On Tuesday it was snowing in Montpellier.

On Thursday we reach Uluru.

Had I brought on the thick snow myself so as not to have to leave my children behind?

I know that life goes ever on, and this big burning Red Rock will sooth my sorrows.

You come back to Uluru as you visit an ancestor, a grandfather who tells you your family history.

Aborigines of Australia, this grandfather is also mine, thank you for this gift

He listens to my fears, my doubts.

And my desires.

If you meet this grandfather, he adopts you. So you come back

I am progressing in wider and wider loops and one of them passes through Uluru.

The photos are blinks of the eyes and the Rock makes my heart swell so.

Your loved ones are safe there.

I also feel protected there.

 

Nicole Kurtovitch


You can only arrive in Australia by air or sea. So you can`t get to Uluru without going through Sydney. In my own case, there can be no other route and I always stay a while in Sydney, even if it’s no more than twenty-four hours, long enough to see the Park, the Harbour Bridge, Circular Quay, the old streets where in some places you walk on the worn paving stones laid by 19th century convicts.

The sea, which enters this city through all the available inlets, through all the openings from the land, the sea that even comes in on the wind, is definitely what makes this stop a compulsory one for me. So it still moves me, but subtly, as if it were preparing me for the long desert journey, for the aridity, the heat, the yearning for water and shade that will assail me, I am sure.

In Sydney, I filled up on wetness, crowds, noise, haste, hostile smells and futility as well in equal measure as on old friendships and family remembrances, all of which are important too.

 

 

I travel by air.


Then it was night, above India, the southern part, between Bombay and the southern tip of the sub-continent: Bangalore.

I was between the stars in the sky and the stars on the ground, thousands of farms and smallholdings, big villages, small towns, a multitude of signs of life and wakefulness. I was surprised by so much light, so much electricity in India, right out in the countryside!

 

I don’t like sadness

Under the metal belly

Greetings rise to me from happy gatherings

Around each glowing light

I imagine a thousand peasant women

A thousand fine saris

And all their smiles

 

Those few hours you can’t do without that I was talking about just now.

 

In Sydney

 

 

Hyde Park Sydney

An old woman feeds

The pigeons

On her shoulder

Result

Pigeons

Everywhere in Hyde Park

 

The old woman

Feeds the pigeons

Even that solitary one

Perched on the bench

Result

Hyde Park in Sydney

The best time to walk is dusk

 

The white men say that Uluru, which is situated somewhere in the south-west in the immense Amadeus Basin, has stood where it is, singular and independent, for six million years. The geological formation has developed on a vast area which, nine hundred million years ago, was below sea level or at sea level, a suitable place for sediment to build up, varying in hardness and resistance to erosion, erosion that in these places likes to use different vehicles, like the wind, the rain, flowing water and even the sea. Six times the low-lying ground around the Rock has been submerged, or partially submerged, by the ocean, while the great monolith has always stayed aloof from the fury of the waters whose waves have nevertheless given shapes and designs to the perimeter of Uluru. Today, red are the dunes of red sand brought in by the great winds of the ice ages. Only the most resistant sediments endure and they are Uluru; the others have reverted to dust and continue to disappear, thus creating a perpetual reforming, invisible to the eyes of humans but felt in their hearts.

Such is the geological history as told by the white man, and why not?

There is also the story as told by the other people, those who know, those who have a different way of seeing things.

The great ancestors walked around here, in the time when there was nothing, when all was being created, they liked to take their time and enjoy the immense space around them.

Theirs are the traces to be seen all over the continent and especially in the deserts. Here at Uluru the Mala Hare Wallaby people have left traces of their fight with the Dingo Kurpany and Kuniya the Python Woman is still truly present in her struggle with Liru the Fish Serpent and there are many other stories, many other traces. All this is clearly visible: the Great Ancestors have made sure that all is clear and intelligible for their teaching to enable humans to live safely here. No-one forgets these teachings, on the contrary, the lessons are taught every year, the young ones learn and in the end gain the knowledge. Uluru is a University, an encyclopaedia, a body of life-knowledge, of wisdom, as much as it a place of beauty.

 

Here is the other story.

 

On 13 October 1872, Ernest Giles perceived far off, in the mist, an enormous mass, whether of rock, of stone, of sand, he knew not, but he was to come back the following year. Two months after Mr Goose camped at the foot of Uluru with his camels, he found it pleasing to name the immense monolith Ayer’s Rock after the country’s Prime Minister. He could not have been aware of the name it was known by to the Anangu; the Anangu had chosen to keep their distance when they saw the explorer’s strange procession looming up on the horizon, that vast horizon that leaves nothing hidden.

Goose climbed the Rock.

 

Antakarinja

Pitjantajatjara

Ngatajara

Luritja

Pintupi

Ngarti

Warlpiri

Warumungu

Bularnu

Anmatyerre

Alyawarre

Arrernte

 

These are some of the names of the communities that live in the centre of Australia, in the great desert. They have been there for so long that they know how to read and hear the book of the desert.

They were all there at the ceremony to hand back Uluru Park to the Anunga Community on 26 October 1985.

They are still and always there around us, perhaps they are walking alongside us, hidden in the heart of the Dreamtime spirits of Mala, Liru, Itjaritjari.

 

They have gone

Leaving nothing on the sand

Apart from a song

For fear that we might get lost

 

A word

Only one coming from them

And I will roam unendingly

Around Uluru

Around the world

Around myself

And with cries of joy

Songs of delight

Giant steps

 

If fatigue kills me not

When I leave the plane

I will walk around the Rock

Tomorrow evening I will know

 

A sea of white clouds

Peaks crevices

Cliffs and gullies

Welcome me far above

The red sand continent

It too

Peaks crevices

Cliffs and gullies

Where I’m going

Within walking distance

Traces of red

Uluru is there

Sitting firm on its foundation

Waiting for none

Mirror of visitors

 

Usually deserts

Nothing superfluous

This one sometimes

Nothing

 

First, there is no choice but to stop, because it is late, too late this evening, on one of the parking areas opposite, two kilometres as the crow flies from the Rock.

Where people talk to me

Of Beijing

Of Tokyo

Of Seoul

Of Berlin and elsewhere, of everywhere

While scanning the horizon

The promise they have made

To raise a glass at sunset

 

I have already been here twice, and so can imagine the Rock rising there from the sand, before I see it.

It is wide and long and high, with depressions and protuberances, full and hollow, smooth and rough, light and dark, high and low, dry and damp, with grass around or totally arid, windy and absolutely still, noisy and silent. Here the Rock, with enough volume, has enabled vegetation to grow, the presence of water in some parts, sometimes permanent, more often intermittent, but the sub-soil definitely retains moisture, and the vegetation can meet its meagre needs because the grass is thin, light and springy, the bushes spiky and not very leafy. A few trees which sometimes come together and form a miniature forest where it would feel good to plant your backbone and become a tree yourself.

The rain when it pours down apparently in a great deluge of thick black water, makes Uluru into a quite different place.

 

No chance of rain

What I have seen in photos

Makes me want to be there

Clinging to the side

 

Quite naturally

Naked

In the muddy water

 

To leave at sunrise

To see the sun

On my heart on my soul

Rise over Uluru

 

On the way

Without having taken care

To be caught between sun and moon

 

 

When walking, the matter of shoes is basic, the dream: to walk round Uluru barefoot. The reality, sharp pebbles and upright thorns, rule this idea out straight away. I opt for the minimum, a pair of plastic-leather type sandals. Théo and Emmanuel, two walker friends who have not been to Australia or Uluru and who should think about hurrying there before it is too late, had they been with me, would have opted for the white plastic sandal.

 Nicole, Jonathan and Linda, the rest of the family, who have Uluru experience from previous visits with me, would have made different choices. The two women would have simply elected cautiously to wear tennis shoes, but Jonathan would have made the same choice as me and I’m not sure that he wouldn’t have taken off the sandals after an hour. Whether shod or barefoot, people have crossed and recrossed the earth and continue to do so. Romans, Arabs, Crusaders, Conquerors, Colonisers, Mongols, nomadic hunters, Redskin Indians, Pacific peoples, explorers, sportspeople, or sympathisers, for Western folk, with the ideal of Théodore Monod, man has always had to meet the need to protect his feet without making them too heavy. Otherwise walking becomes a real trial during which he is bound to die. My choice proves to be the right one for me, I have no blisters and no feeling of pain whatsoever.

 

Uluru has four faces (the north face, the east face, the south and the east). Each has its history and these histories involve animals, animal-humans, present, past, destiny. Tjukurpa, imagination and dream.

 

Each of these faces carries on it part of the history of the Anunga people. The rock is the page on which life is written, the folds, colours, small rocks, small protuberances, shadows, holes, peaks, trails left by water when it rains, are the signs of an alphabet that you have to learn to decipher. The children do so from the earliest age, they like the stories about the great ancestors who left traces. Some peoples have cathedrals, archives, knotted ropes, electronic memories; the Anunga have Uluru. They also have songs, genealogies, dances and paintings, from time to time all is renewed, recreated, life starts over again, not only theirs but the life of the whole earth, ours too therefore.

 

“ The Mala performed ceremonies on the north side of Uluru. This time they were doing one restricted to men. The men climbed up and planted the Ngaltawata. At about the same time the Mulga men, who had come from far away, came to convey an invitation to the Mala; unfortunately they refused to interrupt their ceremony, as the pole had already been set. The Mulga decided to punish these Mala by sending the dingo Kurpany. He, alternately snake and bird, and finally dingo when it reached the last dune, decided to attack the women and children rather than the Mala men. The women fled to be close to their men. Kurpany followed them and killed many Mala men. The remains of these poor men are clearly visible on the north side of Uluru as is the stone that is the remains of the woman Lunpa, she who alerted the children so that they would not be exterminated by Kurpany.”

 

Those who are just passing through

Like me, at Uluru

One foot in the sand

One foot on the tarmac

Head perhaps on the top of Uluru

 

The serpent says

Tomorrow at dawn

I will be a river

 

The serpent says

Tomorrow by sunrise

I will be the thunder

 

The serpent says

Tomorrow all the time

Remember

 

The elusive serpent is no more then a line in the stone, a rain shadow, the shadow of the water coming from millennia past, it speaks and tells in its quiet way of the world and humans intertwined.

 

As I pass the north side

The faces of thousands of Aborigines

Come to meditate here

Surge forth before me

 

To cross mountains and ford torrents

Raising no more than a few puffs of red sand

Is all wearying and bends the body

From that weariness surges the sky

Blue only blue straight overhead

Imagine blue sky blue rock

Which emerge with each step on burning sand

Above the curves, lines and peaks

And carry us upward

 

It won’t rain, definitely not, not today and not tomorrow. When I think that the last time we came and left it rained the very next day, rain that had not come in living memory. Apparently there has already been a kind of snow or hail up there at the top, at an elevation of three hundred metres. Too bad. But I could easily see myself spending a whole season tramping the water-soaked rock, walking by the waterfalls, soaked from head to toe, alone. The animals, as usual when there’s no need to stay out, stay deep underground or hide under a dry log, out of habit or wisdom, while I, I remain in my storm dream, in my enthusiasm, in my discovery and in my at last satisfied desire to hear at close quarters the sounds of the first life, that first life, that original life that I feel is so close to the truth, so close to the beginning and at the same time so close at hand, ready to yield itself to me.

 

Too much Cartesianism prevents me from accepting as the only truth the story of origins, that of the ancestor serpent, the bird woman, the breath of life needing constant rekindling. But in the end, what matter the geological, geomorphological, scientific and verifiable truths, these truths have not brought humankind more happiness or more justice or more love or more friendship throughout the world or through the years. The lizard man carries the rainbow on his back and Uluru is held out to me like a ladder; from its back I will leap onto the rainbow that I will ride and there I will meet the white clouds.

 

A bird’s call

To me almost insignificant

Ignorance

Not being able to hear anything

It must be singing to me

Where to place my feet, where to walk

Where to look what to see and not to waste my time

Walking aimlessly around

Ah! To hear in the sound

Of a rolling stone

Fallen from above

More than an impact

To hear the salvation

Complete

Total and joyful

Uplifting, of Uluru

Ring out in my heart

 

I am going

I am

Walking as close as I can to the rock

Its back to be precise

Right shoulder

The whole right side leaning

Brushing against the rock at times

I turn

Belly to touch

Rock and grains of stone

Barely attached

Come off and stick to me

 

Are we so transparent

That in the middle of the Gibson Desert

Naked men and sand

Carry off sadness and ignorance

 

We started to walk round Uluru by the west side, not far from where the ancestors, half- animal, half-human, performed their ceremonies. We walked around the Rock clockwise and the west and north sides are definitely the most mysterious. Crevices, caves, holes, huge gaping lips, mouths with which the rock devours us, but also women’s labia sucking me in as in undiscerning penetration I enter the body of the country. There are huge areas, vertical and perfectly smooth where, there can be no doubt, no human being has ever set foot, only eyes, like mine today can alight and set off dialogue with the stone, with the wind the noises and the shades of grey and red.

 

There is an undeniable female presence at Uluru, of those women who give us life and who nurture us during our first few months of life. However death is never very far away, it can ambush us even when we think we are safe, under the protection of the Rock and of the peacefulness that gradually invests us. As I reread these lines, as I look at these photos, I think of that young man who died so far from home, a week ago. He lived out his very last days in a capsule at the hospital, alone, completely cut off and so far from here and the news of his death caught up with us when we got back from the walk.

 

How he would have liked

Before going

To see Uluru

All covered in red

He would have contemplated himself there

Tall and strong as ever

(David F.)

 

Do not climb Uluru

Do

As the Anunga entreat you

Climb Uluru

In awareness

Assert

Human universality

At the top

Find David’s soul there

As if he were coming back today

To live at Cold Mountain

 

We reach the water hole.

They say that this one never dries up, why should it? The place is ideal; the height of the Rock to halt the clouds, shady trees, bushes for balance and to sooth the aspect, grasses, birds, beaten earth on which to sit near the water and recover your breath, to attune yourself to the time and place, to the peace, restfulness and beauty. I think about the fact that we humans, we are constantly searching for a place where we could be at peace for eternity.

 

 

 

A few trees

Suffice

The tired body finds its place

Here the forest is the mother of all others

 

Futile my friend it is even on this day

As the year closes to song

To try and convince anyone of anything

In the end our bones will mix with dust

 

On the bank of the meagre river

The country of the Dreaming of the honey ant

I try and find the traces of people

Who are following an invisible trail

To the water hole guided by the song

The ancestor leaves us his heritage

A human vision of the world

At the moment of death as the gaze turns to the sky

 

The idea of the Rock entering your life

Veiling the horizon with its dry colour

Over crevices and dark caves

Moving up and over the ridge towards the sky

 

If I could, in a wingbeat, in a single leap, find myself a few kilometres distant, I would have a further view of Uluru. Eyes closed, I let myself go. The spirits come and take me, carry me away with them, deposit me elsewhere, exactly where I wanted to be.

 

The Old Man, Uluru itself, thus seems, lying between two trees, simply asleep, while in going down, the sun leaves a gigantic shadow to cover our hasty steps of people from somewhere else. I imagine, now that he is asleep, that one can weave between the bushes, between the red dunes, those that well up at regular intervals like a magnificent swell of soil and grass, to weave through to the feet of the old man, very close by, to listen to him, to touch him, with emotion to find oneself close to his heart. Here, I will hear the Rainbow Serpent making its way beneath the sand whereas on the surface without my seeing the naked men walk to the Indian Ocean. The heart of the old man accompanies them, it is painted on the rock, it is painted on the sand and on their bodies. The old world gradually unveils itself, because it is loved because it is listened to. On the black skins of the naked men, hands daubed in white retrace the route that the elders first dreamt. Then meet the many lives of today and the life-giving breath of the world.

The path is clear and as the old man will sleep until morning, between two trees, I will hear the voices glide between the branches, as they enter the wood hollowed out by the termites to make a beautiful musical instrument.

 

The spirit of the Wadjinis like a cloud

Above the desert

I am miraculously the spirit bird

To fly over Uluru is not enough

 

Long trails of hard rock

Pinks reds ochres and then nothing

The keys of such an ancient world

Solely that of the heart the spirit empty

 

One step then three not ten thousand

Are like walking round your life

And at the end of Uluru

The horizon turns

 

They my loved ones

Left so far way

Do not have Uluru with them

To walk around

To hear

To the echo of ones own heart

To come to oneself

 

Jonathan and Linda, may have stayed behind in Montpellier but by the magic of love and memory are with us on our walk. This time their names embrace all our friends with whom we would like to share this place and this time. As the path round Uluru passes beneath our feet, it seems impossible to keep just to ourselves everything that our eyes, our ears, all our senses, send to the heart and to the mind.

Just before the end of the walk, at the place called Kuniya Piti, where there is the shade of a few trees but no surface water, I think of Ryokan, that appealing poet, what would he do were he with me?

 

Pockets empty

Completely drained the walk completed

Shifting an old tree stump to sit down on

And find a flask there

 

Kuniya the serpent woman lived far away from here, near Erlunda, to the west. When she laid her eggs she decided to carry them to Uluru, where she herself was born, at the place called Kunya Piti, the easternmost point of Uluru where the tarmac road passes barely fifty metres away from the Rock. On the rock you can see the wavy lines which show the way that she went from time to time to forage for food. Alas, Kuka Kuka, her nephew who came and saw her from time to time was killed by the Liru men, venomous snakes, one even carrying her body to Mutijulu, the water hole situated in the southernmost part of Uluru. Kuka Kuka had infringed the laws of the Liru but her aunt did not know, she didn’t even want to know, she wanted to avenge him, full stop. When she met Liru, she asked him for an explanation, but all he did was laugh, so Kunya threw sand to calm his anger and where the sand fell, the bushes and trees became poisonous. Finally, as Liru continued to laugh even louder, she killed him with a blow from a stick. And still today you can see the blood which stained the rock at this place, Liru’s place. She carried the body of her nephew even closer to the water hole. At that exact spot, both changed into Wanampi or rainbow serpents. They are the protectors and the guardians of the water hole, they make sure it never dries up.

 

Dream of the desert     once in the desert     nothing else matters

 

Memories of Uluru      without having gone back after        today

 

Countless dreams yet

 

The women’s place might be called Kapi Mutijulu, we reach it after two hours, with no shade but up close to the rock. There were two of us for this nine kilometre walk. What I write, she who has been walking with me since the start, she could have written it herself, she has left it to me, and for that I am grateful to her,

Everywhere

Present and attentive

In their silence

They are like Rainbow

When angry Namargon

Punishes his sister

For having been in love

 

The story of Namargon and his sister would be too long to tell. All that is needed is to know that, twenty thousand or more years ago, he had no choice but to change her into the Rainbow Serpent so as to punish her, yet without killing her, for having been in love with a distant cousin. Today’s story hasn’t even kept the name of those times, of those places, but you didn’t take lightly those stories, that period of the founding ancestors, no incest, the desert is sparsely populated. The problem is that today that rule is still followed but I didn’t hear any tale of a Rainbow Serpent wanting to come and curl up in the rocks. This story takes place far from Uluru and yet as far away as we are, we feel the ground tremble when the serpent comes close to people.

 

Walking

I feel our shadow

Shading all of us

From the too-hot sun

It is pointless to stop all over the place

 

This morning I was thinking

The stone will be hot

My hand will not have time to stick to it

In sweat my whole body will be wreathed

The summit of Uluru is apparently like the sea

With waves swell and wind

With careful steps I walk avoiding

The sharp stones and slashing grasses

The branches and twigs that crunch beneath my feet

 

Red sand and grey soles wreathed in dust

 

As we walked, always on the flat because the path we followed neither climbed nor fell, we rose to meet the sky. Sad thoughts, or aggressive ones, small sufferings due to too much ego, interest in things we know all too well to be futile, too futile, gradually disappeared, as if diluted by each footstep, transformed into vapour by the heat of the place. A heat due not only to the desert temperature. An inner warmth equally strong; similar to that which the yogis of Tibet create inside their bodies, when, in their meditation they manage to dry on their bodies the sheets that have been soaked in water.

Unfortunately, we also have to walk on the road, which is sealed, marked out with yellow and white lines, without any potholes or bumps, no grass growing up in the middle, and the grass along the sides ends exactly on the edge of the road. Why did the people concerned, Aborigines and rangers, not build a dirt road and route it further away, at least a hundred meters from the Rock? If people want to drive round, why not, I am sure that no-one would complain if the drive round had to be done slowly because of the road surface, and they would appreciate the bumping and dust as much as the shapes of Uluru.

As we approach the end of the walk, our starting point, we expect silence. We aspire to silence, tranquillity and the feeling of solemn contemplation it affords. We hope to possess the ultimate moments of beauty by clinging as close as possible to the rock of the Rock, the water of the waterhole, the grass in the shade of the few trees, the impalpable presence of the benevolent spirits of the sages who have passed through Uluru, in the evening of their life on earth. After a while, if we keep our eyes firmly focussed on the path with each step, the work does itself. It just happens, without our wishing it, the door just had to be opened at the beginning, we had to reject the picturesque, the strange, the curious, the interesting, the informative, the search for knowledge, all forms of thought. We talk of magic, why not, this is the modus operandi that serenity uses to manifest itself. There, around Uluru, there is something quite different from peaceful countryside, something quite different from a restful spiritual atmosphere, with no tomorrow. This ‘something’ is the walking of a path to the middle, the middle of self, the middle of the world, but it is only definable and understandable to oneself. Anyone else can just walk the path, and the path will, if the person leaves his or her intuition free expression, bring out the awareness of that which he or she needs, that which he or she desires. The simplicity of the place, the lack of human presence, have enabled me to grasp the fact that beyond reasoning, non-attachment is not non-interest, but that it is a total presence, a complete presence, in the world. Uluru reveals, not putative secrets of the world, no, but quite simply, and that is enough to continue one`s life in betterness, a part of one`s own being, one`s own love, one`s own joy.

 

 

The horizon   hidden behind the dust    neither sky nor summit    Uluru fades

 

Redfern is far   far  away from Uluru    submerged in Sydney

 

Potholed roads   beer blood and crack   nothing ideal

 

The Dreamtime  can no longer be     if it is not also at Redfern

 

The Australians of the origin    are dying in the city    impossible to be in the desert

 

In run-down Redfern   the red of the houses    recalls the beauty of the desert  

 

The painters    some Abos in town    Paint the desert    

 

On torn-off car doors  Their heart of red sand

 

Their loose teeth    are the rocks that have tumbled from Uluru

 

 

Nicole Nicolas Kurtovitch    February 2000