What's it Like?

This much asked question is hard to answer. One of the reasons for the long delay in getting my Warburton blog up and running again - so I could defray this question artfully with 'oh, it's good, why don't you check out my blog for more details' - was that I accidentally lost my book of work scribbles. That wouldn't seem to be a valid reason, were it not for the last page of that book. Scribbled there were all the memory prompts I collected in the first frantic three months of arrival. Waiting for a free moment to relate them online. After moving office and packing for different trips too many times, the book with its precious page has gone missing. With it went my desire to 'rethink' all those interesting blog ideas. Instead you'll have to make do with some fresher, and less inspired, thoughts.

What's it like?

Well, it's different. But not that different. More expensive, but a lot cheaper. Easier, but much harder. (See, not so fresh...)

To make sense of that, here are some examples.

Different:-

• I'm not used to seeing baby camels as pets. He's cute, but a bit noisy. Thankfully, when I was in Warburton, he didn't live on my side of town, so I didn't hear him too much.
• What I could hear without too much trouble from my old house was the sound of the generator. Warburton uses thousands of litres of diesel a week to keep the place ticking over. Being inside the generator shed is a powerful experience. When the power goes off (which has been happening a bit lately, rumour has it that the education department installed split system airconditioners without thinking), the town is quiet. Too quiet. Eerily quiet. I bought candles the other day. Not cute, smelly ones. Simple white ones to put in a handy place I can scramble to in the dark.
• The dark. At Kanpa, there are no streetlights, I can lie in bed and not see a single thing. I can wave my hands in front of my face, less than a centimetre away, and see absolutely nothing. I'm thinking of buying a nightlight. Mamu (spirits) might get me.
• Mamu may have frightened Yarnangu into staying close to camp in the olden days, but with some streetlights and the familiarity of settlement life, Warburton at Night is a different community. While the white staff are ensconced in front of the TV, watching DVDs they've seen before, or chatting on the phone, young people emerge and start to make the place theirs. Apart from the odd rock on my roof, without venturing outside I would forget that there is a whole place out there that I barely know exists, let alone understand.
• Yes, it is pretty hot. Last year, melting butter to make a cake was easy. Just take it out of the fridge and put it into a bowl from the cupboard. Similarly, hot apples were a new experience. Preparing for a humid trekking experience in January by not putting on the airconditioner was a real endurance test.
• Walking to the store, and back home again, in under 5 minutes, is a somewhat easier endurance test. For someone with a pathological dislike of shopping, the easy accessibility of the store does make it just that little bit easier. It even defrays some of the annoyances, like shopping hours that are so limited there is no option but to shop during work hours. Plan ahead or suffer the consequences. Luckily, Warburton has one of the best shops for the range of choices in the vast region between Kalgoorlie and Uluru, so planning (even for my monastic eating habits) is not so onerous.
• Notwithstanding this, the shop does have some logistical challenges. The 'cold truck' arrives fortnightly. It's boom and bust with the yoghurt, fresh milk and - when some poor planning takes effect - vegetables. See a later blog entry for more on the store.

Not different:-

• People. Yep, we're pretty much the same everywhere. I'm not denying culture, but I am denying the immutable presumptions built into the "these people..." statements. Statements that are all too frequently made out here, as if whitefellas don't have cultural mores guiding our actions and beliefs.
• Being in touch. For someone who is chronically feeling 'out of touch' with friends and family, the value of being able to be 'in touch' is now much more appreciated. One weekend, soon after returning from Xmas holidays, I spent a weekend without any phone or email options at all. It is the only time I've really felt isolated in the Lands.
• Stable home and office. The reason stable is such a nice word to use here is that the idea of parking myself each day and evening in the same place, having access to the same regular bale of hay, the same brush down at the end of the long ride, seems to accurately reflect how important it is to have a home and office that isn't constantly changing. My office is a mish-mash of different options, depending on how hot it is, or what sort of work I'm doing (ie computer work, or talking to people). No airconditioner really makes the benefit of having a 'free' phone and a satellite broadband connection seem almost useless. But equally having an office without a regular phone and internet connection is useless. I live in hope.
• Exercise. It's hard to find time to do, wherever I am. While I'm no longer spoiled for choice - walking/jogging on the airstrip being my only really practical form of exercise - it doesn't account for motivation. While the benefits of the regular quiet walk far outweigh the disadvantages, my desire to curl up in bed and hibernate for the winter (regardless of the season) is unchanging.

More expensive:-

• $32 at the shop will buy you one 10L water, one loaf of bread ($3.60), 4 tomatoes ($2), a block of cheese ($8) and a small pack of mixed fruit ($7).

Less expensive:-

• With a weekly rental contribution of $10, and no entertainment options other than free ones on the radio, TV and borrowed DVDs, I should be saving money. Note, I should be. Whether I am or not, depends upon my continuing desire to have a nice little art collection. When I return, no doubt my financial adviser will look at me over my bank statement and heave a little sigh of opportunities lost.

Until next time... Exciting Tall Tales of the Store. Depressing Partnerships with Government. And, hopefully, the Lost Blog Ideas of 2006 Recovered.