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