NAIDOC Ball

Last weekend I found myself with an extra ticket to the Victorian NAIDOC ball, the highlight event that ends a national week of celebrating Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities.

Now I've attended quite a few Society of Women Engineers banquets and am very familiar with the pomp and ceremony of a formal affair, but I couldn't help gawking at the Martha Stewart like center pieces.

"Don't you do this sort of thing in the US?" I was asked, "Not even for your prom?" I don't know about you, but my prom was nothing like this. Or half as fun.

One friend described what I should expect: "It's just a black fellah get-together that ends in a piss up".

Turns out that was pretty accurate. Since this was the Victorian (ie local, not national) ball, it felt more like a formal family picnic. Everyone seemed to know everyone else. There were some out-layers. For instance, I couldn't decide if the people at my table just didn't know anyone or if they missed the memo about the point of the gathering - to celebrate. Needless to say, I didn't spend long at the table trying to figure it out. Things were too interesting everywhere else for me to spend time delving into their personal history.

The evening started out seriously. There were some introductory speeches - the obligatory Welcome which was extra special that evening because the elders leading the welcome had just been honored nationally. My memory fails me on the national Australian honor granted to the first woman, but the second elder I'd been introduced to earlier in the evening and now will never forget: Auntie Carolyn was named NAIDOC Elder of the Year this year. Earlier this week, I found myself confronted with her profile again when a friend showed off the art exhibit she is included in at the Footscray Community Art Center. Auntie Carolyn is one of the three elders involved in the project. Clearly a force in the community.

There were also memorials - Lionel Rose, an influential community leader passed this year.

There was dancing. The big hit of the evening were the young dancers dancing the mosquito dance. The whole room laughed as one while the little ones, aged 5 - 12, faked frantic itching from the unseen pests.

There were more speeches after that based on the evening's theme of "Civil Rights - Still A Fight", but local conversations quickly drowned out any sense of organization. The party spirit in the room could not be contained. People amused themselves, ignored the organizers, and waited for the dance floor to open. When they kicked us out of the convention center at midnight, we moved to the Crown Casino where time doesn't exist and the party never ends. I heard stories that some people continued through to 6pm Monday. I'm amazed at the stamina, but was myself happily tucked into bed by a modest 4am Sunday morning.

BBQ and Birds

This week I've seen enough rainbows for a life time. Heywood is part of what is called the Green Triangle - the part of Victoria that didn't suffer from the recent droughts.

It was another wet week and we carted boxes from the shed in between rain drops. I was worried we'd be trapped in the motel room again all week, but in fact this week flew by. This was helped by a number of factors:

For starters, I had a short week. It's time for round one of fun-with-visas. First step: Find a lawyer.

Secondly, the archive work is progressing well and the shed is just about half cleared. Nothing raises the spirits like spring cleaning gone well.

And third and most tasty, the power went out on Monday. I missed this bit of excitement, but I was back to work in time to learn that the meat in the fridge had started to defrost. The field crew, it was explained, expects to be well fed during the firefighting season, and, that time of the year having just passed, there were about 50 choice cuts of beef in danger of ruin. We can't let that go to waste can we? Wednesday we had lunch.

In a side note, it's bird mating season. At home, this means waiting to see those cute little sparrows feeding their eager young. But folks, we are in Australia and there isn't much cute around here. To compensate for the harsh environment certain birds nest in open fields so they can see predators coming. When agitated they swoop at the offender, targeting the eyes and using spurs on their wings to maim and send creators of all sizes running away whimpering.

One of these birds is nesting in the DSE office yard.

The first week we spend terrified that our eyes were going to get pecked out.

Last week we learned that this particular bird - the masked plover - doesn't actually strike it's targets; "its just trying to scare you" said the local newspaper article. I stopped fearing this species and became terrified of accidentally disturbing Magpie parents nesting on our route back to the hotel. Those guys are out to get you.

This week we were brave enough to take pictures. Well some of us - this is my colleague's hand defending herself as she bravely makes a run for it (bird in background).

The poor birds spend so much time defending their young they are hardly on the nest. We don't think the little ones will make it so we are just dealing with the swooping until they abandon it and try again at another spot. I feel badly that the parents are always so agitated, but the thought struck me at one point that this may be the only time that I can safely "we were here first. "

Weeding

Active train tracks we walk over to get to work. 

One of the documents I ran across this week explained the best way to go when dealing with an invasive pine in a native forest: hand removal.

Weeding in a forest.

Puts 250 archive boxes into perspective, doesn't it?

This week my archiving partner and I spent bonding with the inhabitants of the office. The field workers whose space we have invaded keep offering to take us on drives around the country. The people in the office have offered to set up security access so we can use the kitchen facilities after hours (there being none in the motel). It's country hospitality at it's best.

I'm just jumping at the chance to use that hospitality to experience some of the unique experiences available only in the Aussie bush.

One of my goals for this assignment is to get the field workers to take me for a ride in one of the big toys. There is no guarantee that they'll have cause to use them while we're out here, but as the 3 week project has been extended to at least 6 the odds are looking up.

Anyway, I've gotten close.

The big guns.