I did a Skype presentation today to a group of social work students at Griffith Uni. I think the novelty of having someone so remote means that my name sticks in the minds of lecturers. Hence the invite. I promptly co-opted my colleague (and former social work placement supervisor), Rosalie into it as well. Just for company.
Plus, really, Rosalie is more deserving of this request, being almost an institution out on the Lands. She's been here seven years now, and set up the Department's permanent presence on the Lands. I was musing the other day that she defines for community members what a social worker is and does, based on who she is and how she chooses to act (or not, if the case warrants). She's also been recognised for her work, having won the WA Social Worker of the year last year. She's embarrassed to have it referred to all the time, but I think it's worth the accolade being mentioned every now and again!
As we Skyped away, all going to plan, Rosalie made mention of how the IT infrastructure on the Lands was not available to a former social work student she supervised. My inability to access the internet the past few weeks has also sheeted home to me how different Warburton is now to a few years ago. One memorable week in 2007, I was stuck up in the roadhouse. Mobiles of no use (no reception). A dodgy satellite phone, hideously expensive in any case. No internet access. A battered old Telstra public phone, sitting above a broken old chair at the back of the roadhouse laundry, my only connection to anyone outside Warburton. It was a very isolating week, and I was glad when it was over.
Now, back again in Warburton. My trusty little pink Samsung mobile works. There's a community access wireless internet service available (strongest reception near the shop). ADSL broadband if you can get a laptop and wireless broadband token. I'm still working off a pretty slow laptop that I've borrowed but, importantly, I am now connected. The world suddenly becomes smaller and for that I'm thankful.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
A cup of life
I have been reflecting lately that friendships and family are like cups. Over time, we collect a motley set. Occasionally, we clear a few cups out, or they get broken. Irretrievably. Some can be patched together, bearing their scars with fragility. Others not.
A few friendships are like precious, fine china cups. Delicate. Great care is taken. They are looked after. Travel with you wherever you go. Family seem to me like sturdy pannikins. No amount of hard wear and tear changes their essential reliable character. An important part of any kit of cups.
Some friendships are like the mugs you have at work. Important for a time, but not the kind of friendship that really lasts the test of time. A good mug of its time, for its time.
Occasionally I strive to get my collection of cups at home all alike. Whites of various hues and textures was my latest futile endeavour. But then someone gives you a mug that you can't bear to throw away. Or there is the precious cup and saucer in eggshell blue that I love for no particular reason. Any attempt to make all my cups the same is really just striving to achieve some Vogue Living ideal. For show only, without any integrity in purpose. Just like life, I embrace my motley cups and enjoy them in all their wonderous diversity.
A few friendships are like precious, fine china cups. Delicate. Great care is taken. They are looked after. Travel with you wherever you go. Family seem to me like sturdy pannikins. No amount of hard wear and tear changes their essential reliable character. An important part of any kit of cups.
Some friendships are like the mugs you have at work. Important for a time, but not the kind of friendship that really lasts the test of time. A good mug of its time, for its time.
Occasionally I strive to get my collection of cups at home all alike. Whites of various hues and textures was my latest futile endeavour. But then someone gives you a mug that you can't bear to throw away. Or there is the precious cup and saucer in eggshell blue that I love for no particular reason. Any attempt to make all my cups the same is really just striving to achieve some Vogue Living ideal. For show only, without any integrity in purpose. Just like life, I embrace my motley cups and enjoy them in all their wonderous diversity.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
All in a day's work
Today was quite a standout. Fred and I came to Warburton yesterday for computer training (sigh) and a specialist appointment (thankfully, nothing wrong, and the best part of that was the specialist agreed to see me, despite being non-Indigenous, thereby saving us an 18 hour round trip). This somewhat banal trip to Warburton, however, turned into an eventful occasion.
About 9.30am, when Eleanor and I were settling into playgroup, the heavens opened and it proceeded to bucket down. We stayed on playing with Eleanor's friend Nadia until the very end of playgroup, rain still coming apiece, and hotfooted it to the store. Went shopping. Rain still coming down with reasonable force. Shoes completely drenched, the rest of me not much better.
As we made our way back to the poor trainees in the courthouse (which was temporarily commissioned as our DCP training room), I noticed that we seemed to have a pretty strong current running in front of the station. Blocking our way back to the roadhouse. No problem, it will recede.
Now, 10 hours later, one submerged airstrip and 23 houses inundated, we find ourselves camping overnight at a friend's house, separated from our possessions by a strong flowing new river (complete with partially submerged and stalled troopie from an injudicious attempt to cross). Eleanor is wearing Nadia's clothes and I'll be decked out in her mother's tomorrow.
Fred is exhausted in bed, after rising to the challenge of negotiating and handing out mattresses, blankets and food vouchers to the 100 or so occupants of the aforementioned houses. DCP is the emergency response agency in WA, so all the team - except me on daycare duty - were holding fort at the store with the all important house list and a crowd of expectant and somewhat bedraggled community members.
All in a day's work (better than training, that's for sure!).
Photos courtesy of Nadia's mum, Toni.
About 9.30am, when Eleanor and I were settling into playgroup, the heavens opened and it proceeded to bucket down. We stayed on playing with Eleanor's friend Nadia until the very end of playgroup, rain still coming apiece, and hotfooted it to the store. Went shopping. Rain still coming down with reasonable force. Shoes completely drenched, the rest of me not much better.
As we made our way back to the poor trainees in the courthouse (which was temporarily commissioned as our DCP training room), I noticed that we seemed to have a pretty strong current running in front of the station. Blocking our way back to the roadhouse. No problem, it will recede.
 |
| Airstrip: bowsers in centre, waiting area on left |
All in a day's work (better than training, that's for sure!).
 |
| Water on the wrong side of the levee bank |
Sunday, February 6, 2011
The other side of life
As we experience an interesting week weather-wise, with the wussy remains of Yasi knocking the clothes line about and threatening to push Eleanor off her feet, it's been an interesting week in other ways.
For a start, Fred and I seem to be having an unannounced bake-off. I made Almond Meringue Torte with Lemon Curd and Mango (backed up by an impromptu trifle with fresh custard from the leftover egg yolks), while he responded with Sour Cream French Pastry Tart with Plums. Both excellent, if I do say so myself... based on tasting very very small slices, since I am (as already announced) in 'Week 1' of the fitness blitz. One of the things I've noticed about myself since living remote is that the opportunity and motivation to make something a bit different tends to arise more than normal. After all, there's no cake shop down the road to step up to the plate. The only limitation is finding a recipe that is both interesting and comprised of ingredients that are actually available. Or can be left out. So to answer the question of whether it's possible to make meringue without cream of tartar: yes.
Second, I have had two experiences of a relaxed, social nature with community members. Noteworthy in and of itself for not occurring very often. Interestingly, in such small communities, you would imagine that there are lots of opportunities to meet up with local community members and participate in the same event on equal terms. This just does not seem to happen very much. Normally, interactions are loaded in some way with work elements. Even trips to the shop take on a work quality as the opportunity to talk to a client or relative appears. The main community events that tend to happen are a barbeque, but these are nearly always organised with an ulterior motive (usually, to draw a crowd for a meeting about some new policy or program).
Last night, however, the coppers decided to put on a movie night in the courthouse (outside being too windy, refer to earlier Yasi note). We decided Eleanor could have a big night out at the movies, and kept her up way past her bedtime. Packed into the courthouse, surrounded by kids demolishing small bags of $1 mixed lollies (prices almost like my school days) and copious cans of 'cool drink', we strained to hear the dialogue above the din. It didn't matter much for Shrek is just as enjoyable without the sound. Eleanor fluctuated between wanting to sit on my lap during the scary parts, and wanting to ensure no other little kids sat on her camp chair. A hard decision. It was, however, a lovely evening with community kids and a few adults - all of us enjoying the same thing together.
Just as enjoyable was the Warburton Aqua Aerobics that I did on Thursday night. This is the second time that I've managed to get to the aerobics, which is apparently now happening every weeknight at 5.30pm (for those of you who can make it). The sky above the open air pool was threatening, with a few calls among the women of 'kapi pitangu' (rain coming). The instructor pointedly replied that we were wet anyway, so why were we worried! Point taken. As serendipity would have it, the partner of one of the nurses is a qualified fitness instructor, and she has taken it on herself to run these evening classes. Both times, there have been as many, if not more, community members doing the class as staff. The women go in their clothes (swimmers being too revealing) so my covered up SunSmart swimmers fit right in. Swimming together, laughing at our ineptitude, sharing names and some language, it is a lovely relaxed atmosphere. No work, no ulterior motives, no attempts to build relationships. Just relationship building in a genuine way.
The new word I learned on Thursday - munkarra - the other side (shouted at the kids trying to move past the divider of the wading pool into the deep end, where they were not allowed during the class). A fitting word for this week, where I had a taste of how sweet the other side of community life can be.
For a start, Fred and I seem to be having an unannounced bake-off. I made Almond Meringue Torte with Lemon Curd and Mango (backed up by an impromptu trifle with fresh custard from the leftover egg yolks), while he responded with Sour Cream French Pastry Tart with Plums. Both excellent, if I do say so myself... based on tasting very very small slices, since I am (as already announced) in 'Week 1' of the fitness blitz. One of the things I've noticed about myself since living remote is that the opportunity and motivation to make something a bit different tends to arise more than normal. After all, there's no cake shop down the road to step up to the plate. The only limitation is finding a recipe that is both interesting and comprised of ingredients that are actually available. Or can be left out. So to answer the question of whether it's possible to make meringue without cream of tartar: yes.
Second, I have had two experiences of a relaxed, social nature with community members. Noteworthy in and of itself for not occurring very often. Interestingly, in such small communities, you would imagine that there are lots of opportunities to meet up with local community members and participate in the same event on equal terms. This just does not seem to happen very much. Normally, interactions are loaded in some way with work elements. Even trips to the shop take on a work quality as the opportunity to talk to a client or relative appears. The main community events that tend to happen are a barbeque, but these are nearly always organised with an ulterior motive (usually, to draw a crowd for a meeting about some new policy or program).
Last night, however, the coppers decided to put on a movie night in the courthouse (outside being too windy, refer to earlier Yasi note). We decided Eleanor could have a big night out at the movies, and kept her up way past her bedtime. Packed into the courthouse, surrounded by kids demolishing small bags of $1 mixed lollies (prices almost like my school days) and copious cans of 'cool drink', we strained to hear the dialogue above the din. It didn't matter much for Shrek is just as enjoyable without the sound. Eleanor fluctuated between wanting to sit on my lap during the scary parts, and wanting to ensure no other little kids sat on her camp chair. A hard decision. It was, however, a lovely evening with community kids and a few adults - all of us enjoying the same thing together.
Just as enjoyable was the Warburton Aqua Aerobics that I did on Thursday night. This is the second time that I've managed to get to the aerobics, which is apparently now happening every weeknight at 5.30pm (for those of you who can make it). The sky above the open air pool was threatening, with a few calls among the women of 'kapi pitangu' (rain coming). The instructor pointedly replied that we were wet anyway, so why were we worried! Point taken. As serendipity would have it, the partner of one of the nurses is a qualified fitness instructor, and she has taken it on herself to run these evening classes. Both times, there have been as many, if not more, community members doing the class as staff. The women go in their clothes (swimmers being too revealing) so my covered up SunSmart swimmers fit right in. Swimming together, laughing at our ineptitude, sharing names and some language, it is a lovely relaxed atmosphere. No work, no ulterior motives, no attempts to build relationships. Just relationship building in a genuine way.
The new word I learned on Thursday - munkarra - the other side (shouted at the kids trying to move past the divider of the wading pool into the deep end, where they were not allowed during the class). A fitting word for this week, where I had a taste of how sweet the other side of community life can be.
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