Kowanyama

It lies unassuming at the end of a 600 km dirt road, an Aboriginal community of about a thousand souls. Kowanyama means "Place of Many Waters," and it is aptly named. The landscape is reminiscent of that seen in the film "Ten Canoes", a vast floodplain with wetlands that harbour all sorts of animal life, including geese, goannas, wallabies and of course crocodiles. During the wet season (December to March) it is completely isolated by land, with air freight flights delivering perishable goods and serving as the only connection to the outside world. During the dry season the roads open up and commerce resumes as usual. On our first trip we got there with our fuel tanks on empty and found out the diesel truck had just arrived the week before to refill the service station tanks. Had we been a week earlier, we would have had an extended Kowanyama vacation.

Life in Kowanyama is, as expected, very laid back. A large diesel generator supplies power to the community, and people purchase debit cards to supply their houses from the grid. An underground aquifer provides drinking water. Family groups gather in circles, in that compelling Aboriginal way, in the grass throughout the day. What they talk about, I haven't yet had the privilege of learning. Being in Kowanyama makes you realize how little time white people spend with each other. There, people are always outside. Walk down the street at night and almost every house has a group of people out on the porch, talking quietly. During the day children roam the way we used to when we were kids, hopping on bikes and staying out of eyesight and earshot of parents until bedtime.

On our first trip there we were out exploring when a cattleman, looking just crazy and wily enough to have forged a living in those remote parts, pulled up in his truck. A young Aborigine rode in back with the remains of a freshly slaughtered cow. Raptors circled overhead hoping for an easy meal. I became aware that this may have been the closest I will ever come to the rural sub-Saharan Africa experience - whitefella up front, blackfella in back, a dead cow and buzzing flies, and dry dusty heat. And I guess in a sense it works. Kowanyama is a functional, respectable community, a place that would be fun to live in (if you don't mind the odd snake in your toilet).

Yet despite the isolation and the "traditional way of life" in parts of the community, all the trappings of modern society are there. Hip hop music, alcohol, processed food to name a few. I must admit that it is a little disconcerting being there, seeing such a noble culture being eroded by our white influence. And the paternalistic Queensland government continues with a controversial strategy known as "the intervention," a series of reforms meant to curb growing domestic violence in Aboriginal communities. These include withholding social security payments from untrustworthy individuals and severe limits on alcohol sales, to name a few. On our second trip there we arrived after dark, weary from seven straight days in the bush. Our vehicles were searched by white police once we crossed the town limits because carriage of alcohol into many of these communities carries exhorbitant fines (up to $75,000). As the driver, I was even given the breathalizer (and came in at 0.00% alcohol!). Upon entering the town we found the streets choked with people, slowly wandering back home after the canteen had closed. It was more than a little intimidating, especially since we had instructions to "find Willy when you get into town.....just ask around." Willy is one of the Rangers, great guy, and fortunately Dominic and I recognized him almost immediately amongst the flood of people. He set us up at a guesthouse, but not before a long conversation with his wife, Hazelene, who is one of the few Aboriginal teachers at the school (the remainder are white). She was adamant about the effects of the intervention on her community, and I must admit I agree with her. These people have lost their right to self-determination. If you want to have a beer in Kowanyama, you have to wait until the canteen opens on Thursday, Friday or Saturday night at 6:30. You then have a limit of six beers and they must be consumed by 9:00 when the canteen closes. I still have my souvenir punch card showing that Tim Jardine used one of his six drinks on the 19th of June 2008. Just imagine introducing these kinds of measures in a white community in Australia or elsewhere. You would be confronted by outrage, and the outrage would be totally justified. While I may not adhere to the strictly libertarian principles of my brother, I can certainly see his point on a lot of matters.

Having said all that, Australia is making moves forward in some respects. Prime Minister Kevin Rudd made global headlines with his apology on behalf of all white Australians for the ill-fated government policy of removing children from Aboriginal communities in the 20th century, literally stealing them from their families to be placed in boarding schools if they had any trace of white blood. From what I understand the apology was well received in Aboriginal communities, and I'm thankful for that. I'm not sure if a similar apology by Stephen Harper in parliament for our similarly poor treatment of Native Canadians was as momentous, perhaps someone can fill me in.

All told I've spent a total of four days in Kowanyama, not nearly enough time, but more trips are planned. I'll continue to keep an eye on developments there and in other Aboriginal communities. Somewhere along the line blackfellas and whitefellas will figure out how to get it right, how to stitch together a culture that stretches back 60,000 years, while elevating its members to the level of dignity that they deserve. Until then, we can take solace in knowing that they still prefer grilled wallaby and turtles to pancakes.