Post by mipela on May 29, 2016 10:45:31 GMT 10
THE JILKMINGGAN BUSH RANGERS
In June 2009 I went to Mataranka in the Northern Territory to suss out the feasibility of a small eco tourism venture at the village of Jilkminggan, some forty kilometres southeast of Mataranka, on the southwestern bank of the Roper River. The purpose behind my visit was brought about by the desire of the wife of a past acquaintance to assist a local tour operator to foster the local Aboriginal kids in becoming tour guides. This man was keen to see that the village’s kids didn’t succumb to the level of degradation most of their parents and elders had sunk to – succumbing to alcoholism, domestic violence and living on government welfare. Their purpose in life destroyed by white man’s customs and disease. This deplorable situation is something every non Aboriginal Australian citizen ought to see and maybe, be made to see, to understand.
The tour operator found a growing interest in the area by those seeking an ‘eco-tourist’ experience. He saw a business opportunity and to his credit, he saw an opportunity for the next generation of Aboriginal kids in the village to be given the chance to escape the dreadful future that awaited them if no alternative presented itself. He had begun mentoring these kids as the ‘Jilkminggan Bush Rangers’.
He hoped that they would become eco tour guides and derive a living from this enterprise but more importantly, become independent community members in their own right, able to accept responsibility for themselves and the tour groups they were expected to lead.
Like my acquaintance’s spouse, I became enthused with the idea and on visiting Jilkminggan and seeing the kids and the Roper River, I embraced the idea and agreed to develop a concept for the building that would be the base of operations. The costs involved establishing this venture would be assumed by the lady involved. My brief was to come up with a suitable building for the purpose at minimum cost and if my proposal was accepted, to oversee construction and have it completed prior to the summer ‘wet’ season.
The tour man was catering to a group of about forty teenage boys and their teachers from a private school in Melbourne. The group were camping along the picturesque Roper River and having the time of their lives. The small group of ‘Jilkminggan Bush Rangers’ were accompanying them and getting to know and evaluate these bigger kids from far away Melbourne. The “Rangers’ were fascinated by the reactions of these white kids and grown up teachers to the various birds, snakes, goannas and small fresh water crocodiles that abounded in the area.
The Roper in the dry season is a small but fast running stream coursing its way over sheets of rocky outcrops, through long billabong type holes, wending through the tropical bush, not jungle but well endowed with substantial trees and undergrowth. The water was the most appealing translucent greenish colour I had ever seen - and Barramundi were said to be plentiful.
I was told to be careful if I went wandering as the odd buffalo would probably take offence at my presence. Needless to say, I didn’t stray too far from my Nissan Patrol.
The tour man had an arrangement with the locals to work in with him as required, providing bush tucker, stories and photo opportunities for the tourists. On this particular day, I was instructed to take the tour LandCruiser wagon and return to Jilkminggan (about 4km) and collect ‘Lucy” and her gear and return to the riverbed activity ground. Lucy was regularly hired to cook bush tucker and damper for the tourists. Off I went following a very winding track along the top of the river bank, through the trees, the tall dry grass and the hundreds and hundreds of tall, red termite nests that infest the area.
I arrived at the village and there, waiting in the shade of a big tree with pots and pans beside her was an Aboriginal lady in a floral coloured dress, I reckoned this would have to be Lucy. I pulled up beside her. ‘G’day. You Lucy ?’ ‘Yes’, she replied ‘Wait on Boss, I gotta get my gear’. I thought she already had her ‘gear’ but I overlooked the tucker ingredients. The rear bay of the LandCruiser and the rear footwells were already fairly full with swags and other camping stuff and I wondered if there would be enough room. Whilst I’m waiting for Lucy to return, my presence is attracting quite a crowd of ‘picaninnies’, small kids from about 5 to 12 years of age, all looking excited, all looking expectantly at me but why, I couldn’t immediately fathom. The dozen or so bright eyed, eager, grinning young faces both intrigued me and captivated me.
Lucy returned carrying many plastic bags of stuff, the ‘tucker’ I guessed, and as she was climbing into the front passenger seat she asked ‘It orright for these kids to come too?’ I looked back on these bright, hugely smiling young faces waiting eagerly outside my window. The penny dropped, this is what they had been anticipating ! I hesitated, wondering how I was going to select a few lucky ones and try to not disappoint those who would be left behind. “OK” I reluctantly replied, ‘But I don’t think there’s room enough for all of them.’ ‘Ah, that’s OK’ said Lucy, ‘They’ll get in.’ And in they scrambled, they were ‘in’ alright, all in in a flash and about three deep ! So, loaded to the gills and bulging with small brown kids, I set off for slowly for the campground, back along the riverbank, dodging the trees and anthills. All these bright eyed little and lively little kids are gabbering away, nineteen to the dozen, like a lot of little brown monkeys.
I’m closely watching where I’m driving and trying to hear what all these kids are saying when from behind me, a little brown hand sneaks onto my left shoulder, I look in the rear vision mirror and I see a little brown face with a wide grin and a row of perfect white teeth grinning at me. He pushed closer toward me and patting my shoulder said, ‘Hey ! You my friend, I’m your friend, ay !”
Were you to ask me about my disposition, I would reply that I have a thick skin and not very sentimental – well, I suddenly mellowed considerably more than I’d like to admit, my heart went out to this little brown livewire of innocence, I just wanted to mother him and take him home with me !
At that moment, I saw what my friend’s spouse saw, here were young people who needed help to lift them out of the natural cycle of despair and poverty that would likely become their lot if nature took it's course. I must report that sadly, this venture eventually failed to eventuate, the cost too much.
Written 15 October 2013.
Mipela.