Part of the Notre Dame study abroad program, I arrived in Perth on August 29. All summer long, I dreamed about what it would be like: kangaroos hopping across the street, beaches crowded with surfers, shrimp on the barbie. After the 15-hour plane ride across the Pacific Ocean, I was disappointed to find Fremantle looked more like a coastal town in Long Island than the Outback I had imagined. A 5-day camping trip in the Outback, however, revealed the true Australian character I had been hoping to see.
While British colonists settled most of the coastland in the 1700’s, many groups of Aboriginal Australians have preserved societies in the less inhabited coastal and inland areas. The “Kimberley,” the most northern part of Western Australia, has been inhabited for 40,000 years by the original Australians. The term “Aborigines” refers to these original Australians who migrated to the country from South East Asia.
Relations between white Australians and Aborigines have been strained since James Cook first explored the eastern coast for the British empire in 1770. The terror of the “stolen generation” movement, a period when white missionaries took half-caste Aboriginal children from their families, put further tension on the interracial relations of the Aborigines and the descendants of the original settlers.
Sporting stereotypical Outback Jack hats, we descended the airplane stairs to intense heat. We were not in Fremantle anymore. The land, light brown and flat, stretched for miles. The endless, flat view was intercepted only by startlingly clear blue beaches.
Colin and Maria, our Aboriginal guides, picked us up from the Notre Dame Broome campus the next morning. After about three hours of off-roading, red dirt flying up around the vans, we pulled up to the waterside campsite. Our ocean-front view, however, disappeared the next afternoon with the drastic tide changes. Blankets and pillows were rationed out as we listened to Colin and Maria warn us to zip up our tents at night so that snakes would not crawl in.
Each morning, we heard a talk from Colin, the father of the Aboriginal family, about the problems facing their communities.
We listened to him tell us about his belief in spirits, and how he got his kangaroo totem from a hunting expedition of his father’s before he was born. He pointed to the birthmark on his forehead, the same location the kangaroo was hit with a spear.
We listened as he told us the story of his mother being taken by white missionaries when she was born.
We listened as he explained his belief in encounters with the dead. We debated him when he questioned our religion.
Explorations complimented conversations. We ventured all over the Kimberley, from One Arm Point Beach to mangrove forests, where we caught crabs with handmade spears.
There are more efficient ways to kill a kangaroo than by spear today, but for the Aborigines, the spear is not just a weapon, but an emblem of their culture and a token of their past. Holding his iPhone in one hand and a hand fashioned spear in the other, Colin’s son preserved this culture without sacrificing the benefits of modern technology.
On the last day, Colin described his people’s fight against the government for rights to the land they have inhabited for thousands of years. The land is highly sought after for its rich mineral resources.
To illustrate his point, Colin took us to a rock formation neighboring the beach. Where we saw rough breaks, he pointed out his ancestors’ footprints.
Our Australian professor estimated the prints were 30,000 years old. Brian sees the footprints as a mark of his family’s right to the land. In America, we point to a typed document as evidence that our house belongs to us. We value a legal signature on a piece of paper over a personal relic like an old photograph of ourselves in front of the house.
That night around the campfire, our professor explained the controversy surrounding the fossils. In 20 years time, the footprints will be wiped away by erosion and human contact. In order to preserve the fossils, the stone must be cut from the untouched land and sent to a museum far away.
But for the Aborigines, the prints cease to be definitive evidence of their historic ownership of the land unless they remain in the ground. It is a Catch 22: the prints mean nothing if they are taken from the land, but will not survive if they are left.
It’s easy for a group of college students to get caught up in the excitement that comes along with change. However, what remains important is our ability to preserve our true identity. Where we come from and what we value will always be more important than the title before our name. We’re trained to point to a resume to tell who we are, just as the government is ready to point to legal documents to say who belongs to what land. Seeing these footprints hit home harder than reading any ink on paper.
Kat Wilson is a junior marketing major. Contact her kwilson9@nd.edu.
