mushrooms, berries and herbs for human use. She knew them all. She would have taught me when to pick them, what part to pick and how to prepare them for food and medicine. It makes me sad to know that this knowledge is lost to me. It must have been devastating for Nyungar kids, who would have wanted to learn from their elders, but were forbidden and punished if they did. So much knowledge lost, so many elders not here anymore to teach song, story and dance. It is a terrible loss to the Nyungar people and a terrible loss the whole world. It is predicted that within the next 50 years 90% of all languages in the world will be lost. We are living in a very tattered world full of remnants. Remnants of cultures, remnants of languages, remnants of biodiversity, remnants……remnants…….remnants!!!!!!! When we loose a language we loose history and ancient knowledge of land. We loose culture , and we loose forever a part of human diversity.

I used to walk through the bush years ago in total ignorance, thinking how lovely the flowers were, until I did the “Bush Regeneration Course” with APACE in Freo. I learned to see and evaluate what percentages are still in good condition and what percentage is degraded and infested with introduced weeds. The flowers, which I used to think were lovely, I learned were the horrible watsonia and other plant pests. There are still a lot of healthy trees and plants in the Murdoch bushland, such as the beautiful paperbark, the black manna gum, egg and bacon, red gum, balga, string bush, silver wattle, pig face and flooded gum. It would be great to do a project to seed more of the native bush and weed out the pests. I would love to learn more about bush tucker and the uses of material for string and things like that and just hanging out with elders like Fred. He makes a great elder - lots of wisdom, knowledge and a quite manner.

The message for my message stick has become very clear to me over the last few weeks. In my mind’s eye I can see Wadjalas and Nyungars coming together in a circle around the fire -place for reconciliation, living in peace together in this land. I want to express that in the form of white and black footprints walking towards the centre - the fireplace. I want to also add the symbol for peace and the heart for love and the stars for the ancestors of this land watching over all of us.

During study break.

Its been an amazing week since the bushwalk. I just had to go back to that bushland and collect paperbark lying on the ground and gumnuts and leaves and flowers for pressing, which I will use in the making and decorating of the journal. It was great taking Bill along with me to take photos of this beautiful place. I tried to remember which way Fred took us and which plants he pointed to, so Bill could take a photo of each. I think we got most of them. He is such a great photographer and I appreciate his kindness.

I was somewhat concerned to see that someone is taking huge zamia palms out of the bushland. Shouldn’t they stay in the ground, so that Nyungar as well as science students can benefit? These palms must be several hundred years old and would cost $500- 800 each, if one was to buy them in a nursery.

Then on Wednesday went to the hills to spend a few hours with Mary, teaching me how to make hand made paper for the journal. What fun that was, selecting the flowers and petals to sprinkle into the pulp, stirring the brew and then dipping the frame into it, to haul a thick layer of the sloppy pulp onto the frame.

It was special to use the shavings from my wanna for rolling onto a couple of sheets of paper. It was great taking the wanna with me to Murdoch bushland, while searching for plants Fred taught us about. The photos will look great on this special paper.

Since a couple of weeks I observed one single black wardong (crow) in and around our garden. I immediately remembered what Sandy told us about a crow on its own bringing bad news, especially when it looks at you with intensity. I felt a little disturbed at first and then decided to push the fears away. I told myself that nothing bad would happen to me. I am not Nyungar I told myself, so therefore it does not apply. Doesn’t it? Well here is food for thought. It’s been a week now, when a rottweiler dog savagely attacked Spotty. That’s when I realise that the crow messenger had indeed something to convey. It was such a terrible experience to witness our little dog being almost shredded to death. Next time I see a crow by itself hanging around for days, what should I do? Be careful? Talk to the crow?

Week 10

At the moment all the frogs are out sunning and mating in every pond. My life seems to be infused by the presence of frogs. So when Marie spoke about her grandfathers totem being the frog I had such a lovely feeling. I just love frogs so much. I have known for a while that kweyaar, the frog is my totem. I found it quite powerful to dream about frogs and then find one little green one in the shower the following morning. I know that they bring me messages. Much of these messages in my dreams seem to do with transformation and change. I think the most single message they convey to all of us today, is to care for the environment. We need frogs. They are the most important link in the food chain and are vital to the health of ecosystems. Nyungar people knew all that.

When I talk about frogs I always seem to make a connection to snakes. It seems logical, because snakes feed off frogs. I love snakes, though I keep my respectful distance. One thing struck me quite strongly sometime ago, that to Christianity the snake is something evil, the tempter. In Nyungar spirituality the snake (Wagyl) is a life-giving force. It must have been very confusing for the Nyungar when the white man arrived with his bible. I love the story of how in the Dreamtime two rainbow serpents, called Wagyl created the rivers and the lakes here in WA, the female laying eggs along the way. One place where she laid eggs was at the foot of Kennedy Fountain. That place is special to me, because that is were Nyungar elders blessed us and send us off on the pilgrimage around Australia to stop Uranium mining. It is interesting that here we have a male and female Wagyl creating different parts of the waterways and coming together now and then. Other cultures in different parts of the world also have female and male aspects to the landscape.

We did not get to talk about men’s/women’s business really. At least I can’t remember us doing so. I think, that men’s and women’s business is a great thing. I still remember the time a group of us decided to split for a few days. The men staying behind and doing what ever men do, and us women (with the permission and blessing of an aboriginal woman elder in NSW), to sleep out at a women’s sacred site. I still recall to this day, that when we did rejoin the men a few days later, who cooked us a yummy meal, the energy between the two sexes was charged with more respect and caring and enjoyment of each other. And I recall that both parties knew that the secret business was never known by the opposite sex. I can imagine that both Nyungar men and women have different obligations in performing their ancient customs at the sacred sites.

Week 11

Reading “Echoes of the Past” is very heavy emotionally. I am feeling such deep sadness for the stolen generation and their families who suffered so much. I also feel rage at the injustices committed. Every story is so deeply touching. One gets to know these people very intimately. Their courage is enormous. Their capacities to endure so much pain are incomprehensible. It is hard to imagine having ones children taken away, never to see them again. If I were in Don and Sylvia Collard’s situation of having eight out of 14 children taken away I would go insane. Leafing through the book and looking at the photos makes me cry. It feels like there is a heavy hole inside me a mile deep. How must it be for the families?

The photo in the book of the room with several rows of cots gives me the shivers, because it reminds me of the time I spend in a children’s home when I was four years old. I don’t know to this day why the sisters there tied every kid’s hands and feet to the cot bars all night. Still today I don’t like sleeping on my back and hate being tied down in any way. The older I get the more the human race baffles me. Why can’t we live in peace with each other and be kind to one another?

I am grateful to all these brave people for sharing about their life in Sister Kate’s Home. It is important to hear the stories of how it was.

Week 12

I loved the Boorno Wongkie sharing circle. The art –works on some of the message sticks are just so beautiful. I was delighted that there was such a strong reconciliation theme present. For me the high point of the tutorial was when Sandra held up a poster with the words WAARNGKINY BODJA. I felt like a child in first grade, which just recognised and read its first two words. Gosh, was I thrilled. I could actually read the words and knew what they meant.

I enjoyed listening to Terry (Kudda ?). I agree with him that the land is the most important and that without such there would be no life for any of us. The Nyungar have known this for tens of thousands of years. David Suzuki echoes the same message. He said that indigenous peoples honour the four elements of air, water, fire and earth. He said in his talk that we are EARTH, we are AIR, we are WATER, and we are FIRE. I loved the way he backed it all up scientifically explaining that the human body is made largely of water etc. It’s strange how the western world needs scientific proof in order for something to have value or truth. There is always the element of the unexplainable, the spiritual and the sacred, which cannot always be scientifically explained.

Find myself roaming in second hand book- stores lately, in the hope of finding old books on Nyungar. Could not believe my luck when I found, “The Passing of the Aborigines”, by Daisy Bates. Now, how lucky can one get? The photos are amazing.

Week 13

What a privilege it was to meet Gerard Shaw. I just could not hold back the tears listening to his story. It’s so hard to find the words here. Beyond any words I can feel an enormous warmth and love welling up in me for the Nyungar people. I am so glad that they have survived such terrible atrocities to tell the stories. Thumbs up for his idea of rendering the WA government responsible for the kidnapping. I am sure there is a lawyer or barrister out there who would love to take up the challenge.

“Never deny your roots or you will never be a full person”. I know that these words are not just words coming out of Gerard’s mouth. These words come from a deep knowing, a personal experience of what it is like not to know ones roots. He emphasised the importance of “being welcomed, being owned”.

I don’t care how well meaning the Wadjalas were at the time , setting out to “rescue” so called half and quarter cast children into white society, it’s still a crime. I agree it’s kidnapping, soul rape , and genocide of a culture. And it is a most terrible cruelty and torture to the mothers who carried these children in their bellies for nine months.

The Nyungar spirit is alive and strong. I love the explanation of the word aboriginal – meaning belonging—to arise—becoming visible.

May the spirit of the Nyungar People of the South-West of WA grow from strength to strength and become visible.

Visit to the Museum

Finally I made it to the museum this morning to look at the display on Nyungar culture and history. As I stepped out of the elevator my eye caught two words on a poster, KATTA DJINOONG – to see and understand us. It reminds me of Gerard’s words of “becoming visible”. The truth of past treatment of aboriginal people is very visible at the museum. I felt very teary and overwhelmed from reading and looking at photos of the near genocide of a unique, precious and ancient people. The removal of aboriginal children was not legal, but little was done to stop it. I do not like the word removal. It sounds like furniture being removed. I tend to go for the word Marie used, namely KIDNAPPING, because I think that it was, no less than that. Kidnapping is a serious criminal offence. Apparently 100 thousand children were kidnapped. I agree that if we are to have true reconciliation we must understand how it was for aboriginal people and we need to name it for what is was. The 1905 Act was meant to systematically extinguish an entire culture and connection with land, which is a strong part of their being.

Being torn away from their families would have a devastating affect of a magnitude too hard to comprehend. First of all the children would have grown up without developing positive parenting skills, which would have led to a second generation being kidnapped. Known as “associated family dysfunction” can lead to vicious cycles of substance abuse, involvement in crime, domestic violence, possibly leading to further institutionalisation and imprisonment. It is precisely this kind of substance abuse like alcohol and glue sniffing and violence that is so prevalent among many indigenous communities in many parts of the world today. What they all have in common is dispossession of their land, disruption and loss of culture and language and “second-class” citizenship, many living in the poorest conditions.

I belief that physical, emotional and mental health is maintained through being part of a close loving family and community and a strong spiritual connection to land. When these bonds are broken, dysfunction and illness befall the human species, irrespective of race.

I was horrified to learn that between 1830-1895 Nyungar suffered 40 epidemics, leading to 75% drop in population. According to the museum’s information 89% of WA’s population lives in what was once Nyungar country. The extent of this dispossession from traditional lands is unparalleled elsewhere in the state.

To the Nyungar living with the land means managing and nurturing the land and its resources. Successful hunting and gathering requires intimate knowledge of the habitats of any given area. Without this knowledge people would die.

I was delighted to find some wisdom on a poster on the museum walls by Fred.

“What land means to Aboriginal people is,

it’s their mother. They get everything they want of it,

so they look after everything on the land, because it

supplies you with all your needs and that’s why they’re

in touch with the land – and spiritual-wise as well.”

Fred Collard, Nyungar Elder, 1996.

For the Nyungar the law comes from the dreaming, or creation stories as Sandra would prefer to say. “The law is a set of rules for behavior. Elders maintain the law and ensure that it is passed on. Lore also comes from the dreaming. These are the stories that contain the law.”(museum poster)

Wadjala law certainly does not come from any dreaming. Wadjala law does not look after the land or after the people. I may be cynical but I think that it primarily serves vested interests.

After 2 hours of reading about and looking at pictures on the walls depicting the terrible crimes committed over the last 200 years towards the traditonal owners of this land I felt quite ill in my stomach pit. I just had to get out and take in some fresh air.

But before leaving I found myself in a conversation with the security guard, who’s job it was to guard the displays. He told me that he really was not interested in any of this stuff, pointing to the pictures on the wall. I was dismayed but decided to keep my composure. Instead I ask him wether he knew anything about the stolen generations? He proceeded to tell me that he lived just around the corner from Sister Kate’s Home in the 1950’s as he was growing up. He remembered it all well, that is, looking through the fence and seeing the children playing happily. He insisted that they were happy and that being taken away from their parents did not harm them. They were happy!!

Somewhere in the middle of all this conversation he began to talk about his own abusive childhood. The family violence was so bad that he hated coming home. He said that he had to develop ways of coping as a child, pretend it did not happen, cover it up. I ask him wether it could be possible that the stolen children had to find ways of coping as well , just like he did? Wow!! I could see an “Aha” look on his face, and he had no choice but to agree with me. Maybe today he is studying the display. The world is so full ignorance and assumptions. May I be cured of my own……… and may there be healing in the world.

Weekend at Bogin Boya

So enjoyed the bus trip out to Bogin Boya. We travelled through Gosnells, Roleystone direction Brookton / Beverley.

Fred started to tell us about country as we travelled. He showed us how to look at the land, how to read the land (nginniny boodja), pointing out Malak Boodja (thick country), filled with Red Gum trees, paper bark tree (milli milli boorn) and banksias. Somewhere nestled in there also was Yonga valley were one would find lots of kangaroos.

We entered Mudjar Boodja, Christmas Tree Country. Mudjar is a parasitic tree, living on the roots of other trees. Slightly off the road to the left was Christmas Tree Well. The place has only been called that 40 years ago. Fred said it should be called Dongal Kep. I

found it very interesting to learn about Charlie Dongal who slept in a huge tree hollow lying on the ground. He lived there for 40 years and mainly lived on bushtucker.

I soaked up every bit of Fred’s knowledge about the land, which he so generously shared with us, ranging from possums, widgedee grubs in silverwattles to Sheok country, Wando and Spotted Gum. It was truly a lesson in Malak Boodja.

The bus was so well air-conditioned, so when I stepped out of the bus, I felt like shrivelling with the heat. And the flies………… I had this romantic idea of making a mia mia, but on second thoughts I was glad to have brought the tent with me, which proved to be a wise choice given the mosquitoes descending on us by sunset.

Had a great afternoon learning from Anton and Jack how to crush ochre and mixing it with red gum resin for tonight’s korroborri. Anton also showed me how to peel back a section of one side of a young gum leave, which gets placed on the tongue to make bird sounds.

The Kulbardi Boorndoon dance group was fantastic - first class entertainment and fine quality dancing and didge playing. I enjoyed watching the dancers giving the kids an opportunity to practice dancing. Somehow I did not get to hang out with the kids or help with the food preparations. I was flat out learning about the place. What an amazing place it is. It has a very strong presence of the ancestors of that place.

I distinctly noticed how the adults were with the children. Very loving and firm, using stories to keep them in line and to keep them out of danger, a bit like a fence around them. One of the stories told was about the little hairy people, “the Wardarchi” (Mumara). These hairy men catch those kids who don’t go home before dark. Fred compared them to the Irish leprechaun. One description likens them to banksia cones, and looking frightening and only come out at night. Maybe that’s were May Gibbs gets her idea of the ‘bad banksia men” from. I have never seen one, but don’t doubt their existence, because Lana saw one when she was only 2 years old. I did not know about such things way back then. She was very frightened, when she pointed to one, describing it as a little man. I believed her.

Sunday morning was another highlight for me, when Fred and Neville took us to a cave on Bogin Boya. The painting of the “Old Man”, the keeper of the rock, was so awesome. That was such a special moment for me - Nyungar and Wadjala sitting together in that cave in the presence of good spirits. Anton playing the didge pointed into a crack was so haunting, so breath taking. I could have stayed there for a long time, and I think that’s what would probably be needed in order to enter a state of timelessness. I very much understand that Boyagin Rock is sacred ancestral ground. “A place to contemplate, go back in time, dreamtime mythology”, Fred explained.

Then Neville led us up the smaller rock, and again like Fred he was reading country. He showed us where the echidna scratched for ants and where the kangaroo slept last night. I would not have known about lizard traps if he had not pointed them out. The Nyungar made them a long, long time ago for trapping lizards and snakes. We saw barking lizards (kaalaari) running across the rocks with great speed. Neville explained that quartz does not naturally occur in this place. It was brought in for making axes, knives etc. He pointed to what is known as scatter-sites, which are left-over quartz pieces strewn all over a small area. He even found a kodj. The scratches the echidna made on the ground and the quartz scatter sites reminds me of the story of how echidna got his quills. Further up the hill were lots of tea trees covered in beautiful little white flowers. Tea tree oil, being good for killing germs.

Walking close behind him I took in everything he said. I found myself the lucky recipient of all kinds of wonderful gifts from the trail up the rock. Neville picked a few nuts off a bush and strung them onto a grass reed, explaining that Nyungar men would make them for the women they were courting. I feel very honoured that Marie took us here, so I could witness the deep love the Nyungar, custodians of Bogin Boya have for this place. I am grateful for the knowledge and stories so generously shared with us.

Being invited to sharing time and space with Marie’s family gave me an opportunity to see for myself what Gerrard Shaw was talking about when he emphasised the importance of “being welcomed, being owned and knowing ones roots”. All that was so present amonst the Nyungar people on the weekend.

With this last entry the course has sadly come to an end, like all things must. I have made a few great friends and connections with Nyungar and Wadjala people. I am very grateful to Ross for introducing me to this course in the first place. I am grateful to so many wonderul people for sharing their knowledge of the Nyungar way -- Marie, Sandra, Fred, Neville, Gerrard, Len, Anton and the dance troupe. Then there is my koort John for loving me and showing me how to scan photos, and Tim for extra special tutoring, Mary showing me how to make my own paper and Bill for taking the photos at Murdoch bushland. And last but not least the land that teaches me all the time and sustains me with every breath.

Yes! I learned a lot about Nyungar culture and language. This course has been very growth promoting for me. I no longer have a need for a “coming home”, because I have come home. I know that THIS IS HOME.

At the beginning of the course I found the story of “THE HAND OF HUMANS”, a Dreaming story, which I enjoyed learning about. This story is so important to me, because we Wadjalas have largely forgotten our creation/dreaming stories, which has brought us almost to the brink of destruction. We don’t look after the land and the waters and the plants and animals. With our hands we can protect as well as destroy life. The story of “The Hand of Humans” help us to remember and guide us to look after things.

Now that I have been shown by Anton how to blow ochre on a surface, I want to close this journal with my handprint and the story. For me it’s a way to recommit my life to doing good and protecting and looking after the plants, animals, the land and the waters.

THE HAND OF HUMANS

In the Dreaming, plants, animals and people spoke with each other, formed partnerships, had fights. But there was no law, no teacher, no leaders. Chaos prevailed over the world.

From the heaven came the call for somebody to come out of the Dreaming to create law and order on earth.

At the gathering that followed, five Dreaming spirits attended:

Wagyl the snake, Karrda the racehorse goanna, Yonga the kangaroo, Weitch the eme, and Nyoongar the human.

After some discussion, Wagyl the snake said, “I’ve had enough of talk. I’m leaving. No-one will listen to me.” As he left, his movements pushed up the sand to form hills and valleys. Rain fell along the paths to become rivers, and tunnels and holes filled with water.

Karrda the racehorse goanna thought about the call to create law and order on earth, and said, “ I do not want such a duty.” He promptly left to wander the land.

Yonga the kangaroo also did not want the burden, and left immediately for the place we now call the Stirling Ranges. From the Stirling Ranges, all the kangaroo family spread out. An argument between an emu and a kangaroo resulted in the emu being killed. The burial place can be seen as Yongermeer Peak in the Stirling Ranges.

Next to speak was Weitch the emu. He said, “I will come out of the Dreaming, take on flesh form and give law and order. Look at my powerful legs. They can carry me everywhere and emu tracks can be seen all over the ground.”

Finally, Nyoongar the human stood up and said, “I can speak for everyone. Look at my hand! My wriggling thumb is the wagyl. With the next finger I can make the kangaroo tracks. With the next three fingers I can make goanna fore-prints. And my middle fingers represent the emu tracks.”

All the Dreaming spirits looked at each other. They all agreed that the human should become flesh, give law and order and responsible for everything.

The humans put their handprints onto the mountain caves and ledges for all to see. This symbolises how we have to care for all the plants and animals, and the land and waters.