We Go to a Land Down Under -- VI

In the Time of Creation

Friday, Oct. 7

Kata Tjuta

Several intrepid members of our group decide to take in the sunrise at Uluru while others are dropped off to take a hike around the mountain. Tourists like to climb the mountain, but because it’s a sacred site connected to aboriginal creation stories, the government officially discourages climbing the mountain. This is sort of a compromise. The native peoples would like a ban, but the government wants to keep the tourists happy. Thus the “compromise.” All the official literature discourages climbing, and in the park gift shop, you can buy a T-shirt that proudly proclaims you did not climb. Tour operators also strongly encourage their entourages to stay off the mountain/

We skip the activities because departures are way earlier than the ones we've experienced up to now, and we’re all tired of being up early. So our day begins at 8:30 as we board the bus for a closer view of the mountain.

While we drive to the site, Tony tells us some of the folktales that adhere to Uluru. He explains that both he and our driver, who also runs tours to the mountain, have to be certified to tell the stories. Even then, the stories he relates are considered to be the children’s versions, and the more complex tales are reserved for the older native peoples.

We drive to a trailhead that will lead us to the Mutitjulu waterhole. As we walk by various formations, Tony tells us of an epic battle between two snakes and points out the formations that resemble snakes and the marks on the mountainside that correspond to elements of the story.

One of the rock formations looks like a blunt-nosed snake, and among the lessons contained in the tales is that snakes with this kind of head are not poisonous, Another formation resembles a snake head with sharp, angular features, and we learn that this is an indicator that the snake is poisonous.

That heart-shaped mark at the top is really
a backside-shaped mark.

When we reach the waterhole, we hear yet another story. The waterhole is not spring fed, though some once thought so, but is filled by rain running off the mountain. Up on the side we see holes in the rock, and sure enough, they correspond to elements of the story we’re hearing. One mark looks like a heart to me, but in the story it’s the result of a woman sitting on the ground. Just below that a hole represents the mark made by her knee as she stood, and another below that represents where she struck the ground with her wanna, an all-purpose stick used by tribal women.

Rock paintings at Uluru

On our way back to the trailhead, we stop at an area containing paintings by the Anangu people. At least one of them seems to represent Alita, Uluru and Kata Tjuta, the three mountains that rise from the ground. These three formations lie in a line when viewed from above, and the perspective of all the paintings is also from above. When Tony asks the group why we think that’s true, I can't help turning to Sharon and saying, “Ancient Aliens.” Fortunately he didn’t hear that.

This aerial perspective is used for traditional stories that communicate sacred realities, often creation themes, and at least in part, the perspective helps obscure the message to the uninitiated. The paintings and drawings also serve as maps.

What do you think? Was that the dingo that ate her baby?

Back at the trail head we see a dog wandering down the path. Of course the assumption is that this is a dingo, and the group's cameras start clicking. But our driver, John, says it's more likely a regular dog running loose because it lacks the distinctive white markings of the dingo. I’m going to take his word for it, but this dog looks to me like it's at least part dingo from the pics I find online later.

We reboard the bus to take a drive around the entire mountain, with Tony continuing to tell us traditional stories. At some point we are asked to stop taking photos, another agreement to respect the sacred nature of the site. Along the way we’ll stop off at the park's cultural center. We can take pictures outside but not inside because the inside houses displays telliing stories we’ve heard during the morning.

We’ll head back to the hotel late morning, as the temperatures as rapidly rising into the 90s, and they don’t want us wandering about in the near desert in that kind of heat. This shouldn’t be a problem for those of us from Texas -- and most of the Texans in our group are from North Texas, where it's considerably more humid -- but we’ll be back out in late afternoon to visit the formation known as Kata Tjuta, another sacred site associated with creation stories, and the Walpa Gorge, a part of Kata Tjuta.

Kata Tjuta is more elongated and segmented than Uluru. We stop at a lookout on one of the long sides of Kata Tjuta, At one end of the formation, you can see the trail that tourists take to climb the mountain, though as with Uluru, they are discouraged from doing so. At some point stakes were driven into the ground to provide stability for climbers.

At the end of the lookout, you can see Uluru in the distance, about 12.5 miles away, and some other isolated formations sticking out of the ground Tony explains that those uprises are what's left of an ancient mountain range. Erosion and landfill over thousands of years left those formations

Gotta admit it’s pretty hot when we get to the gorge, but the real problem is the flies. Tony warned us that the flies can be bad during the daytime. Some of our group have purchased fly nets that you put over your head, but we didn’t because we really hadn’t been bothered much before now.

The flies home in on Sharon, as flying bugs have a tendency to do, and she begins to feel like she can’t breathe. The heat’s bothering both of us so we let the boys forge on ahead and turn back to a covered area to await their return.

Sunset at Kata Tjuta

When everyone returns we head for the west side of Kata Tjuta for the sunset. 

Sunset here is almost as spectacular at Kata Tjuta as at Uluru, though the formation from the west side is not as imposing. Gotta say, I’m really grateful for digital cameras. I shot twice as many pictures in two weeks as I took when I spent a month in India and Nepal four decades ago, and although the film wasn’t that expensive, the processing ran to a nice bit of change. Now the expense lies in the camera, which has evolved tremendously over the SLRs I used to have. I think I snapped more pics at Kata Tjuta than Uluru, just from playing with all the settings available to me.

One nice thing about the very late afternoon into sunset – the flies go away. Maybe they have an early bedtime so they can be up at sunrise to annoy the tourists.