It's been a while...so just to make sure that AT LEAST we've posted all the stunning photos from our Darwin-to-Kakadu National Park excursion, here they are in no particular order. Shoot first, answer questions later.
(And yes, you may recognize some of the scenery from the original Crocodile Dundee.)
We ran from Darwin Wharf in the morning [photo 1] past the WWII Tunnels where oil was stored in secret [photo 2] to fish feeding around noon at Aquascene (Doctors Gully). There, Diamondback Mullet, Catfish, Milkfish, and a few other types of fish come in on the high tide to eat bread from human hands [photo 3]. Yes, it's a bit weird - sliced white bread isn't the obvious choice for fish food, but they seem to like it well enough to come back day after day. If you don't have bread in your hand, the optimistic mullet will still suck on your fingers. The strangest part, however, is the crowd, which consists of 1) the stringy older woman who barks out orders and factoids for everyone else through a lavalier microphone, 2) the chubby touring couples, who are spending far too much "down" time in Darwin and are enjoying their only activity of the day 3) the touring families with five year old kids that are frightened to death of swarming fish, 4) the slightly older kids who consistently try to lure the fish near and then squeeze them around their midsection, and 5) the twentysomethings passing through who are in disbelieving awe of the whole spectacle. That last category was us.
From there, we continued in that same vein to Crocosaurus Cove, back in the center of town. M was buying a ticket without fail. R debated with herself during the entire twenty minute walk to the entrance - was this was going to be worth $28AUD? In some ways it was, and in all ways, it was exactly what we expected...the most interesting elements not being the gargantuan, lazy crocodiles in cages [photos 4-7] but the maps of where each crocodile, alligator, and caiman is found in the world and the table of "biting pressures," stating that the saltwater croc's bite exerts 3,400 kg of pressure on its victim. Together, we decided that the "Cage of Death" view of the crocs, which priced out around $150, would not be worthwhile.
And what thrilling day would be complete without high tea? Included in the "FIFTY Things To Do In Darwin" List (really, are there actually fifty?) was a Sunday visit to the historical Burnett House. We walked about a mile outside of town, praying that the impending rain would hold off, to see the most visited of a series of four homes from the late 1930's, which used to house government officers. Ten volunteers were chatting and setting out tea service for the few straggling guests. We first took a look around the house, and the tropical architecture was truly interesting [photo 8 and 9]. The upstairs was almost all storm windows that could be opened for natural air conditioning, or "battened down," as they say, for cyclones. The Burnett House and its companions weathered Cyclone Tracy in 1974 and the Japanese bombings of 1942 before that. We were glad -- it was delightful, and we had some of the best black tea of all time.
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Once we had learned that we weren't going to be traveling with Tracker, we kept a keen eye out for other ways to visit Aboriginal communities. A couple minor events had clued us in already that our dream of visiting indigenous farms and houses out in the countryside might not be well-received in Australia. A tour guide told us that none of the groups were running their "bush tucker" tours at this time of year, because the flooding covered the roads leading to Arnhem Land, where the majority of the traditional communities were. A governmental worker we met at the supermarket let us know that we needed a permit at least 10 days in advance to enter Aboriginal territory [see image 1].
As crushing as all this was, this actually made sense to us. Why had we been so ignorant all along, to expect that rural folks WOULD want us showing up whenever we pleased to inquire about their lives?
Another thing bothered us, though... Even in the city center, neither the "whitefellas" or the "blackfellas" seemed to acknowledge one another. On the bus back from the Northern Territory Museum, to meet Tracker for coffee on the evening of December 16 (before he headed out of town), a white woman bumped into an Aboriginal woman suddenly when the vehicle started moving away from the curb. The Aboriginal woman made no sign of recognition that anyone had even entered her personal space. The white woman mumbled a small 'sorry' but mostly looked at M and I sheepishly when she went unnoticed by the other. And this type of thing happened over and over, and in reverse, everywhere we went around Darwin. The mutual dislike was palpable.
This will sound idiotic, but I wondered why none of this ever occurred to me in the context of American Indians. Growing up, I knew OF reservations, but never found myself in the vicinity of one. And our history books created a sense of nostalgia instead of inhumanity surrounding Manifest Destiny. Of course there would be bitterness in Australia between a group whose land had been usurped and a group who had been the usurpers, especially when it had happened about 200 years ago…even more recently than in the United States.
It began to seem that every country is a version of another country 200 years ago.
Armed with only a little insight, we met with Tracker at The Coffee Club on Mitchell Street.
I'll not claim to be an expert here, but just to try to repeat faithfully what he told us. He was part of the "Stolen Generation" of mixed race (Aboriginal/white) children that were taken from their parents between 1869 and 1969. At three years old, he was taken from the lawn of his parents' house in Alice Springs. His other siblings went to different missions up north (whiter children went north, darker children went south), but all of them were given English names and taught to live as whites. At fifteen, Tracker [using his English name rather than his "liberated" name, which reflects a skill] left the mission and attended university in Adelaide. He moved back to Alice Springs afterward and had various jobs. Until recently, he worked for the Northern Land Council - the biggest land council of the four in the Northern Territory - where Aboriginals won back land claims, though they have lived over the entire continent [see image 2]. The land councils act as a representative body for native title claimants. Among other things, Tracker has been working on climate change issues these days, and he will often show up unannounced at conferences which have been planned without consideration the rights of native peoples. He says Australia, Canada, and the United States usually cut out indigenous populations and their representatives from these talks…though he believes Australia to be the most racist country in the world and the second worst environmentalists outside the United States.
Virtually none of the Aboriginal people live in the old way anymore. Even to a casual observer, there is overwhelming substance abuse, abject poverty, and malnourishment among indigenous communities. Law officials in Darwin are constantly harassing the nomadic "long grass" people (so named for sleeping out in concealed public spaces), some of whom have fled their traditional communities now that the government has begun its Intervention. Some sources say the Aboriginal population in Darwin has increased 30% since the Intervention suspended the Racial Discrimination Act and started infiltrating Aboriginal homesteads in an effort to make change.
Knowing all of the above, we resolved to be less intrusive - we left Tracker to his mining concessions and we gave up wishing the locals would accept us. We were too far out of our comfort zone, so we just returned to what we knew – plain ol' tourism.
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After our change of heart from disappointment to zen, we left the Value Inn and our single (aka twin) bed and checked in at a more backpacker-friendly hostel called the Youth Shack. They also specialize in tour packages. Luckily we had no lack of time to dream, and their lobby walls are covered with activity brochures. Of course, most of them weren't running in the off season, so that made some decisions for us.
Ultimately, we landed on a 2-day Kakadu National Park tour that would leave Monday, December 22. At this point, it was only Saturday…
Being from Los Angeles, with what [I'm sure] is the worst public transportation of any major city in the country, I have come to appreciate bus systems in other areas. There really isn't anything better, to me, than NOT getting behind the wheel of a car. M and I were thrilled to be able to buy a bus pass around Darwin for AUD $5, and happily waited in the rain to take the #4 to Parap Market.
The market exists only on Saturdays, and is home to various produce, craft, and Asian food vendors. Compared to the markets we had just left in Cambodia, this was small time, but the Laksa wasn't bad. After an hour of browsing the crocodile leather section, we got anxious to hit the Museum and Art Gallery of the Northern Territory, which was another easy stop on the bus. The weather had cleared a bit, and on the way in, we spotted a small beach at the back of the museum property, which looked like it would be tempting for swimming in "The Dry." There were two families there, playing in knee-deep water at the edge of the sand [photo]. They must have been fearless. Evidently, there is no natural body of water that's safe for swimming in Darwin – saltwater crocodiles have their run of the place. And saltwater crocs are the most dangerous of all the crocodiles, caimans, and alligators in the world.
We thought the inside of the museum was the safest place for us. Since it's a building that contains almost everything about the Northern Territory, it has an exceptional collection for ADHD museum-goers. We went from the Timor L'Este historical section to the paleontology section to the Aboriginal art section to the Cyclone Tracy section. And we didn't even see everything before closing. Learning about Aboriginal history made us curious for a first-hand account of the current situation, and we knew Tracker wasn't leaving town until the morning, so we called his cell to invite him to coffee.
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We passed the three-month mark during this last week of inactivity. Well, M and I are back in the US of A, and among all our relatives and our old routines, it's more daunting than ever to get a blog entry finished. But we'll do our best to provide a series of flashbacks that take us through the end of Oz.
Mind you, everything you will read from this point forward took place the week before Christmas.
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IDE, whose work we visited outside the capital city, connected us with an organization they host in Siem Reap and Banteay Meanchey, called Cambodian Agribusiness Development Facility (CADF, http://www.cadf-angkor.info). Traditionally, CADF has used the same models as IDE – zero subsidy, linkage to markets, and free agricultural consultation for off-season or specialty crops. Due to the bureaucracy of setting up a new NGO in Cambodia, it was easiest for them to come under IDE's umbrella.
CADF works with the most successful farmers in the poorest areas, because these farmers have to be willing to try new things, occasionally make small investments in their own progress, and be motivators for the rest of their communities. Also, they have linked some farmers to microfinance organizations that can provide loans for materials.
On one of our last days in Siem Reap, we took a whirlwind tour of three example CADF farms outside the city, all less than a quarter hectare. Our guides were two of CADF's advisors in the area.
The first farm was 15km east of Siem Reap, in Prasat Bakong. The farmer we met, Mr. Thim Daum (photo 1), had been growing vegetables to eat for ten years, but in the last three years, he had been able to sell his surplus in local markets at a high price. For example, his off-season broccoli (photo 2) was going for $2.50 US/kg. CADF had helped his yield by helping introduce plastic mulch (to prevent weeds and control moisture) as well as shade cover for some crops (photo 3) and starter trays for seedlings (photo 4). He was also able to collect/sell fruit from the many trees he kept on his property – mango, oranges, cashews, palm, and more, and other members of his family managed small herb gardens (photo 5).
The second farm was in the same district and was run by a woman named Mrs. Phum Yat. Here, CADF had partnered with Agricultural Development Denmark Asia to make farming a women's empowerment project as well as a lucrative family business. Including Yat, twenty-three women in the community contributed 50 cents a week to a group fund, but each of them has their own strengths. Yat is known as the "Tomato Woman" around the village, because she is nearly the only one able to convert the poor soil for growing tomatoes (photo 6). She and her husband used to grow rice, went bankrupt doing that, moved homes in order to grow fruit trees, and then met a few NGOs who helped them change their livelihood plan. They have a pump, a cistern (photo 7), drip irrigation, plastic mulch, and shade covers, and are now one of the wealthiest families in their district. Most recently, CADF took Yat to Banteay Meanchey to see their seed research station and supply store, and after a few months, she saved enough money for public transportation to go back to that region (near the Thai border) and purchase some exotic fruit seeds for specialty buyers.
The third farm, in Puok district, is run by a master farmer named Lorn Savuth (photo 8) and his sister. Savuth grows cucumber (photo 9) and long beans, and his sister grows lettuces (photo 10). All of these crops have a consistently good year-round price, which is why they were chosen – but as a bonus, Savuth and his sister live close to market, so their crops are always freshest (photo 11 of a taste test). They are also competitive because of CADF's plastic mulch, which allows them to spend almost no time weeding. Because of his success, Savuth has influenced about ten farmers in his immediate area to use similar methods.
CADF is funded for the next one and a half years by New Zealand's International Aid and Development Agency. Because their programs are solid, even if CADF receives no more funding for expansion and management, the current farmers will continue to work the same way, and their private sector value chains will still exist. But it would be much better for the country's agriculture if CADF received a grant and could stick around a lot longer (hint).
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