Friendly Folk _ Cunderdin

I know I’m not doing this blog properly – in sequential order of Dave and I’s trip… but, oh well. Blogs really are just about what’s on the writer’s mind at the time – and I just haven’t been able to pic out my favorite cave pictures for the next installment…. So, here’s another tangent.

I’m feeling quite blessed today. Not because I’ve been hit, again, by a stupid bug I’ve been fighting for WEEKS now; though I am quite fortunate that my ear is not hurting from the bug settling there. No – I’m feeling quite lucky because I have spent my time in a town filled with lovely people. While I am good friends with only a few, every person I talk to in the pub or on the street is a genuinely good person.

A few examples:

My friend, Craig, took us up in a “cherry picker” last Tuesday (8 Sept). Cat (my new Irish co-worker and roommate) and I had the day off, Craig had mentioned taking me up to the heights the week before. Craig’s boss had a big smile on his face when we met him; he was happy to let us use the machine to get a view for miles over Cunderdin.

A few weeks previous (28 August), Aurelie (the French co-worker/roommate Cat replaced) and I spent the morning checking out tractors at the shop by the pub. The manager there was happy to let Chris (Craig’s brother) spend some time showing us the wares and letting us hop in the brand new rides (half million dollars at least).

My boss, Brian, took me to York on my day off this last Wednesday (9 Sept). He had no business there, but he took me anyways. The rain stopped while we looked in the shops, we walked around town and over the swing bridge under beautiful weathered skies. (okay - this doesn't show the sky, but it's the inside of an sweet shop. They even had some American candy!)

That same Wed. (9 Sept), Adrian and Claire took me out towards Meckering. We all finally got to take the pictures of the yellow canola fields – I got my artsy pictures……

While they got their colorful portrait ones.

I was surprised on Thursday when my co-worker, Tchae, gave me a small souvenier from her 3 day vacation north. It was only a simple bookmark – listing various “Aussie Lingo” phrases – but it was such a thoughtful gift (especially since I’d been using napkins and paper scraps to mark my place in books). Or course, it would be greatly helpful if the definitions to a few of the phrase were on the other side of the bookmark – but I guess I know have a mission to be sure I know what each one means by the time I leave. I do know now, however, that “chuck a wobbly” is like “having a go” or going off on a rant.

Despite such a great week, I was really quite over the whole place by Friday. I know! Talk about taking life for granted (how easy it is to forget the happy times of a few days back!). But really, I’m just so ready to travel again and – well – we all know how work is. Just ‘cause it’s not bad doesn’t mean you really want to go everyday! Anyhow, after a great day of feeling healthy (for the first time in weeks) on Friday, I was a bit unhappy at feeling sick again on Saturday. I was letting it get to me, when one of the pub’s semi-regulars (and well known about town) gave me a gift! I didn’t know what to say. “Lofty” and I had discussed (during my first stint in Cunderdin I think) an old doll that used to be popular in Australia. It’s quite fallen out of favor these days – being classed as politically incorrect and possibly racist. However, Lofty was surprised I hadn’t heard of “golliwog” and though he explained well enough what it was, he still wanted to find one for me. So – I was extremely surprised and humbled when I opened the bag and found the small, black doll with spikey (but extremely soft) hair inside. Talk about not knowing what to say! I put the doll in my tip jar and it made a good conversation piece throughout the day. Several people remembered having large “golywog” dolls of their own when they were kids. They are quite out of fashion and frowned upon now as they are considered a derogatory and racist representation of the black people. (I thought it was regarding Aboriginal people, but my internet search has found it's really African descendants). However, if one has an open mind then one can appreciate the doll for what it is – a piece of cultural history.

I don’t have a picture of my next lovely gift, but the brief account is an example of how nice and lovely even the young kids are here. Macey is the daughter of a regular here (really – the pub is a meeting place for many families and it’s quite common for babies to be crawling while kids are on the playground; whether it’s during a family dinner or dad’s few cold ones during “footy”, the town pretty much grows up in the pub!). Macey turned 8 yesterday (12 Sept). She had a “lolly bag” (lollies are candy) full of candy and prizes from her party. She had helped me fold napkins during the long, slow time between lunch and 5 o’clock beers. We talked about her birthday, school, and aspirations to be a chef (where “Mister Backy said I could work in the kitchen when I was 18”). She gave me a pink pencil decorated with fairies. She said she had two and I could have one if I wanted! How sweet is that!

While I took my little black doll home that afternoon, to keep it from getting covered in alcohol, I left the unsharpened (easier to travel home with me) pencil in my tip jar – as a reminder of all the friendly folk that live out here in the country.