It’s our second night on The Big lift, and as our bus pulled up onto the dirt road in front of the giant tin shed that would be our home for the next day, I wondered what crazy shenanigans were in store for us in this leg of our journey.
So this is Wee Waa.
And having been warned beforehand that the townsfolk would prefer us to call it ‘Wee-Waar’ and not my initial, still currently and probably forever instinct to call it ‘Wee-Waah’, I tried to open my eyes and embrace this town for what it was. Little did I suspect that Wee Waa would be the town to literally bring us closer together through blood, sweat and tears and horse dung. Yes, you read right, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
After the high of leaving the amazing Geurie with dirt on our pants and paint on our hands, the thought of showers fuelled us into thinking that Wee Waa was the place to be. Of course, that was before we learned that our resting place was heater-less, concrete floored and drafty as hell. Winter was coming and Winter was definitely here to stay - the appeal for a shower diminished completely for me, though a few daring souls braved through the chilly night breeze.
That night, with our bellies full of spag-bol lovingly cooked with Lou’s expert guidance as head chef and the night’s dinner team, we suited up in our many layers and prepared for a cold evening. We held hands that night under the stars. That was a moment I will never forget.
The third day brought us sunshine and our eager selves were ready to make impressive difference in this town. We were keen to bring joy and happiness to the lives of Wee Waa, pay it forward - you know, all them good feels. We had three mighty tasks prepared that day: making lunch, empty garbage cans and clean horse stables. We split into three groups and I unwittingly chose the latter with the hope of being one with the horseys.
Hours and hours were spent sweating, feet deep in fecal matter, shovels and rakes sweeping majestically while lifting up a fog of suspicious (poop) dust around us, making our eyes tear. The sounds of hard labour were music to some ears but in the end we endured and lived to tell the tale of Wee Waa.
On the other hand, another team totally strenuously and tirelessly emptied bins around the field. On the back of a ute. Blasting music. Wielding a toy gun.
As a reward, we got freshly picked mandarins and fresh cotton picked off the road-side.
All jokes aside, while the town of Wee Waa certainly was not what I expected, we definitely bonded over a hard day’s of work, covered in dirt and other not so pleasant substances. Returning to our hall for lunch with an insatiable hunger, we were surprised with delicious sandwiches that were laid before us, made by our lovely lunch team. Back in no time we had everyone roaring in laughter as people made important pregnancy announcements, proposals, solo renditions of ‘Happy’ and weirdly enough dog noises, around the table. Loading our bags back onto the bus, we were happy to leave Wee Waa and move onto our next stop of our trip. Our mission? Find a warm shower.