at his commitment to family, he laughed and thought we
were crazing riding motorbikes all the way from Mel-
bourne. He knew the southern capital was a long way
but had never been, his knowledge came from Australian
Rules football. The sport is a sort of god in this part of the
world. The Tiwi Islands have provided so many champion
footballers.
Sport. A fact not lost on the locals and community of
Wurrumiyanga, where a small museum proudly tells of
the sporting history of the people of Bathurst and Melvin
Islands; the Tiwi Islands.
Our friends all rejoiced in the stories of locals who
had headed south to play football. Each and every one
of them was related in some way to at least one champi-
on. Impressive, but what must it be like to leave a small,
beautiful, proud paradise for the hustle and impersonal
vastness of a city like Melbourne?
We returned to the craftsmen and learned that Tiwi art,
although regarded as indigenous Australian, was vastly
different. Rich colours tell stories of family, location and
history through designs that can’t be explained in words.
Stunning representations of sea turtles symbolised our
friends’ people as a part of the Mantiyupwi Clan. It was
the greatest honour to hear such stories.
Everything within the community of Wurrumiyanga is
adorned with the beautiful designs; street signs, house
fronts, the cemetery. All tell a story through art.
“How did you find us?”, our friend asked.
I nodded in the direction of the man on the bicycle.
Our friend laughed.
“Of course,” he laughed again.
“He’s an elder. Very proud of where we are, who we are,
what we are.”
I understood. Why wouldn’t you be proud?
“He should also work for the Wurrumiyanga tourist
board,” another man laughed. I looked over and bicycle
man was also laughing, he narrowly caught the cigarette
that dropped from his mouth. We all laughed.
I asked how the hierarchy worked within the commu-
nity, our friend, who we learnt was into his 40’s, although
he wasn’t entirely sure of his exact age, explained that it’s
a sort of cycle; the elders teach those ‘below’ them, who
teach the younger below, who teach the youngest … and
so it begins again.
The men of this group were all learning, every day, ev-
ery waking moment, from the elders. Life lessons, social
rights, political wrongs. They were always learning. Un-
like our society, these men, despite age or standing, were
proud to be able to learn from the elders. If it was ex-
plained they’d made a mistake, they listened, adjusted,
and started again.
It seemed like the perfect way for a society to exist.
They were encouraged to question yet all respected what
they were learning; young, old, men, women, all con-
stantly learning, all constantly happy.
We left later that day, both much richer for the expe-
rience of meeting such extraordinary ‘ordinary’ people.
We’d both learnt so much; about Wurrumiyanga, about
Bathurst Island, about the Tiwi Islands, about the Man-
tiyupwi people, about ourselves. We also felt, without
realising at the time, that we too had been teachers. We
were a part of the cycle … LW
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