The Power of Place Names | Embedding Bama Local Languages into the Australian Landscape
Tags: First Nations, Culture, Aboriginal, Australia, Language

In my first few weeks of work with the project, I began by reviewing the First Nations place names that had already been published. During this period, I came across the story of a Djabugay ancestral being, Damarri. Damarri and his brother Guyala are ancestral beings literally in the landscape. Their stories mark Djabugay Country. In one, I read that Damarri’s leg was bitten off by a crocodile, and he fell down, into the landscape, and became the mountain range. During those early days, I would scour through the published literature and enter different place names of the Damarri Storywater, without truly considering the fact that I was experiencing an ancestral being. I remember being excited by the story and enjoying the progress we were making on our project, but I hadn’t understood the depth of what it meant to meet this ancient tale. One night, I had a dream that I was walking in the bush, along a river bank and a crocodile bit my leg off! I woke up deeply affected by this dream: the story found its way into me in a place it couldn’t while I was awake with my “rational” mind. From that point on, I approached the Damarri Storywater in a new way. I had experienced it in my own dream state and on what felt like a physical level to me. The way I engaged with Damarri from that moment on was very different: I began to feel the power of that place name. I began to understand that we were not merely putting down names that happened to have a story nested inside of them. These names were part of the lore of the land that I was on.

I remember being excited by the story, but I hadn’t understood the depth of what it meant to meet this ancient tale.

Gunggandji elder Edgar Harris and his nephew Djungan Neal were eager to record significant Gunggandji place names as part of the project; however, they faced a serious barrier. Although they knew their sacred places in their language, they remembered them in a unique way — they knew them through their songlines. Edgar and Djungan live in Yarrabah Aboriginal Shire Council. Yarrabah is a former Aboriginal mission settlement that is now home to a diversity of First Nations peoples. In the mission days, Bama peoples were punished for practicing their language and culture. To recall the Gunggandji place names, they had to sing them into being. Edgar couldn’t remember the name of the place on command; he needed to sing the songlines to find the name of the place in his memory. To find the Gunggandji place names, we recorded Edgar, Djungan, and their nephews singing songlines with a map in front of them. While the group was singing, Edgar would point out the place on the map.

Marilyn Wallace working with the author, putting down Nyungkal Bubu (Country) place names. Photo: Citt Williams, 2017

Marilyn Wallace is a Nyungkal elder who is determined to have her people’s names recognized and respected by waybala (white persons) and the state. She has been actively involved in this project since the beginning, as she is the co-founder of Bana Yarralji Bubu Bayan Kabanji. Marilyn lives on her “inheritance,” her Bubu (Country), where the edges of the open woodlands and rainforest meet. During the project, I camped with Marilyn on her homelands in the wungara (powdery sun) and jarramali (dry lightning) seasons while we recorded her Nyungkal place names. On her homelands, Marilyn took me to some of the places that she wanted to register. Marilyn explained that we have to change the names “to the Bama names because it is ownership of the Bubu (Country). Our connection to the rivers, the wawubaja (rivers), to the yiri (waterfalls) and our Bama has always been connected to our Bubu and those areas are important.” She explained to me that some of the current names were racist and hurt her. The existing names were not only removed from their Bama meanings but had downright negative connotations in the Bama language and evoked the memory of Cook’s invasion. She explained that in her elders’ time, they didn’t speak English; the “old people” didn’t know what the English names meant. Today, however, her people do know these meanings, and she wants to see Nyungkal names in Nyungkal places. For Marilyn, she wants these names changed in respect of her people’s cultural heritage and inheritance. In her words, “We feel that it is our identity, our culture, our heritage; it was given by the old people and we need to recognize and respect that.”

It is our identity, our culture, our heritage; it was given by the old people and we need to recognize and respect that.

In the kaba (wet season), I said goodbye to my new friends and my role on this project. I left them with 400 names recorded and a handful that were about to be registered with the state. Since I have left, the seed we planted has taken root. Although my time on Bama lands has ended, I find myself full of wonder as I hear stories about what our seed is blooming into.