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" Four hours later, we pulled up to a corrugated tin
structure. A small, smouldering fire burned outside, and two Aboriginal women
stood up as we approached. They were both middle-aged, short, scantily clad,
wearing warm smiles of welcome. One wore a headband that made her thick, curly
black hair escape at strange angles. They both appeared slim and athletic, with
round, full faces holding bright brown eyes. As I descended from the jeep, my
chauffeur said, "By the way, I am the only one who speaks English. I will be
your interpreter, your friend. "
"Great!" I thought to myself. "I've spent seven
hundred dollars on airfare, hotel room, and new clothes for this introduction
to native Australians, and now I find out they can't even speak English, let
alone recognize current fashions. "
Well, I was here, so I might as well try to blend
in, although in my heart I knew I could not.
The women spoke in blunt foreign sounds that did not
seem like sentences, only single words. My interpreter turned to me and
explained that permission to attend the meeting required I first be cleansed. I
did not understand what he meant. It was true I was covered with several layers
of dust and hot from the ride, but that did not seem to be his meaning. He
handed me a piece of cloth, which I opened to discover had the appearance of a
wraparound rag. I was told I needed to remove my clothing and put it on.
"What?" I asked, unbelieving. "Are you serious?" He sternly repeated the
instructions. I looked around for a place to change; there was none. What could
I do? I had come too far and endured too much discomfort at this point to
decline. The young man walked away. "Oh, what the heck. It will be cooler than
these clothes," I thought. So, as discreetly as possible, I removed my soiled
new clothing, folded it neatly into a pile, and donned the native attire. I
stacked my things on the nearby boulder, which only moments before had served
as a stool for the waiting women. I felt silly in the colourless rag and
regretted investing in the new "make a good impression" clothing. The young man
reappeared. He, too, had changed clothing. He stood before me almost naked,
having only a cloth wrapped around in swimming trunk fashion and barefoot, as
were the women at the fire. He issued further instructions to remove
everything: shoes, hose, undergarments, and all my jewellery, even the bobby
pins holding my hair. My curiosity was slowly fading, and apprehension was
taking over, but I did as told. I remember stuffing my jewellery into the toe
of my shoe. I also did something that seems to come naturally to females,
although I am sure we are not taught to do it; I placed my underwear in the
middle of the stack of clothing.
A blanket of thick gray smoke rose from the
smouldering coals as fresh green brush was added. The headbanded woman took
what appeared to be the wing from a large black hawk and opened it to form a
fan. She flapped it in front of me from face to feet. The smoke swirled,
stifling my breath. Next she motioned with an index finger in a circular
pattern, which I understood to mean "turn around." The smoke ritual was
repeated behind me. Then I was instructed to step across the fire, through the
smoke.
Finally I was told I had been cleansed and received
permission to enter the metal shed. As the bronze male escort walked with me
around to the entrance, I saw the same woman pick up my entire stack of
belongings. She held it up above the flames. She looked at me, smiled, and as
our eyes acknowledged one another, she released the treasures in her hands.
Everything I owned went into the fire!
For a moment my heart was numb; I took a very deep
sigh. I don't know why I didn't shout a protest and immediately run to retrieve
everything. But I didn't. The woman's facial expression indicated her action
was not malicious; it was done in the manner one might offer a stranger some
unique sign of hospitality. "She is just ignorant," I thought. "Doesn't
understand about credit cards and important papers." I was grateful I had left
my airline ticket at the hotel. I knew I had other clothes there too, and
somehow I would deal with walking through the lobby dressed in this garb when
the time came....
These people believe everything exists on the planet
for a reason. Everything has a purpose. There are no freaks, misfits, or
accidents. There are only misunderstandings and mysteries not yet revealed to
mortal man... " |
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