Out in the Desert
Sorry, no photos here this time guys...
The browser in the clinic is so antiquated the blog program doesn't work properly....
And I don't dare muck around with the computer too much, the clinic manager isn't exactly the friendly sharing type to put it mildly.
Had a bit of a territorial dispute on the first day with her...I'll give her the benefit of the doubt and say her rudeness was due to overwork and exhaustion, but it still doesn't make up arrogance, dressing me down in the middle of a consult with a client or for a half arsed handover leaving me with no idea of where anything is or how 99% of the procedures in the clinic actually work, before she dissapeared to Darwin for a week.
The other agency nurse who arrived with me is luckily amazingly experienced, and an absolutely amazing woman to boot, so we've managed to sort out things quite nicely between us.
The Desert is dry. Really dry. You don't realize what that actually means till you are out here and your skin starts to turn to sandpaper....your nose dries up and you can't smell properly, and you're constantly rubbing your eyes trying to produce a few more tears to moisten them....
Out here I feel even more alien than I did in Tennant Creek or on Groote Island...and WHITE!!! Oh so very white....
In the clinic, the locals are mainly polite and sometimes friendly, if very reserved and shy. But if I have to go into the township for some reason, I get waves of mistrust and resentment...people don't want to talk to me, and if I am looking for someone, will send me all over the place, but rarely give me a straight answer....
All around me is loud incredibly fast paced chatter...they aren't shy with each other and usually converse at a loud shout...but with me they look down at the floor and whisper..
I know that I am lost in cultural confusion...the body language of our two cultures are so different. Direct eye contact is seen as rude, but for me it is so ingrained to read this as a sign of mistrust or deciet that I am constantly battling, seeking their eyes, bending down to talk to people to make them meet my eyes....
I'm beginning to learn smatterings of the local language pitjanjara..."kata Pika? your head hurts? Palya? All Good?
The language itself is actually quite beautiful...when it is spoken softly, it has a liliting music to it, a bit like italian...the letters are sort, roolled r's, soft t's, and a lovely lilt to the pacing...
But a lot of the time, it seems to be a language of harsh shouts and whining screeches....
The land itself is amazingly beautiful. Wide brilliant blue skies and soft rolling hills that surround a huge flat pan plane where the community sits in the middle. The red warm sand is strewn with white crystal hunks of rock and chunks of sandstone, and the other nurse Feriba and I are both collecting them and piling them up on our communal table outside the flats where we sit in the evening and watch the sun set over the mountain ranges...
I've been adopted by 4 dogs, all dingo crosses that normally live with the clinic manager who is away at the moment...and it's very comforting. They sleep outside the flat, and sit up and bark if anyone comes to the clinic next door. Giving me a much needed doorbell, as well as a sense of comfort and security, keeping both bored kids who might want to break in away, as well as any wandering evil spirits.
The shop is the usual remote nightmare. Insanely overpriced and seriously limited in what it offers. I bought some frozen beef strips there the other day that smelled so awful when I cooked them that I ended up feeding them to the dogs...
So I've been living off baked beans and the occasional salad pack. $8.90 for half a soggy lettuce, a mushroom, two suspicious looking tomatoes and an onion. Delightful.
After chatting tot he driver who deliverd supplies to the clinic, I discovered I could place a phone order with the Alice Springs organic shop, so tonight I'll dine on vege soup made from a wierd, but at least healthy assortment of things from my mixed fruit and veg box, delivered in an esky with a bottle of frozen water! And soy milk!!! So no more black coffee! YAY!
Now if I'd only had the sense to break the law and smuggle in a large bottle of scotch, I'd be feeling a lot better.....
The browser in the clinic is so antiquated the blog program doesn't work properly....
And I don't dare muck around with the computer too much, the clinic manager isn't exactly the friendly sharing type to put it mildly.
Had a bit of a territorial dispute on the first day with her...I'll give her the benefit of the doubt and say her rudeness was due to overwork and exhaustion, but it still doesn't make up arrogance, dressing me down in the middle of a consult with a client or for a half arsed handover leaving me with no idea of where anything is or how 99% of the procedures in the clinic actually work, before she dissapeared to Darwin for a week.
The other agency nurse who arrived with me is luckily amazingly experienced, and an absolutely amazing woman to boot, so we've managed to sort out things quite nicely between us.
The Desert is dry. Really dry. You don't realize what that actually means till you are out here and your skin starts to turn to sandpaper....your nose dries up and you can't smell properly, and you're constantly rubbing your eyes trying to produce a few more tears to moisten them....
Out here I feel even more alien than I did in Tennant Creek or on Groote Island...and WHITE!!! Oh so very white....
In the clinic, the locals are mainly polite and sometimes friendly, if very reserved and shy. But if I have to go into the township for some reason, I get waves of mistrust and resentment...people don't want to talk to me, and if I am looking for someone, will send me all over the place, but rarely give me a straight answer....
All around me is loud incredibly fast paced chatter...they aren't shy with each other and usually converse at a loud shout...but with me they look down at the floor and whisper..
I know that I am lost in cultural confusion...the body language of our two cultures are so different. Direct eye contact is seen as rude, but for me it is so ingrained to read this as a sign of mistrust or deciet that I am constantly battling, seeking their eyes, bending down to talk to people to make them meet my eyes....
I'm beginning to learn smatterings of the local language pitjanjara..."kata Pika? your head hurts? Palya? All Good?
The language itself is actually quite beautiful...when it is spoken softly, it has a liliting music to it, a bit like italian...the letters are sort, roolled r's, soft t's, and a lovely lilt to the pacing...
But a lot of the time, it seems to be a language of harsh shouts and whining screeches....
The land itself is amazingly beautiful. Wide brilliant blue skies and soft rolling hills that surround a huge flat pan plane where the community sits in the middle. The red warm sand is strewn with white crystal hunks of rock and chunks of sandstone, and the other nurse Feriba and I are both collecting them and piling them up on our communal table outside the flats where we sit in the evening and watch the sun set over the mountain ranges...
I've been adopted by 4 dogs, all dingo crosses that normally live with the clinic manager who is away at the moment...and it's very comforting. They sleep outside the flat, and sit up and bark if anyone comes to the clinic next door. Giving me a much needed doorbell, as well as a sense of comfort and security, keeping both bored kids who might want to break in away, as well as any wandering evil spirits.
The shop is the usual remote nightmare. Insanely overpriced and seriously limited in what it offers. I bought some frozen beef strips there the other day that smelled so awful when I cooked them that I ended up feeding them to the dogs...
So I've been living off baked beans and the occasional salad pack. $8.90 for half a soggy lettuce, a mushroom, two suspicious looking tomatoes and an onion. Delightful.
After chatting tot he driver who deliverd supplies to the clinic, I discovered I could place a phone order with the Alice Springs organic shop, so tonight I'll dine on vege soup made from a wierd, but at least healthy assortment of things from my mixed fruit and veg box, delivered in an esky with a bottle of frozen water! And soy milk!!! So no more black coffee! YAY!
Now if I'd only had the sense to break the law and smuggle in a large bottle of scotch, I'd be feeling a lot better.....
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