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.

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

broome: observations from a park bench

A Landcruiser roars to rest at the kerbside. The driver jumps out and slaps on his broad-brimmed hat. All his clothes, from top to boots, are tinged with a dusty red hue. His sun-induced wrinkles aren't even spared. He'll pick up some supplies as fast as possible, then head back out to his property.

A lady, probably in her fifth decade, strolls past with her labrador. The grains of wet sand are camoflaged by the dog's off-white hair. She wears a purple-flowered sarong, sandy bare feet and a smile.

A battered campervan creaks to a halt. The paintwork looks like grey, acid-wash jeans. A young couple slowly climb out, nattering away in German. Their bronze skin in decorated with frayed string and shell jewellery on ankles and wrists. They press a creased map out on the side of the van and decide where to go next.

Cable beach

The red pindan dust stains the ocean.

The Japanese and Chinese cemetaries are reminders of Broome's pearling history.