12 Nov 2014
In 5/6P Students have been reading "Welcome to My Country", a novel based on the lives of a family in the Yolnu nation in Arnham Land. Students have been learning about the customs and traditions of Indigenous tribes, as well as learning some Indigenous language, which is incorporated throughout the text.
The following piece of writing has been writen by Cate in year 6. She has re-written one episode of the book from the perspective of the main author, a six year old girl.
Now it is time to gather round, come closer and I will tell you my story.
I was six years old, and my family and I were travelling form Rorrowuy to Yirrikala. It was Dhyarrahrya, the hot, dry season, and after three hours my bare feet were blistering with heat. The entire journey went on to take 15 hours. My legs were already shaking with the weight of my two little sisters, Merricy and Ritjilili, who were in my arms.
After two more hours, we came to a stop. A short distance away was a billabong and for ten glorious minutes we played in the cool, cool water while my mother boiled the water for us. During the five hours we'd already travelled, my mother had had to fight off two dingos and one buffalo.
Eleven hours in, we came to a river. It was too deep to wade accross, and there was no bridge. My mother and I made a raft, tying logs with rhana, paperbark.
I took my sisters and brother accross the river. My mother stayed on the edge. Halfway there a pigeon cried out, 'Goooo Goooook, Goooooo Goooook'! It was telling us that the currants had shifted, and that sharks were coming!
My mother cried out, but she was too far to do anything. It was up to me.
I dived into the crystal, cold, and now deadly waters, and dragged the raft accross. My clothes weighed me down but nothing stopped my determination. Finally, I washed up on the shores. Shortly after me, my mother arrived, after swimming accross. Later, she told me that she was not going to leave us, no matter what.
Our belongings were completely saturated. We hadn't bought much, only some dilly bags with some clothes and some tools. We went on to Yangunbi. When we arrived, mum tried to light a fire, but our duttji (firesticks) were wet! You hold the coasl to a pandanus trunk, and it burns forever.
After gathering firewood, mum did successfully light. She was trying to get her dad to spot it. When Grandad did see the fire, he saw we were coming, and sailed to us at once. His Lipalipa (dugout canoe) was called fire or Gutha, which he sailed us accross in. We arrived in Yirrkala, 15 hours after we left. We were exhausted and hungry, but we were safe.
Now I will rest under the stars, and tomorrow I will tell you more about my other adventures.
What a fantastic piece of writing by Cate, which demonstrates, not only her terrific writing skills, but also her developing cultural awareness. We are so proud of our stage three students writing achievement this year, with several other significant pieces of writing being published and highlighted within the community.