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
