Principal Consultant Tanya Hunter visits the beautiful Bullawah Trail.
When I travel, I always look forward to getting to know my surroundings by going for a run. It’s not a fast run, and I often stop to take photos that I share with family and friends, both here and overseas. Recently I was in in Wangaratta to conduct some workplace behaviour training, and I found a map of the Bullawah Cultural Trail in my hotel. I set out as the sun was rising. As I ran along the trail, I felt so fortunate to be able to gain knowledge about the Pangerang (Bangerang) people and reflect on my own connection to the land I now live in.
Although I’ve now lived in Australia for over 25 years and it is the place I call home, in some ways it still seems foreign to me. The trees are different, the birds are different – even the crows sound Australian. The sound of magpies in the morning is one of my favourites, although I miss how summer nights sound. The more I encounter about where I live in Australia, and the more places I visit, the more I appreciate the richness of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander culture and their deep connection to country.
The name of the trail, Bullawah, I learned signifies the two suspension bridges that I ran over to cross the Ovens River as well as the joining of two rivers and the coming together of Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people. Whenever I can, I try to run by water, and the two rivers made me reflect on my own birthplace, where three rivers join (and sometimes flood).
My enjoyment of being out on a lovely (and very fresh!) early spring morning was enhanced by the stories I read along the way: The story of Mundgee, the Murray cod, who swam up and down the Murray and its tributary the Ovens River, and made turning circles that became the waterholes along the river when he grew big and found it hard to turn around.
The story of Mullinmurr – the platypus, born from the mismatched love of Widjul (the black duck) and Nunjarri (The water rat). The story of Yarraboyn, the Red Kangaroo, and Womboyn, the Grey Kangaroo, about the strong and meaningful relationships between neighbouring tribes in sharing and trading resources, and the importance of building relationships and sharing between cultures and communities.
For me, the most meaningful features of the trail were the accounts of local ancestors and elders, and their retellings of the tales that they learned as children. Reading these stories reminded me of the important role that elders play in passing on knowledge, and I recalled the stories my own grandparents shared with me. I ran along reciting two poems my grandfather taught me: one about the Man in the Moon and another about a young mouse who refused to listen to the wise older.
All of the stories, art and memories combined with the glory of a spring sunrise to make me feel lucky to be learning about the ancestors and traditions of the country I now call home. I finished my run, and sent my pictures off, sharing what I’d learned of local culture with my friends and family near and far.