White Lives in a Black Community: The lives of Jim Page and Rebecca Forbes in the Adnyamathanha communityTracy SpencerVolume Three Appendices: Creative Life WritingSection C: Contact ZoneImage from Herbert M. Hale and Norman B. Tindale "Observations on Aborigines of the <strong>Flinders</strong> Ranges, andRecords of Rock Carvings and Paintings." Records of the South Australian Museum 1 (1925): 45-60.In 1925, he is heavier, and hairier, with his arms crossed as he faces Norman Tindale’scamera, grinning at the man who has learnt to call him ‘Wanjulda’, as he takes note of MtSerle Bob’s stories of the ‘early days’. 27 Bob saw them all come – Smiler Greenwood torestart Mt Serle station yet again; the Snells stubbornly holding on across the creek atAngepena Station, and the newcomers, Ron and Jackie Whyte with their partner NormanColes, running their rams along the boundary on Burr Well Station. Bob had seen the past:some said Bob could see the future, and watches still.Mt Serle, 1926After dinnertime, Jack lets the deeper wheel ruts wander off to the west, while he turns thedonkeys to follow lighter tracks that amble north towards the large hill and beside a creekbed. Ahead and sitting on the banks of the creek, two men and two women hail them to a halt,waving arms and a blackened quartpot. Rebecca can see they are boiling up white cottonmaterial in tubs on fires.‘Nangga!’20
‘Nangga!’ Jack jumps down from the cart, and the boys clamber down, too. ‘You want acuppa?’ Jack asks.‘It’s old Jack!’ one of the women exclaims, holding him by his shoulders and staring intohis face.Jack half turns back to the cart, pointing with his chin. ‘This is Mrs Forbes, RebeccaForbes, my atuna,’ says Jack, proudly. Rebecca finds herself being helped down andenveloped in a soft hug.‘Ah, good mitji, eh? I’m Annie Ryan, and this here’s old Sydney. And them’s George andKitty Elliott. But you know your old mob, eh, Jacky?’ 28 Annie has a broad open face, shiningwhere the sun catches beads of perspiration on the dark skin. Rebecca feels so small, pressedby the weight of sagging breasts, the firm hold of her ample belly, and the warm smell of awoman at work.‘Nyangga, poor old thing,’ Kitty Elliot is saying to Jack. ‘Your old mother’s sister,ngarlaami, 29 she passed away, at Minerawuta, you know Ram Paddock Gate just over thatway a little bit?’ Her lower lip pointed the way, towards the west. ‘Sorry camp now down thisway,’ and she tipped her head north down the wide creek, ‘but we got to finish this work forthem udnyus at Angepena. Be there directly, then. They’ll be singing out for you too. Andhere,’ Kitty bends to tear a strip of cloth from the bundle on the ground, and holds it out toRebecca, ‘Better cover up your head with that, inni?’ Rebecca takes it, uncertainly, and nodsher reply, before mounting the cart again.When they reach the camp, Rebecca has secured her scarf, and is quick to notice a groupof women sitting on the ground, their forehead, hair and cheeks covered with a mat of whitepipe clay. 30 Another group sits to the side and wails: gut-wrenching and eerie cadences thatrise and fall and then sweep to a wail once more. 3121
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draws breath accounting for the cus
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Gerard does not seem to notice. ‘
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een a journalist, collecting tales
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Australia. Prayer is needed that th
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Works Cited(Secretary), JH Sexton.
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2 South Australia Dorothy Tunbridge
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26 Education, The Adnyamathanha Peo
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54 Clara Brady, Transcript of Inter
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84 Ian Buckley, Conversation with I
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122 Mission, 'Constitution of the U