On Ngarrindjeri country
Walking along the coast and hearing voices, a holiday by the sea, learning about indigenous culture and own little illustrated dictionary
Hello friends,
There's lots of pictures at the end so feel free to skip straight to those if reading words isn't your vibe today.
I've now officially got my second multi day camping walk under my belt. Hurray! And it went pretty well, with none of the re-planning and confidence crisis drama of the last one. It was still hard with lots of ups and downs and endless walking on soft sand but not a single bum shuffle was needed. Rave reviews, 10/10. When I finished the walk, I even walked up an extra hill, just because I wanted to see the view from up top and I still had some energy.
I did all the things I should have done last time - bringing spare contact lenses and batteries for my head torch, packing less food, timing it for slightly warmer weather and to coincide with other campsite bookings (this worked well, I had very nice company at all the every evening). Most importantly, I studied the walk website in detail and downloaded every app it told me to download.
Hearing voices
One of these apps was a bit of a surprise - a GPS-activated audio guide accompanying the five-day walk. As I walked each day, my phone would pipe up from time to time, telling me about the landscape I was passing through. These mini podcasts were narrated by local rangers, telling me about animals, plants and conservation efforts, as well as local indigenous people telling me about what places, plants and animals are called in the local indigenous language, how indigenous people relate to the land and about the place's creation story (all focused around a warrior ancestor called Ngurunderi who was chasing his runaway wives down the coast - NOT a happy ending for anyone in the story, except the landscape that was created as a result). There was also a slight couch to 5k vibe to the app that I really appreciated - I would get an encouraging pep talk just before a steep climb and the app would reliably pipe up just as I was approaching each night's campground, telling me how to pronounce its name and offering me a mediation to unwind from the day and connect to country. How amazing is all that?! Especially walking alone, I felt very accompanied by these voices. Three or four times a day, when my phone would suddenly start telling me something, I would stop and take a little break, looking around and listening. It made me notice things I wouldn't have, and made me feel like I was getting to know the place at a whole different level.
A seaside holiday and meeting voices
I had a couple of days by the coast after finishing my walk, and the contrast between camping in nature and what was now blatantly just a lovely seaside holiday was delightful and slightly amusing. It was the school holidays and in Victor Harbour the activities available to me included: a ride on a historical horse-drawn tram, a trip on a historical steam train along the coast and riding a dromedary along the beach (not so historical, I don't think). I opted to get the steam train to Port Elliot, where my hostel was, later in the day and headed to the library to just sit somewhere for a while without having to pay anyone anything. There, while on the loo, I spotted a familiar name on the programme of free library events - Kyla McHughes, the Ngarrindjeri woman whose voice I was familiar with from the app, leading the meditations and telling me about plant and animal names. She was running a language class two days later. I knew that they were probably intended for local people but because 17 out of 20 spots were still available, I signed up anyway.
I met another one of the voices in person a day later, on a day cruise of the Coorong. The Coorong is a shallow saltwater lagoon surrounded by sand dune islands right where the (lookooong!) river Murray meets the Southern Ocean. This cruise is the most expensive and most touristy thing I've done so far and it was glorious and worth every penny. Aboard the cruise were a huge group of seniors on an outing, a young family, me, and another girl in her twenties who became my best pal for the day. We stopped on the sand dunes to learn how to dig for pipis/cockles (which involves a fun little dance) and about the significance of the place to the indigenous people. One of the guides was Mark Koolmatrie, a Ngarrindjeri elder whose voice I also already familiar with from my walk app - felt like meeting a celebrity! He took us to a midden site (a site of cultural significance to indigenous people) that had been used as a meeting place and burial site by Ngarrindjeri people for thousands of years, and showed us how they would dig for fresh water in the sand there. It was also the site where they buried a repatriated ancestor last year, after Ngarrindjeri remains were returned from a long exile at the University of Oxford.
Learning Ngarrindjeri language
The next day, I was off back to the library for my language class. Starting to learn a new language - even for just an hour - is always exciting. You're not yet at the "frustrated that you can't express yourself and/or sound stupid" stage of learning, and instead every unfamiliar word feels like a sweetie to be savoured. If the language in question is ancient, connected to the place you've been exploring and has less than 400 active speakers (hopefully more now that efforts to relearn it are in full swing - according to the internet™, the last fully fluent speaker died in the 1960s), there's something extra special about it.
Originally, each of the 18 local clans had their own, separate language and collectively, the Ngarrindjeri were brought together as a nation of "people who understand each other". Now, their language is being re-collected, recorded and re-learned as one. This is no small feat given the Ngarrindjeri language hasn't been a written-down language before and comes with system of pronouns so complex that it can reveal an entire family tree through grammar alone.
The language is also beautifully rooted in place and the dreaming story of Ngurunderi. Plonggi, for example, means 'club' but also names the Bluff, the hill at the edge of Encounter Bay, where I finished my walk (and that I didn't have to climb but did anyway). According to Ngarrindjeri dreaming, this is where Ngurunderi threw down his club before chasing his runaway wives towards Kangaroo Island (Karta).
A language class regular (and Port Elliot resident) brought up my favourite fact so far: The Ngarrindjeri name for Port Elliot, Ka:ntjinwald, apparently literally translates to 'piss place' - because according to the Dreaming story, it's the place where Ngurunderi relieved himself while in pursuit of his runaway wives.
Words can't really express how delighted I felt during and after the class. During my walk, I had enjoyed learning little words for plants and places, and I'd soaked up the dreaming story. But there's something about learning a new language, how your brain tries to find the patterns within it and how quickly you can express yourself in a wholly new way, that has always been absolutely magical to me. After just after an hour and with ample help from Kyla, I was able to describe who I am and what I had done, in this ancient, local, marvellous language. Absolute magic. Here's my little spiel:
Nganawi mi:tji Berit. Nglel-amaldi-ap piltenggi kringkri ngop-amaldi mi:mini kutjun-nendi. Ngopur-ap ruwangk Ngarrindjer-ald Parrewar-angk-nendi Pultang-ungai. Ngarrindjer-ar watjun mulumi ngelerumi ruw-ald. Kanawi nglelurumi elun piltenggi. Kitji weldai tumbelun aurau keldau.
My name is Berit. I am a smart strong non-aboriginal walking woman from far away. I walked on the land of the Ngarrindjeri from Cape Jervis to Victor Harbour. The Ngarrindjeri have sacred knowledge of this land. Their knowledge is strong. It is still living today.
Setting off again
When I checked out of the hostel, I was asked if I'd be interested in staying and working. I was VERY flattered to be asked (they were basically telling me I had "good vibes") and I can't say I wasn't at least a little bit tempted. The hostel is sits right above a beautiful beach on a sheltered bay. If you stand up on the hill long enough, you'll eventually spot a pod of dolphins or some seals splashing about by the rocks. And the hostel itself isn't too shabby either - an old seaside guest house with creaky wooden floors, with a balcony overlooking the bay at the front and chickens and a vegetable garden round the back. There is a version of me that would have been very happy staying for a while, working at the hostel, cycling up and down the coast, going to Kyla's class every other week, maybe to the little old cinema in Victor Harbour from time to time and hiking more of the Heysen Trail on my days off. Alas.
What's next
I'm setting off for another walk today! I've done mountains and coast, so this time I'm headed for the forest, walking through the Otway National Park on the Great Ocean Walk. It's a low logistics walk - I'm walking to Blanket Bay from Apollo Bay, and back again. It'll be significantly easier than my last two so the biggest challenge will probably be staying dry (but, hey, at least the rainwater tanks will definitely be full!).
What I'm reading
The Welcome to Country Handbook: A Guide to Indigenous Australia by Marcia Langton
Discovered at the local library, and it's the guide I didn't know I was looking for. About half of is accessible and informative writing on history, context and cultural awareness (including on not uncomplicated things like native titles etc), and the other half is Lonely Planet-style, listing places of significance and Indigenous-owned or -operated tourism experiences.
What I'm listening to
Echidnas are my new obsession, and they are fascinating little animals! This podcast is meant to help you fall sleep so if you're awake and after the facts rather than a snooze, I recommend listening at 1.5x speed. But also really good for falling asleep, and who want to be awake anyway?!
All the best,
Berit 😊
Appendix (is that allowed??) - my own little Ngarrindjeri illustrated dictionary feat. pics from my time on the coast
Ruwi - country
Tantun - sleeping
Yaluwar - ocean
Kurri - river or creek
Maiyi - wind (one night was so wet and stormy that we camped out in the shelter - I later met a couple whose tent poles had snapped in three places that same night, so definitely a wise choice!)
Kainggi - rainbow
Ngopun - walking (aka sweating up a steep hill!)
Nguni - plant (this one is a kinyari, a yacca plant
Kuti - pipi/cockle (recipe available here - would probably be tasty with clams, mussels, prawns etc., too)
Punggari - seal
Muthun - drinking (fresh water from an impromptu well in the dunes)
Yannun/kungun - talking/listening
Ya:yun - eating (lots of beige food post walk)
And, last but not least, kalangmaliwar - echidna
They are so well hidden in the grass!
Midden has a much nicer meaning in Ngarrindjeri than in Scots x