Chapter 24: Decisions, decisions

Perhaps the most important difference between Aboriginal marriage patterns and those of white Australia is that the marriage is not seen as a contract between individuals but rather as one which implicates both kin and country men of the parties involved. If we explore the web of relations which surround an arranged marriage entered into at the time of initiation of a young male, we find that at least three generations are implicated. [D. Bell, NT Supreme Court, May 1984]

“You really want to marry me?”

“I’ve no answer. I’m expecting to be with you. I don’t care whether we undergo some rite – Adnyamathanha or other.”

Walking back to the hotel, Tessa explained her need to talk to her grandfather. Sam, after all, had spoken to his and Patrick, too, had enquired about matrimony. Luckily, Tessa’s parents had already met Sam.

“OK. I’ve an idea, if everything works out.”

“Shoot.”

“Let’s take a month – say June – and drive to Iga Warta. We can talk to your parents and grandfather and observe whatever Adnyamathanha rite seems appropriate. Then we drive to Armidale, check out the university, look at housing and (possibly) rent something. Then we drive down to Sydney, have a civil ceremony with my family here, and arrange for my books and stuff to get to Armidale.”

“Actually, that makes sense. It might fit Aesop.”

“Elucidate.”

“Aesop tells: A Tortoise desired to change its place of residence, so he asked an Eagle to carry him to his new home, promising her a rich reward for her trouble. The Eagle agreed and seizing the Tortoise by the shell with her talons soared aloft. On their way they met a Raven, who said to the Eagle: ‘Tortoise is good eating.’ ‘The shell is too hard,’ said the Eagle in reply. ‘The rocks will soon crack the shell,’ was the Raven’s answer; and the Eagle, taking the hint, let fall the Tortoise on a sharp rock, and the two birds made a hearty meal of the Tortoise.”

“I’ll bet the moral doesn’t fit us.”

“You’re right. It’s ‘Never soar aloft on an enemy’s pinions.’ But I don’t know another Eagle and Raven story. Actually, Levi-Strauss says that Ravens, like Coyotes are mediators between this world and the other, because they eat carrion. Because they can talk – or learn to talk – Ravens can foresee.”

“Where’s that?”

“Structural Anthropology. It’s around 60 years old. It might not be current any more. I read Gordy’s copy a while back.”

“If we go to UNE, you’re going to be a terror in class.”

“Will you be OK tomorrow?’ Sam asked, changing topic.

“Yes. I want to go to see what’s on in the Yiribana Gallery.”

“Oh. Rachel likes it. I’m sure I was dragged there when I was little. It’s all from the north.”

Known as the Yiribana Gallery, this space presents a selection of works from our Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander collection. Yiribana means ‘this way’ in the language of the Eora people and acknowledges the location of the gallery on Gadigal land. Representing artists from communities across Australia, it celebrates Indigenous Australia’s enduring cultural heritage and its myriad contemporary expressions. AGNSW catalogue

“Armidale will be a good place to spend the next few years,” Gordy said when he met Sam.

“What does that mean?”

“It’s nearly a kilometer up. After 2030, I don’t think most of the coastal cities will be fun.”

“That’s nearly everywhere.”

“Canberra and Wagga Wagga and Bathurst. Maybe Mount Gambier. Nothing else with as many as 30000 folks. The Alice is barely 25.”

“You really think the coastline’s doomed?’

“Yes. If not by 2030, certainly by 2050. I can see the Aborigine bands surviving. But over 85% of Australians live in cities. And Canberra’s the only city that won’t be inundated as the sea level climbs. And the capital’s barely 400,000. Even if the rise is only 35 meters...” Gordy shook his head. “Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, and Perth are over half of the country. Adelaide’s the fifth largest.”

“How high will it go?”

“I’ve no idea. Think of it the other way ‘round. We know that 20,000 years ago, at the end of the last Ice Age, the ocean was about 120 meters lower than it is now. There are Dreamtime stories of bands living where the Great Barrier Reef is; of Fitzroy Island connected to the mainland, of the Yorke Peninsula, west of Adelaide, being part of a vast fresh water marsh. And as we know that the Greenland and the Antarctic ice and many glaciers are melting, the water will rise.”

Sunshine Coast University marine geographer Patrick Nunn and University of New England linguist Nicholas Reid believe that 21 Indigenous stories from across the continent faithfully record events between 18,000 and 7000 years ago, when the sea rose 120m. The Guardian 16 Sept. 2015

“Wonderful.”

“I won’t see it.”

“Tessa and I will. But it won’t be like On the Beach.”

“Probably not. But who knows what over-stressed politicos and militarists will do. When part of New York, most of Boston and Philadelphia, Washington, and Miami in the east; Vancouver, Seattle, San Francisco, Los Angeles, and San Diego in the west; and New Orleans begin to flood and the millions in those and other American cities can’t get food, there might be war. Or wars. We can only hope. Here we are!”

“Where?”

“George told me that this dealer had a very low kilometer repo.”

“Thanks, George.” George grinned at Sam.

A week later, Tessa and Sam were on their way to Wagga Wagga in a grey Toyota 4x4 that had just under 30,000 kilometers on it. They’d left Sydney around ten and were now stopping in Goulburn – at Trappers Bakery – for lunch. Tessa was looking at the map of New South Wales.

“If we fill up, we should be at the Best Western before four.”

“You’ll enjoy Wagga Wagga,” Sam said, grinning.

“What’s the joke?”

“‘Wagga’ means crow in Wiradjuri. It’s the Place of Many Crows.”

“Wait till I find a place called Hawk Crap!”

“Can I refer to this as our first argument?”

“No.” Tessa smiled. “That’s my job. I’ll let you know when it’s an argument. And then you can go off to the pub to drink with your unsavory chums!”

“I don’t have any ‘unsavory chums’.”

“Well, you’d best get some, then! I’m going to be busy trying to refold this map!” They both broke out laughing. They spent the night in Wagga and started out in grey overcast for Mildura, but they encountered rain for most of the over six hour drive. Sam got soaked while refueling and was grouchy when they arrived. He showered, dried and put on dry clothing, but the couple decided to press on in the morning and not investigate the Murray and the town in wet weather. So they pressed on to Orroroo in the morning, stopping for lunch at Backyard Bread in Barmera, the rain stopped, the clouds vanished and the sun reappeared.

“I consider this a direct function of entering and leaving Victoria,” Tessa said.

“Oh? Have you any evidence?”

“Sure. It was overcast, but dry in New South Wales. It’s dry here in South Australia. It was pouring rain in Victoria. Yet Barmera is no higher than Mildura. QED.”

“Excellent, Holmes! Remind me to get you a deerstalker.”

“And a briar pipe?”

“And a Turkish slipper in which to stow your tobacco!”

After lunch, they climbed from under 50 meters to 500.

“Do you know anything about Orroroo?” Sam asked.

“Only that Ingamells was from there.”

“Ingamells?”

“He was a poet in the mid-twentieth century. We read part of a long poem about Australia by him in school. He started some movement that I know nothing about and was killed in an auto accident.”

“Very succinct obit.”

“Hey! It’s better than nothing.”

“You’re right. I’m getting tired of driving. You want to do it tomorrow? Orroroo to Iga Warta.”

“Sure. We can lunch in Hawker or in Parachilina and get home by six, maybe earlier.”

“Call your folks so they know.”

They had lunch at the Prairie Hotel in Parachilina and parked at Iga Warta at just 1700. Tessa’s parents were glad to see her and seem happy to see Sam again. Later, Tessa mentioned that she wanted her grandfather to “approve” of their marrying.

“And you?” asked Tessa’s mother.

“Tessa, I don’t know what to say. Can a man speak to his mother-in-law among your people?”

“Of course! We Adnyamathanha are not of that view of familial conversation.”

“Thank you. Then, yes, I want the family to approve of us. I am already of several cultures. One of my grandmothers was Japanese. But my father is Dayah Minyah...”

“I don’t know those words.”

“Oh. He is a Carpet Python. I am a Wedge-Tail. Tessa is a Raven. Potoroo said that Raven leads Eagle.”

“Not quite,” Tessa said. “But close.”

“Want us to be Us. I will not do this without your – uh – blessing.”

“You can have parental approval now. Ask grandfather tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

“So, you both goin’ to school?”

“To the university, grandfather,” said Tessa.

“An’ you be married whitefella-style, too?”

“We plan to. In Sydney. Where Sam’s mum, dad and grandfather live.”

“Hmm. What university?”

“The University of New England. It’s in Armidale in NSW.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s a bit more than two hours from Grafton and near six to Sydney.”

“Hmm. You gonna study three-four years?”

“Yes, sir.” “Yes, grandfather.”

“Then you bring me grandkids?”

“Certainly.”

“OK then. I got no problem. You fine boy. Tessa fine girl.”

“Should we do anything special? For the Adnyamathanha?”

“No. Take care of her. Be good to her. Tessa take care of you. Tessa be good and give you babies.” He fidgeted a bit and leaned back further to get the sun, dismissing the couple.

“Do you have any suitcases or boxes we can pack your stuff into?”

“I’ve two pieces of baggage, and I’m sure there are some dry cartons.”

“When should we pack?”

“I think we should stay a few days. Maybe a week.”

“OK. Do you have your papers from school?”

“Of course. And my birth certificate, too. We’ll need things for applications and registration.”

“Right.”

Sam spent two days helping the family refurbish some of the cabins. He managed to bang his thumb only once, much to others’ amusement. Tessa spent several days with the older women, acquiring that knowledge they had to pass on. One of Tessa’s brothers expressed sympathy for Sam’s inability to run fast enough to escape his sister. That was thought to be very funny. All in all, they spent one night over a week at Iga Warta.

Tessa’s books and such occupied two packing boxes. Nearly all of her clothing went into a large suitcase plus her backpack. They didn’t have any problem getting it into the boot.

There were no tears, but there were a lot of handshakes and Sam received some hearty shoulder claps. They took five days to get to Armidale, stopping in Orroroo, Broken Hill, Cobar, and Tamworth, trading off the driving and not really pushing themselves.

On Wednesday, 20 June, they were getting near Armidale on the New England Highway. Tessa noted that they were coming to the airport on their left and that it wasn’t far to UNE, but also that there weren’t a lot of places to stay.

“There must be some,” said Sam, “Just keep your eyes open.” They passed the university, then a high school.

“Make the next right.”

“It’s a roundabout, we’ll go three-quarters clockwise.”

“OK. And here we are!” Ahead on the right was Deer Park Motor Inn.

They registered for two nights, planning to seek other quarters if necessary. In the morning they drove onto the UNE campus, located the registrar’s office in the Lambie building, and spent a remarkably short time filling out application forms supplied by a rather brusque older clerk. However a student aide only a few years older than they were proved far more helpful. Most importantly, he pointed out that they could enrol for Trimester 2, which would begin on July 9^th.