On a recent visit to Spotted Tiger, a small outstation in the Harts Range and the traditional country of my friend Helen and her family, I had the chance to talk to an old man, sitting on the back porch of his house in Atitjere, a relatively large community off the plenty highway. We sat watching the children playing in the yard with a garden hose, hosing each other amidst howls of laughter. At first we talked about the weather, this year’s, last year’s, it never rains when you want it to!! I sit here every day, just looking and thinking, wondering what it was all about; waiting to die He said to me. I felt a lot of compassion for him, as I do for all the old people. I had no words of comfort, there is nothing I could say, except in that most eloquent of languages: silence, as we sat and watched the day together.! ! This encounter reminded me of a visit I had made to see the old men from Ampilatwatja who were camped out near an old soakage in protest against the Government’s intervention. When I first arrived at the camp, Donald came over to greet me and we walked back to his camp. The men had been making boomerangs and spear throwers and there were wood shaving piled up everywhere; I could see they had been busy. Old Donald Thompson Apetyarr sat on a metal chair in the middle of his camp, flour drums hanging from the low mulga bushes. Every now and then a camp dog would stir, have a scratch and go back to sleep. Donald had asked me to come out and film an interview with him. After setting up the camera I sat patiently waiting for Donald to begin.! ! The Government been saying these new ways to go ahead, but these are not new ways! same as the old days when we had ration cards, now we have green cards, same, same. In the old days we take our card and always get rations. Now , sometimes they tell us we got nothing. What this Government want us to do ... go backwards?”! ! Donald became quiet and we both sat in silence. What could I say? I knew he was right. ! “Lets go for a walk Donald said as he rose from his chair. We strolled through the red soil and Donald pointed out a small flowing bush. This bush is that young fella’s dreaming, see,” He said turning around to the young man behind us, who was smiling at me shyly. We stopped at a shallow depression and Donald pointed to it and said to me, This old soakage been here forever, forever we been living around this soakage, not many ceremonies done now, nearly all gone on that other side he said pointing in the direction of the Western desert.! ! The truth of the occupation of Australia and the treatment metered out to the many tribes across this vast country is history but not what I call common. Most Australians seem to have very little knowledge of the Australian Tribes and the affect of the occupation of their traditional lands. The first intruders into traditional tribal lands were not necessarily nice people, they were mostly soldiers of fortune. As we all know, this county was declared terra nullius, void of people, making it open to exploitation. Anything that got in the way of this empty resolution was to be removed. I know this is a simplification of events but essentially true. Everywhere I go, I see the effects of suppression on a culture and its beliefs; the effects of destroying what was most sacred, taking away the flesh and leaving only the bones. As I continue to get to know, like and respect more and more tribal people, the effects of this suppression feels increasingly poignant to me.!
Posted on: Mon, 15 Sep 2014 22:56:20 +0000
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