‘The map is not the territory’: first reflections on being a guest on Ngaanyatjarra lands
I promised friends, former colleagues and family over a month ago I would write about my experiences moving to Wingellina (Irrunytju) to work for Yarnangu in Ngaanyatjarra country. In the 3 weeks since arriving, I’ve been stricken with doubt, though. What insights can I possibly offer at this stage? Any feelings I have one moment seem invalidated by the rapid pace of learning day by day.
Three weeks later, I’ve just completed my first trip out to some of the communities I’ll be servicing for the next year or more, and some observations seem firm enough in my mind that my anxieties about being ‘wrong’ will permit me to disclose them.
Connection to country
‘Waterhole, turn here.”
My fellow imported Colleague in the passenger seat and I were urged to go down a track by our young Yarnangu fellow travelling men in the back seat of the Troopie. As I drove carefully down the sandy, at times rocky, track towards the gorge, their mood lifted noticeably, and as we stopped where the track got too hard going for my liking they got out quickly and headed towards where the walls of the gorge converged.
The Quite One pointed out a serpent painting on one of the walls of the gorge. I couldn’t see it at first, but eventually I followed his pointed arm and finger as he directed my Colleague and bam! There it was.
“Is that old or recent?” my Colleague inquired. The answer wasn’t clear. But it was genuine. And I felt privileged being shown it.
As we ventured further into the gorge, the mood of both the Quite one and his companion, the Rock Star, improved further. We came to the waterhole, and the Quite One dipped his ample hair into its waters while the Rock Star showed is another painted serpent and explained the Dreamtime meaning.
“We can’t go further than the waterhole. The serpent lives there. Only senior men can. If you do, the serpent will push you back.”
My colleague asked several times: “Can we take photos?” Many scenic sites are sacred to the Yarnangu and taking photos is disrespectful. I’ve already had to quickly take down something I posted in ignorance on Facebook when my Predecessor saw it and warned me. It’s best to be certain.
The Rock Star confirmed it was allowed.
We took photos, stood in awe, and then walked back to the Troopie to continue on our journey to Tjukurla.
“Not far”
The next day’s destination of Kiwirrkurra was entirely over rough unpaved roads and tracks, roughly the first half of which were over the Sandy Blight Junction Road unknown to my Colleague or I. The Rock Star assured me it was “not far”, but we should take a short cut.
Several hours later still driving on a rough track sometimes sandy, sometimes corrugated, sometimes rocky, sometimes all three, and always breathtakingly beautiful dune country, I assumed we were still on this “short cut” that is not marked on my 14 year old map. It turned out the map was incomplete, and we had been travelling on this “road” nearly the whole way. I am reminded of the old geo-data maxim: “The map is not the territory.”
We arrive at Kiwirrkurra after dark, after spending half of the day averaging 40 km/h when I was budgeting on 70 km/h. I spent that half of the day sometimes disbelieving I am getting paid to drive in this spectacular country — home to our Yarnangu travel companions — and the other half the day worrying about our progress and then reassuring myself silently that I am getting paid to do this.
I also conclude that “not far” means we’ll get there before the next day for Indigenous Australians from this country!
We get into Kiwirrkurra and ask wi-fi contractors in the kitchen of our accommodation about obtaining keys. One responds that they can’t help, as they’re “service providers” like us. I instantly recoil from this description. Is that all I am? A service provider? Drive-in, install or repair, then drive-out? Perhaps at the moment it is. I want to be more, however.
Reasons for pessimism and optimism
In my final morning in Kiwirrkurra I meet another “service provider”, this time one established in the community for a while with a nice house, dog and garden to show for it.
He’s a lovely bloke, but he’s pessimistic about the future of this and other communities. He thinks it’s important to maintain them for the older Yarnangu, but he’s of the opinion the younger ones just want the services and facilities of Alice Springs some 700 kilometres away.
I’m not sure about this, and I hope he’s wrong. The way the Quiet One and the Rock Star responded to the waterhole 3 days ago gives me hope that he may be just jaded.
Soon after we pack the car and head for Alice Springs, initially backtracking down the Gary Junction Road on which we arrived. Another destination “not far”, we arrive in Alice after sunset.
