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History

What do you really know?

Angeline Penrith

A bit more knowledge of Aboriginal history would go a long way in taking down the assumptions and stereotypes against which Aboriginal kids struggle every day.  

I don't play sport, I just don't enjoy it. I don't know the rules to footy, and wouldn't know what to do with a cricket bat, and don't want to spend hours running in circles around a field. But that's not what people assume when they meet me.

I come from a really successful family. We've had sporting stars, school captains, school duxes, readers, thinkers, leaders in all kinds of fields. But that's not what people assume when they pass me on the street.

I come from a proud people, an ancient nation, and a strong community that's survived genocide, and forced removal, and grand theft, but that's not what people think about when they shake my hand.

That's not what they think about, because they are ignorant. 

Selected lines from Time-Line-English Poetry

Excerpt;

63 Lo!Where the heath,with withering brake grown o'er,

Lends the light turf that warms the neighbouring poor,

From thence a length of burning sand appears,

Where the thin harvest waves its withered ears;

Rank weeds, that every art and care defy,

Reign o'er the land and rob the blighted rye:

There thistles stretch their prickly arms afar

And to the ragged infant threaten war;

There poppies nodding, mock the hope of toil;

There the blue bugloss paints the sterile soil;

Hardy and high, above the slender sheaf,

The slimy mallow waves her silky leaf,

The Great Game Mark II

Warren ReedImmortalised by Kipling in 1901, at a time when Central Asia was seen by many strategists as the geopolitical centre of the world, now, in the early part of another century, 'The Great Game' is on again.

The first "Great Game" between Tsarist Russia and Britain was never cricket. It was a battle of wits and wills, and often a deadly one. For much of the 19th century, these two powers fought a secret war across Central Asia, vying for the allegiance of powerful khans. Russia was expanding its empire and Britain was determined to protect the jewel in its colonial crown - India. Espionage came into its own at this time, and every imaginable disguise was put to use, whether that of a mendicant monk or camel trader.

The British writer, Rudyard Kipling, immortalised the term "Great Game" in his novel Kim in 1901, at a time when Central Asia was seen by many strategists as the geopolitical centre of the world.

Now, in the early part of another century, the battle's on again. But this time it's not so much for control of territory as it is for access to the region's rich reserves of oil and gas, as well as to its abundance of minerals. Also tantalising are its markets and huge reserves of petro-dollars, which more and more are being pumped into infrastructure projects as large numbers of people move into urban areas and demand electricity, water, transportation and telecommunications.

The axis that runs through the region extends from Shanghai to Istanbul, and for much of its length follows the route of the ancient Silk Road. Nowadays it is increasingly crisscrossed by pipelines and railways, for which reason some call it the "Iron Silk Road". The Stans - once part of the underbelly of the old Soviet Union - straddle this corridor, with a resurgent Russia across the top, China at one end and India below.

Symbolic of the new dialogue in the region is the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO) that was set up in 2001 by Russia and China, with Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan as members. India, Iran, Pakistan and Mongolia have observer status. Originally a loose security alliance, it now covers energy, nuclear power, the fight against organised crime and terrorism, plus health and education.

Lost in Commerce

This is an excerpt from an article 'Earthly Matters' by Rina Saeed Khan in The Review Dawn Aug 28-Sept 3 2008. the-review@dawn.com and http://dawn.com .........this goes to show the before and after effect of changes which alter the looks of a once favorite spot. I can fully empathise with the feelings expressed by the writer.

(Also read, I suggest "Salute to the worker, who works for the "Green" cause". In foggy’ s blog, in openforum.com.au ....of 21/05/2008. Key words: favorite spot. Thank you).

Excerpt:

The Gruen Transfer

By Dr Nicholas Gruen 

Those with an unusual surname have to get used to spelling it.  No it's not Gluner.  Not Glueball or Grewbie it's Gruen "G-R-U-E-N".  The compensation is,  your name identifies you or a family member pretty clearly.

Salute to the worker, who works for the”Green” cause

How many people since the planet Earth was created must have had their favorite spots? Favorite spots of children are the ones remembered the best. When you see the map of the world you can be sure, that there are many such places of unpolluted beauty, far away from populated centres, which maybe the favorite spots of people living there. When one comes close to thinking of cities and their surroundings the chance of having a clean, clear, place of natural beauty becomes slim. Maybe 50 or 100 years back, here might have been such favorite spots. But now the count is diminishing. How many of the world's total populace of billions have had their favorite spots? How many of them cared they had? Yet how many swallowed their pride, curbed their anger, blinked away their tears, kept silent, did not know how to speak about their favorite spot which was also their secret place... when they found this secret place was there no more!! Lost to rapid modern construction and development work more often than not unplanned and indiscriminate. Or succumbed to a wave of pollution, toxic seepage from intervening industrial influences, overtaking the scenic beauty including your Favorite Spot?!

How many parents, taking their children back to their hometowns on a visit, hometowns from where they had migrated long time ago; made plans, almost having the sanctity of a pilgrimage to their favorite spots of their childhood days? How many stories they had told their offspring about this place, and how many times were the same stories told? And after building up the excitement in their little children's heads, they reached the place where their favorite haunt was-to find-it is not, anymore. It is just Not there... Not even a bit, not even a tail-end. It must be on the other side, hidden behind that structure! No it is not! Or maybe their favorite spot is now, eaten up by pollutants and toxic waste, its not just an eyeful of a sad degraded waste, pool of dirt, sludge and slime, or burnt out vegetation. Flowers have left for some eternal abode. No birds, no plump, furry animals , cute with sounds of peace and chirrups melting like music in your ears. No that is not enough, the nose wants to be a party to the protest. The place just stinks. Repel. Disgust. In the olden days, when people returned to the places they had left several years ago, the places were still there. The scenes of life being painted and repeated, with humans, birds, animals and flowers, like a classic painting by the old masters. Or for the children like a Disney film animation, when pages of opening books follow a brush moving into scenes of Disney's wonderland.