When you think you are all alone in the Outback…

When You Think You Are All Alone in the Outback

by

Cazzie!!!

The day was set to be a lovely clear one. Nothing in particular seemed out of place, it all appeared normal. That was until I turned around, what I thought was my shadow, was not my shadow. It was, indeed, the sky above, becoming darker and the air felt cooler by the second.

I looked to my left, over there, behind the hill, there was a place to find cover. In the Outback, the weather can change so suddenly. A cloudburst could dump thousands of litres of water in a matter of minutes. The wind could whoop up and push away the clouds and the Sun would shine through vividly. The ground, so arid, would sop up the rain in minutes, leaving the place looking just as it was before the rain even came.

Plodding footsteps came from behind me. Could it be a kangaroo? No, it was too heavily set to be a kangaroo, and I was not about to stop and look around, I wanted to get undercover.

Flummoxed by the sound even so, I kept my pace. I finally reached the hill, I found a rock ledge protruding from the hill and took shelter there. A cacophony of screetches ensued. It was the sound a flock of Gala’s flying hurriedly for cover, alerting each other to the ensuing rain.

Then, it hit, the deluge of water making the rock face all shiny and smooth looking. Those footsteps from before, they were those of a little Aboriginal fellow. He began speaking in his native tongue, I could not understand him. His expression on his face one of excitement, mixed with alarm. I was not sure what it was he wanted. He scooped up some of the Outback dirt in his hand, held it out under the running water that was dripping off of the rock above us and made the dirt into a paste.

With finesse, he proceeded to mark the underbelly of the rock with indigenous art icons. I remembered in high school, the study of general arts. Australian aboriginal art is a representation of visual history of the stories, song, dance and spiritual beliefs of the indigenous people of Australia. It plays an important cultural role in the "passing on" of traditions, myths and history. Originally, the art was painted on surfaces such as walls of caves, rocks and Aboriginal bodies for ceremonies. The form and style of Australian Aboriginal art is very different by region in Australia and by artist. Indigenous Australian art is tribal in nature, often with imperfections, with color and iconography or symbols used as part of the story telling process.

The boy was drawing me, evidently, a white woman with a scarf on her head, then he drew himself, the boy with long curly hair, strikingly white teeth and a bright yellow T-Shirt. Then, I thought he was finger painting an image of a monkey, but it turned out to be that of, what seemed to be, a little girl. Yes, it was a little girl, she was stuck inside a corrugated iron shed. This thought triggered a plethora of emotions for me, I was remembering a time when I was trapped as a little girl, down in a water well…

I had to get a grip. I knew that we needed to make a break for it, run for it, but to where? He seemed to know the way. I followed, using his footsteps as guidance, as the rain was pelting down again. We came to an abrupt stop. The boy ushered me underneath the verandah of the shed, the one he drew. I could hear a call for help. Inside my backpack I remembered I had a key. I felt around for it, through the change that was floating around the bottom of the bag, as well as the pens and crayons and markers I had in there. Ahhh, the key, I unlocked the door to the shed, it was, afterall, my place. The girl had gotten in through the small loo window, and could not get out. Her sigh of relief was music to her brother’s ears.

Today I had met two lovely friends, who would soon teach me the customs of the Indigenous people of this land. What I had to offer them in return, I was yet to figure out.