In the Outback

[squiffy2]

An Australian tour guide was showing a group of American tourists the
Top End On their way to Kakadu he was describing the abilities of the
Australian Aborigine to track man or beast over land, through the
air, under the sea.

The Americans were incredulous.

Then later in the day, the tour rounded a bend on the highway and
discovered, lying in the middle of the road, an Aborigine. He had one
ear pressed to the white line whilst his left leg was held high in
the air. The tour stopped and the guide and the tourists gathered
around the prostrate Aborigine.

"Jacky," said the tour guide, "what are you tracking and what are you
listening for?" The aborigine replied, "Down the road about 25 miles
is a 1971 Valiant Ute. It's red. The left front tyre is bald. The
front end is out of whack and it has dents in every panel. There are
9 blackfellas in the back, all drinking warm sherry. There are 3
kangaroos on the roof rack and 6 dogs on the front seat."

The American tourists moved forward, astounded by this precise and
detailed knowledge.

"Goddammit man, how do you know all that?" asked one. The Aborigine
replied, "I fell out of the bloody thing about half an hour ago!"

[Lara]

"We Are Going" - Oodgeroo Noonuccal

They came in to the little town
A semi-naked band subdued and silent
All that remained of their tribe.
They came here to the place of their old bora ground
Where now the many white men hurry about like ants.
Notice of the estate agent reads: 'Rubbish May Be Tipped Here'.
Now it half covers the traces of the old bora ring.
'We are as strangers here now, but the white tribe are the strangers.
We belong here, we are of the old ways.
We are the corroboree and the bora ground,
We are the old ceremonies, the laws of the elders.
We are the wonder tales of Dream Time, the tribal legends told.
We are the past, the hunts and the laughing games, the wandering camp fires.
We are the lightening bolt over Gaphembah Hill
Quick and terrible,
And the Thunderer after him, that loud fellow.
We are the quiet daybreak paling the dark lagoon.
We are the shadow-ghosts creeping back as the camp fires burn low.
We are nature and the past, all the old ways
Gone now and scattered.
The scrubs are gone, the hunting and the laughter.
The eagle is gone, the emu and the kangaroo are gone from this place.
The bora ring is gone.
The corroboree is gone.
And we are going.'

Oodgeroo Noonuccal (http://www.cit.gu.edu.au/~davidt/redlandbay/oodgeroo.htm)