Tête en bas

Down under wandering. Archipelagoes to islands; beaches to deserts; mountains to cities.

Archive for the ‘Almost sounds like philosophia’ Category

About australian legends and culture

  • English: About australian legends and culture
  • Français: About australian legends and culture

It was a legend before it even exists. Scientists, explorers, all agreed that there must be a land in the middle of the never-ending indian ocean. There should be something to equilibrate the mass in the Northern Hemisphere. Terra Incognita Australis. Lots of people have been looking for it. Some even find it without knowing it, following coast they believe was some islands. It took a long time before a english ship finally arrive in Sydney Harbor. It was just the beginning of the legend.

I finally understand one of the thing that I was fascinated by in Australia, without really noticing it. Red Dog, the most trustful dog in the world, Stuart the crazy explorer, Pharlop the horse who wan all the races, Jon Lasseters’s Gold… I don’t really feel that there’s an australian history. Instead, there’s hips of australian histories. Like if Australia was just a never ending flows of anecdotes. Normal people, normal animals, becoming legends by the way the act, by the way the behave, by what they do, by what they find. It’s not the way event follow one after an other that interest people. It’s all those little piece of time, who are part of a collective memory, and who build australian history, culture and identity.

“There’s no culture in Australia”. I’ve heard that a couple of time. It was one of the main argument to explain why someone was not interest by the country. Each time I heart it, I feel perplex. First, because by saying so, you deny 40,000 years of aboriginal story. The oldest still alive culture on earth. Also, because each time I want to ask “but what’s culture exactly ?”. And I still wonder… is it when you have old building in every city? Statues in your park? Famous artists? Creativity everywhere? Festivals all year long? Museum? Except for the old building -obviously- I’ve fond everything else in Australia. Maybe it’s not as obvious as in other place. You don’t have Le Louvre and La Joconde every street corner. There was no philosopher “des lumières” neither there was a renaissance. Does having culture mean “being old?” I’ve been in contact with stories, books, movies, places, museums, festivals, cities, bands, that all give me the same feeling: australian are creatives too, they have imagination and idea.

Of course, here, everything is new. Despite the sand and the desert, australian histories are not covered with dust. They are still alive, you can still touch them. All is fresh in peoples memories. Time didn’t carved all that. And because it’s so young, legends seem brighter, nicer, truer. We can still live them. When was the last european legend? How many centuries of dust covered the stories of the old continent? Why giving so much importance to a dusty past when future is waiting for you? Not having a past doesn’t mean that you don’t exist!

Man has been talking about american dream for a long time. You could go to the states, start a new life, win a lot of money. We never talk about the australian dream, and I just start to feel it. Here, legends are so young that they are still alive. So young, that you still have new legends coming to life. If you take the time to come here, listen, feel, discover, you’ll see that australians still have hips of place for new legends. And you can even be one of them if you want!

The storyteller in me loves the lightness of australian History. You’re not overwhelmed by its omnipresence. He likes this anecdotic feeling. He likes talking about australian stories instead of History. He likes to discover that Australia is a little bit what Fred Pellerin is doing for St Elie de Caxton. But at the scale of a continent.

The absolute perfection of a night in a swag

  • English: The absolute perfection of a night in a swag
  • Français: The absolute perfection of a night in a swag

I’m losing my words. I just don’t know how to describe this amazing feeling I have, every night, when comes the time to go to sleep. I was used to go to bed; sometime reading a little before trying to fall asleep, watching a blank roof. For the last ten days or so, my roof is made of thousands of stars. I stare at the most amazing starry skys I’ve ever seen. Milky way is there, night after night. So intense that I’ve been wondering a few time if it was not a cloud… Every evening, I’m not counting sheep to fall asleep, but shooting stars. Only two or three some evening, up to fifteen during other nights. It’s always magic. Each time I’m watching the sky, I have this little down, already knowing that it’s going to be one of the thing I’ll be missing the most after Australia. These never ending sky, sparkling with thousands of stars.

But the magic doesn’t stop there. There’s always those moment where we wake up, in the middle of the night, for no reason. Instead of trying to find an other position to go back to sleep as soon as possible, I just enjoy taking my time again. Being amazed by the show. And then, you have the moon, that always rise at sometime. It was full not so long ago. I’ve been watching her, getting smaller, day after day. Today, it was nothing less than a thin line in the sky. Tomorrow, she’ll be new.

Sometime, you also have the howling of the dingos, in the middle of the night. They sound a lot like wolves. You can hear them for a little while, before they stop. It reminds me the coyotes, I seldom heard while traveling in North America. In Kings Canyon, I heard them welcoming the moon in the sky, in a way no man would ever be able to copy. At the Devil Marbles, there’s only a lonely dingo. He still howls, from time to time, in the middle of the night.

The show ends with the rising of the sun. I always wake up a few minutes before. Just on time to see this amazing ball of light rising over the horizon. Sometime, I fall asleep, and wake up again later. Today, I wake up long before. The sky was black, with this amazing orange gradient. I’ve seen him slowly changed, to have colors I’ve never seen before. Black and orange just fit so perfectly well… and finally, one hour later, I saw the first shine of the sun. I watched him raise, one more time. Thanking him, as I always do. Those who knows the story will understand…

We were sleeping on the top of the Marbles. First tourists arrived a little bit after that, waving to us. Asking us how we slept. If the view worsted it. Of course, it worsted it. I didn’t watch TV as they did, in there so comfy king size bed with integrate heater. No, I was just watching the sky, counting the shooting stars. I heard the first sing of the birds, as they were waking up, one after an other.

I would have love to spend the whole day here. But Sara would like to arrive in Katherine soon, in order to go back to Darwin to catch her flight back. It’s a compromise. A hard one. I would love to see my sky. One more time. Well… there will be other opportunities…

It’s long after noon when we finally leave the Devils Marbles

Uluru, the way I see it

  • English: Uluru, the way I see it
  • Français: Uluru, the way I see it

New day, new talk, with two aboriginals this time, at Uluru culture center. They talk about the plants and the seeds they use, about their history too. A little. They tell us some stories about the place. If the guy seems to be happy and to enjoy the situation, the woman looks sad and nostalgic. I can easily understand why. The day before, the ranger told us “there’s no more ceremonies at Uluru. Now, ceremonies are held in Kata Tjuta. Because they can last for up to 3 months, which doesn’t work with tourists. A part of Kata Tjuta is forbidden to white fellows. It’s a compromise”. The word staid in my mind. Trying to see where was the compromise. I’m trying to imagine, telling catholics “you have to leave the Vatican, but instead, we leave you a little bit of Notre Dame for your mass”. I’m trying to see the compromise, but I can’t see it. I just see that aboriginal are doing their best to keep a little bit of a really important place for them. Uluru is “cultural patrimonies of the world” according to Unesco. We’re not talking about a natural wonder or something like that. We’re talking about culture. “Uluru is like the bible of the aboriginal people, except we can’t print it, we can’t move it”. It has been build by their own ancestors. Every holes in the rock, every color on the rock, have a story that link them to the past. We’re talking about the “creation time”. We can’t say “dream time” anymore. It’s not politically correct. Because “dream” does not sounds as real as “creation”. I don’t care. I still prefer talking about “dream time”. I find it much more beautiful. During the dream time, aboriginal ancestors were living here. They were much more bigger. And polymorph. Sometime animals, sometime humans, sometime plants. You can see here the python eggs. There, it’s an impact of a spear. And there it’s the burning skin of a snake.

Aboriginal did not live in Uluru. They were living in the plains, nomads following the food. When children were old enough to be initiate to the rite that will made them adult, they had to go to the rock with there grand parents. Uluru was frighting them. Uluru was impressive. Going there meant that you were about to leave childhood. But also that you were going to spend time inside the rock. Lessons were giving in small cave on the side of the rock. Imagine that you’ve been living outside all your life, and that you’re suddenly inside this huge symbol. You can’t see outside anymore. You’re cut from everything you used to know…

I’m writing a few days after being there. I’ve been sleeping in a swag for a little bit more than 10 days now. Looking at the stars. Days after days. And enjoying the taste of the first sunshine every morning. After only 10 days, I declined an invitation to sleep inside, in a warm place. Because I don’t want to sleep inside anymore. I’m just really happy outside. After only 10 days.

Australian government decided to help the aboriginal, to “civilized” them. They built communities. They built houses. Aboriginal didn’t understand what it was. They kept sleeping outside. Still today, lots of the aboriginals who come to town (Alice Springs) still sleep outside. In the dry bed of the river, with a fire on there side.

The first time I came to Uluru, with Cassie, I was planning to climb to the top. I wanted to enjoy the view we can have from there. It was, for me, a way to have a communion with the rock. To feel it all around me. And it’s also because I can’t see a mountain without climbing it. It’s not forbidden. There’s a way to the top. Lot of people take it. But at the beginning of the climb, there’s this sign “please, don’t climb Uluru. It’s a sacred place for us, and when there is accident, it makes us very sad”. “Sad”… that’s the word that changed my mind. It was not about being chocked, or aggressed, or frustrated. It was just sadness. But why not completely forbid the access to the top? One of the back fellow explains it really well. “You can’t force people to respect something with a law. You can have people respect by teaching and education. By asking people to make a choice. Not by forcing it. That’s the reason we don’t want to forbid climbing the rock. We want people to understand and respect our culture”. What aboriginal also try to explain to tourists is “Tjukurpa”. It’s the basement of the society, of the religion, of the law, of the moral and the culture of the Anangu peoples (the aboriginal tribes leaving in central Australia). Aboriginals learn it slowly. Starting when they are young, and learning it, year after year. What tourists learn is the children stories. They are teaching the link between the human, the plants, the animals, and the earth. Tjukurpa tells about creation of all the living species and the landscape. Tjukurpa teach aboriginal how to behave all together. Tjukurpa is the Law. There way of life. There way to be. They just ask us to understand it. Because as one of the aboriginal said, “white culture is number one. Black culture is number one. Because there’s no culture more important than the other. They are all equal”. But on this point, I think tourists need much much more education…

The first time I went to Uluru, it sounds absolutely normal for me to come here, to walk around, and to check there sacred site without asking myself any question. I was even planed, as I said, to have a look to the top. And then, they taught me. I’ve been listening with my eyes and my ears wide open. Fascinated, as I was discovering the oldest still alive culture. A culture who, even being 40,000 years old, still change. “The inside of the rock is black. The outside is red. Uluru knew that white men where coming” (white men who are really often red, indeed, in the middle of the desert). The rock is amazing from far away. From closer, the contact is different. Much more intimate. At least, intimate when you don’t have those flows of tourists walking around, chatting, shooting, laughing. What they want is just a picture of them, in front of the most famous monolith in the world. I realize, today, that I hope Uluru will be closed to tourists one day. Or open only with a long brief before. I wish the aboriginals have this sacred place back to them. So amazing, so important for them. We can enjoy the rock from far away. Just being amaze by its beautifulness, so that black fellows can keep it for them. No one would say “no, sorry, you can’t tell mass anymore, because people must be able to visit the cathedral any time”. But no one is chocked that it happens here. I’ve been educated, and I understand. And I’m a bit sad. That’s one of the reason I wanted to work as a tour guide. To share this knowledge. To educate people. The ranger who gave the talk yesterday doesn’t go to the place who use to be for men only. People here are learning. Some tourists too. But definitely not enough.

Wish all of you a great solstice

Should it be a summer one or a winter one! Never forget how awesome the sun is, and how magical the moment you share with him can be.

A place of perfect balance: Douglas Hot Springs

  • English: A place of perfect balance: Douglas Hot Springs
  • Français: A place of perfect balance: Douglas Hot Springs

I consider myself to be well balanced. I like this word, as in french, libra -my astrological sign- translate in “balance”. I do not believe in astrologic, but still like this coincidence. I’m not talking about being mentally balanced (hope I am!) but elemental balance. I’m feeling as strongly linked with water and fire, with air and earth. I like free diving as I like fire breathing. I like flying a kite as I like seating in the dust in the middle of the desert. I like being happy, wherever I am.

I was talking with Mara about Crater Lake, in Oregon. Probably one of the place I’ve find myself the most in peace. Air is absolutely transparent in perfect purity. As is the water of the lake. The rim cliffs, forming the caldera, embrace everything is a strong and unbreakable hug. The volcano’s fire calm down, a long time ago. But you can still feel it, everywhere around you. Is the creative fire, at the beginning of this perfect place. You can’t ignore it. I haven’t been to so many place where or the element mixes in such a perfect harmony. And that in those kind of place I feel in perfect harmony with my surrounding. In those kind of place that I can feel so strongly my own balance.

I slept in the back of the truck, with a amazing view on the sky. I heard a few times that Kakadu was one of the best place to look to a starry night. The park is not so far from here, and I guess we can enjoy the same awesome view. I’ve never seen so many starts before. Even the milky way is so intense that you can almost believe it’s a could in the sky. I didn’t really sleep during the night. I was just so happy… I still trust life, and she’s still giving back. I’m not asking anything else. Almost…

I wake up a little bit before sunrise. Took my camera, my flute and my didgeridoo. The water, the vapor twirling, the sandy ground and the trees around, the warmth, coming straight from the heart of the earth. I find my balance again. I find an other place where I’m in perfect harmony with my surrounding. The slowly howling of the didgeridoo just fits perfectly with the twirling of hot vapor.

Je me revendique comme une personne extrêmement équilibrée. Pour ça, j’aime bien utiliser le terme anglais « balanced » qui, même si je ne crois toujours pas en l’astrologie, convient très bien à la balance que je suis. Je ne parle pas d’un équilibre mental (que je pense quand même avoir !) mais d’un équilibre élémentaire. Je me sens autant en lien avec l’eau qu’avec le feu, avec l’air qu’avec la terre. J’aime faire de l’apnée et cracher du feu. J’aime faire voler un cerf volant et m’asseoir dans la poussière au milieu du désert. J’aime être heureux, peu importe l’endroit où je me trouve.

Je parlais avec Mara de Crater Lake, dans l’Oregon. Sans doute l’un des endroits où je me suis trouvé le plus en paix avec moi même. L’air est absolument transparent. D’une pureté parfaite. Tout comme l’eau du lac. Les lignes de crêtes déchiquetées des montagnes, et les falaises qui forment le cratère englobe le tout, dans un écrin qui semble indestructible. Le feu du volcan s’est apaisé il y a longtemps de cela. Mais on le sent toujours, tout autour de nous. Il est le feu créateur, à l’origine de cet endroit parfait. On ne peut l’ignorer. Je n’ai pas rencontré beaucoup de lieu où tout les éléments se rencontrent avec une telle harmonie. Ce sont dans les endroits comme ça que je me sens en complète communion avec ce qui m’entoure. Que je redécouvre mon propre équilibre intérieur.

J’ai dormi à l’arrière du camion, avec une vue imprenable sur le ciel. J’avais entendu dire depuis longtemps que Kakadu était l’un des plus beaux endroits pour observer le ciel. Je ne suis qu’à quelques centaines de kilomètres du parc. Je pense profiter du même ciel parfait. Jamais je n’ai vu autant d’étoiles. La voie lactée est tellement présente que l’on pense voir un nuage au milieu du ciel. Je n’ai pas vraiment dormi de la nuit. J’étais juste heureux, et bien. Je continue de faire confiance en la vie, elle continue à me le rendre. Je ne demande rien de plus. Ou presque…

Je me suis levé un peu avant le soleil. Mes parents vont bientôt devoir demander un exorcisme je crois. J’ai attrapé mon appareil photo, ma flûte, et mon didgéridoo. L’eau, les volutes de vapeur, le sol sableux et les arbres tout autour, la chaleur du ventre de la terre. J’ai retrouvé mon équilibre. J’ai trouvé un autre endroit où je suis bien. Où l’harmonie des éléments me permet de me dissiper doucement dans tout ce qui m’entoure. Le lent bourdonnement du didgéridoo s’est marié à merveille avec les volutes d’eau chaude.

Douglas Hot Springs

  • English: Douglas Hot Springs
  • Français: Douglas Hot Springs

Statement number 1 : improvisation is always better with constraints
Statement number 2 : what you give will come back to you

Mara had decided to leave earlier. She has two friends driving to Darwin on saturday night, planing to stop in Douglas Hot Springs on there way, in order to be on time at the airport on monday. Perfect for her. There might be a room for me if I want to come. I’m not sure. I prefer to tell her goodbye now. I know she’s already gone. And it’s hard to be with someone who’s not here…

She realized that she won’t be able to take her bag that we left with Alex and Petrina. She needs a solution. She’s not sure. I propose to be the solution. I just have to take her bag to the airport on monday evening. Hitch hiking with my bag and hers might be a little bit difficult. But she really wants to stop at the Hot Springs. And I’m more than happy to give that to her. I’ll find a solution. Everything will be alright.

On sunday morning, Bec give me a ride back to Katherine, in the car Toni -one of the festival organizer- lent her. As we’re driving back, my brain just had the good idea to have a great idea, connecting everything together… what if I rent a car for three days when I arrive in Katherine. I’ll have the time to discover the gorges, spend some time in Kakadu, and drop Mara’s bag at the airport. Definitely easier. Or… even better. I just have to go to the hot spring, find her there, and won’t even have to go to Darwin. I juggling with distances, times, dates… I can rent the car in Katherine and drop it in Katherine. Don’t need to go up to Darwin to take the train. Everything is just perfect! We meet Toni, in order to give her the car back. You won’t have anything if you don’t try anything. I ask Toni if I can lend the car for a few days. Paying her art company instead of a rental company. She’s okay, but I’ll have to wait until the end of the day. Perfect for me. Just have a quiet day in Katherine. I like this option.

I like the way everything just fit together. Adding a constraint that create a great solution. Helping at the festival, and being help back after that.

I jump into the car, heading to Douglas Hot Springs. Arrive there a few hours later, by night. I was thinking to arrive there, in a little quiet place. Finding ten peoples around a bone fire, and just say “hi Mara”. It’s a 3 days long week end. There’s more than a hundred cars in the camping. People and tents everywhere. I have no idea what I’m supposed to look for. I drive slowly, but it won’t work this way. Park the car, and start walking. Will be easier. Luck is on my side, one more time. I find Mara in less than 5 minutes.

I like to appear at the light of a campfire, playing to flute to introduce quietly myself. I don’t have this opportunity so often… I heard Mara saying “that’s beautiful”. She has not realize yet. But then, she recognize the sounds, and turn back, surprise. I’m happy to create those kind of surprise. To do some magic. I’m happy to see her again.

One week of perfect happiness

  • English: One week of perfect happiness
  • Français: One week of perfect happiness

What should I say, where should I start… I recognize I don’t really know. The week that’s just ending has kind of change my life. On the more positive way. I realize that since I’ve left Melbourne, a big part of my travel has become a personal journey. Meetings after meetings, amazing experiences ate amazing experiences… at such a hight speed! All that make me think, and think, and think. I’m becoming an endless stream of idea, inspirations and thoughts. My brain is just bubbling every where. I just regret I didn’t have the time to write all that goes through my mind on the last few days.

Mara has been the perfect conclusion of this interior journey. Mara who lives in a world that fascinated me. A world of energy, love, spirit, sharing… always connected to earth and air. Mara and her wandering flute… yes, I’ve find in her a spiritual guide. During one week, I’ve been a continuous stream of questions. I felt so many time as a child, eager to learn everything. « why… ? ». Mara give me back a lot of question too. Trying to know my own opinion, my own way of seeing things. Our two worlds have been facing each other. I recognize that mine is more rational, more reel. But is becoming more and more a non material one. This energy, that comes from people, from places, I’ve been feeling it for a long time now. I’ve always doubt of it. Always trying to find a explanation that would please my ex scientific brain. I’ve stop doubting. I’ve stop trying to find an explanation. I’ve just accept the way it is. Everything is energy. Any scientist will confirm that. You just need to find how sensitive you are to those energies. I’m sur that Mara, and the red heart of Australia, have both been a catalyzer on me. I’m feeling more. I’m more aware. I’m more open. And I’m really interest to see how I’m going to use all that. I’m finally awake.

There are lots of truth in this world. Everyone has its own, and I thing that lots of those truth are real and accurate. I’ve been wandering around the world for quiet a while know, looking for my own truth. I don’t agree with Mara on everything. My own truth is taking its own shape slowly. Yes, I’m still a learning kid. I don’t want to be put in a box. I don’t want to become the perfect hippie. Mara is no caricature. Mara is an archetype. I take in the hippie move what I like, what I’m interested in. Specially if I discover it by myself. And I leave what I don’t like. I’m still enjoying burgers. I don’t eat any seeds, or vitamins complement. I still enjoy gluten. And the word “mushroom” still make me think of “salad”. I don’t believe in spiritual elevation using drugs. I want to be awake, but by myself, with no drug involved. I’ll go at my own speed. But I often forget my shoes when I go for a walk. Walking barefoot remind me nice childhood memories. I’ve never stopped to love sunrise and sunset, and when the moon rise, I’m often watching the horizon line.

At Wide Open Space festival, a perfect morning music (understand “dubstep”) made me practice the staff just as I woke up, just for the pleasure of doing it. I’ve started doing it again. For one week now, my day starts with half an hour of staff practicing. Some didge too, i I have the time. This morning, after a little while, I even stop using the staff, to be more free to dance. With a perfect argument: “I dancing give me so much energy, why am I only dancing from 11 PM to 2 AM ?”. I don’t do any tai chi, or morning yoga. I’ve find my own receipt. My own truth. By myself, just randomly. And I love going this way.

The week end up on a fireworks, at Barunga festival. An aboriginal culture and sport festival. Mara really wanted to come, and I liked the program. There was no reason not to come! Alex and Petrina (with whom we really had an awesome but short week) put us in contact with one of the organizer of the festival. They were looking for 2 volunteers, starting friday morning. Just perfect! And that’s how we ended up in an aboriginal community, lost in the middle of nowhere. That’s where in met Byron, from California, and Beck, from Victoria Australia. Both living in the same universe than Mara. I’ve been only the watching. But they took me under there protection, and warmly bring me in there own world. We all met each other. We are all happy. The perfect happiness that come with those magical meeting. I’ll probably meet again Beck and Byron. I really hope so. And Mara? Mara is gone. Taking a huge part of me with her. And showing me my own daemon. Funny how subconsciousness works. The daemon I though mine was gone a long ago. I had confirmation at COmest. But a new one took its place. And that will be my next goal. Get rid of this unwanted guest. I’m feeling that Australia red heart will be perfect to help me in that.

Circular perfection

  • English: Circular perfection
  • Français: Circular perfection

I woke up early. Very early. Not so long after I went to bed actually. Josephine was still awake, of course. He chatted a little, before she drove me to the place where the group was sleeping. I took a seat in the bus, and we left. In order to stop, less than an hour later, to catch an amazing sunrise on the Breakaway.

Dynamic in this bus is definitely different than with Cassie. More tranquil. More relax. That’s perfect for me, as I can take a nap. A long one… We arrive in Erldunda a few hours later. I leave the bus with all my stuff. They are turning left. I’m not. I have a little chat with a girl who works for the same company as Cassie. She confirms my thought. Perfect.

Ten minutes later, Cassie’s bus arrive. She’s quite surprise to see me. I can understand why I guess. She still has room in her bus, and she’s happy to take me with her. Specially because none of her passenger asked to seat in the front. She doesn’t have a copilot! What a strange feeling, two weeks later, to be back exactly at the same place… I’m finishing the tour I started with her.. like if Coober Pedy was just an amazing two weeks break… everything is exactly like before. We chat, make a few plan. She was thinking to go to Katherine in a few weeks. She tells me about a 5 days hike in this area. I note everything. Sounds really interesting. She finally drop me in Alice Springs. The circle is complete.

I meet Mara at her place. An other little moment of happiness. The pleasure of seeing people again is always great when you’re traveling! I’m going to stay at her place for the next three days before we leave to Darwin.

On the next day, she invites me to come with her for a small walk in town. She has to go to the other end of Alice Springs, at a friend place. I’m happy to go with her. When she tells me in which area we’re going, I’m almost certain about the exact place. We do a little detour to climb Anzac Hills who, in the middle of the town, give a very nice overview of Alice.

One hour later, I recognize without any hesitation the little path we’re following. To go to a house I recognize too. That’s the place where I dropped Ben a few weeks ago. That’s the place where Rachel stayed after the festival. When I tell my name to the guy who welcome me, he looks surprise. Yes, I’m this Sebastien. What a strange feeling, again, to feel that I know everybody here. I’m part of a family of people I haven’t meet yet. And there’s this comment that give me a giant inside smile. “Dynamic here completely change with Ben and Rachel, that’s great they came here”.

If I like seizing opportunity when they arise, I also like to see me as someone who creates opportunity. I like having people meeting other people thanks to me. I like to see things happening because of that… I definitely didn’t expect when I put my post on couchsurfing trying to find passengers, that all that was going to happen. I really feel that I created something. A micro change. Not so important, except for the people involved. And I really like it. Everything seems to happen the way it’s suppose to. Everybody seems to be at the good place. Probably a fatherly way of seeing all that, but I feel that everybody’s happy here, and that I can go on my on way, with a light heart. Life is just confirming that I’m doing right. And that’s an awesome feeling.

I’m leaving tomorrow, with Mara and Gabrielle. An other Maui campervan. There was no other solution, for a perfect circle.

Excavator bucket

  • English: Excavator bucket
  • Français: Excavator bucket

“Sitting on the bucket of an excavator, in the middle of the desert, I smoke a cigaret while watching the stars”.

I can’t explain why I like this image so much… but I’ll have to use it one day. And I think I’ve find how. My loneliness time is coming to an end. I’m back as a social creature.

Florian and Anna

  • English: Florian and Anna
  • Français: Florian and Anna

When I give a hand to Terry to feed the roos, he always introduce me saying that I’m from France. Or from Canada. We don’t really know. He then adds that I’m here to help for a little while. Quite often, people come to me after the feeding, and ask me a few questions. Asking me if I like my experience, how I end up working in a kangaroos orphanage, or if I like leaving with roos. Mots of the time (would say 9 out of 10), people who comes to me are from France. I usually complete the information, as Terry usually speaks quite fast, and might be sometime hard to understand. In a place like Coober Pedy, there’s not so much opportunities to meet people. Which is just perfect, as it is what I was looking for. But at the same time… well, talking with new people, from time to time, is nice too! Usually, we have a 5 minutes chat, and it’s enough.

I didn’t have a beer for quite a while. I mean a beer in a bar. Going to a bar when you’re alone is always strange… but today, I had quite a nice chat with Anna and Florian, and I decide to offer them to discover “Coober Pedy ‘ Night Life”. When I ask Terry if he can suggest us a bar, the question seems to surprise him. As he told us, on a sunday evening, we might find only one or two place open. Until 9PM. We decided to go to the Opal Inn, where we celebrate until it closed. At 10PM! Long time since I closed a bar!

Anna is in Australia on a Working Holiday Visa. Here for a few months already. Florian, his brother, is visiting her for a few weeks. They have a van, and they are on a rod trip to Darwin. After sharing or schedule, we discovered that we might bump into each other later in Alice Springs. Or somewhere else… it was a quite evening, with a few interesting chat. Including the “aboriginal subject”. I still want to take my time about that. After living in Quebec for 10 years, I heard hips of thing about the “amerindian subject”. In a lot of different way. It didn’t take me a long time before I understand that it was a very sensitive subject, as people usually have quite extreme opinion on the question. It didn’t take me much more time to understand that it was exactly the same here, in Australia. Same interactions, same tensions… Here too, opinions are often quite extreme, on a subject that it’s wiser to avoid. Anna and Florian, just like me, seem to be really interest by the culture and the tradition…

Just before leaving the bar, Robert came to talk with us. In an approximate english, with an approximate pronunciation. We tried to exchange with him, as much as possible, without really understanding each other. Then Kinki join. Kinki is her aboriginal name. I tried to explain her that I really like the way it sounds, but she didn’t understand.

When we leave the bar, we ended up talking with a group of aboriginal. It was quite hard but, like in Alice Springs with Gabrielle, behind the unsure word, I was seeing amazing smiles. I still ended up feeling a little bit not really comfy. In a middle of 10 people, all quite drunk; even if they were all really friendly, I never like being with to much drunk people. We never know how they could react… any way, it confirmed me that I’m really interested to learn more, to understand more. If amerindian used to leave me coldly indifferent, I’m discovering that aboriginal intrigues me. In a way I don’t really fully understand. There’s a few aboriginal community and cultural center on Helpx. I think it could be a nice opportunity. We’ll see!

I share a few more words with Anna et Florian, and contact details to. Just in case!

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