Since the morning after I arrived in Gladstone, Tuula had been insistent about bringing me to class for show and tell. Today Tim and Maisey were going out in the ministry, so I had a free morning on my hands and Tuula got her way. Fiona drove us to the school and walked us in. We stopped on the way to feed apples to the horses. I should explain the geography. You may recall that the house they live in is up on a hill. From that vantage point there is a view down into the paddock where the horses are and next to the paddock is the school. Its terrible convenient.
When Tuula lead me into the classroom, there was a very brief introduction and then I pretty much sat at the back and observed until it was time for Fiona to pick me up. Class itself was interesting. Today was an Australian sign language class (called Auslan). The kids all wore green and orange school uniforms, sat on pillows on the floor, and had a class dog who mainly just slept. Different words and phrases were taught and the kids were broken into groups at one point and asked to have conversations in sign. There also was a signing of a Christmas standard which Tuula and I sat out. After that the visiting teacher left and the two women who had been assisting from a table at the back of the room stepped in and took charge, as it was time for an outside activity.
As the Auslan teacher left, I was able to catch her outside of the door before she got too far away. At one point during class I was asked if American sign language mainly involved only one hand or two. I said I wasnt sure. But then I has spent the class looking up videos in ASL and Auslan to show the teacher. I showed her a little bit of each and when she asked which website they were from, I told her. I also thanked her for the class and asked how long she had known sign. She said that both of her parents had been deaf and so she grew up around sign. Tuula had told me that this woman was an aboriginal, but I now realized that what I thought of as an aboriginal person was wrong.
The first people here in Australia are called many things: aboriginal people, indigenous people, first nation people, or simply custodians. But as with most Americans who claim to have Native American blood while bearing no resemblance to an American Indian, there are many people in this country who have a first nation person in their family tree to be able to rightly claim that identity. But doing so is a choice as there is still a stigma attached to aboriginal people. Among the more offensive terms are black, blackfells, and aborigne (this being a noun and not an adjective, placing such people in another, possible less than human, class) But more on this in another post.
Fiona arrived, so I said goodbye to Tuula and went back to the house to pack up. We would be making the two hour trip in Khiaras ute (what we would call a pick up in the US), a Mitsubishi Triton dual cab. It was equipped with a bull bar, as are most utes around, as an added insurance policy against car-destroying roos. In such an event the bar gets ruined and not the car. Kangaroos are smaller than deer, but can do as much damage. We loaded it up and began the trip to Monto.
The trip there was pretty straight forward, except that the long roads between distant towns are much bumpier than the Turnpike in Ohio. One got the feeling of hitting turbulence in a small plane. Fiona had packed us sandwiches for the trip, containing lettuce, tomato, cheese, roast beef, and an unexpected ingredient: beet root. Though these may find their way onto the table with a turkey dinner, they generally dont end up in sandwiches. It was novel, to me, but quite common here. We listened to an array of Aussie music on the drive, most of it very catchy and perfect for a road trip. In the distance from time to time could be seen nondescript mountains and dry bush land stretching off toward the horizon. Cows, crops, and hills were interspersed everywhere along the trip. The smoke haze was always present.
As signs for Monto began to pop up, so did the rain. In fact by the time we pulled into the driveway and under the cover of the old mill, there was a steady downpour. It was thrilling. I felt excited, almost as if I had never seen rain before. After having been so long without rain, I took this as a promising start to my stay here; it felt as if everything was going to be okay. Khiara had said ‘Welcome to your new home’ as we pulled into the drive and later invited me to explore the house while she and Tim went into town to buy a washer. Tim had also given me my first assignment; that of unhooking the existing washer and moving it out of the small ground floor bathroom it was in. That done, I went into the house.
A sign next to the door read Home Sweet Home. It was a nice touch and yet another reassuring little hint that I should view this place as such. It was a spacious house and very well appointed, especially the kitchen. I will cover the house itself in depth in an upcoming post. Needless to say I was a bit camera happy and wandered around looking for good pictures. I had viewed the house from above on Google maps, but now it was if I as the little street view icon guy had been physically dropped into this place. To make things even better, as I stood at the back sliding screen door, a black and white bird flew over and landed on the railing. I had heard about this bird. He was a magpie named Check that the Craigs had been feeding before they left. Male magpies have a white area on the back of their necks and this bird had a black mark to one side which looked like a check in a white box. I had nothing to feed him, but he and I would become friends over time. He was the closest thing I had to a roommate, apart from a gecko I wouldnt discover til a couple days later. There were also a pair of horses in the back paddock. My neighbors. I named them Fred and Ethel.
Tim and Khiara returned with a small washer and I spent the next hour hooking it up. It was a small capacity affair, holding about a third of a full sized washer, but it was perfect for my needs and, once I had figured out the controls, served me well. I would need to get dirty clothes clean quite often here.
A brother and sister from the cong (short for congregation) also came over with beer and chips. They were Tony and Michelle Elmer. I had been following Tony for some time on Instagram and had even talked once or twice through WhatsApp. He had a good eye for photography and a sense og humor I immediately understood. When I learned he listened not only to Weird Al Yankovic, but also to The Cybertronic Spree, I knew I had a close friend on my hands. Michelle showed me how to operate the washing machine, and even brought a bottle of detergent as a housewarming gift.
After a few beers, they left and Tim fired up the Barbie. He cooked Lamb and vegetables and began teaching me how to barbecue. This would prove to be an invaluable skill. We ate and then Tim asked which room I wanted and had me help him drag a nice, double bed into the carpeted room in front of the house where the air conditioner was. This feature would prove valuable for sleeping on very hot nights or wearing a tie and teaching on very hot days. I was given sheets, pillowcases, a bed spread, and something called a doona cover. I thanked Tim and then sheepishly asked Khiara what a doona cover was. Essentially its a cover for your bed spread so that you need only wash the cover and not the whole comforter. As the rain continued to come down, the breeze blew the curtains on each side of the open door leading to the well lit ranch porch. It was soothing, but the open door would lead to problems I would have to grapple with later. For now I’ll just say that foreign blood must be considered a delicacy for certain buzzing insects.
Certain other eight legged squatters were discovered in the bathroom and swiftly dealt with: black house spiders. Sealing up convenient entry points for bugs would quickly become a passion of mine. But for tonight the bed was soft, the breeze was pleasant, and I was tired. The spiders would wait.
