Day 3: The Ghan/Uluru/Darwin.

After I finished yesterday’s post, I decided to go and visit the School of the Air.

The School of the Air was started in the 50’s, bringing education to the children living on far-flung properties across the Northern Territory. The woman who started it was a teacher and she realised that if the mothers on these cattle stations didn’t give their kids an education, then they simply didn’t get one.

We all found out during the COVID lockdowns how rare it is to find a parent eager to take on their children’s education! It was the same back then.

I found this tour fascinating. I was the only one there, so I suppose I had a very personalised experience, which is fine by me!

When it started, the classes were all done by radio. The first classes were done by a teacher talking into a microphone and broadcasting to a particular cattle station or roadhouse. She had no way of knowing if the kids were fighting, listening, or if they were even there!

(The following photos are all “quilts.” They give the kids a theme, and the kids make their patch at home and bring it with them when they come into Alice Springs for one of their social weeks. They put the “quilt together as a group. )

When the two-way radio came in, things became a lot better. One of the women I was talking to was a teacher during this time. She said that if she couldn’t hear a particular student, she’d ask the other kids if they could hear him. If someone said yes, then they’d relay what the teacher said, and if the ‘silent’ kid had a question, he’d ask his mate and he’d relay the question to the teacher and the answer to the student.

Nowadays, it’s all run by satellite, which is subsidised by the NT government. It’s much more flexible, meaning that if the parents want to dig a bore, for example, they’ll take the kids and tutor with them. When it’s time for the face-to-face lesson, the kid will log on, have the lesson, then go back and help the parents and do the schoolwork when they get home.

Kids living on trucks or travelling around Australia also benefit from the flexibility.

(This ‘quilt ‘ was made from metal. The kids had to design a patch showing what their home produced.)

Each family has to have a tutor. Sometimes it’s one of the parents, but most families hire one. Each child has half an hour face-to-face with their teacher each day. The rest of the time, they’re working through material that is mailed to them every two weeks.

The socialisation of these kids is looked after as best they can. Four times a year they all come together in Alice Springs. The kids get to see their friends in real life and interact with them. They get taught swimming, they perform plays and generally have a good time. Most of them won’t go to a “regular” school until year 10 when they’ll board in Alice Springs or interstate.

(I liked this one the best. It’s the kids from a local police station, and they’ve put handcuffs on it!)

Having taught through the first two lockdowns in 2020, I know how hard the teachers must work to make the classes interesting and engaging. It sounds like an easy gig, but it certainly wouldn’t be.

As we were talking, I mentioned that after I drop the Ligas off at Uluru on their Crazy Road Trip, I was thinking that maybe I’ll come up to stay in Alice Springs for a couple of days.

The woman I was talking to lit up. She’s now sold me on the idea of going to the Alice Springs Desert Park. David Attenborough rates it as one of the 5 best parks of its type and he’s visited it twice. I’m thinking I could do some walks, see the Park, then go home.

This is where my life may have changed. This woman suggested that I drive up to Tennant Creek, then turn right, head across for a bit, go down through Dubbo and instead of going home, go straight to my Snowy Mountains holiday.

Hmmm….

At 3 PM, we all met up for the beginning of the Red Centre part of the tour. Unfortunately, we’re a full bus of around 20 people, so I’m going to have to share my seat with someone else. There are 4 solo women travelling, so we’ll work it out.

We were taken to see John Flynn’s grave. His ashes are buried under this rock.

John Flynn began the Royal Flying Doctor Service and by doing so, he saved countless lives in the Northern Territory and beyond. He had the idea for ages, but was spurred on by the story of what happened to a guy called Jim Darcy in 1917.

Jim was an aboriginal stockman who was thrown by his horse when there was a cattle stampede. He was badly trampled. His mates took him to the nearest house and they radioed Perth for help. 2 doctors were servicing the whole of Western Australia at that time, and both were busy. Not surprising… have a look at the map of Australia and see how big WA is.

His mates suspected that he had internal injuries such as a ruptured bladder, so they decided to operate.

The local postmaster did the honours, with his mates holding him down, because there was no anaesthetic. The postman sewed up what he could, and they waited for the doctor to come. This only prolonged the inevitable, and Jim Darcy died 2 weeks later, a day before the doctor finally arrived.

Can you imagine??

The School of the Air used the same tech as the Flying Doctors. Both services changed life in the Outback from then on. People were no longer quite so isolated.

When Flynn died in 1951, he requested to be buried in the Outback. People went to the Devils Marbles to grab a rock. Later, when Land Rights started to become a thing, there was a huge stink kicked up because the Devils Marbles is a sacred site and so the rock might be sacred. There was a lot of argy-bargy, but in the end, sanity prevailed. They took the rock back, went outside the sacred site and chose another one that looked identical. This is the rock we see today.

Flynn is on the $20 bill, not that we see too much “real” money nowadays.

After a swing by Anzac Hill, which I saw yesterday, we went back to the hotel. The people on the tour seem nice, so I’m optimistic about the fun we’ll have. Tomorrow is a WALKING DAY, with Stanley Gorge and Ormiston Something-Or-Other, so my time in the walking group with Blogless Sandy will come in handy.

Guess what Tracey the bus driver said to us?

In a climate like this, if you’re walking you should be drinking a LITRE of water an HOUR.

omg

Also, just over one of the ranges is Pine Gap, the US Intelligence base. The tour guide, Colin, said “It’s a very well-maintained base. Whenever you meet someone from there, they’re always a gardener or a janitor or something like that. No one ever seems to have a job that actually involves army intelligence!”

***

I thought I was finished for today, but I’ve just come back from dinner.

OH MY GOD HELP ME NOW!

There are 4 solo women. I had dinner at a table with one of them, while the other two were at another table.

Jill is the most vapid, boring woman I’ve come across in a month of Sundays.

Stupid, too. She was talking about all sorts of racist stuff about her Chinese Great Grandfather WHILE WE WERE SHARING A TABLE WITH TWO THAI/AMERICANS. For goodness sake – read the room, lady!

Kill Me Now. The other two women looked like they were bonding beautifully.

My problem is that the bus is full, so the 4 single ladies will have to sit next to someone. If I have to sit next to Jill for the next 6 days, I won’t be a happy camper. My only hope is that I suggest that we rotate sharing seats, so I only have to deal 1:1 with her for a couple of days, not the whole trip.

Ugh. Just venting. It was awful. The only good thing was that she went to bed early, so we three had a great talk after she left. They’re a father and son – the wife/mother died 6 months ago so they’re travelling together to give the Dad something to do that’s positive. I love that they’re doing a father/son experience. It should be a THING, like a rite of passage. They clearly love each other – it was good to see.

But I think it won’t be too long before I’ll be actively avoiding Jill.

Dad joke of the Day: