Today was an exercise in the power of dilemma. I woke at 5:00am to witness the spectacle of Uluru at sunrise. The color and texture was phenomenal. The damper was sharing the experience with about 25 busloads of Japanese tourists, who take a very active approach to appreciating the otherwise naturally quiet sunrise. The other surprise was the howling of dingoes and their intrepid approach to the crowd. Obviously, tourists had fed them on previous mornings, so this was now a conditioned behavior.
Anyway, the dilemma of the day had to do with whether or not to climb the big red Uluru rock. In signs and brochures the Aboriginal leaders request that tourists refrain from climbing. However, official ownership of the rock was not transferred back to the native peoples until 1985, which means that steel stanchions and guide ropes have been installed up the red rock face. Approaching the rock, I could see the “ant trail” of tourists leaving their buses and heading upwards. My conscience was now put into full “blender” mode.
The physical aspects of ascent and return would not be an issue but there would be that nagging in the back of my mind. The exhilaration of viewing uninterrupted desert-scape to every horizon would be stunning.
Very close to the starting point, where one literally must jump the fence to begin the climb, a salty Aussie Tour Bus Guide was giving an introduction to his passengers, near the mouth of a sacred cave. His monologue went something like this; “This is a sacred spot for the Aboriginal people. In the 1950’s we used to use it for a toilette, if you wanted a little privacy in the bush. We used to be able to swim in the pools that form after rain falls and climb anywhere we liked. Now, harrumph.” And, with a disgusted backhand sweep of his hand his lecture was finished. I felt like building an immediate soapbox and countering, “Did you know that this spot has been sacred to the Aboriginal people for more than 50,000 years and that it was only discovered by Europeans in 1927? I think the Aboriginal people just might have the right to claim imminent domain from this spawn of an Anglo convict and his bush bathroom.”
An unsavory fact is that the Australian government did not officially consider the Aboriginal people as human beings until 1969, where they were previously listed like animals by genus and species. To date, they represent the longest continuous human culture in history with over 50,000 years of anthropologic lineage. The Anglo Australian myopic prejudice is still a little stunning with the Aussie version of “Rednecks”, complete with mullets, calling native people “whompas because that is the sound they make when struck by a truck at night.” The previous is in quotes, because it is an actual quote as the term was explained to me.
So, I have no regrets in walking past the point where my sunrise viewing friends were jumping the fence, choosing to ignore the request posted in 10 different languages (including their own). This was still a difficult choice, especially watching them scamper up the rock, enjoying the experience.
Finally, it was a choice of respect for something invisible yet tangible. Similarly to the bus driver, I could understand how their choice of spirituality doesn’t make modern sense but this is “their land” and the foundation of their faith.
By noon everything was shut down in the park. When the temperature exceeds 36C then all trail are closed. So the park really has a two tailed tourist day, early morning and sunset. Today, I headed 30 kilometers away to Kata Tjuta (The Olgas) for a clouded sunset viewing and still managed to catch a little afterglow on Uluru on the return.
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