:: One People, Many Cultures ::



::Living Together in Respect and Friendship::

The Australian Prime Minister apologised to indigenous Australians today for all the hardships visited on them by the rest of us. I’m of mixed feelings about this. My own feeling is that an apology offers nothing, especially coming from people who weren’t involved in the key wrongdoings such as Aboriginal hunting in the early nineteenth century and the stolen generation a few decades ago. I’ve said the same about China waiting for an apology from Japan.

Surely actions are more important than words and we seem to have done as much harm as good even in recent times. Rudd made new promises of bringing indigenous Australians’ life expectancy, standard of living and education into line with the rest of us, but is that really the right thing to do and can he manage it anyway? Time will tell.

I was surprised to find that while some Aborigines staged demonstrations in the lead-up to the apology, demanding Rudd to revoke the interventions in the Northern Territory, most seem to have taken the apology to heart and see it as the first real step to resolving our differences. So much that Aboriginal leaders officially welcomed white Australians to this country for the first time in recorded history. And here’s the real surprise. That action – those words – touched me far more than I expected.

If I’m touched by such words, I can understand how Aborigines and other indigenous Australians must be touched by the official apology. Perhaps Japan and China / Korea / Taiwan apologising to each other will have positive effects too.

I’m really enjoying the 15 minute bushwalk I get every morning on the way to the station, but this rain is taking the fun out of it. Three times this week, I’ve sat down on the train and settled in to read a book when my ankle began to itch. Reaching down, each time I found a slimy critter getting ready to take a bite. The looks I get from the other passengers are worse than the horror of finding a blood-sucking slug attaching itself to my flesh.

It’s become a tradition among many young Australians to spend Australia Day chilling out (or going off) with friends at a BBQ with a background of the best songs from the previous year. I jumped on the tradition when I came back to Australia and this year was my second event, but will probably be the last.

My new home is surrounded by bushland, making it a great place to host a BBQ or party and 15 or so friends turned up for what promised to be a great day. But then, at about number 40 in the countdown, the music stopped. One of my friends (I still don’t know who) turned it off so their child could play in the living room. Forget the fact that there was a whole house full of rooms to choose for playing. Forget that they didn’t ask anyone. What I’m really pissed about is that they missed the point of the entire day. And I had to take the few who were interested around to the other side of the house where I’d set up my mini system to hear the rest.

Next year, I’ll have the BBQ the week before and spend Australia Day listening to the music on my own.