The final entry for 2006

May 23
Alice Springs
Sunny, mild, clear

(and May 24 an 25 in Sydney)

We're in our room at Elkes Hostel waiting for the Mulga bus to take us back to the airport for our flight to Sydney, so I thought I'd close the journal by writing about some of the smaller anecdotes from the trip. These are in no particular order. It is possible that I wrote about some of these in my other entries, so please be patient if I am repeating myself in some of these.

1. When we arrived in Australia, the big story in the news was the mining accident in Beaconsfield, Tasmania. Three miners were trapped about a kilometer underground; one was dead, but two were still alive. The rescue efforts were agonizingly slow, and the miners digging the rescue shaft were in constant danger of another collapse. But they got those two out alive, and they are recuperating in hospital right now.
   
2. In Central Australia, the time after sunrise seems to be a little colder and windier. I suspect that there's a strong downdraft after sunrise, as the air to the east heats and rises, initiating a connection roll.
   
3. I am now sitting in a laundromat in Sydney, on Wednesday morning. We leave on Friday. I have used this laundry for years, and it does not change much at all, although all the places around it are closing up. The Potts Point / Kings Cross area is changing, and not for the better, I fear. Today, we will purchase day passes for the students for the mass transit. I really do not know how I'll spend the day.
   
4. As we pulled into the McDonald's at Innisfail for lunch, our coach driver referred to it as "the American Embassy." There is a move down here to ban toys in the children's meals -- small parts can choke.
   
5. While walking about, I saw some school childre4n performing a dance concert at a band shell at Hides Corner, a mall in central Cairns. They were clearly having fun, and a few showed some genuine talent. Since both of my sons have been involved in competitive dance, I always appreciate it when I see a group of boys dancing -- I don't know about Australia, but I do know that American boys can get teased a bit if they dance.
   
6. I had my very favorite meal in Australia twice this year. The coral trout, blackened, at Barnacle Bill's, on the esplanade in Cairns.
   
7. When I return home, I think I'll put some Cecil B. de Mille movies on the NetFlix list. There was a documentary of his career shown on TV down here, and I think I now know where Ed Wood (Plan Nine from Outer Space) got his inspiration.
   
8. One of the issues facing the tropical rainforest is the impending extinction of the cassowary. Many species of rainforest trees require that their seed pass through a cassowary before germination. Among the threats to the cassowary, one of the biggest is the introduced feral pigs. These animals also inhabit the rainforest, have no natural predators and are only checked by crocodiles and human culling. When we were walking in the Daintree rainforest, we saw plenty of evidence of the pigs rooting in the undergrowth. The problem is that the pigs will get at the cassowary eggs. The cassowary is an aggressive bird, and is capable of killing a person, using a jumping attack and tearing with its leg claws, like a raptor. But they can only do so much against the invaders.
   
9. My colleague is a train buff, and so it made the trip for him when we saw a cane train motoring up the tracks alongside the highway.
   
10. It is now Wednesday evening. After a meal at a German restaurant (to my lovely wife: wiener schnitzel and red cabbage!), we are now watching the first game in the State of Origin series. This is a sort of an all-star game of the NRL, the National Rugby League. If you've watched rugby played, this game is slightly different, though I am unfamiliar enough with either form that it really does not matter. The game has now ended, with the Blues hanging on to win 17-16.
    
11. As I walked through Hyde Park yesterday, just after visiting the very solemn ANZAC War memorial at the south end, I saw ahead, near the fountain, hundreds of school children at play, having a day off from school. To the east, the bells of St. Mary’s cathedral were ringing gaily, as though for a wedding. The sun was shining through the trees, from a clear blue sky. You probably have those perfect moments in your life from time to time, too.
    

I’ll think I’ll just leave it like that. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this year’s journal. Thank you for your comments and suggestions. We are already thinking about the 2007 course, so please check back next year for our new stories.

Camping part three

This is the last of three entries about our camping trip. I am now in Alice Springs, an the internet kiosk. It's going to be a bit of a hassle to upload photos here, so I will probably do so tomorrow. Please visit the Flickr site then if you want to see some photos from the camping.

May 22
King's Creek Station
Sunny, mild, clear (again!)

We are on the coach, in fact, returning from our walk at Watarrka (King's Canyon). We will stop a moment at the station where we camped last night, and then push on to Alike Springs.

As I've done this sort of tour several times now, I've noticed that I am beginning to value different things about it. We walk at Uluru, Kata Tjuta, and Watarrka, and in that order, almost all the time. Uluru is very touristy, and I find that I am noticing that more and more, as though the things of real value are vanishing.

The walk at Kata Tjuta is more of a physical challenge. There are at least two step climbs and a climb up a tilted sandstone face. The ground is more difficult to traverse as well. Unlike Uluru, which is pretty much a big piece of sandstone slowly eroding from the wind, Kata Tjuta is a sandstone-volcanic rock conglomerate. Think of boulders held together by a sandstone matrix and you've got the idea. The sandstone still undergoes the wind erosion, but now the result is a surface in which relatively large sections can fall out at once. The loosening of a boulder the size of an emu egg is a small matter, but a car-sized boulder falling suddenly from a cliff face must be terrifying. As we walked, we saw much evidence of exactly that. Of course, once a large boulder has been dislodged, the wind works on the weak sandstone behind it, creating numerous depressions and mini-caves along the cliff faces. We stopped at the top of a passage between two large stones. The view was wonderful. One of the other tour groups was kind enough to take group photos of us using our own cameras, and we returned the favor.
Because the track we used goes up and down a lot, the return trip is about as taxing as the first half. Since it was later in the morning, a few people were more easily tired out by it. No injuries or sickness at all, parents, but a few decisions to take it easy on our final walk at Watarrka.

While I prefer Kata Tjuta to Uluru, Kata Tjuta is frustrating, as it generates questions that I know I will never have answered -- I have my guesses about how Aboriginal men use Kata Tjuta, but I know I won't ever really know.

The first night of our camping takes place at Ayers Rock Resort, the commercial portion of the enterprise at Uluru. It is pretty crowded, and while pleasant, you do not feel as if you're really out in the wild. King's Creek Station is where we spend our second night, and the camping here is much more satisfying. We are away from the crowds of Uluru, and still have a full-featured camping area. King's Creek Station is a working cattle station, one of the smaller ones, with the camping resort as a secondary venture. Nonetheless, they do offer toilets and showers; a camp store; attractions such as station tours by camel, 4wd, or even helicopter; a coffee shop with gourmet coffee; even an (expensive) internet connection! So, it was a nice night. The weather was not so cooperative, clouding over just enough to make star-gazing difficult, but all in all, a pretty good night. A few sprinkles, but nothing that the swag can't repel.

. . .


There is one incident that the students insist I share with you. During our drive from Kata Tjuta to King's Creek Station, we made a roadside stop. The first reason we stop is to collect firewood. One of the features of the Central Australian landscape is the presence of many dead trees: mulgas, desert oaks, gum trees. The trees die when the water table shifts of when other trees take their water supply. (Everything out here is about the availability of water). Collecting firewood is nothing more than going off the road a few dozen metres and picking up old dried-up dead bits. It takes only a few moments to collect more than enough for the night. We do this every year when we camp.
The other reason we stopped is to find a wichety grub. The wichety grub, the larval stage of the ghost moth, lives inside the roots of certain bushes, like the Gidgee or the mulga. Aboriginal women would find a likely bush, dig down to the woody roots, looking for one that is bulging. Breaking open the roots reveals the cream-colored grub, about the same size as your index finger. The Aborigines eat the grubs, raw if necessary, but more often cooked. The flavor -- I am told -- is like egg, but nuttier.


Now it is the usual practice for the tour guide to offer the grub to one of the students to eat. Every year, the students have refused, though, so the guide has always wound up eating it for us, holding the head and biting quickly right behind it. It's over pretty quick.

This year, two of our students ate wichety grubs. It is the first time this has happened. Now I am sworn to secrecy, so I cannot tell you who. Parents, it's their little puzzle for you. I can tell you that I have seen no ill physical effects from their doing this, although the culture of the group seems to have altered somewhat.

. . .

Today began with an early morning walk at Watarrka, a canyon system at the end of the Gill Range. This has become my favorite part of the camping trip; I never fail to learn some new things while on the walk.

The first part of this walk is a steep climb up Heart Attack Hill, aptly named -- unprepared tourists have died here. I am afraid that I started off at too fast a pace up the first hill, and my legs soon cramped. And after telling the students that it wasn't a race! I was embarrassed, but recovered and made it up to the top, where everyone was waiting for me.

The view is unique. The colors are actually simple: the rusty red earth, the clear blue sky with a few white clouds, the green leaves of the plants and the silvery gray of the dry and dead wood. At the top of the canyon, we're about 100 metres above the plain, and can therefore see for perhaps a hundred miles or more. The rock that makes up most of the canyon area is a sandstone that develops a tough rust-red coating when exposed to air.

Watarrka was important to the tribes in the vicinity for two related reasons. It was a reliable source of water, perhaps the only one until Uluru, a couple of hundred of kilometers away. The sandstone acts as a sponge and absorbs most of the rainwater that lands.

And of course, the presence of water means that there's a lot of bush tucker, the food gathered by the Aborigines. Our guide was able to offer us a lot of information about the plants on the canyon rim and their uses as bush tucker and bush medicine. I have some photos that I'll upload to Flickr, together with some explanations.

After a lunch stiop at Mt. Ebeneezer,we are on the last leg back to Alice Springs. The students are in a good mood, listening to and singing along with songs the guide is supplying from his iPod. There are clouds ahead, so perhaps it will be raining in Alice Springs when we arrive. Tonight I will try to find the time to upload these journals, after we have a group dinner.

Tomorrow, we will return to Sydney for our last few days in Australia.

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.

Camping, part one

This is the first of three entries that I wrote while on our camping trip. Please make sure you read all three.

I am not going to upload any photos at the moment; it'll be easier at the Global Gossip location in Sydney. So watch for those tomorrow.

--charlie


May 18-19
Alice Springs
Sunny, mild, clear

Currently, we are riding on the coach on our way to Uluru. We just left Noel Fullerton's Camel Farm, where we had our morning breakfast and restroom break. We've stopped there several times over the years; it's a very welcome sight on the lonely Stuart Highway. Students can go for a camel ride, or just wander about in the animal sanctuary. There's a pet dingo, and many magpies and galahs hanging about. But I want to write more about our two days in Alice Springs first, so I'll return to our camping trip later.

Our first evening included a concert given by Andrew Langford at his home shop, Sounds of Starlight, on the Todd Mall. A small didgeridoo shop fronts for a larger studio theatre, where Andrew and his two percussionist sidemen give a very nice concert lasting about 90 minutes. The concert includes a light show and a slide show, as well as the opportunity to interact with the musicians either by playing a didgeridoo or a percussion instrument. I was a maraca. Andrew displays a good knowledge of the indigenous people in the area, and freely acknowledges that the didgeridoo is not an instrument played by the language groups near and south of Alice Springs. Nevertheless, his concert reflects the creative artistic spirit that one sees expressed in many ways in Central Australia.

The second day was our tour. It was a little disorganized, as the tour company had one of their coaches break down and could not easily accommodate a group our size otherwise. I had to attend to another matter, and so missed out on the Desert Park, catching up with the group at lunch.

Sometimes, the 'can do' attitude leads to problems. A group of 25 showing up at a small eatery with little warning can create problems, especially if that group is on a schedule. Such was the case for this poor restaurant. They had very nice food, and the setting was a pleasant outdoor patio, but there was one table server and one cook, so we lost a lot of time at lunch. Our stops at the Telegraph Station, the School of the Air, the Royal Flying Doctors, and ANZAC Hill were therefore rushed.

The Telegraph Station is a living history museum adjoining a public park. When we arrived, there were many school children having an outing. One of the students started playing 'catch' with some of the Aboriginal youths who had a rugby ball. They were kicking it as much as throwing it, of course. The children were packing up to go, and we had our schedule to keep, so the catch game was frustratingly short, but it was nice to see even that small a connection made.

Our students arrived at the station in time to have a guided tour of the buildings. The telegraph station was one of several repeaters that linked Adelaide (and therefore early urban Australia) to Darwin. Darwin was linked to Asia via underwater lines, and so Australia was ultimately linked by telegraph back to mother England. Information from the central government could reach the Australian Outback in a matter of hours rather than weeks.

That we were rushed at The School of the Air was probably the biggest disappointment to me, since this stop is the one that resonates with students the most often. Certainly our education majors get a lot out of the brief visit to the nerve center of this unique school system. The School of the Air began as a side function of the Royal Flying Doctors Service (RFDS). The RFDS mission is to provide emergency medical care and transport, requiring radio. A teacher recognized that the radios, when not being used for medical emergencies, could be used as an educational aide for the children on the remote cattle stations or communities. After operating this way for some years, the School of the Air got its own frequencies and funding. It's been providing this service now for over 50 years, and have recently switched from radio to broadband satellite internet. It's a marvelous service, and, for those of us who sometimes get a little jaded with our huge educational industry in the State, drives home the point of just how important it really is to help our children everywhere learn as much as they can.

We do visit the RFDS centre as well. There were two emergency medical transports in progress while we were there, underscoring the importance of the service. The presentation consists of a short video, and Q&A session. They also have a small museum, gift shop, and grill. They are funded mostly from donations, including the ones they receive at centres like this one. I always drop most of my change into the bin when I visit -- I might need them before the day is over!

Our tour was a little taxed by the small bus we had to work with, so a few of us walked to ANZAC Hill to end the day. The view of Alice and the surrounding area is quite nice; the climb is well worth it. We could see what appeared to be controlled burns in the distance, as well as the portion of the MacDonnell range that are called the Caterpillars by the indigenous peoples.

The hill is located just north of the Todd Mall, so after a short walk down and some time at an internet stop (where I put in the previous short entry), I met my colleague and some students for a pleasant evening dinner at Keller's, a restaurant that features Swiss cuisine and Indian cuisine, an odd mix. I had beef vindaloo, a spicy beef stew (like yours, Dad, but a lot spicier) served with rice. A very pleasant way to end the day.

It is now midmorning; we've been on the road for a few hours. We just left our second stop of the day at Mt. Ebeneezer, a roadhouse located nearby the Aboriginal village of Imanpa. I finally took the plunge and bought a few Aboriginal prints made by local artists. One pays less here than in Sydney, and the artists get more since there are fewer middlemen taking their cut. I get it a little more than I did at first, but I have a lot to learn. Of course, the artists use modern media and have a lot more Western-style representation than they would have in the past -- I doubt that Aboriginal artists of a century ago even made prints as we think of them, probably using their skills to decorate their tools and utensils. In any case, not only do I get the prints, but a brief biography of each of the artists and a pamphlets describing the basics of the symbolism generally used in the art.