21 May 2011 - Koramba Cotton, NSW

It is fortunately, for the purpose of the harvest, a superb day, neither too hot nor too cold, and the clouds that come and go, do not threaten rain. That is reserved for tomorrow, late in the day.

This morning I had to push myself out the door to go for a walk. Reluctance is too easily given in to; fortunately my knowledge that even an hour walking in the sun would lift my languid spirits. Perhaps three and a bit weeks are as much as I can take living this existence, mainly spent waiting for my husband to return from work here in this isolation. I am disappointed that I cannot exhibit more backbone, but there you have it. I am looking forward to being on the road again, experiencing new adventures and new sights, and most of all in the company of my fellow traveller.

As per the last two days, I only went as far as the pump on the river, and noted as I had yesterday, that the water level seems to have risen. This does seem rather strange given that the rain is yet to arrive. Perhaps the irrigation operators have chosen to reduce their bleeding of the river system in anticipation of that rain?

I sat long over lunch under the awning and was visited by a flock of small wrens and double-barred finches, who all but entered the door I had left open and unscreened. I sat there until I had reached the end of my book, and started yet another.      

Today is Saturday, although here just as any other day, for me at least.

Stefan and Diego’s fuel needs were satisfied by the farm reserves at no cost to themselves, but to recompense them for the loss they had suffered; full marks to Koramba. I was correct in my suggestion that the rappers risked being murdered after long and brutal torture; their fate was made very clear to them, should they choose to linger here. Naturally they chose exile. Full marks to the victims and their colleagues! Such should justice be, out in the greater world!

Our fellow Kiwis heading off to work

Our neighbours have embarked upon their fourth day in the field, however according to their rant last night, this could well be the last. Aside from discovering that their pay rate is $2 per hour less than they had been led to believe, and that the camp’s “bathroom” facilities which they were assured they could use, are foul and not fit for decent human beings, they were left yesterday, just the two of them, doing what is essentially a four man job. Certainly Chris’ team have managed well with three instead of the four they started with, however two is impossible.

Their third team member was the Frankie, the Italian with the flatulence problem who had been the module transporter driver, but was demoted, or rather transferred to module making because he was not up to it. However it seems he was not up to module assembly either, because he chose to bed down in the tractor that pulls the module maker about and have a kip more often than not. It all came to a head yesterday when Mike climbed up into the tractor needing action, and a chunk of wood that Frankie had left as some sort of warning system fell and smashed the tractor window, cutting Mike’s hand. The injury was not severe as was evident by the lack of bandaging last night, but the damage to the expensive tractor was. The chiefs were summoned, the truth revealed and Frankie was sacked forthwith. Which left our poor neighbours rather short handed. I am sure there will have been a reshuffling of men (and woman) today to equalise the teams, however this whole affair just served to further frustrate the already disillusioned newcomers. Last night they were talking about leaving forthwith, however a night’s sleep and new beginnings in the light of day may have changed their minds and have them resolved to stay with Plan A: a six week stint here to make Aussie dollars.