What do you think of when you hear reference to Alice Springs? Perhaps it is the touristy vision of red desert plains, Uluru, rock art and Aboriginal cultural destinations. Perhaps you remember the news reports of youth sniffing petrol to get ‘high’ - or any of the other social problems such as domestic violence, alcohol abuse, suicide and gang violence. Perhaps you think of Alice as one of Australia’s backward towns out bush, where life is slow and residents are still struggling to enter the 21st century. Or perhaps you see Alice as one of the last frontiers, still basking in its natural glory while embracing ecologically friendly ‘new’ ways of living. On the other hand, maybe you have watched “The Alice” TV series and see the action packed lives of attractive young professionals out here in the rugged centre (we’re all like that, honest!)
Whatever your view, you are sure to find some evidence to support it. However, none of these descriptions really give an accurate picture of the diverse life here in the Centre. I’ve also realised, that all these views give a pretty distorted vision of the people who live here – especially the Aboriginal mob whose ancestors have been here for millennia. Unconsciously they become ‘tourist attractions’, ‘a lost generation’, ‘hopeless welfare cases’, ‘romanticised natives’, ‘primitive cultures’. And without living here and getting to know them, perhaps this is the default option. I don’t have that excuse any more, and over the past couple of months I have had to deal with my own hidden racism and bigotry.I don’t have the answers. But I invite you to come along as I meet the diverse people who call the Centre home. And I’ll share the questions, and occasional insights I find along the way.
How charitable is Charity?
“TACK” – The Alice Community Kitchen is an initiative set up by a few young enthusiastic and socially minded individuals. The idea is simple – each week they cook up a hearty meal, load it onto a colourfully decorated trailer, cart it down to the Town Council lawn, and serve it out for free to anyone who cares to rock up.I joined them on Friday night to lend a hand. After a week seeing patients at the clinic, it was nice to be outside getting my hands into some cooking, cleaning, and meeting interesting folk. Of the 120+ people who joined us for dinner, 99% were Aboriginal folk from in town or visiting from the more remote communities. The average age was perhaps 40ish, but there was a significant minority of youth, children and young families. Many were regulars who came along every Friday night. The environment was nice and relaxed, and there were enough volunteers to mean we had time to sit and eat with all those being served. As a bonus, the volunteers were a super-interesting bunch themselves who were doing all sorts of work in the Centre, all united in a common interest in social issues and inequality.
I sat for a while chatting to Eddie, a 21 year old guy who lived in one of the Town Camps. We talked about all the usually topics – going bush, football, cars, girls – then he turned to me and asked, “so, you like serving food and stuff?”. An innocent question, but it got my excitable little mind churning with questions.Is that all we were doing – just serving food for the sake of charity? Was this charity actually doing good? Could it have actually been doing harm? Perhaps it was simply perpetuating dependency and entrenching the ‘them’ and ‘us’ mentality with all its unfair expectations. Does TACK actually serve any purpose bigger than a free feed on Friday? Does it make any difference in the long-term? Then again, surely the community spirit, the opportunity to share with others is in itself a worthy endeavour?
I don’t know. Maybe next week I’ll find some of the answers.
My Corolla is so Tough
Last weekend I jumped in the car with my brother Tristan and we headed off to find some more adventure. We headed north along the Stuart Highway (keeping pace with The Ghan train). Another 30kms west and then we veered onto a dirt road. Without another car in sight the ol’ Corolla revealed its rally-car heart. We paused briefly at a sign saying “4WD’s only” before launching the ol’ girl onward over rutted tracks, dry creekbeds, and bouncing down rocky ledges. An hour and a few dents later we got to a river campsite, unpacked our gear and starting trudging along the dry Fish Creek.Rumour had it that there was an ace water-hole, and according to the campsite signpost it was only 800m away. We walked 800m, then 1600m, then 3km – no waterhole. Not holding too much trust in Territorian’s estimates of distance (or time) we decided to shuffle on another few hundred metres ‘just in case’. Lucky, cos the water hole round the next corner was an absolute score. Deep red cliffs shading a cool dark pool. Heavenly!
After watching the sun set from our idyllic vantage point we dried off and headed back to the car. The drive out was even better – and I fully recommend night-time 4WDing and rallying in an ’82 Corolla. Though had anything at all gone wrong we would have faced a bloody long walk home! But isn’t that what ‘adventure’ is about?
