The Man from Oodnadatta

All my reading for pleasure seems to be based around the people of the Centre.  At the moment I’m reading a biography of John Flynn – ‘John Flynn – Apostle to the Inland’ by W. Scott McPheat.  (See previous post about the Royal Flying Doctor Service)

The biography mentions a book written by Robert Bruce Plowman one of the early Patrol Padres - Presbyterian ministers who did their best to looked after the white folk in the remote areas.  In the style of John Flynn, this care extended to medical, dental, labouring, letter-writing, and spiritual – sometimes even church services.   Plowman was told to “Get a pipe and learn to smoke. It will be a good introduction to bush folk.”

Around 1913 Plowman’s beat ‘was a parallelogram extending roughly 400 miles north and south of Alice Springs, and 150 miles east and west.  In an area larger than that of the British Isles, the white population numbered 400.’(p. 73)  The current population of Alice Springs is 28,000.

Plowman wrote three novels, one of which was published in 1932 entitled ‘The Man from Oodnadatta’.  I was particularly impressed by the words quoted from the Foreward of that book, written by Professor Walter Murdoch: 

Our capital cities are mostly plagiarisms. If there is anything distinctively Australian, in nature or in human nature, to find it you will have to leave the city and wander in the outback.  If you shrink from wandering there in the literal sense – an enterprise not wholly free from inconveniences – you can at least wander there in imagination, companioned by the padre whose simple record lies before you.’

                                                                                                                             (McPheat p. 75)

Isn’t the first sentence brilliant!  I believe this whole observation is as relevant today as it was 80 years ago.  I’m privileged to be able to do my own wandering. If you don’t get to make the journey yourself, I’ll do my best to be your distant companion.

Now my challenge is to see if I can track down a copy of ‘The Man from Oodnadatta’ to add to my reading list!

Flat Battery

Nothing puts an instant stop to your day like a flat battery in the car first thing in the morning - in fact, any time.  After a quick call to make sure my regular passenger had a lift, I rang the local 'stranded drivers organisation' of which I am fortuantely a member - well, reciprocal member since I am interstate (should that be 'inter-territory'?).

I was parked in an access road behind my house, which I thought would pose no problen for a maintenance vehicle to pop along with the customary jumper leads to kick start the car.  After doing a few odd jobs sweeping the path etc, I decided I would make a cup of tea, because in my experience, that is guaranteed to speed things up, or at the very least, make the wait more pleasant. Three sips into the tea, I heard what sounded like a semi trailer drive up the street beside the house.  I wasn't far wrong!  No snappy little wagon built for jam-packed city streets - I'm in Alice Springs, and driving up the street was a rather large Outback Recovery truck of the sort need to return damaged or otherwise troubled vehicles of varying sizes from far afield places.  It seemd slight overkill for a flat battery, and it crossed my mind that access would be somewhat difficult.  Undaunted, the driver carried the necessary equipment up to my car - rather like a doctor with his bag. He jump started the car and told me where I could buy a replacement battery.

Forty minutes later, with a brand new battery fitted at two-thirds the price of the last one I got in Sydney, I was waiting to turn at a set of lights, and there was my knight in shining recovery truck with a 4WD firmly in place on the back of the truck.  We both waved and continued on to face the rest of the day.

I will get some jumper leads, but I'm almost glad I didn't have any today.  It was another classic moment in Alice.  May there be many more :)

My first AFL game

First of all I am delighted to be back on the net with my new Telstra mobile device :) I will be even more delighted if I continue to have 5 bars and can blog regularly.

Having grown up in Sydney, I was definitely a Rugby League girl pre-Super League.  I proudly supported my team - The Berries, and engaged in many debates about their virtues. In recent years I try to keep in touch enough to be able to follow conversations, and uphold my family's interest in the Raiders, for whom I have a soft spot from the Mal Meninga days.

I have resisted Swan fever, but in the Northern Territory, 'footy' means AFL, so I felt it was the right time to find out a little more about AFL.  There was a buzz of excitement in the air Friday afternoon as we headed to Traegar Park for the game between the Indigenous All Stars and Richmond.  Naturally, I was going for the All Stars, as was the majority of the crowd - around 8000, I understand. Not surprisingly, it was a warm night with the most beautiful deep blue sky, and our grassy patch afforded us a perfect view of the West Macs and Mt Gillen.

It's a very long time since I've been to any football match - I would guess at least a couple of decades, and I was keen to see why there are so many converts to AFL around Australia.  Fortunately, I was in good company, as I had a work colleague to explain the general rules, and I think we even touched on a few of the finer points of the game. I was treated to a fairly free-flowing game with some
impressive teamwork.  It was a much quieter affair than I had anticipated, but I suspect that was because their was little rivalry amongst the spectators.

I thoroughly enjoyed the game, the company, the atmosphere, and the peacefulness of the evening. What a great way to start the weekend! 

I'm not sure I'm about to become an addict, but I have developed a little more respect for AFL, and certainly for the fitness of the players and officials, and I was delighted the All Stars beat Richmond 90-40.

To start the game, the coin was tossed by a young Aboriginal school boy, who apparently was chosen for the fact that he had been at school that day and happily related what he had learnt.  I'm sure he'll remember tossing the coin for a long time - maybe longer than he remembers what he learnt that day!