Lena Obergfell goes to town: on the back of a piggin ute!

Post-new-year adventure to Kandos. Train to Lithgow, cementamobile to Kandos: city, backyard bloom watch, penrith, river, blue mountains, teenagers in hoodies, low clouds. Then director Wisser shuttles us to Kandos, via Cullen Bullen, short pee break, Wissers words about the rest stop 'Australians are really good at bleak', mining, ripped open land, electricity plants and the crazyness of burning coal in this sunny country, bush and more bush, and then finally the lime line crossing the road announcing Kandos. First impressions, the turn off, cement works remnants wide streets, everything in walking distance but you drive; the town is much bigger than I can see - I had to stop myself, slow down, get used to the pace, the heat. Meeting new people with new agendas, new places, admiring, perving like a tourist, tasting, smelling this town. Amazing residency -  Ann's place: garden, oh the carpets, the furniture, the perfect kitchen, every little preciously sourced sometimes savaged found thing that has its perfect use! I can relate - some people say I collect rubbish. HIghlight of the first morning: King Parrot pooed on my head on the fist production day - everything will be fine, fall into place, make sense out of the short time i have here in Kandos.

 

First day shooting video: Off on the bike with cameras, tripod and yellow raincoat. I am on an adventure to capture this experience. At the pool, Shane, the lifeguard who will be an electrician soon, the builders onsite that I will soon meet again, the railway tracks inducing a sudden fear of snakes in me, the watch dog who would lick intruders to death, it's owner sitting in the shade on the verandah with the half blind chihuaha in the basket next to him. No one seems to be concerened like in Sydney where safety is measured by possible litigation suits.

 

Then the overpowering urge for a ute, a pighunting vehicle: flat tray, dog cage, spotlights, beaten up ute. hard task, very unfamiliar environment, the rough corner pub to meet local piggers, uncomfortable at first, making connections with strangers, being patient, shutting my mouth, new stories, beers, a gift in form of a stubby holder, surprising talks about dada and multiculturalism, mining equipment, gps devices to track hunting dogs. the hope not to offend anyone, not to be offended, explain the idiosynchratic stuff i want to do. appointment with ute secured.

[caption id="attachment_1118" align="aligncenter" width="545"] Morning Cats[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1115" align="aligncenter" width="545"] Piggin Ute. Credit: Dan Kojta[/caption]

the next morning a 5 am disappointment, the spoken for ute did not show. but Dan did show, making me feel less let down. we are watching the local cats doing their morning chilling on the main street, locals dropping by the newsagency. then a yellow ute shows up, just what i wished for. having to gather all my courage i walk up and ask. feeling like i stunned the driver into submission by asking to drive me up and down the main street. blunt german. i was stunned back by the question "yeah sure, no problem, how slow to you want me to go?"

- Lena Obergfell