Have you ever heard an Australian Raven? If you haven’t, good on you. It is precisely the cries of someone in his death throes. I feel startled every time I hear it even after knowing exactly what to expect from that species. Right now, a couple of noisy miners are haranguing the Ravens and I do not know why. The dispute started between the Miners and now everyone is drawn into it. It will be a while before I can rest again, listening to the much-loved chorus of cicadas. It is not until I arrived here and heard them did I recall how enchanted I was by them as a child and while growing up. And how much I missed them! Even on a hot afternoon, when everything is still and not a sign of a cool breeze, their sharp, rhythmic notes are so comforting. Sometimes a trill of a little bird that I cannot identify, a warbling magpie, and squeaking of assorted parrots accompany them. All’s well in the world.
Or not. I have not been sick in the second week. But I cannot say I have been well either. I am in limbo with so many others in Canberra, who keeps checking on each other if they are alright. What a random phrase to use when bracing ourselves to the apocalypse! Now and then, the air clears for a brief moment, giving us some respite. And then the smoke blows over from the Braidwood. We need a new definition of ‘alright’ in these circumstances. Every day is a matter of wondering which room is closed and better to work in, which way should we place the fan to keep out the smoke – in essence, we are negotiating with inevitable writing on the wall. At times, we even run out of meaningful things to say. This week, someone asked me if I was ok with the smoke! Why, I am a fire breathing dragon myself. It should be alright!
Well, it is not all grief. There is plenty to laugh about when complaining about Scott Morrison’s trashy politics. I am, almost always, straddling between either too much coffee or too much data. There are rare (and unfortunate) moments when the two intersect. I am accustomed to withstanding coffee, for technically, there is nothing like too much of it. But then, data? Especially when everyone has different ideas about my PhD. I have gradually realised that explaining it in different sets of words doesn’t really help. I should stay alert, keep vigil and prey on the most random or the most remotely relevant idea that is passing by. Just like a Kingfisher hunting for a fish on the edge of the lake. In my case, the success of the hunt is not entirely contingent on my precision though. People tell me everything that interests them. This week, I have accumulated tons of legislation from Queensland – Water Act, Land Act, Air Act, Planning Permits. Someone brought me a cup of flat white and insights from Papua New Guinea – both, at that time, looked like an overdose. For heavens, since when have I started working on PNG?!
End of the day, all the amusement aside, I can always come back home and find the Eastern Rosellas teasing me from the treetops. They are highly suspicious. I have never seen anyone so leery of me, mostly because my species doesn’t treat me to be an adequate threat. It took a great deal of effort and manoeuvring (and even alarming a couple of magpies around) to get a couple of shoddy shots of the birds from between the entangled leaves and branches. Those efforts at the end of the day restore you and make you forget the fact that you are up here in this strange place, pitted against a vast emptiness, on a wild goose chase.
Academia here is, umm, I am not sure. I have come at a time when everyone is busy planning their vacation. But I have a suspicion that even if I had come at another time, it would have made little difference. They do not look like they have been chased by a devil and work every minute of their living life. But then, there are coteries, self-congratulatory/mutual admiration clubs. Same white, male academics promoting themselves at the slightest opportunity they are provided. Ask them a question and there is a standard response of: ‘Oh, it is all in my book’. Damn, it isn’t! And I am sitting in front of you – so you tell me now!! It is fairly disheartening to see the culture of suspicion and distrust follow you around the world. You walk out of an interview, having learnt so little or literally nothing but worrying intensely whether you have just given away your ideas gratuitously to someone with higher reputational capital. Perhaps, it will be out in a REF-worthy journal even before I get home. Ha, such is grad-life!
I was chatting with my collaborator from Heidelberg over the email. A woman and a wonderful one at that. She sent me a long email updating me with the project that hasn’t even begun and of which I am a part. It is incredible how much attention she paid to details and took pains to explain the difficulties, administrative hurdles, what is to expect (neither of us knows, btw) and what may not come to fruition. That is what women academics do (or at least most of us). We care for the work we do and care for the people we work with. A sense of sharing and solidarity is a real thing. Anyway, the conversation turned towards how lonely people in Canberra are and she remembered her time here when everybody seemed like they never wanted to be here. I can vouch for that. People here seem to suffer from acute isolation that they cannot fathom or deal with. I haven’t gotten away with a single conversation in under 30 minutes. A new person in town and everyone just opens up the backlog of words that they have held on to! Except for male academics of course. For instance, when I went to chat with the Professor, I had to wait in the lounge. The person before me was having his way with the words with utter disregard for everyone’s time. So, my five-minute wait became a twenty-minute ordeal and in the meanwhile, his secretary scooped me up. The poor woman sounded so desperate for a conversation that I ended up learning her family story that began in Macedonia, leading up to the entire family’s migration in instalments to Wollongong. I am now richer with the knowledge of her life in Canberra, her routine, her favourite TV shows… And of course, there was a point in time, I was desperately waiting for a creek of the door or approaching footsteps because the information overload was too much to handle. She seemed rather sad to let me go eventually.
This week has had a couple of coffee threats materialising. Someone went on about forestry and sugarcane farms. Never mind. The worst parts of the week were those evenings that brought smoke storms out of the blue. There was one particular evening when I was working peacefully on the couch, listening to an incessant magpie song. I was startled by an engulfing smoke – nearly thought I had burnt something in the kitchen and that the house was on fire. Oh, it’s nothing! Just an ordinary planet on fire.
To end, I watched Knives Out this week. Impromptu plan. But boy, that’s the movie of the year!! Just watch and unwind. It’s a 10/10 for an incredibly sharp script, fantastic acting, cinematography… go on! You name it. A classic whodunit but something you need to watch more than once as there is much to soak up.
Post script: I got the Superb Fairy-Wren today. I almost pleaded it not to fly away. Couldn’t stop it from hopping, though. Thankfully, it stayed on long enough for me to have nice shots – most of them ruined due to the constant movement of the bird. A couple of them, funny and memorable.
Defiant Ecologies 