“This country is a spiritual thing. We need to protect Mother Earth. And we do that by standing up individually protecting Mother Earth. When we come together to do it then we make one hell of a noise… We still have over 300 hectares of this forest to save. It's sitting there as a conservation zone and it is up to be mined. That is where we're going, the next direction to stop that. So not only you, the white people and the Aboriginal people, we have to come together as one to do this. We have to do it together. We have people from all different tribes. We have people from all different countries but when you make one country to live in it's your part to protect. Everybody.”
Silence ensued and every head in the forest bowed.
Later that evening, watching a traditional tribal dance, I slipped into conversation with the woman beside me. The topic began with the dancers but soon drifted toward Wollumbin, and became a heart-felt discussion of the future of the forests. As the woman spoke, her eyes continually flickered somewhere mine could not follow, and her forehead creased with an anguish that mine had never known. She reached out to touch my wrist and said something that has never left me:
“The forests serve as a link for our people in the twentieth century to pass their dreams and desires from one generation to the next. Our respect for the forest, the land, defines our relationship with the whole world. That is the very opposite of the society in which Aboriginal people are now forced to live as the result of the invasion of our continent by the Europeans two hundred years ago.”
Resting on the wooden bench at Wollumbin's base, beside the sign that embodies a history of Australia's cultural conflict, I ask a passer-by her reflections upon the mountain's spiritual significance. Margaret Taylor, aged 42, replies:
“I read in the car on the way here that Aboriginal people ask people to consider not climbing the mountain because of cultural reasons. I guess it's one of those things. That's why we were coming here in a way and I sort of respect their beliefs and their feelings but I guess it's for everyone.”
Margaret shrugs and smiles, then turns to begin the hike.
I guess it is one of those things. The scars of European colonization extend throughout Australia. They flow through time, land and people. Wollumbin evokes many questions that seem to have no right answers. Perhaps no answers at all. The warrior chief watches silently, as I stand and glance between the two paths paved by man. The sign of the Bundjalung Tribe stands beside him, small and humble.
Visitors are asked to respect the cultural and historical significance of Wollumbin at all times.
The sign remembers the Dreamtime in a world where Dreams have been forgotten. I vow I won't forget. I return the way I came.
