Mittagundi Outdoor Ed. Center

Some places. Special places. Far away from any place I know. Red mailbox on the left side of sickness inducing windy roads. On the tail end of the flu, up in the mountains. On a bus, I slept through the trees, through the conversations with teachers and 30 chatty, intimidating 15 year olds behind me. Six hours later and I didn't think I was ready to be there. Out of my comfort zone. Again. It took longer than "usual" to feel like I fit in. Group talks revolving around four core values: respect, responsibility, fairness, and safety. The food came out and we all ate and ate. in a little log cabin called Ian's hut. Mt. Wills. Days for practicing our skiing. In the snow. Nervous, self-conscious. Going off into the snow gums, where I could fall over on my own. Brave kids. Starting conversations with me. It was much easier after that. Farm days. Fence clearing. Making bread, pizza lunches, and more and more desserts. Kids got sick. Got the flu. Up in the mountains, on our skiing adventure. The 'popular' boys. Segregated groups. Crude jokes and obscene gestures. Snow-women built in the snow. Mid week chats and the kids didn't mind. Wouldn't stand up the the popular view that making fun of others was okay. Disheartening moods. Frustrated leaders Back to the farm feeling utterly exhausted. It took time. But by the end I was in. "Cool enough" for them. I'm not sure that's even what I wanted, but it was a start to meaningful converstations. That group left and hours later another came in. Split into two. Immediately different. I was myself. 100% in my skin. Asking questions. Being silly. Open. Outgoing. I flip-flopped groups. Got attached to the 2nd group after two farm days. Compacting soil around a pig pen pole. Chase games and 'okay, the one who's not building mondo biceps has to tell the other's a story. and make sure the pole stays straight!' Ultimate frisbee. Elbow tag. Funny voices. Cross-dressing parties. 'Aquaman' in a bright red and blue wetsuit that really never should have gone on my body. The boys were hilarious, the girls too. And Lucy, one of the leaders, had Dennis and Declan cut her hair into the most hideous of mullets. My hero. Thank you's at dinner. Everyone was so grateful. So giving. Then off to the snow again. A last minute decision. After my last ski trip, I was so tired, didn't think I'd want to go. But I passed up less demanding days on the farm. To spend more time with, built more connections with those 14 kids who were already so significantly under my skin. Bigger slopes, warmer weather. A teacher from their school joining our group. New personality, a skiing expert. Reminded me in too many ways of a person I am quite happy not to remember. Tiredness seeped in. Colds got caught. Laying low, letting my emotional-blah day go its own way. Ski jumps. Open faced sandwiches. With peanut butter instead of cheese. Antechinuses back at the hut. Trying to sneakily eat our scraps of food. Stretching circles in the morning. After singing wake up calls. The withdrawn kid. I tried so hard, not hard enough. To talk to him. Help him open up. Beacuse it was in there, I'd already seen glimmers of it. But he kept slinking away. Kept keeping himself hid. Beautiful personalities. Kids I'd keep as friends. Long walks back to the troupies. Past melted snow, our skis in suitcases. Ticklish co-volunteers and oh those trees. The sun shining through. That shimmering green. My #1 favorite thing in this country. One last afternoon on the farm. An evening of chatting. Reflection. Meaning. What we have learned. The answers were so varied. For me, that teenagers weren't so scary. "Actually, you guys are pretty freakin' cool." Next, its the end of the world, you're taking your friends and family, what three other things, what three other values would you bring? One after the other the kids said trust, honesty, family. I took playfulness, a goofy, non-hurtful sense of humor. the ability to love myself, take care of myself - cause that took a long time to learn and I don't want to lose it. And hugs. Cuddles that make you feel safe, loved, connected. We journeyed five years in the future. Where we'd be sitting. What kind of chair. What kind of setting. Ssome kids were at uni, another was holding a baby. I was in my dead grandma's rocking chair. reupholstered, repaired. Rocking. with the smell of pine trees in the air. it was sunny, friends were there. Cooking, baking, flour in their hair. Kitchen dancing. I was 30. Through grad school. After biking BC or the west coast of America. Home. After all this time I was home. In my first few days at Mittagundi, my mind wasn't there. It was in Western Australia, up in the Kimberley. But it didn't take long before I was Right There. Looking up at such a starry sky as I brushed my teeth, peed by a tree in the middle of the night. Even if there are many things about the style of operation, hierarchy of organization that I wouldn't want to take from Mittagundi to my own outdoor/environmental education place, I'd take that magnificent sense of space. That feeling of little routines that become ingrained. That you miss when you're back in Melbourne, in a new suburb, in a home with electricity, in a double bed. Porridge every morning, two showers in 18+ days, three liters of water, supposedly, every day. Running, sprinting, in front of the departing bus. Waving crazily to those innocent kids. Jumping in the FREEZING river. Scrapes to the knee. Lucy, behind me shouting, "Hurry, get out! Get out!!" Sun on my bare skin. Coming through those eucalyptus trees. Space between buildings. Taking a poo on a composting loo with a view. Wood chopping, kindling. Open fires and wood burning stoves. Cooking delirium. Cause really, whose idea was it to make veggie burgers for that many people? Sing-song dinner presentations with Declan. "Oops, I did it again, sliced veggies all day. Stood in front of the stove. Oh baby baby. Oops, I think that its wedges. And veggie burgers. Ohh baby baby. Snot block for dessert! Flip me baby one more time!" The joking with the kids. Bill, the strongest of the group, convincing me he could spin me. Hold my wrists, twirl, let my feet wave behind me. I was wary, but I gave in, let him try it. Within a second I was in the dirt, on my back. All I saw was blue sky, the clouds passing above me. Deep belly, aching laughter. There is infinite value in that. Chasing chickens and dogs from the kitchen. I must of gained at least five pounds. "Thirds?" "Nooo, no way. oh, okay." The full Mittagundi experience. Ryan's bright green, skin tight ski pants. The value of not yelling at kids. Respect and letting them make mistakes. Not everyone thought this way. Hundreds of little things in 2.5 weeks. In a place built for learning.