Not all silence is golden
There are silences we live with and wish we didn't
You don't realize it until you get to situation and sense you have just stepped into the cressfire of duelling silences...
You are struck by just how horrible the things people don't say to each other can be...
until they say it....until it is too late and saying it doesn't change anything anymore....
The following part is of an advertisement for the Swan River Settlement, London, December 1828:"Settlers will have no purchase money to pay for their lands, not will they be chargeable for any rent whatsoever...
"...their grants will be conveyed to them in fee simple and will descend to their assignees or heirs for ever."
The English simply ignored the Aboriginal Noongars were here and it was their land they were taking up and giving away to Englishmen for free.
The capital city of Western Australia, Perth, where I live was founded next to the main camp of the Mooro Noongars as if they didn't even exist.
It is now 2012 and what we are seeing is this unfortunate and unresolved legacy still being played out, mostly in silence, until six weeks ago...
The descendants of the Mooro Noongars set up the Aboriginal tent embassy on the place of the previous main camp in Perth. It had been a peaceful protest until yesterday about 70 police descended on camping men, women and children.
"We tried to avoid confrontation so we went to the other side of the park but they came after us and made the trouble. The police always intended to arrest someone and they did," said one of the Aboriginal activists.
The arrest of their four leaders sparked furious outburst from protesters and one of the police horses bumped 28-year old pregnant woman, who had a baby in her arms.
She received a cut above her left eye and almost dropped the 13-week-old girl as she stumbled. Police ended 6-week Aboriginal stand off but protesters vow to return to voice their grievances again and again...
After the sad event, one of our well respected politician made his appearance and talked of Australia dividing against itself. He blamed a few super rich for this growing discontentment.
A miner from Kalgoorlie who came to spend money to Perth shouted from a small group of white Australians: "You are wrong, the super rich are just circus, the sickening political correctness and multiculturalism is to blame..."
"We have been dividing against ourselves for more than 40 years," called another one: "a good-fellow feeling among us original white Australians is being destroyed by the inflow of non-Anglo-Celtic migrants and illegal entrants to our cities..."
"...Thus weakening that good-fellow feeling." Finished the sentence another of his mates and then they just turned around and followed the road to the closest pub.
I can only assume that they continued in their monolouges over few and few more beers, no one would challenge them although 40 per cent of Australians come from other than English background and 10 per cent are of Aboriginal descend.
Another day will come and go in silence...we are all happy here in our big multicultural Australia, aren't we?
Living in silence's absence
Half the fun
of the travel
is the feeling
of lostness,
and while
you look
for your way
around,
you learn
a new
life lesson,
every time.
What I do now
is tell my story
and talk about
silence,
an unwanted gift,
a precious gift
we are bound
to take
home
from our
Bali
holiday.
Mist swirls between lofty peaks
as we walk
through the narrow streets,
dark houses
welcome us
in every twists and turns.
Foliage,
dripping with recent rain,
clings tenaciously to craggy roofs.
Ephemeral waterfalls
tumble
gently
down
manmade
rocky
crevices.
The faint sound
of water
fades
away
as we pass
through
the majestic door
and enter
our hotel room.
We open
the window
and silence
envelope us all.
The whole island
of 4 million people
is silent,
inside their huts
with the light off
and their mouths closed.
The airport shuts
the harbours are empty
everything is quiet
lost in meditation,
fasting
and reflection.
We are confused
stumbling into silence
shocked
all of sudden
what that strange feeling is...
A Balinese woman
in a small window
opposite,
waves at us
gently
with an open invitation
to join
her quest
for a sense
of inner peace.
But my friends
demand
their money back
they feel cheated,
never loosing
their noise
before,
the background grind of traffic,
the loud music in a bar
and endless phone ringing
while news bulletins
from TV
chasing them loudly
down
their hotel corridors
to their noisy cars.
" Remember,
back home,
last year,
in Kimberley,
when we got lost
in a huge northern stretch of WA?"
I try to reason with my friends,
"It is one of the most remote
places on Earth,
that desert silence..."
"I had music in my earphones
and an Ipod in my car,"
says one of my friends,
" Remember those fertile waters,
catching cod, mangrove jack
and barramundi,
drinking and singing
and making all that noise
to scare off large crocodiles."
"Back in Australia,"
other friend shouts at me:
"You supposed to be silent
for two minutes
on Anzac Day
and for a full one minute
on Remembrance Day,
not that really people are,
but could you
actually
be quiet
for a full day?"
We live in a noisy time,
so noisy
in fact
that soon,
by its very rarity,
silence
must
surely
become
extremely
valuable...
It will be time
for our Balinese
neighbours
to charge us
double
for this precious
commodity
and teach us
on the way
lesson
on tranquillity.
Meanwhile,
my Aussie mates,
will practise their will
and their right,
to show the world,
how the loudest shouters
claim
to be part of a silent majority...
Silence
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