bilateral kellerberrin

Greg was in town to do some business yesterday arvo, and popped by to say hello. As luck would have it, I had just stuck up in the window the blog entry for the visit we made to Greg at North Baandee. He stood there reading it for a bit, while I chatted to Pat. I didn’t want to bother him while he read it, as I wanted his frank feedback.

He gave it…

Greg didn’t like a few things that I wrote. Particularly, I had written that he “hates the birds”. He also was unsure about me mentioning his religion. What if he told me he was in the Taliban or something? he asked me. Well, I’d probably just have written that instead, I replied flippantly. He was not too happy, but he said hooroo and went on his way.

Half an hour later, Greg called me on the phone. He wanted me to change those two things. He didn’t like the idea that people would read that he “hated” the birds. I explained that I thought people would understand that it was because of the destruction they do. But he really disliked the word “hate.” He asked me to change it, to say instead that he finds them very “frustrating”.

Obviously, the galahs and some other parrots have become pests. They strip the trees of foliage when they breed to plague proportions. It would be a lot easier to get plants established if it weren’t for the birds. In some places in NSW where they have the same problem, teams are sent out to cull them. But he doesn’t hate them. He likes looking at them, they’re nice animals, it’s just what they do to his trees that he doesn’t like.

Also, he wanted me to delete any reference to his religion. Religion is a private thing, Greg said, and if people get to know him, they can find that out about him. But he doesn’t want it just publicised like that.

I was a little stunned, I must admit. I didn’t really think that these things I’d written about Greg were so bad. But he said he’d been quoted out of context, and that worried him. I assured him that it wasn’t my intention to take his opinions about the birds out of context. I had really enjoyed our trip out to see him, and I respect what he’s trying to do out there. Also, I explained that Cristina’s project in Kellerberrin has been to ask everyone she meets about their religion. Most folks just say it straight out, and don’t mind who knows. So I hadn’t expected that it would be an issue with him either.

However, I didn’t want him to feel like he had been misrepresented. I value our friendship more than I value a particular combinations of words I had haphazardly thrown together that day. I agreed to change the text: replacing the line about the birds with how they were frustrating, and deleting the reference to what religion he belonged to altogether.

* * * * *

A similar issue came up later on, when I went down the pub with Pauline to try my luck at “Jag the Joker” once more. Pip and Dawn were there, with some friends of theirs. (I’m really sorry, but I can’t remember their names! Dawn, as an avid blog-reader, perhaps you can fill in the gaps in my narrative here? They were the parents of Jeff, who works at the abbatoir. And the kids?)…

Dawn was concerned about what I’d written last Saturday about Zed, when I recounted the story about how Zed had won the Joker jackpot. Zed had told me that she gave some of the money to her daughter, who “had nothing.” Dawn thought that Zed and her daughter might object to that. The daughter, particularly, might not like to be characterised as “poor”.

I can see the potential here for me getting into trouble. When I record things that people say in a one-on-one conversation, and play them back in a wider forum (ie this blog), sometimes those phrases amplify and seem alarmingly blunt. Of course, I don’t know Zed’s daughter, I’ve never met her. I’m sure if she’s half as cool as Zed, I would like her. For me, having no money is certainly nothing to be ashamed of (I myself have lived on the dole for the last five years!) and Zed was probably not meaning that her daughter really had “nothing” (ie living on the streets or whatever) but probably that she was on a fixed wage, and would appreciate the windfall.

But this is all speculation. The point is, that some people look at things that are written about them with a sense of humour, or perspective, and recognise that whatever I write is just one person’s account. (Of course, the blog format contains within itself a “right of reply” which can be activated simply by filling in the form below). Others, for reasons I cannot hope to know, might take what is written about them very seriously, and object to slight misrepresentations. For some, the words I put out there will have a real impact on their self-image.

It’s very difficult for me to negotiate this dilemma. Should I, as I have done with Greg, alter the writing to “erase” errors? To tell the truth, I would prefer to leave the original text, and simply add more to clarify and correct things that someone doesn’t agree with. In this way, the record of negotiations is transparent and “on the record” – history is not rewritten secretly.

I have tried to be as honest as I can when people ask me what I’ve been doing with my time in Keller. I tell them straight out that I have been writing, each day, in an online journal, about what people say and the things I see. I thought that this might affect the way that people interact with me, making them more careful and guarded about what they disclose. But in general, this doesn’t happen. People here are trusting and open. I hope that my writing does not breach these “bilateral confidences” that we have established.

* * * * *

Once again, my number did not come up in Jag the Joker, nor did I win the hundred dollar netball raffle that was drawn last night. I did, however, cement my place at the bar, alongside Michael the Italian, Tom the constantly-laughing-guy from Tammin, and his sardonic bespectacled friend who works driving trucks for the grain handling company.

Michael has always been very friendly, from the first time I met him in the pub three weeks ago. He said he had received a kellerberrin dot com coaster in the post. I told him about the blog, and that he was probably already in it. He said “I better bloody be, I’ve spent enough time talking to you!” Michael is often the ringleader who instigates the passing around of the jug to raise money to pay the “skimpy” to take her top off. He has initiative.

All the blokes asked where Cristina was. I explained that she was in Perth getting some photos printed up. Mick, the cortina-racer / darts-player / women’s-hockey-coach, was particularly worried that he’d offended Cristina the previous Friday. As part of my new regime of discretion, I can’t go into details. I reassured him that Cristina was not at all worried, and that he shouldn’t worry either. Once again, he invited us to go and check out his canvas business, and have a coffee with him.

Mick also introduced me to Jackson, his 18 year old flatmate, who works on a farm north of Keller. The farm is run by someone Tiller, the brother of Neville from Kellerberrin Tyre Service. Jackson reckoned that it shouldn’t be a problem to just drive up to the Tiller farm (after the s-bend near the airstrip) and go check out the seeding process. I hope I get time…

The friend of Jeff, from the abbatoir, who I had met last week, was there again. I never seem to catch his name, but he is very friendly and laid-back. He said that there had been a “stop work” at the abs, on account of the huge storms in Perth. Apparently they couldn’t process all the stuff coming in at the Perth depot/port, so they had to halt the process for a few days. This was great, as he still got a full week’s wages. I asked what he was doing with his time. Winning money on the horses, he said. He had won over a grand, from an investment of about $300. You have to be prepared to outlay cash, in order to win it back, he said.

I was enjoying hangin at the bar with the boys, but by about a quarter to ten I had drunk as much beer as my constitution could handle, so I said my goodbyes. Brendan the jolly publican was setting up a karaoke machine, so I figured my timing was about right…

* * * * *

I should mention that on Friday I also had a 1.30pm appointment at the Shearing Shack. I thought my hair was getting a bit shaggy. Usually I don’t visit hairdressers – normally I would just get Jane, or another friend to do it, or I’d cut it myself. It’s a pretty scruffy “look” I go for, which probably doesn’t require the expertise of a qualified hair cutter. However, I figured, in the interests of channelling art funding cash back into Keller, I would patronise Pippa, our local expert.

To be honest, I also thought that the hair salon was the place to get some goss. I was up-front to Pippa about this when I booked the appointment.

The goss was pleasant, if fairly tame. Pippa has lived in the area all her life. The farthest afield she has ventured for work is Northam. However, she loves travelling, and has made a few trips to Sydney. She really enjoys the excitement of the big city, but also the fact that you can find places to relax and rest not far from the bustle. Also, she’s a confirmed TV addict, and gets a buzz from visiting places that she’s seen on the tube. For instance, last time she visited Sydney, she went to the place where they filmed “The Block” – and next time, she’d be into going to “Pink Salt” (?) the location for the show “My Restaurant Rules.”

Speaking of coloured salt… the linoleum floor of the Shearing Shack has smudges of bright orange all over it, especially around the chairs where the hairdresser walks. I asked Pippa if this was to do with the bleach she used to make people’s hair blond. No, she said, it’s the rising salinity which has some kind of chemical reaction with the lino. The lady in the chair next to me said that usually, when you lay a floor in Keller, you would put down thick builder’s plastic to seal the surface and stop the salt rising. In the Shearing Shack, she guessed, the lino had been put down some time ago, and they hadn’t thought to do that back then.

Rising salinity seems to be brought about when the water table rises. If I’m not wrong, the table rises for the following reasons:

Originally, there are lots of trees, and their roots dig deep into the soil, drawing water from the water table. This keeps the table far beneath the surface of the soil. However, when you take all the trees away, the water table is not being “tapped” and will rise. The water down there is naturally saline anyway (always has been) but when it rises to the surface, the arable topsoil is rendered too salty to grow anything.

Also, it has side effects like the orange lino. There is a “townsite salinity meter” located outside the train station in Kellerberrin. I’m not really sure what measures can be taken to counteract rising salinity, besides planting a shitload of trees.