Junuy Garruja Lullaby Reflections
Whales (Garruja) are very relatable. I too have spent a lot of my life migrating up and down the east coast. My mother belongs to the north and my father belongs to the south. Following this thread, I associate garruja with child rearing. Garruja are strong mothers. Their empathy extends to many other species, including humans. They are also incredible singers. When I moved south, I learned Gumbaynggirr through song whilst at St. Mary’s Catholic School in Bowraville. My grandmother was a singer. My name is from a song. It all comes back to this melody that connects everyone and everything together.
Junuy Garruja means ‘Little Whale’ as this is a lullaby meant to be sung to a bubba. I envisioned a mother whale and her calf and what she would say to bring them comfort in a place as big as the ocean.
After coming up with the lyrics, I turned to my Dad’s copy of our language dictionary to draft a translation of the chorus. On my weekly commute back to the street I grew up on, I visited my Uncle and Aunty two doors up and asked him for help. Uncle Mark sat with me going over the lyrics with a critical eye and beat in his voice. He rolled his r’s in practice and talked about linguistics at the dining table whilst we correct and changed what was needed.
I was going to dinner with Dad and left my whole poem with him after he read it. He offered to translate one word in each line and I’d get it back by the end of the night. Dad and I went to the local pub for dinner. We talked and I went back up the road (running from the streetlight to the front steps).
Uncle Mark finished and we yarned in the loungeroom until it got late enough for me to yawn. He showed me an old stereo, my Nan’s old stereo, he wanted to give me for first dibs. I accepted and said I’d pick it up next time. I went back to my Dad, he read my poem with a smile. I petted the dogs and scurried to my car after a hug and goodnight.
The headlights flashed on. A figure drifted on to the side of the road ahead. My soul leaves me body for a split second then I laugh. My Uncle was holding that massive stereo and I pulled up and he put in my backseat. I offered them a lift to grab milk but they were right, and so I took off into the night blasting my current favourite playlist.
Song has been a consistent part of my life since birth. To sing is to breathe. To sing is to tell the world you are alive. To sing is to remember who you are and where you are from. To sing is to respect your Ancestors and your Descendants. Garruja sing. Listen closely to the waves break and you may hear their voices.