Sometimes I can only pinch myself when I think how fortunate I have been in having had such interesting times in my dual careers of music and medicine. One has always relied on or been complimented by the other, the balance differing at different times I my life.
The contrast between the two could not have been more acute than one late Autumn day when on a Saturday I stepped off the stage of the Lyric Theatre in Brisbane after our last performance of La Traviata in the chorus of Opera Queensland to drive back to the Gold Coast to arrive two days later at West Keeling Airport where I was to work for the next two weeks as the sole doctor on call 24/7 for the Malay and European populations who live on the only two inhabited islands, West Keeling and Home Islands of the Cocos group. The Atoll of 25 islands is located roughly halfway between SriLanka and the Australian mainland, in the Indian Ocean, some 3000 kilometers from Perth. The remoteness and isolation are not lost on me: anything could happen here and it would be up to me to sort it.
Flying in to Cocos the vision as the plane circles is of a horseshoe -shaped group of islands and descending lower, of waving coconut palms and beautiful aquamarine seas.
The female ground crew who greet me are fully robed in the head to toe black attire now worn by many of the Cocos Malays and I can’t help wondering how they can tolerate the heat and humidity dressed like this. I am told I must dress somewhat modestly for the clinics on Home Island where the population is ‘strict’ Muslim. I travel by ferry between the islands to clinics during the week but after hours and weekends I need to ring the Federal Police to transport me on their boat.
I find its beautiful and everyone is friendly, but for a previously metropolitan doctor maybe not peachy. Mobile phones don’t work, the internet either didn’t work or was on a permanent go slow and if I needed to evacuate a patient it would take at the very least 8 hours for help in the form of RFDS to arrive. Fresh food is something you learn to bring with you to remote islands as the supplies come in once per week at most and at worst, once per month. Some of the islands are sinking back into the Indian Ocean or is the ocean rising up? Either way, Canberra is perhaps ignoring this other than to not plan any further than ten years ahead as the islands may no longer be there.
The Cocos Malays are a beautiful and close-knit people. They are unassuming with lovely smiles, warm hearts, immaculately clean and tidy homes and despite in some ways a quite sad history at European hands, treat us whites with unfailing respect. They surprise me with both their strength, shyness and their gratitude for anything done. I can’t help making some other comparisons!
The Westies are also friendly and highly resourceful. It got out rather quickly that I was an ‘opera singer’ and not to miss an opportunity for some live music, a rarity due to isolation and cost factors
I was asked to give a little soiree. “Sure”, I said, visualising around the table at someone’s house. I was about to discover just how resourceful and determined Wendy the nurse could be. Having said “OK” on my second day of work, I was soon after presented with posters to review for a fund-raiser for the Nepalese earthquake victims, “A Night at the Opera” to be held in Scouts Park, dress formal. ‘Dress what?’ was my first thought, having brought none of my usual performing gear to a tropical island “you’re going to have to frock me Wendy”. Well frock me she did and in style!
It became obvious that Wendy knew a thing or two about creating events.
Ten days later, a locally hand-made chandelier is hanging between the coconut palms, the outdoor stage is all dressed, a corporate box bid for at $150 per ticket and in all well over 80 tickets at a range of prices had been sold on an
island with a population of 150 plus a handful of totally surprised tourists. Fortunately I had some Sing-a-long Opera backing tracks on my lap top, and my good friend Ming in Brisbane recorded and sent over some MP3 files oflighter music plus I’d managed to download a couple of others over the 6 hour period the internet takes for that kind of thing in the middle of the Indian Ocean. So the PA system is all set courtesy of a lovely older gentleman,
Jack, and the school headmaster and I venture in to the freshly made and painted Gypsy Caravan to dress. It seems quite fitting as I am singing “Stride la vampa” (The gypsy’s Azucena’s aria from Il trovatore) and Habanera, from Carmen!
Other arias I chose to sing as well were “Che faro senza Euridice by Gluck” and “Mon couer s’ouvre ta voix” (better known as “Softly awakes my Heart” from Samson and Dalila ) for the operatic selections. I follow this with some jazz and music theatre standards I know they will recognize and enjoy.
The performance is a great success and they especially love the arias from Samson and Dalila, Carmen and “Summertime.”
I get pelted with flowers. Fortunately no one gets sick on the other island, or more likely nurse Tanja has managed on her own and I don’t get called away during the performance. I’m not sure exactly how much was raised but I don’t think it was insignificant!
Now as I look back on that time and am working with Opera Australia as a causal chorus member during a summer of catastrophe in Australia that is ongoing, I remember with fondness the brilliant aquamarine of the Indian Ocean, the calm, the heat, the sand, the chandelier hanging between the coconut palms and the generosity of the Cocos people.