The Australian SpiritA Story by Mollie EmeryRecently in October 2017 I traveled to Papua New Guinea to hike the Kokoda trail. This is my memory of the Kokoda Trail and what it meant to me. Enjoy :)The Australian Spirit. A spirit that lives in every
Australian past and present, dormant until the time to muster courage is
required. That spirit use to run through this country as if it were an
epidemic, perhaps something waterborne, that called upon neighbour to help
neighbour, Australian to help fellow Australian. Living in this modern society
the spirit no longer runs as true, being an adolescent I can see the ways in
which Australia has taken a turn from that once thick, inherent nature, the
Australian spirit waiting to be rekindled. Most would say that
the days where the Spirit was most embraced was the time of the Australian
Digger, like those men who fought on the Kokoda trail. Those men were fighting
to protect the Australian spirit and all that it stood for; courage, endurance,
mateship and sacrifice. With the battle of the Kokoda Trail so important to
Australia’s history, it was my mission to go back to where Australian heroes
fought, died and conquered, to protect and preserve what it is to be
Australian. The Kokoda trail for me, was an experience that I cannot
describe in a statement like “it was amazing!” because simply the ability to
walk is amazing, but it can be shared through explanation of experience; whether
it be crying because a village had walked 2 hours in the dark to sing me happy
birthday, or playing football with local villagers, finding a boy on the side
of the road holding a puppy while his parents work in the banana plantation
below, the pride seen in those who sing the Papua New Guinea national anthem,
an old woman in a village who gave me a sun flower so I could remember how my
spirit grew like a flower in the summer or whether it be the bond I made with
the people, the trail, the bird calls and the smell of Papua New Guinea which
not even my washing machine can remove. Standing at the memorial of Isurava on the 8th
day of the trek in the late evening, Papua New Guinea does what it is known
for; drop temperature and let the mist start rolling in. As I stand on the
steps that lead to a vision of valleys and mountains, which have been set
alight with colours of the sunset, many of us trekkers feel as though we are
being watched. Not watched in a startling sense, but as if we were being
watched over by something much bigger than ourselves, a history of a nation and
its spirit sleeping in the bed of the earth beneath our feet ready to be
uncovered by young Australians like ourselves. I remember the mist slowly consuming us and an unusual sense
of pride and grief running through me. It almost felt as if the mist was the
breath of those diggers from 75 years ago, the Australian spirit left behind to
bury its way into our souls, to fill our lungs and become our very bones. In the morning we wake to a magnificent sunrise during the
dawn service. As the beugel plays on a modern Bluetooth speaker, no emotion is
left untouched. Within that moment I had discovered what it is to be
Australian, the last post an ancient hymn that had been calling to me through
the universe, ready to find me at that moment. To be Australian is to do your best. To help as many as you
can. To remember what had been sacrificed so we can live with dignity. To be
Australian is realise that life is a privilege not a right. To recognise that
the earth does not belong to us, but we belong to earth. Even before my journey on the Kokoda trail had begun, before
I ran through the KOKODA trail arches, I realise now that I had experienced the
Australian spirit within all the support I gained from friends, family, mentors
and Gosford RSL club. To believe in others, in this life itself, is what being Australian
encapsulates. I have heard many times that “there is no mate like an
Australian mate” and I think this best sums up my experience on the Kokoda
trail. In the end it is not about all the tears, all the mud or the sweat, it’s
about who was there with you and who stands with you to help you through it.
Walking in the digger’s footsteps, up those broken back mountains it feels as
though they pushed us up there, with toothy grins and freckled faces, those Australian
diggers patted us on the back with big raindrops that pushed us harder and
applauded us at the end with greetings from villagers and their families. I will never forget what those men did for us and I will
always remember the rivers being veins that flow, the mountains being heads
that rest in peace, for peace. Lest We Forget their epitaph of measure, a
legacy that is instilled in us all; The Australian Spirit. © 2017 Mollie EmeryAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on October 31, 2017 Last Updated on October 31, 2017 Tags: travel; Kokoda trail; adventure; AuthorMollie EmeryCentral Coast, NSW, AustraliaAboutI am an Earthling that believes writing and reading is a paper plane, the ink the jet fuel that can take you wherever you want to go. more..Writing
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