Ode to the long-grassers out the back

When you live in paradise, sometimes it is good to get up extra early, just to appreciate it in all its beauty.

So it was sunrise, the birds were going crazy. It was high tide, so I could hear the waves crashing on the sand. I was in the garden, which opens onto a park. Through the banana palms, I watched a family pack up their belongings, preparing for another day of trying to look like they weren't loitering.

The last few days, I'd noticed, jammed between branches in one of the park's trees, blankets and pillows, so I'd figured someone was camping there. Sitting in the garden, I watched young children dress younger children, as adults shook out the bedding and stashed it in the tree. One man came back from the public toilet, carrying bottles of water to drink and a bucket of water to wash in.

Someone peeled oranges and passed them around.

It was very orderly and peaceful, as I've always thought mornings should be. I wondered if this was the group of people I'd heard the night before, playing guitar and singing what sounded like hymns. I'd been trying to catch some of the phrases to see if I could identify the language, to figure out where these fellow travellers were from. I don't think they were speaking Yolngu Matha.

There are some very flash houses where we live. You know the tendency we whitefella coastal dwellers have to clamour for the "priceless" ocean views (I've found, funnily, they do have a price- usually a fairly hefty one)? I thought about the other properties that back onto the park, as I sat watching the family very quietly tidy up and begin to leave. Perhaps it was out of respect for people still asleep.

I'll choose to believe that's what it was, and not fear that someone looking out the kitchen window at the view they pay so much for might call the police on the "illegal" campers in their sight-line. Are there really people in the work who would dob people in for sleeping outside in a public space? Isn't public space... public?

It got me thinking about the various attitudes to "long-grassers". What are some fairly typical responses to seeing a family- no, actually, let's racialise this, just to be realistic. What are some fairly typical responses to seeing an Aboriginal family, early in the morning, out in a park, surrounded by bedding and bottles?

a) Drunks! Those bottles are of course full (or worse- empty!) of grog (or worse- metho!)
b) Stay away! They'll rob/humbug you.
c) The poor things... nowhere better to go...

Well, I'm not sure about that third one. Remember the "priceless" views around here? Who wouldn't choose to live metres from the foreshore (global warming notwithstanding). For all I know, this area, where I park my car, ride my bike and go about my business like it's my place, belonged to the family out the back for ... thousands and thousands of years. Are there any whitefellas around here, sipping g & ts in their fenced fortresses and enjoying the sunset, who can lay that sort of claim?

And then I remembered this report I'd recently read, conducted by Yolngu researchers who, using Yolngu research methodology (but, what.... you mean Aboriginal people had... academics and learning institutions before colonisation??? Didn't all that civilised stuff arrive on the First Fleet?), studied the stories of the Darwin "itinerants"/long-grassers.

I am so glad I'd read that report and was able to see our neighbour long-grassers with (hopefully) less western-biased eyes. The report can be found here:

It would help the community of Darwin a lot, I think, if police, councillors, residents of Darwin writing letters to the NT News were to read that report.

Here's a snippet:

"The main findings from this research were that for most people drinking
alcohol was not their reason for living in the long-grass."

Dear readers of, and writers to, the mainstream media: Please take a minute to read that sentence a few times.


"Rather, it was the consequence of deeper problems, which had not been addressed or resolved.

"Most people said they wanted to go home and live on their country but
there were many difficulties which prevented them doing so, and had usually
triggered their leaving in the first place. The main reason for coming to
Darwin was fear - fear of violence, including suicide, mental illness,
aggressive behaviour and galka’ (sorcery).

[I have been told there is also an increase in "intervention refugees" in the long-grass: people fleeing the proscribed areas the government has taken control of, blanket-banning porn and alcohol, enforcing leases of Aboriginal land, disempowering elders and "quarantining" welfare and CDEP wages.]

To continue from the report:

"Some people who are living in the long-grass in Darwin have come to seek
medical treatment, or to look after a relative receiving medical treatment,
and have been unable to find acceptable, appropriate and/or affordable accommodation. When these people want to return home, they sometimes find themselves stuck, unable to afford the cost of the airfare, and having to wait until their family can afford to buy them a ticket.

"Other reasons why people chose to leave large settlements in East Arnhem
Land to live in Darwin are grief at the loss of a relative, or seeing their
elders being treated disrespectfully. They leave to escape disputes and
conflict in the community. People also leave because they feel alienated by
those in power, and cannot get jobs or access to other resources such as
housing. Some leave because they do not want to live in large settlements,
and some live on outstations in the dry, but return to Darwin for the wet
season. Many people say they enjoy the freedom of living in the long-grass."

I think the family out the back has moved in the last few days. The dry has kicked in, so rather than the shelter under the thick tree in the park, they might be sleeping out in the open, under the stars, near the beach. Or maybe their holiday in town has finished, school term has started again and they've returned to some other place they call home?

If they come back, I would like to say hello. I've been wondering if it was them who took the paw paw we left ripening on the table outside. I was hoping it was them, but it was possibly the possums.

I'd like them to feel that, when they're sleeping out the back of our house, they don't need to be silent in case we call the police, that we will say hi to them like we do our other neighbours. Who are we to either pity them or feel uncomfortable with them around.

We live in paradise, but it's most likely more theirs than it is ours.

And, in paradise, who DOESN'T love sleeping out under the stars sometimes, falling asleep to the sound of the waves?