Deep in the arid center of
Australia lies the huge rock monolith called Uluru. It dominates the
desert plain in which it lies, appearing to rise sheer from its
surroundings. From a distance, Uluru appears as an integral unit,
without seam or cleavage. Move closer and you will notice the ribbing,
valleys, and caves. Many stories center on the giant rock. Uluru is the
repository of aboriginal myth. It is a metaphor through which the
Aborigines interpret the universe, and the location is imbued with
spiritual significance. Through the rock, the local people--who call
themselves Anangu--are connected. I visited the site, known to most
Australians as Ayers Rock, in the early 1980s and had my own spiritual
experience, of sorts. I traveled up from South Australia in the
sweltering summer heat along a route that was no more than a sandy
trail. The sense of expectation of seeing Uluru was overpowering.
Immediately on arrival, I jumped at the chance to climb the
rock. I stumbled up the 1,143 feet to the summit and gazed out over the
plain of red-ocher sand and small shrubs. But, silly me, I had forgotten
to bring along any water. Consequently, that night, I was overcome by
heat exhaustion. I still remember the waking dream/nightmare I
experienced.
I dreamed of reaching for a penny on the ground,
but however hard I strove to bend and pick it up, I could not. Scene
change: I was walking though a huge warehouse stacked with skids piled
with paper money. I was told by my guide that I must acquire all the
money in the building. Scene change: back to the penny, ad nauseam.
Interpretation? Perhaps I was sensing the state of postindustrial man's
striving after material gain and losing his connection to the natural
world.
Where dreaming tracks cross
My experience was at
odds with that of the Anangu. The natural world is their physical and
spiritual reality and forms the basis of their oral history. Their
stories explain the world's creation through the exploits of mythical
ancestors who lived in the Tjukurpa, or "Dreamtime."
These
origin myths form the basis of the law governing all aspects of
traditional behavior, but Tjukurpa does not refer to a collection of
ideas obtained from dreams.
Under aboriginal law, each group is
obliged to look after the dreaming places, or sacred sites, created by
the ancestral heroes and to hand on the traditional songs, stories, and
ceremonies that commemorate the ancestors' adventures in that territory.
Neighboring groups help each other and share an obligation to protect
and commemorate that tradition.
Uluru is one of three major
locations in central Australia where the tracks of several ancestral
groups cross. These tracks are often referred to as dreaming tracks and
eventually tie together living desert people throughout central
Australia. At Uluru, local Aborigines take the casual visitor on guided
walks along some of the dreaming tracks. Many areas are out of bounds to
all but the initiated Anangu. Some areas are also off limits to either
male or female members.
When Anangu storytellers recount their
genesis stories, they often point to the rock's features to substantiate
their claims. Because the stories sometimes summarize the detail of the
epic song cycles, different men may tell the same story in different
ways, and on successive occasions one can learn more and more of the
details in a narrative that at first seemed a simple story with little
significance. Let me retell some of the stories that I have heard told
in the shadow of Uluru.
Arisen from slumber.
In the
beginning, before there was any life in the universe, the world was a
flat, featureless plain extending to the horizon. It was unbroken by
mountain range, watercourse, or any typographic feature. This was the
Tjukurpa.
The essence of life then stirred in the land. The
characters of the Tjukurpa rose out of the desert plain where, for
countless ages, they had been slumbering. Some appeared as giant humans,
others were equivalent to plants or animals, and still others were
unlike any known living creature.
These mythical people behaved
like Anangu today; they made fires, dug for water, and performed
ceremonies. They then traveled widely, leaving behind an altered
landscape as a result of their activities. The features of the landscape
are the places of great battles, shelters, grinding stones, and digging
sticks.
Anangu believe that the bodies of Tjukurpa men and women
were often transformed into isolated boulders or piles of rock. The
places became sacred, and Aborigines born near a sacred site
automatically became members of that particular dream ancestor's clan or
totem. The journeys undertaken by the Tjukurpa ancestors are perpetually
relived through stories and songs. And sites of special importance along
the paths they traveled are often named to retain special significance.
The great creators of the land were also the forebears of the
Aborigines themselves. And since everyone claims descent from these
mythical beings, it follows that every man, woman, and child is linked,
though myth and genealogy, to his tribal country. Great events in the
Dreamtime
There is no single story describing how Uluru came
into being because the Anangu do not look upon it as a single spiritual
object. Its formation and specific characteristics are the outcome of
several stories, which are not necessarily connected. The monolith is an
integral part of the landscape crisscrossed by the characters of the
Tjukurpa stories. Having said that, Uluru was initially formed by two
characters known simply as the Two Boys.
How Uluru was formed.
The Two Boys were hunting and traveling together from what is
now South Australia. They became intrigued by the sound of the Mala
Wallaby people holding an inma (a religious ceremony) around a rock hole
that is now part of Kantju Gorge on the northwest face of Uluru. The Two
Boys traveled toward the ceremony to see what was happening. They were
uninitiated and had no knowledge of men's ceremonies. They were curious.
The Mala, meanwhile, were separating into their men's and
women's camps preparing for the inma the next morning. The Mala were in
a dilemma. Shortly after they arrived and began their inma, another
people arrived from the west with an invitation to join their inma. The
Mala had to refuse because they had previously planted a pole in the
ground, and from that moment everything had become a part of their
ceremony.
Now, prior to the inma, even everyday jobs, like
hunting, gathering, and preparing food, collecting water, talking to
people, or just waiting, had to be done in a proper way. This has been
the law for men, women, and children ever since. But for the Mala to
refuse would anger the people from the west.
The Mala continued
their preparations. When they were not dancing, the women gathered food
for the whole group. The women's camp was at Taputji, the small isolated
dome on the northeast side of Uluru. One of their digging sticks can
still be seen here, where it was transformed into stone. The Mala were
soon interrupted by an savage black doglike creature called Kurpany. It
was an evil spirit created by the insulted westerners.
Kurpany
attacked and killed many Mala men, women, and children. In terror, the
remaining Mala fled to the south with Kurpany chasing them. When people
trek along the base of the north face of Uluru, the Anangu believe, they
are surrounded by the Mala Tjukurpa.
During the Mala
preparations the Two Boys began playing at the waterhole, mixing water
with the surrounding earth. They piled up the mud, higher and higher,
until it was the size that Uluru is today. Then they started playing on
it. They sat on the top and slid down the south side of their mud pile
on their bellies, dragging their fingers through the mud in long
channels. The channels have since hardened into stone and now form the
many gullies on the southern side of Uluru. The Two Boys' play was
interrupted when Kurpany attacked and pursued the Mala.
The Two
Boys managed to escape Kurpany's wrath. They resumed their hunting and
searching for water, turning north toward Mount Conner. One boy threw
his wooden club at a hare wallaby, but the club struck the ground and
made a freshwater spring. (The dream ancestors' creative power could be
directed through their artifacts.) This boy refused to tell the other
where he had found the water, and the other boy nearly died of thirst.
They fought and made their way to the tabletopped Mount Conner.
Their bodies are preserved on the summit as boulders.
The python people.
One time, the dream ancestors known
as the Kuniya converged on Uluru from three directions. These people
took the form of pythons. One of the Kuniya women carried her eggs on
her head and buried them at the eastern end of Uluru. Small circular
depressions on Uluru's summit were made when one of the Kuniya people
rested during the creation times in the soft sand of Uluru.
Everything went well then at Uluru. The women set out every day
to gather vegetables, grass seeds, and fruit, while the men captured
kangaroos, emus, and wallabies. While they were camped at Uluru,
however, they were attacked by a party of Liru (poisonous snake)
warriors. On the southwest face of Uluru are pockmarks in the rock, the
scars left by the warriors' spears. Two black-stained watercourses are
the transformed bodies of Liru.
The fight centered around
Mutijulu Gorge, on the south face of the rock. Here a Kuniya woman
fought with her digging stick. The features of the Liru warrior she
attacked can be seen in the west side of Mutitjulu, where his eye, head
wounds (transformed into vertical cracks), and severed nose form part of
the cliff.
The Liru leader and a young Kuniya man engaged in
single combat at Mutitjulu Gorge. They stood face to face and gashed at
each other with their stone knives. On the western face of the gorge are
two long, vertical fissures, which are believed to have been cuts made
on the leg of the Liru leader. Despite his wounds, he continued to fight
and succeeded in slashing the leg of his opponent so badly that the
young Kuniya man was in danger of bleeding to death.
Delirious
from pain and loss of blood, he made a track that is now the watercourse
that flows into the gorge. Here the Kuniya man died, and the places
where he rested as he bled to death are now three pools high up on the
rock face. Above Mutitjulu is Uluru rock hole. This is the home of a
Kuniya who releases the water into Mutitjulu. If it stops flowing during
a drought, the snake can be dislodged by calling "Kuka! Kuka! Kuka!"
(Meat! Meat! Meat!).
On the eastern side of Uluru, at ground
level, are two cylindrical boulders. One is believed to be the
transformed body of Kuniya Ungata, and the other the woman Kuniya
Ingridi. If the Anangu rub one of the stones in the proper season, while
chanting the correct song, they believe the life essence of the pythons
will leave the stones and impregnate female pythons, thereby increasing
the food supply.
From the fire, and the Blue-Tongued Lizard men
survive as two halried boulders.
Trends and life lessons
These Tjukurpa stories are not regarded as dry history. Often,
there is a moral lesson to be taught, and during initiation ceremonies
young Anangu are introduced to the deeper meanings of the ancestral
stories. In the Mita and Lunkata story, the antisocial behavior of the
Blue-Tongued Lizard men illustrates what people think of those who
refuse to divide meat with those entitled to share it, although the
consequences were more dramatic than they might be in everyday life. The
ancient stories teach the many crosscutting economic, political, and
religious obligations associated with the Tjukurpa stories that form the
basis for aboriginal law.
The ancestors who appear in the inma
are described as men and women: They used tools and weapons, but they
also behaved in ways illuminated by their animal counterparts. Another
tale, for example, tells of the Possum ancestor who steals two Carpet
Snake girls from Uluru and ties them up with a love song in the same way
he clings to branches with his curling tail.
The worldview
expressed in the narratives gives meaning to many aspects of traditional
social life. The creation period is remembered as an age when the
consequences of the heroes' behavior established the form of the
everyday world. So the dilemma of the Mala community of Uluru--having to
refuse to help the men from the west prepare for their dances--is said
to explain why today men from Uluru and Kikingkura wear different kinds
of body decoration. And when the Two Boys quarreled over the water that
one, through his selfishness, concealed, they created a division in
language. It was the selfish boy who first spoke a different dialect.
The characters of the Tjukurpa form the aboriginal pantheon. It
is a pragmatic community of individuals with different personalities and
temperaments. Soon after birth, a new arrival to the Anangu is
associated with a specific ancestral being. The identity is based partly
on the birthplace and partly on the child's perceived character. Long
family trees are not found in this society, but by giving each
individual a personal dreaming, the community reaffirms its links to the
past and constantly re-creates the ancestral world. On death, a person
becomes his dreaming. To die and be buried in one's own country ensures
that this will occur.
The idea that ancestral beings shaped the
landscape is known to many white Australians through the awareness of
sacred sites. It is possible to think of the features at such sites as a
living record of the ancestral saga, because a particular being leaves a
visible imprint of his activities at a series of locations. Aboriginal
people can point to them, saying, here is the Blue-Tongued Lizard men's
shelter, here is the emu meat. These stories of the mythical past are
expressed in all forms of aboriginal culture. They are the core of
ceremonial life, the theme of ritualistic songs, the subject of their
art. In these ways, the Aborigines of Uluru keep alive the ties that
bind them so closely to the rock, the great monolith under whose shadow
they were born.