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Showing posts from April, 2012

The Day He Was Stolen...

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We packed up the Troupie and were off before Mother Sun reached her highest point, the day promised to be a scorcher.  After an hour we left the main road heading towards Alice Springs, though without Uncle Bob as a guide, we surely would have missed the slight break in the grass and the almost invisible red road snaking off through the scrub brush.  We came to a copse of unusual variation and we spotted wild emu and two kangaroo, though I doubt the different trees were out of the ordinary to these native inhabitants.  Our modern beast was entering a surface world largely untouched by time, but a landscape immersed in tragedy. As the road became rougher and the washouts forced us through untrodden Bush we would alternately slow to a crawl through the spinifex or go almost gangbusters through the soft sand.  If you stop in the soft sand, you stay stopped.  After a most harrowing moment where the truck stalled on a jagged ravine inches from a 6 foot drop we ...

A Letter to the Prime Minister

Brian just sent this letter to the Prime Minister of Australia and cc'd the White House: Prime Minister, My name is Brian Loftin. I am a US citizen.  On a recent visit to beautiful Australia, and specifically to Uluru, Mutitjulu, and Alice Springs I saw things that made me question the place of your country in the pantheon of "Great Nations," namely, the way your government is treating the Aboriginal People.  As an American, my complaints about the treatment of indigenous peoples are admittedly a bit like the crow calling the raven black, but we now live in the 21st century--not the 19th. Before my trip I acquainted myself with your policy of "Strong Futures" as well as much material relating to the past and current situations of the First People--including the virtual holocaust of the Stolen Generations. Seeing what is happening now in the wretchedly poor communities I listed above, seeing how the white people live comfortably nearby, seeing no equality in e...

Where to start?

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I have so much to say that I don't even know how to begin.  Should I start with the overwhelming amount of work to do that keeps getting interrupted by other things to do?  Or the devastating government legislation and their "stronger futures" that will only have the effect of decimating a culture?  The local land council's ignoring of protocol and lack of communication with the people they are supposed to represent?  And the huge amounts of money thrown to "Aboriginal affairs" which really goes to white "administrators" and their travel, housing, new car, stipend...because you've got to pay those people extra for working in such a remote and hostile environment?  Wow, it is really  hard to not be cynical. O.K., then let me balance that with the brightness of the Milky Way last night and it's sharp, glittering band of starlight, or the wedge-tail eagle we saw on the way back from Alice Springs surrounded by a sunset of fuschia and orange....

Our Welcome to Country

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After 36 hours of traveling (three planes and lots of layovers) we have arrived at Uluru.  The tiny Ayers Rock airport was the last vestige of air conditioning before stepping out into the 98 degree heat.  The stillness of the landscape is juxtaposed with a palpable vitality and living history, and our first stop from the airport was Anangu homelands of Uncle Bob Randall and his family.  Driving along the red track Uncle Bob was telling us the hopes and dreams for his family's land.  "The marker starts here, and then goes for as far as your eye can see." We then arrive at the spot where I learned how to cook a kangaroo tail three years ago, and now they've added to toilets and a little shelter for Grandmother Barbara to use when she comes out to teach.  Johnny, Uncle Bob's son, has been clearing  insidious non-native grass and the place looks amazing.  This is the spot where hopefully more groups will have the chance to experience the Anangu stori...