Saturday night in Todd Mall Alice Springs

Right, that bit's done, set the blog up. Now to start writing...

Um, well here we are in Mpwarntwe, March 2009. Last time I checked, this was still Arrernte country, however, we are in a colonial upsurge right now. We've had the intervention (still intervening), the rise of a new tier of government in the form of shire councils, and the tsunami of educational reforms, ie 4 hours of English a day, swirling in the wake of the rollout of Accelerated Literacy, Scaffolding English and the various other packages with various other names. Add to that the new Youth Strategy, which sees a police truck bus parked in the Todd Street Mall at night, while the youth centre is renovated on weekends by volunteers.

A story to share from last night: Dinner with two friends, both linguinis (ie members of the local linguist friendship network) at the Red Ochre, in full view of the afore-mentioned uber-paddy van. Walking down the Todd Street Mall at about 9pm, a fairly quiet Saturday night. Stepping aside as the private security patrol trawls past and then bewildered, a bit freaked, by the onward rush of a group of young men, out of towners perhaps? maybe, but fairly tanked and happy to hip and shoulder one of our party, laughing and staggering away at a clip. This they've done after an encounter with an Alice Springs local, who's picked up a flimsy stick and a bottle and is shouting after them. The security guys are on the scene, and then so are we within a few steps as one of them (I think he's seen too many episodes of those cop shows where everyone shoots each other) - is saying 'put DOWN the stick', with his truncheon drawn. My god, she's like 150 cm tall and well into at least the 5th decade of a pretty hard life. So we stop and position ourselves there, between her and the truncheon, and she says, between sobs, those men swore at me, they have no culture, they don't know who I am. She points to the ground, saying, me, I'm Arrernte, I'm from here, I belong to this country. They've got nothing.

We listened and we said yes, you're right, they know nothing, they're just being rude, silly, stupid. She sobbed and spoke some more, and I rubbed her shoulder. She said thanks, and she walked away quickly, down the mall. The security guy caught my eye, looked away, and he and his mate got back in their car. We went home too.

Oh god this town, this dirty old town. There's so much going on here, so much to try and understand. Every day a comment, a caption, a letter in the paper, a press release confuses and confounds me, yet commands my attention. I'm interested in situations and encounters that involve mis-communication and fear, and the way we negotiate and express our messages through them. Language is right in this mix - it's the arena where these encounters are played out.

I'm hoping that this blog will help me to reflect on and share some of the impressions I have of life and the part that language plays in it in the streets, workplaces and homes of Alice Springs, and the parts of the bush that I'm lucky enough to visit regularly. Till next time, kel.