More Funeral Fun

Yet another big funeral in town - this time for a young aboriginal bloke who hung himself a couple of weeks ago (people are blaming drugs). Apparently this is normal. So once again we have Wiluna mob in town and all the indigenous people on the grog, with the usual accompaniment of screeching ugly voices, house-wrecking high jinks and all the kids out on the loose escaping from their loving devoted parents. The police have been doing a sterling job keeping things under control; I'm just glad I'm nowhere near Consuls Road at the back of town, which is your basic DMZ.

We have a few non-aboriginal black people living in town; I think one guy is from Somalia, and then there's a couple of others who I see occasionally. The first thing you notice is that unlike the aboriginals, these people walk upright with a normal posture, don't shuffle, and talk in normal voices. Most of the aboriginals seem to walk with a terrible slouch, shuffling along; they have really ugly, screeching voices and I'm sorry, but most of them look like neanderthals; I really believe it's just a very unevolved race, with very few adaptation skills. The aboriginal people who are successful and living in nice homes, working & studying and raising their kids responsibly, all seem to be mixed race.

As I've mentioned, most of the aboriginal people who pass by my place will stop and chat and be perfectly friendly, but there's always that sense of them "not getting it" in so many ways - they admire what I'm doing with my house & garden, and say things like "I wish my place looked like that", but don't seem to be able to make the connection that they could do it too - or at least not smash the crap out of their own houses every other night! It's the epitome of low or totally absent self esteem; they're a stone age nomadic race who have been crushed, wrecked and fractured beyond all hope. It's as if there's just no will to live or something - all the taxpayer money in the country isn't going to change it.

Anyway...I'll have to post some photos of the house progress soon, the front is really starting to look smart. Another week or two of yard improvements, then I will force myself back inside to confront the kitchen and lounge room. I found a really comfortable bamboo chair at the tip, but Boy has taken over it; Smokey has abandoned the fancy chook house for a cardboard box under the work bench, the chooks have decided they like hanging out in the kitchen, and Honey keeps weaselling into the new sleeping bag. At least the office chair is still mine, although I'm sure I'll come home one day and find that Ethel has claimed it.