Yanagai! Yanagai! Page 2
Large, wooden, clunky puppets with squeaky wheels represent a herd of cows. On cue, they raise their tails and shit. A giant cod puppet floats magically in the space, playing, swimming and teasing in the ancient watery playground below Uncle’s camp.
Timezoned in The Dreaming, present and future, a clan of storytellers have banded together to remember a beautiful place they once knew. Together they tell stories that happened thousands of years ago. Some stories are told so that they may be remembered; others are told so that they may never happen again.
ACT ONE
SCENE ONE: STORYTELLERS’ FANTASY
Four STORYTELLERS stand in an empty grey space, their eyes closed. Finally, they speak.
TELLER 1: We are here.
TELLER 2: We are here.
TELLER 3: We are here
TELLER 4: We are here.
TELLER 3: Expansive blue sky. Bright sun. Biami looking down on us.
TELLER 4: Clumps of Murray pine. Standing strong on the sand.
TELLER 2: Birds.
TELLER 3: Fish.
TELLER 4: Turtles.
TELLER 1: Circling eagles.
TELLER 3: Frogs.
TELLER 1: There are thousands of trees.
TELLER 3: As far as the eye can see.
TELLER 1: Redgum.
TELLER 4: Like blood.
ALL: [together] Our blood.
TELLER 2: The People.
TELLER 4: Forever.
TELLER 3: The trees hush and sing.
TELLER 1: They hold our spirits.
TELLER 2: The grass is soft beneath our feet. The earth is cool.
TELLER 1: The air is clean.
TELLER 3: And quiet.
ALL: [together] Sshhhh!
Pause.
TELLER 3: The distant sound of the eagle.
TELLER 4: Crow.
TELLER 1: The corellas.
TELLER 2: Thousands of birdcalls. The flat grassy floor. Heavy air. Am I underwater?
TELLER 3: In this place there are thousands of reeds.
TELLER 1: Spears!
TELLER 4: The tallest in the world.
TELLER 2: Flood marks on the trees. At head height. The smell of water. Grainy sand crunching underfoot.
TELLER 1: And the river?
TELLER 2: Our beautiful river.
TELLER 4: Flowing. Ever on.
TELLER 2: Chocolatey brown. A few shades lighter than my grandfather’s skin.
TELLER 3: The river is pure.
TELLER 4: We see right down.
TELLER 1: To the bottom.
TELLER 2: We see turtles!
TELLER 1: And fish.
TELLER 4: We call that one ‘burnanga’.
TELLER 2: Murray cod.
TELLER 3: Big ones.
ALL: [together] That big!
TELLER 3: True!
TELLER 2: Heavy canoe cut from tree. Toe holes in the trunk. Thank you, tree. Poling down the river. Fire on the canoe. Catch ’em fish and eat ’em up.
TELLER 1: We dive into that river.
TELLER 2: Dhungala.
TELLER 3: Our life blood.
TELLER 1: We float.
TELLER 4: She carries us wherever we want to go.
TELLER 1: To the lake!
TELLER 3: The lake!
TELLER 2: Moira.
TELLER 4: Our beautiful lady!
TELLER 1: Full!
TELLER 3: Full and clear and bright.
TELLER 4: Where the eagles fly!
TELLER 2: Ducks’ wings hit the water. Bird chatter never stops.
TELLER 3: That one over there squawks like my sister.
TELLER 2: Wind high in the trees. A shiver in the reeds. Is there anyone in there?
ALL: [together] Sshhhh.
TELLER 4: Children laughing.
TELLER 1: Words echoing.
TELLER 3: So much to eat! Emu, kangaroo, yabbies, fish cooked in clay…
ALL: [together] We’re full!
TELLER 3: [recited under the dialogue which follows] … possum, and turtles and swans and their eggs and ducks, snakes, goanna, lizard, big cod, mussels, duck dive for them, bush tomatoes, witchetty grubs, berries, yams. Good tucker.
The list is repeated until TELLER 2 says, ‘When we speak’.
A soft rumbling of thunder.
TELLER 1: We can’t move.
TELLER 4: Full of tucker!
TELLER 2: We have nothing to do.
TELLER 4: Just be here.
TELLER 1: And laugh and love.
TELLER 2 begins to sing a song in language.
TELLER 4: And tell stories.
TELLER 1: Thousands and thousands of stories.
TELLER 4: That fill us with knowing and comfort.
TELLER 1: And sometimes fear. When we speak—
TELLER 4: This beautiful language!
TELLER 1: Like honey.
TELLER 4: This language tastes good.
TELLER 1: It is ours!
They speak their language, enjoying every word.
Wardakau-nga nginiun yirriki-n. [‘A kangaroo scratched me.’]
TELLER 4: Dhoma nynini yalka. [‘My dear child.’]
TELLER 3: Yalka daya-n baka narrak. [‘The child is playing with the dog.’]
TELLER 1: Ngini bana won-deya. [‘Here is a possum for you.’]
TELLER 3: Galnya maaan winyarri-in. [‘The woman’s face is pretty.’]
TELLER 4: Yakarrumdja marri-bak. [‘Come on, let’s bathe.’]
They sense someone approaching to threaten their language.
TELLER 1: Wanin nyana? [‘Where are you from?’]
TELLER 3: Wanin nyana? [‘Where are you from?’]
TELLER 1: Ngina gaka daya minhetguda? [‘What do you come here for?’]
TELLER 3: Woningenda pekka batima! [‘I’ll spear you, you devil!’]
TELLER 4: Wanin nyana? [‘Where are you from?’]
ALL: [together] Yanagai! Yanagai!
TELLER 2’s song is cut off. Pause.
TELLER 1: No good.
TELLER 2: Almost gone.
TELLER 1: Taken.
TELLER 4: Gone!
TELLER 3: This beautiful place—
TELLER 2: Gone.
TELLER 1: Not there anymore.
ALL: [together, quietly] Only here.
They close their eyes.
TELLER 1: We are here.
ALL: [together] We are here.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
SCENE TWO: A RIVER IS MADE
Darkness. Distant thunder.
We hear a woman sobbing. It is MUNARRA. She eventually appears in a dim and barren landscape. Covered in white ochre, her face streaked with tears, she drags a large, heavy digging stick behind her which makes a piercing and snake-like trail. At its completion MUNARRA bows her head and cries a river.
Thunder and the sound of rain is heard. Heavy and then light. Sounds of sobbing and mourning seep out of the landscape. The rain stops and the trickle of a river is heard. Faint images of water, river and reflected light surround the space. The river is made.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
SCENE THREE: GONE FISHIN’
Uncle’s camp on the edge of the Murray River [Dhungala].
UNCLE is wearing three jumpers, trousers and a hat. The Yorta Yorta word ‘maniga’ [to fish] is projected in neon in the sky. He is quietly fishing and at one with the land. LYALL enters. He hesitates and finally approaches UNCLE.
LYALL: Uncle?
Silence.
You probably don’t know me.
Silence.
I’ve been living in the city. [Pause.] Uncle?
Silence.
They told me at the mish where to find you. [Pause.] Uncle, I’ve been—
UNCLE: Go away! I don’t want to talk. I’m tired of talking. Talking all the time. I’m living here in this old whatsoname till I find my young time again. My whatsoname?… Dreaming! A man’s come here for some peace and quiet. Nup, no good. Talking. Never done anyone any good. Never di
d me any bloody good. Don’t you fullas know how to be quiet? Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk. Bloody talking all the time…
UNCLE fishes in silence.
LYALL: [waiting uncomfortably] Uncle, I was just…
UNCLE: You still here?!
Silence.
LYALL: I’m Lyall. Lyall Jackson.
Silence.
My grandfather was Garfield Jackson.
Silence.
Did you know Garfield?
Silence.
They told me at the mish where to find you.
Silence.
My mum and dad are Lance and Prissy.
Silence.
My grandmother was a Campbell.
Silence.
You know that mob?
UNCLE: Yep.
LYALL: They’re from Cummeragunja.
Silence.
LYALL approaches.
Uncle, I’m working on that land claim with those fullas in the city.
UNCLE fishes in silence. LYALL waits uncomfortably.
These fullas, they—
UNCLE: Yeah, I heard ya! [Pause.] They white?
LYALL: They’re gonna help us get our land back.
UNCLE: This is our land. This is my tree, that’s my river and there’s a one-hundred-year-old Murray cod down there that’s got my name on him. I don’t need no whitefullas helping me out. I’ve been helped enough!
Silence.
LYALL goes to leave.
LYALL: Auntie Betty asked me to give these to you.
He puts a blanket and a plastic Coles bag of food next to UNCLE.
UNCLE: I don’t want no supermarket food.
LYALL: I’ll come around tomorrow, ay? I’m staying at the mish.
UNCLE: I won’t be here. I’m going to the Bend. Fishin’.
LYALL: Okay, Uncle.
UNCLE: Sshhhh! [He points to the fish.] You’re scaring the fish!
LYALL: Okay. It’s been good talking to ya.
UNCLE: Sshhhh!
LYALL exits. UNCLE fishes.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
SCENE FOUR: MUNARRA HAS LANDED
Darkness. Thunder.
MUNARRA enters, walking by the river. She is homesick.
MUNARRA: [looking around] Where the hell am I? [More looking] Where the bloody hell am I? [Yelling up at the sky] Why did you throw me down?! After all I’ve done for you!
Thunder.
She picks up her digging stick and swipes at the sky.
[Yelling to the sky] Ahhhhhhhhhhh! Why did you chuck me out?!
More thunder.
Get down here! Come on! I’m your wife! Come on! Ahhhhhhhh!
Thunder.
Two DINGOES drop from the sky.
Oh, great! And who are you?
DINGO 1: We’s your faithful companions.
DINGO 2: We’s your protectors.
MUNARRA: [yelling to the sky] Why me?!
DINGO 1: Ay! Biami, he’s our creator.
DINGO 2: You wanna show him respect, girl!
MUNARRA: Yeah? Well, why did he chuck me out then? I’m his wife!
DINGO 2: It was with great sadness he cast you out.
DINGO 1: You’ve been chosen, ay?
MUNARRA: What for?
DINGO 1: A great honour has been bestowed upon you.
MUNARRA: Yeah, right.
DINGO 2: Out of all his wives, Biami chose you.
MUNARRA: He threw me out!
DINGO 1: Biami created you out of the fire, determination and spirit of one hundred generations of Yorta Yorta souls.
DINGO 2: Baparra-banarrak. [‘Long ago.’]
DINGO 1: He saw your warrior instinct even when you were a girl.
DINGO 2: Even as a child, you roared!
DINGO 1: You’re a representative.
DINGO 2: He chose you. You’re thunder!
DINGO 1: You roll across the earth and you roar!
The DINGOES howl.
MUNARRA: What stinks around here?
DINGO 2: He’s thrown you back onto the land so that you can save it.
MUNARRA: What is that smell?
DINGO 2: [proudly] This is our land.
MUNARRA: I’ve hurt my shoulder.
DINGO 2: Yorta Yorta land.
MUNARRA: Ooh. My neck!
DINGO 1: Our land.
MUNARRA: I sprained it!
DINGOES: Your land.
DINGO 2: Don’t you remember?
MUNARRA: [looking quickly] Nup. Not here! It stinks!
DINGO 2: They’ve ruined it.
MUNARRA: Who?!
DINGO 1: That mob with no spirit.
DINGOES: Grrrrrrrrr!
MUNARRA: You talking in riddles! I’m getting out of here!
MUNARRA attempts to make a hasty exit. The DINGOES catch her.
DINGO 1: Munarra! Gathagana-ma! [‘Don’t!’]
DINGO 2: You’re our only hope!
DINGO 1: Munarra! Grrrrrrr!
MUNARRA: Let go of me! I don’t even know you.
DINGO 1: We’s your faithful companions.
DINGO 2: We’ve been sent to protect you.
MUNARRA: Protect me? From what?
DINGO 1: Munarra, look around you.
MUNARRA: I’ve never been here before in my life!
DINGO 2: Look what they’ve done.
DINGO 1: The trees, the sandhills. This used to be a lake.
MUNARRA: I’m going back!
She threatens to leave again but the DINGOES catch her and force her to look.
DINGO 1: No!
DINGO 2: You have to save this place!
DINGO 1: Munarra, look.
DINGO 2: Nhawul! [‘Look!’]
They point to the apparition of EDWARD CURR on the river. The DINGOES prepare to re-enact the story for MUNARRA.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
SCENE FIVE: THE CURSE
The re-enactment of CURR’s arrival.
CURR arrives in a canoe. TOMMY poles the canoe. MUNARRA watches.
DINGO 2: [motioning to CURR on the river] Sir Edward Curr. He brought the curse. The curse of the sheep and the gun, with Tommy from the next door mob as his guide. He brought that whitefulla down in his boat, and sent her—
CURR: —merrily along with his rowing pole.
DINGO 2: Down our river.
CURR: Stately and hushed, old Tongala.
DINGO 2: Our beautiful river—
CURR: —flowed on through her trackless woods.
DINGO 2: Tommy is rowing Curr to our death! [Shouting to TOMMY] Tommy! You betrayed us! Stop! Go back!
CURR: The country on the right bank, he informs me, belong to the Moitheriban.
TOMMY: [in unison with CURR] Moitheriban.
CURR: And that on the left to his own tribe, the Wangatpan.
TOMMY: [in unison with CURR] Wangatpan.
CURR: The Yorta Yorta are a numerous tribe who have plenty of fish!
DINGO 2: And thousands of spears! Go away! You’re not welcome here! Yanagai! Yanagai!
CURR: On rounding a point, a fishing party engaged at their work has come into view. Many of these people seemed surprised and displeased to find a pale-faced stranger invading their vastness.
DINGO 2: [brandishing her digging stick] Yanagai! Yanagai!
CURR: The party was rather a defenceless one, consisting principally of women, old men, and children, the young men being out hunting, so that on seeing us, a general stampede took place for the shore.
DINGO 2: We ran for fear of our lives. ‘White men! White men coming our way! White men who kill!’ All around me the people are screaming and yelling. Water splashing. Bodies dripping. We ran behind the trees and bushes, trembling. [Pause.] And then our grandfather, ‘Ngapa’, charges forward to make war!
An OLD MAN enters, furious and shaking his spear.
OLD MAN: Yanagai! Yanagai!
DINGO 2: He’s as wild as hell! ‘Ngapa! No! Come back!’ Yakarrumdja!
OLD MAN: Yanagai! Yanagai!
CURR:
[to TOMMY] Speak to him! Speak to him! Tell him I mean him no harm.
TOMMY: Ghanu! Molwa gurtji nguni gathagana-ma! [‘Sit! Whiteman friend war don’t!’]
OLD MAN: [shaking his spear, threatening and yelling at CURR] Woningenda dhanu minhe? Ngina gaka daya minhetguda? [‘You want what? You come here what for?’] Ngina beka muma molwa! Nyini Yorta Yorta wala maniga naika nyanuan. [‘You demon from grave! My mob water fish duck.’] Nga dhupan nyunu wongingenda! Woningenda pekka! [‘I spit hate you! You ghost!’] Woningenda pekka batima! [‘Devil to spear!’]
MUNARRA: [recognising the OLD MAN] Ngapa!
DINGO 2: Yakarrumdja!
CURR: What does he say?!
TOMMY: He says, ‘What you want? Why you here?’ He says you demon from grave. The water, fish ducks belong his mob. He spits and hates you. You’re pekka and he will spear you.
OLD MAN: [charging with his spear] Yanagai! Yanagai!
CURR: [raising his gun] Tell him to put down his weapon!
DINGO 2: We’ve heard what the whitefullas’ guns can do. Bitja!
The words ‘bitja’ and ‘fire’ are projected around the space.
Ngapa! Yakarramdja!
OLD MAN: Yanagai! Yanagai!
CURR: Tell him!
DINGO 2: And then— [Pause.] The whole world stops. Everything stands still. Even the wind closes its mouth.
Pause. MUNARRA steps forward, finally remembering and realising her purpose on the land. She slowly moves herself between the OLD MAN and CURR’s gun.
And then, the smallest and bravest girl walks out from behind the trees. We’ve heard that whitemen don’t war with children. He wouldn’t shoot a child, would he?
TOMMY: Gathagana-ma! [‘Don’t!’]
CURR: Curious to test the temper of the people, I whispered to Tommy to be silent, that I should not hurt her and prepared my gun for fire.
Pause.
DINGO 2: He wouldn’t shoot a child, would he?
Silence.
MUNARRA regards CURR for a long time. The memories coming back.
MUNARRA: I remember you!
She takes her grandfather by the hand. They turn their backs on CURR and she leads him safely back into the bush.
[Gently whispering to the OLD MAN] Dhoma Nyini Ngapa. Gokwil! Dhoma Nyini Ngapa.
The threat, now passed, TOMMY and CURR are greatly relieved.
TOMMY: Big one, stupid old man!
CURR: What name belong to young girl?
TOMMY: Andyarning.
They continue to sail down the river. CURR’s speech trails off into the distance as MUNARRA and the DINGOES speak.