The Aboriginal Experience
March 18th 2008 10:34
The Aboriginal Experience
Can you have Monday-itis on a Thursday?
Can you miss your bus to the station; watch the train leave the platform from your next bus, and catch your connecting tram before it runs you over?
I immediately took the first empty seat on the tram, followed closely by a young man, taking the seat across from me.
However, no sooner had this young man rested his bag on his lap than he was hauled to his feet by a large, aboriginal woman. "Women first!" she shouted, shoving him out of the way and taking his seat. "You need that seat?" she shouted to the young man seated next to me.
"No ma'am," he whispered, rising and offering his place.
"Go on," the woman beckoned to the young school girl trying to hang onto the tram strap. "Driver ain't got all day, you know."
The young school girl barely whispered "thank you" before the Aboriginal woman almost shoved her towards the seat.
"Got no manners. Men have to give their seat to a woman. It's good manners," the woman went on. "You got nice skin," she suddenly directed at me.
"Thank you," I said, smiling. The beer in her hand was open and half full. I wondered if she'd start drinking it.
"What nationality are you?"
"Italian," I shared.
"My husband's Italian. Got myself two girls by him."
And her face lit up.
Funnily, the two men she'd admonished for taking seats from women were close by hanging on to the tram straps and her every word.
I genuinely smiled. "How old are your daughters?"
She burped. "Oh, pardon me. Ah, one year old and three year old," she beamed showing her broken and stained teeth. "Today's my birthday and my husband is minding them so I could go out with my friends and celebrate."
A woman of the times, I thought to myself.
She tilted the bottle towards me then took a swig. I rose - my stop was coming up.
"Hey! Where you going? This is my stop too! We're all meeting here as usual."
And at 9:00 am on a weekday, I followed this interesting Aboriginal woman off the tram and watched in awe as she joined the growing crowd congregating outside the local supermarket, drinking, busking, begging and swearing.
I just stood there – mesmerized.
"Hey! What took ya? Where you been hanging out? We been waiting for ya."
And I watched as one after another the group dispersed enough to wish my tram companion a happy birthday. One even produced a guitar and began playing an out of key tune.
I started work late that morning, blaming my tardiness on the public transport system.
Yet all day, amidst the boring deadlines, endless telephone calls and mounting files – I allowed my mind to wander back to the morning tram ride and the privilege of meeting someone who made me smile just by being who she was.
...000…
[ Text and original characters copyright © 2008 by Teresa Strati ]
Can you have Monday-itis on a Thursday?
Can you miss your bus to the station; watch the train leave the platform from your next bus, and catch your connecting tram before it runs you over?
I immediately took the first empty seat on the tram, followed closely by a young man, taking the seat across from me.
However, no sooner had this young man rested his bag on his lap than he was hauled to his feet by a large, aboriginal woman. "Women first!" she shouted, shoving him out of the way and taking his seat. "You need that seat?" she shouted to the young man seated next to me.
"No ma'am," he whispered, rising and offering his place.
"Go on," the woman beckoned to the young school girl trying to hang onto the tram strap. "Driver ain't got all day, you know."
The young school girl barely whispered "thank you" before the Aboriginal woman almost shoved her towards the seat.
"Got no manners. Men have to give their seat to a woman. It's good manners," the woman went on. "You got nice skin," she suddenly directed at me.
"Thank you," I said, smiling. The beer in her hand was open and half full. I wondered if she'd start drinking it.
"What nationality are you?"
"Italian," I shared.
"My husband's Italian. Got myself two girls by him."
And her face lit up.
Funnily, the two men she'd admonished for taking seats from women were close by hanging on to the tram straps and her every word.
I genuinely smiled. "How old are your daughters?"
She burped. "Oh, pardon me. Ah, one year old and three year old," she beamed showing her broken and stained teeth. "Today's my birthday and my husband is minding them so I could go out with my friends and celebrate."
A woman of the times, I thought to myself.
She tilted the bottle towards me then took a swig. I rose - my stop was coming up.
"Hey! Where you going? This is my stop too! We're all meeting here as usual."
And at 9:00 am on a weekday, I followed this interesting Aboriginal woman off the tram and watched in awe as she joined the growing crowd congregating outside the local supermarket, drinking, busking, begging and swearing.
I just stood there – mesmerized.
"Hey! What took ya? Where you been hanging out? We been waiting for ya."
And I watched as one after another the group dispersed enough to wish my tram companion a happy birthday. One even produced a guitar and began playing an out of key tune.
I started work late that morning, blaming my tardiness on the public transport system.
Yet all day, amidst the boring deadlines, endless telephone calls and mounting files – I allowed my mind to wander back to the morning tram ride and the privilege of meeting someone who made me smile just by being who she was.
...000…
[ Text and original characters copyright © 2008 by Teresa Strati ]
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