will the real australian please stand up?

The last 6 months in the Kimberley region of Australia have been a bittersweet enrichment. My child health clinics in very remote areas allowed access to bright and dark elements of Australia’s fabric. There is an incredibly rich and historic culture that spreads across the desert, freshwater and saltwater people. It is punctuated by spiritualism, identity and family. Stories of creation and great warriors soak the bold landscape. Long stretches of bushland have been described to me as a vast network of highways, having been travelled by foot for thousands of years.

How then, does a living 50 000 year old culture suddenly have to fight for sustenance? There is a broken spirit, despairing for a dismantled past and stolen future. Respect has been forcibly removed, and a path back has not been mapped.

Graduates of the Australian school system will be familiar with European settlement, the occasional rifle vs spear battle and the “close the gap” campaign. There are breaks of generally unknown gruesomeness in our recent history. Massacres of Aboriginal people are documented across Australia, with the number killed often just noted as “hundreds”. Most sites are now a residue of history, with evocative names like Skull Creek. I am unsure why we are taught more about Roman emperors than this difficult aspect of Australian history. It is shameful that the massacres occurred, and it is shameful that they are poorly acknowledged. The weight of history must not be underestimated. These issues have an ongoing direct impact on the lives of Australians, as I found out in conversation with local Aboriginal men on the verandah at Fitzroy Crossing.

Recent events have once again propelled Indigenous policy into the minds and media of general Australia. For those who have any connection with the affected areas, the issues are not revelations, they are reminders.

The vast majority of Australians are horrified when we hear about Indigenous suicide/sickness/insert latest media article. Media stories can drive a discussion which occurs in lunchbreaks around the country. Discussion leads to education and opinion, and I believe this is where our approach to Indigenous Australians needs to improve.

How do we provoke discussion? Indigenous issues jump into the mainstream if there is a human element to a story. An enthusiastic statistical discussion is not going to happen, but questioning the reason guards shackle an Indigenous child is more thought-provoking. Seeing the people behind the statistics creates an impetus to learn more. We need exposure to those affected to understand the actuality of “closing the gap”. Seek out indigenous journalism, find out the name and beliefs of your local mob, and start a discussion.

It is easy to look away from the intense glare of a horrible reality. We need to adjust our eyes and face the truth. With education, exposure and acknowledgement, we will be able to improve lives and appreciate the full richness of Indigenous culture.

aeromedical retrieval

The prospect of doing aeromedical retrievals across the Kimberley was another strong motivation to work here. My first retrieval did not disappoint. The pilot dodged plumes of stormclouds and shocks of lightning illuminated all corners of the cabin. Below us, rivers converged into huge deltas and canyons were filled in with jagged shadows. We covered a lot of land. The total distance was greater than a return flight between Sydney and Melbourne.

Leaving Broome. Cable Beach in the foreground.

outreach trip 2: fitzroy crossing and bayulu community

The Fitzroy Valley has shifted seasons since I was last here. The daytime temperature has reduced from 43 degrees to a mild 35 degrees. Broad storm fronts have caused the Fitzroy River to swell and rise up the banks. Grasshopper plagues peppered the windscreen and filled up the gaps in the front grill of the car.

“Drive for 15 minutes up the highway, then turn right at the big hill”

Once again, I was privileged to visit a small Aboriginal community. A group of four year olds led me to the clinic, then went back to their stick and rock games. There was a lot of laughter, possibly induced by my new broad-brimmed hat. It was a fantastic paediatric clinic. The cheeky kids and proud mums gave me the impression that Bayulu is thriving.

The Fitzroy River in full flow

The black kite probably met the same fate as its lunch.

outreach clinic 1: fitzroy crossing, noonkanbah, wangkatjungka

Over the next six months, I'll be visiting the Fitzroy Valley regularly to conduct child health clinics. My first five-day trip has given me much to write about: outback characters, 360 degree horizons, isolation and the other country that seems to exist in Australia. This post focuses on a group of great people I hope to continue working with.

The Fitzroy Valley has one of the highest rates of Fetal Alcohol Syndrome Disorder (FASD) in the world. 1 in 8 children are affected. It is caused by drinking alcohol during pregnancy, which can result in the child having brain damage. Behaviour, thinking ability and performance of everyday tasks are usually affected. It is incredible that this preventable disability is so common in a first-world country, the extent was only appreciated when a study was published one year ago. There is some good news though: drinking in pregnancy is reducing, and the children can improve their thinking with appropriate therapy.

But how do you get teams of therapists to some of the most remote areas in Australia? A non-government organisation, Patches Paediatrics, is attempting this massive task. I met their team at a remote community school, and was surprised to see a physiotherapist, neuropsychologist, speech pathologist, occupational therapist and paediatrician working with the kids. The team works closely with the local community, and the whole process was very impressive. I'll meet them again next month, and I believe there's great potential for their healthcare model in rural childhood chronic disease.

For more information, have a look at this TED talk by the director of Patches Paediatrics.

My nausea-inducing ride to one of the clinics

pub conversations at fitzroy crossing

Rodney, an Aboriginal cattle ringer, proudly told me about his son’s bull-riding.

“He’ll be big in the rodeo one day.

He’ll earn good money. Maybe help me out.”

Rodney then rubs the memory of his hands. His fingers are bent and gnarled, and there are irregular bony lumps in palm. I ask him how he worked on the land with hands that had been repeatedly fractured.

“Just had to do it.

Wish I could get some money because I can’t work that well now.”

We chatted about the importance of family, then he shook my hand weakly as we parted.

last light

I was chatting with a fellow healthcare worker yesterday and learnt an interesting quirk. Watching the sunset at Cable Beach is apparently an experience that many people aspire to. Judging by our time at Cable Beach so far, this doesn't surprise me. Unfortunately, ticking this item off your bucket list can be more difficult if you suddenly approach the end of your life.

"There are people" my new friend said, "who rush to jump on a plane to Broome, despite being very sick. They deteriorate due to the slightly lower oxygen levels over a long flight, and get taken straight from the airport to the hospital. People have travelled thousands of kilometres across Australia, then died in hospital five kilometres from the Cable Beach."

back to broome

There are a few differences this time around. Six years ago, our random wanderings here involved hikes, bikes and crocodiles. Now we're back with Biscuit Boy and Rhino, who are 4 years old and 2 months old. The pull to come back to Broome has always been strong... even stronger than the intimidating task of flying 6000km with the family to an area of extreme weather and isolation. We're settling in for six months, and will hopefully reach a deeper understanding of The Kimberley.

A few happenings in the last week:
Two green tree frogs were gently relocated from our toilet to the garden.
We were invited to Dingo Joe's birthday party.
Terrence introduced me to traditional Aboriginal spear fishing.

Once again, I've been astonished by the embedded palette of colours...

Gantheaume Point