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Published online by Cambridge University Press: 22 July 2015
Whenever I revisit an Aboriginal community where I am known (and there are several), despite the awkwardness of language and culture difference, I find a sense of relief. Here, while I readjust to Aboriginal English, Kriol or another language, I don’t have to make conversation to fill up the silences. Silence is allowed.
I look back and realise I have come to this discovery instinctively and did not always feel at ease with silence. When in 1967 I camped by a billabong on a cattle station and a very shy 16 year old (now my ‘younger sister’) was sent to keep me company at night, I found it an imposition and awkward. I didn’t know what to talk about and she didn’t talk to me much. I would have been less lonely by myself! A teacher recently in the same area spoke of a woman who would call on him after school, and sit and have a cup of tea while he needed to get work done. Gradually he began to do his work while she sat, and realised in time that this was quite acceptable in her culture that he do so.
It is very seldom in our society that we are happy with silence in company with others. (Older married couples often don’t talk as much to each other; while in some cases this indicates their being at ease with one another, it is not always so!). Not only do we avoid silences (especially so for women! – some men are more tactiurn), but we expect very prompt responses to questions and comments. I like a little longer to respond than many others; consequently in discussions someone else usually gets in first. But occasionally I find someone slower to respond than I find comfortable. If I get myself to wait just that little bit longer for a response, it is well worth it.