Sunday, June 05, 2005
preparing to lash 
The “tongue lashing” temple just around the corner lit up with sights and sounds of wonder through the week. Their main festival that always takes place at the start of June, culminates in a few spazzies off their heads on betel nut, scraping their tongues with some kind of divine fork. In a trance-like state, they don’t seem to notice the pain, but I’d like to see them the next day. Early in the evening, before they got too out of it, I wandered up, camera in hand to try to get a few shots. The garish makeup and motifs are a little Pacific Island in their design and they seemed more than happy for me to snap some shots, one fellow with more than a couple of beers on board insisting that he took one of me with the leader of the tongue lashing youth.
The night rolled on and on, smell of gunpowder heavy in the still night air as various drumming and fire rituals reached their climax with the lighting of firecrackers which screamed high into the night exploding with a deafening noise to the great amusement of the crowd below. Virg’n Mary were far from amused and their eyes were quite wild with fear as the noise went on. Eventually the crowd calmed a bit, but when we went through the park the next morning on the way to school and there was a great mess everywhere; obviously it was a big night had by all!
I got quite a bad cold on Thursday and had Friday off school and also missed our respected and departing superintendent’s farewell at the American Club. Cass went along and flew the flag and reported that although the night of speeches and reminiscing had more of a funereal feel to it, it was a fairly fitting send off to the big man. Mark Ulfers was the man who interviewed us in Sydney all those years ago and hired us both and we owe him a great debt of gratitude. He fought hard to make sure we got here and we hope we’ve repaid his faith in us: we’re pretty sure we have. Those who know me well will be surprised to read that I have an amazing respect for this man: usually my feelings for my professional administrators has been less than strong, occasionally bordering on disdain. This man is a far cry from anyone we have ever worked for, or for that matter, heard about.
Suffice to say, he commands an almost universal respect, he is the consummate politician with the uncanny knack of making you feel like a very important cog in the massive machine he runs. We’ll miss him very much. (this is starting to sound like an obituary too…he is actually very much alive and well and taking up a similar post in Germany!)
Well, this time has been a long time coming! Just 4 more days of work and then home again for our big break. These four years have flown by and the year 7s we taught in our final year at Grammar are now in their final months of school in year 12. What a fantastic time we’ve had! It’s a little hard to remember our past working lives in any real detail…maybe that’s a good thing!
See you soon….
The “tongue lashing” temple just around the corner lit up with sights and sounds of wonder through the week. Their main festival that always takes place at the start of June, culminates in a few spazzies off their heads on betel nut, scraping their tongues with some kind of divine fork. In a trance-like state, they don’t seem to notice the pain, but I’d like to see them the next day. Early in the evening, before they got too out of it, I wandered up, camera in hand to try to get a few shots. The garish makeup and motifs are a little Pacific Island in their design and they seemed more than happy for me to snap some shots, one fellow with more than a couple of beers on board insisting that he took one of me with the leader of the tongue lashing youth.
The night rolled on and on, smell of gunpowder heavy in the still night air as various drumming and fire rituals reached their climax with the lighting of firecrackers which screamed high into the night exploding with a deafening noise to the great amusement of the crowd below. Virg’n Mary were far from amused and their eyes were quite wild with fear as the noise went on. Eventually the crowd calmed a bit, but when we went through the park the next morning on the way to school and there was a great mess everywhere; obviously it was a big night had by all!
I got quite a bad cold on Thursday and had Friday off school and also missed our respected and departing superintendent’s farewell at the American Club. Cass went along and flew the flag and reported that although the night of speeches and reminiscing had more of a funereal feel to it, it was a fairly fitting send off to the big man. Mark Ulfers was the man who interviewed us in Sydney all those years ago and hired us both and we owe him a great debt of gratitude. He fought hard to make sure we got here and we hope we’ve repaid his faith in us: we’re pretty sure we have. Those who know me well will be surprised to read that I have an amazing respect for this man: usually my feelings for my professional administrators has been less than strong, occasionally bordering on disdain. This man is a far cry from anyone we have ever worked for, or for that matter, heard about.
Suffice to say, he commands an almost universal respect, he is the consummate politician with the uncanny knack of making you feel like a very important cog in the massive machine he runs. We’ll miss him very much. (this is starting to sound like an obituary too…he is actually very much alive and well and taking up a similar post in Germany!)
Well, this time has been a long time coming! Just 4 more days of work and then home again for our big break. These four years have flown by and the year 7s we taught in our final year at Grammar are now in their final months of school in year 12. What a fantastic time we’ve had! It’s a little hard to remember our past working lives in any real detail…maybe that’s a good thing!
See you soon….
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