Jetsetting in the Northern Territory

Today I was off to a small remote community with a police officer on our taskforce. The local police force has a nice little jet to fly around to the different posts in. We didn’t get to leave on time though as there was technical difficulties in filing the flight plan – computer, phone, and fax were giving the pilot issues, but he persevered and was finally able to file a verbal flight plan that would allow us to lift off. The flight is a scheduled one that takes members and other items to the various outposts in this part of the territory. Today they loaded a door on…

The plane was a 10 seater (including pilot & co-pilot seats) however there was more cargo than the door in the back, so only four seats in the cabin were available. I took a second row seat to give the tall men who boarded with me more legroom. There wasn’t a co-pilot but the copper I was with offered to fly the plane…I’m not sure if he was joking or not. We did have a long conversation about skydiving later on, so he might not have been. The flight was quite short, just 20 minutes, or so heading northeast of Alice Springs over the Hart’s Range of mountains, which are pictured here. The range looks like a ridge on a dinosaur to me, pushed up from the earth. Apparently, there are gems and minerals in them thar hills such as garnets, black and green tourmaline, sphene, mica, smoky and rose quartz, aquamarine, sunstone, rubies, iolite, and kyanite. I have no idea what some of those are but they are listed in the LP guidebook. We passed by an outstation where you can mine for your own garnets and quarts, so I may have to check that out sometime when I’m out on my own time. I also spotted three different waterholes from the air. The landscape is so very different from Canada this way. I have yet to see a lake or flowing river, whereas in Canada there are so many lakes and rivers of all sizes.

Once the flight was over, we got into the business of the day and visited with a youth at the airstrip who happened to be on his way out of town with other family for what is known as “sorry business” – a family funeral. It is impolite to speak the name of the person who has died, so it is generally just referred to as “sorry business”. We spoke with him over the racket of the jet that was headed out to its next destination, not exactly the prime interview location, but we managed. Then we were off to the police station for a few introductions. From there we were given a police vehicle to get around town in so we were off in search of the health centre and then the school for some interviewing. Both were rather easy to find as we saw several signs for each.

I haven’t written about the communities much, nor have I taken photos as I wonder if it is appropriate or not while working, however the conditions in most of the Aboriginal communities are very similar. Most housing in the Northern Territory is built of either brick, concrete, cinder block, or galvanized corrugated steel. They never use wood because of the termites found just about anywhere in this neck of the woods, such as found in the termite mound I took a photo of. So while the houses in the communities are quite solid and will last for many years, the houses do deteriorate with lack of maintenance. Floors are bare concrete, as are front porches. Most families sleep on basic steel cots with springs, and an old mattress or piece of foam on top of it. The beds are often outside, as many prefer to sleep outside, particularly during hot summer nights when the solid buildings gather too much heat to sleep in them. Many of these beds are in very rough shape, with pieces missing from the mattresses and foam. Blankets are optional it seems, and are also in rough shape. There is often a lot of garbage scattered everywhere, in piles, or otherwise. Some say they don’t pick it up because it is “whitefella trash” even though it is from their consumption, but considered to be manufactured by whitefellas so not theirs. Others think this is a lazy cop-out for not wanting to pick up the trash. All I know is there is a lot of it, and it stinks in the hot sun, as flies rise from the piles as you pass by. Not all homes are like this, but the bulk of them are. I’ve yet to enter one of the homes and have been warned that I probably don’t want to. We do most of our interviews as informal chats, often standing around, or squatting on the ground under the shade of a desert oak. The refrigerators are often standing outside on the porch step. Food cabinets are also often found outside, with a padlock on them. The windows may or may not be there, and are often broken, and taped up. Blankets hang in most windows to keep the heat of the sun out, and caging is over any windows that might open. That part is common for all housing that I’ve seen – for safety from thieves and probably troublesome snakes. In many yards, or outside the front gates are a dead car. And by dead, I don’t just mean parked and no longer working, I mean they have BEAT the hell out of them. The windshield has been jumped on to bash it out, the doors ripped off, the hood (known as the bonnet here) ripped and hanging off over the side, tires (tyres here) always gone, upholstery ripped to shreds, and often the car has been set on fire at some point. You can also find dead cars along the highways where families have left them when they either break down or run out of gas. Sometimes they are the ones who set them on fire…sometimes they aren’t.

Among all of this are families of people who walk barefoot through the rubble. People of all ages walk barefoot both in their communities and in the city, which I am still quite fascinated by. Folks in the cities often go shopping and do their business in town without shoes. I don’t know how they don’t cut or burn their feet. There is often glass all over the place from the drinking of the day/night. The back alleys, particularly near the main child welfare office is often littered with broken liquor bottles, foil wine bladders, dirty diapers (nappies here) and bits of clothing, not to mention steaming piles of … and fresh pools of urine. I know, lovely. Urine does not smell good in the hot sun and with little rain, it doesn’t get washed away for some time unless someone is out there with a hose.

There are also a LOT of community dogs of all shapes and sizes. Every one of them mutts, often looking half-starved, missing a leg or an eye, matted fur, and just plain mangy looking. They love to chase our vehicles and bite the tires, that is when they are not lifting their leg over them…

As poor as the communities present themselves, the people seem to be happy enough and enjoy spending time with family members. Most yards will have large groups of people sitting out, chatting, playing cards, and passing the time, often in the shade of the hot sunny afternoons.

We visited the medical clinic and met with the NIC (Nurse in Charge) for introductions and information gathering. After a bit of a chat, we determined that rural health centres here in Australia are very similar to the health centres in rural northern Canada. Not many nurses stay for long because of how the community treats them, passive aggressiveness, lateral violence, and the usual bullshit of small towns. If they decide they don’t like you because they didn’t get what they want, they will simply lodge a complaint about you, which often leads to a major investigation by outsiders who do not understand how things work. The NIC was a long-timer, having been there for about 5-6 years, and is looking at retirement in her near future. As in Canada, the health centre nurses are always a terrific source of community information, as they know everyone, and despite what the locals think of whitefellas and the nurses in general, they tell them all sorts of things because they feel it is safe to, whereas they often cannot trust their own in the community not to gossip.

From the clinic, we went to the school. More issues there. A few of the teachers had to be removed because of some bullying and there were temporary teachers in their place while that was sorted out elsewhere. The interim principal we spoke with was the third principal this year. It is only April, and the term started in late January. The school year is broken up into much different terms than in Canada, with no 3-month summer break, but a series of month long breaks during particular seasons. The schools in general are in good shape, kept clean, and new funding for improvements as required. The playgrounds are often quite nice with brightly painted tubular equipment as you would see in Canadian playgrounds. Much of the play areas are shaded by either trees or structures. The schoolyards are always fenced with high chain-link that is locked at the end of the day, or during school if there is community rioting, or troublesome youth who are banned from the grounds. Most children are barefoot at school, and sports clothing seems to be the chosen outfits.

After the school visit, it was back to the police station to eat our packed lunch while chatting up the local police. One of the officers was looking for a gun, I mean something to kill a brown snake he had just seen outside. It slithered off into the grass before he could kill it. Brown snakes are deadly, even though the one he saw was just a baby. Venom is venom.

Following lunch, we were off in the police vehicle for the 2.5-hour drive back to Alice Springs. We were taking the vehicle in for the local officers for repairs. The clutch was almost non-existent…their excuse was from towing out local vehicles all the damn time. Much of the road was dirt for a while, and very rippled, making for a very loud drive for about 60kms. We had a few floodway crossings where the creeks had dried up, but not before they ripped out much of the bitumen (asphalt) which had not been repaired yet. This is when a 4x4 comes in handy as the missing bitumen leaves giant chunks out of the roadways. Today the copper that was in with me plugged in his iPod to the stereo in the vehicle (a Toyota Hilux) and we drove back listening to Fleetwood Mac and the Rolling Stones. Awesome. As long as it wasn’t country music, I was happy enough.

We didn’t see any wildlife other than the suicidal birds that continued to hit the roo bar (to keep the kangaroos you might hit from destroying your engine). We did however see many termite mounds, and lots of paddy melons, which are fairly small melons similar looking to a watermelon, but very bitter and inedible, not even the locals use them. They are poisonous to eat, so generally are just thrown around, left on the road to run over with your 4x4. We also stopped off at the Tropic of Capricorn monument, as we cross that boundary. Clearly, the birds use the statue to perch on as the base was covered in bird shit.

It was a busy and productive day. Often visits to the community will lead us on a wild goose chase to track down people, as they are rarely where we expect to find them, and people move around the community often, sleeping here or there, stopping over with this relative or the other for a day, week, month, or year! This trip we were able to see everyone, and the allegations were not substantiated so a good day all around.