Camping, part two

This is the second of three posts that I wrote while on our camping trip. Please make sure that you read all three. I will upload photos when I return to Sydney.

May 21
Uluru - Kata Tjuta National Park
Sunny, mild, clear

We have just finished watching the sunrise from a platform nearby Kata Tjuta, one of the other rock formations of interest in this neck of the woods. I hung back this time and let the others fight for their spot at the viewing rail. I've seen it before, after all. Most of the time, tourists look over at the sunrise taking place just to the left of Uluru in the distance.

I should explain a little about each of these several rock formations. Uluru is the Aboriginal name for Ayers Rock, the worlds largest monolith (single stone). It's the big orange rock you see in any commercial about Australia, a genuine icon of the country. It's not very surprising to learn that Uluru is sacred ground to the Anangu ("AHN-na-nu"), the indigenous people of these parts. As a part of the general consciousness raising in Australia about Aborigines and their history (after and before whites), many sacred and culturally important areas have been returned to control of the peoples who inhabit (or inhabited) the region. These folks are often referred to as the traditional owners, or traditional custodians.
Not only Uluru, but also Kata Tjuta is a part of the national park. Kata Tjuta means "many heads" and it really does look like a lot of large Cyclopean heads coming from the ground. The place has more cultural significance than does Uluru, especially to the men (men and women live very different lives in the Anangu world). The Anangu do not discuss this with outsiders, and little is known about the way this area is used.
I've written elsewhere about the reluctance of Aboriginal elders to share their culture and beliefs, so I won't repeat myself, except to say that it appears that some things are changing. Stories are being shared, whites are being invited to corroborrees, Aborigines are gaining control over the presentation of their lives in the media. At Uluru and Kata Tjuta, the cultural centre has been remodeled to reflect this new openness.
After we arrived yesterday, we went for a base walk around Uluru. This is a flat walk of about six miles, quite easy but long. The weather was cool enough so that no one was taxed by the heat. The students didn't like the flies much, though they were not as bad as they have been in years past -- they're just not used to them. The flies don't bite; they just want a bit if a drink, so they'll go after eyes, mouth, nose, and any bit of sweaty clothing. They're just annoying.

Our walkaround ended late enough so that we left immediately for a sunset viewing of Uluru. As the sun goes down, the rock goes through a series of color changes. I think every tour company in the Northern Territory was there to see this, and the scramble for a viewing spot was disappointing. Companies set up chairs and snack tables so close to the ropes that one could not get to a good photo spot without appearing rude. I finally stepped in front of one group briefly to take a photo, and said that I had come a long way to see this, too. I suppose it was the end of the day, and I was a little grumpy.

We made camp at Ayers Rock Resort, and had a very good chili made by our tour guide. He used camel meat. I generally don't like camel, but presented this way it was fine. While he was making dinner, I gave a brief star lecture which I think the students tolerated fairly well. The Southern Sky has some things that you just cannot see in New York. The interesting thing is that some of the things you can see are here, also, just in unexpected locations and orientations. We can see the handle of the Big Dipper, at least, though it is on the horizon. We can also see Leo overhead, just as you can right now, though here, it appears to be upside down. It isn't; we are.

But of course, one of the highlights of the southern sky is the Southern Cross, the five-star constellation seen on many of the national flags of the Southern Hemisphere. Just as you and I can use the Big Dipper to find north, one can use the Southern Cross to find south. The last two stars in the cup of the Big Dipper are pointer stars, in that they point at the north star Polaris, the star that appears to stay still as the rest of the celestial sphere rotates about it (it's Earth that's doing the rotating, of course). Once you've found Polaris, you know where north is. There is no south star (there actually is one, but it's far too dim to be seen without a telescope). But the South Celestial Pole, the spot in the sky about which the heavens spin, lies on a line drawn through the top and bottom stars of the Southern Cross. Those same stars also serve as a measuring stick, so you can find it even more easily -- count four of those units below the bottom star, and you've got it.

There is a star pattern called the False Cross; it's a part of the constellation Carina. It's somewhat larger that the true Cross, so someone using it for navigation or orienting would need to be able to distinguish the two. That's where more pointer stars come into play. The constellation surrounding the Cross is Centaurus. Stars in a constellation are named with Greek letters in descending order of brightness. The two brightest stars in the constellation Centaurus Alpha Centauri and Beta Centauri, form a line that passes through the Cross before getting anywhere close to the False Cross.

So, you see, it's really quite simple(!) Throw out your compasses and GPS locators. May 21
Uluru - Kata Tjuta National Park
Sunny, mild, clear

We have just finished watching the sunrise from a platform nearby Kata Tjuta, one of the other rock formations of interest in this neck of the woods. I hung back this time and let the others fight for their spot at the viewing rail. I've seen it before, after all. Most of the time, tourists look over at the sunrise taking place just to the left of Uluru in the distance.

I should explain a little about each of these several rock formations. Uluru is the Aboriginal name for Ayers Rock, the worlds largest monolith (single stone). It's the big orange rock you see in any commercial about Australia, a genuine icon of the country. It's not very surprising to learn that Uluru is sacred ground to the Anangu ("AHN-na-nu"), the indigenous people of these parts. As a part of the general consciousness raising in Australia about Aborigines and their history (after and before whites), many sacred and culturally important areas have been returned to control of the peoples who inhabit (or inhabited) the region. These folks are often referred to as the traditional owners, or traditional custodians.
Not only Uluru, but also Kata Tjuta is a part of the national park. Kata Tjuta means "many heads" and it really does look like a lot of large Cyclopean heads coming from the ground. The place has more cultural significance than does Uluru, especially to the men (men and women live very different lives in the Anangu world). The Anangu do not discuss this with outsiders, and little is known about the way this area is used.
I've written elsewhere about the reluctance of Aboriginal elders to share their culture and beliefs, so I won't repeat myself, except to say that it appears that some things are changing. Stories are being shared, whites are being invited to corroborrees, Aborigines are gaining control over the presentation of their lives in the media. At Uluru and Kata Tjuta, the cultural centre has been remodeled to reflect this new openness.
After we arrived yesterday, we went for a base walk around Uluru. This is a flat walk of about six miles, quite easy but long. The weather was cool enough so that no one was taxed by the heat. The students didn't like the flies much, though they were not as bad as they have been in years past -- they're just not used to them. The flies don't bite; they just want a bit if a drink, so they'll go after eyes, mouth, nose, and any bit of sweaty clothing. They're just annoying.

Our walkaround ended late enough so that we left immediately for a sunset viewing of Uluru. As the sun goes down, the rock goes through a series of color changes. I think every tour company in the Northern Territory was there to see this, and the scramble for a viewing spot was disappointing. Companies set up chairs and snack tables so close to the ropes that one could not get to a good photo spot without appearing rude. I finally stepped in front of one group briefly to take a photo, and said that I had come a long way to see this, too. I suppose it was the end of the day, and I was a little grumpy.

We made camp at Ayers Rock Resort, and had a very good chili made by our tour guide. He used camel meat. I generally don't like camel, but presented this way it was fine. While he was making dinner, I gave a brief star lecture which I think the students tolerated fairly well. The Southern Sky has some things that you just cannot see in New York. The interesting thing is that some of the things you can see are here, also, just in unexpected locations and orientations. We can see the handle of the Big Dipper, at least, though it is on the horizon. We can also see Leo overhead, just as you can right now, though here, it appears to be upside down. It isn't; we are.

But of course, one of the highlights of the southern sky is the Southern Cross, the five-star constellation seen on many of the national flags of the Southern Hemisphere. Just as you and I can use the Big Dipper to find north, one can use the Southern Cross to find south. The last two stars in the cup of the Big Dipper are pointer stars, in that they point at the north star Polaris, the star that appears to stay still as the rest of the celestial sphere rotates about it (it's Earth that's doing the rotating, of course). Once you've found Polaris, you know where north is. There is no south star (there actually is one, but it's far too dim to be seen without a telescope). But the South Celestial Pole, the spot in the sky about which the heavens spin, lies on a line drawn through the top and bottom stars of the Southern Cross. Those same stars also serve as a measuring stick, so you can find it even more easily -- count four of those units below the bottom star, and you've got it.

There is a star pattern called the False Cross; it's a part of the constellation Carina. It's somewhat larger that the true Cross, so someone using it for navigation or orienting would need to be able to distinguish the two. That's where more pointer stars come into play. The constellation surrounding the Cross is Centaurus. Stars in a constellation are named with Greek letters in descending order of brightness. The two brightest stars in the constellation Centaurus Alpha Centauri and Beta Centauri, form a line that passes through the Cross before getting anywhere close to the False Cross.

So, you see, it's really quite simple(!) Throw out your compasses and GPS locators.