\u201cToo often in Australia we talk about this Indigenous problem or that Indigenous problem,\u201d says author Richard Flanagan. \u201cWe never talk about the Indigenous gift, the great gift of knowledge, of understanding.\u201d<\/p>\n\n
This gift softly, subtly and slowly unfolds as you walk into Gulkula festival ground because the Yolngu nation is one of the most dynamic of all of Australia\u2019s original storytellers.<\/p>\n\n
\u201cWhen you come here, it\u2019s still alive \u2013 very much alive,\u201d says long-time Garma ambassador Jack Thompson, fresh from leading his morning tai chi class.<\/p>\n
![\"Garma](\"https:\/\/s1.at.atcdn.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/03\/GARMA19_ELISEHASSEY_0696.jpg\")
Garma Ambassador Jack Thompson. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
Late last night he recited bush poetry by the campfire. \u201cYou are surrounded by people speaking their language, doing their ceremony. The whole country must have been like this. That\u2019s why Garma recharges my batteries.\u201d<\/p>\n
![\"Jack](\"https:\/\/s1.at.atcdn.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/03\/GARMA19_ELISEHASSEY_0683.jpg\")
Jack Thompon reads bush poetry. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
Why is it that so few of us have sat down in the red dirt of North East Arnhem Land, home to the robust Yolngu nation, and arguably the most significant cultural event in Australia?<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n
Some might say it\u2019s disingenuous to introduce an Indigenous festival through the voices of (albeit compassionate) white Australians. But unlike generations before them, they are not trying to \u2018white mansplain\u2019 Indigenous culture. They are simply imploring you to listen to the stories of Yolngu because doing so has incalculably changed their lives for the better.<\/p>\n
The Welcome<\/h3>\n
You can leave your passport in the shoebox under the bed, but in countless other ways North East Arnhem Land feels like a sovereign entity. Aided by relative isolation from Australia\u2019s all-consuming metropolises, the Yolngu\u2019s 50-millennia-old manikay <\/em>(song) and miny\u2019tji <\/em>(art) exude poise and confidence: an unwavering cultural backbone that launched far-reaching land- and sea-rights movements.<\/p>\n
Djali Ganambarr dances the stories of the Yolngu.(Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
\u201cWe have maintained, protected and enhanced our world view since the first outsiders appeared in the 1930s and tried to kill us and take our land,\u201d says traditional owner Dr Galarrwuy Yunupingu, senior leader of the Gumatj clan. \u201cHear our words, watch our ceremonies, place your feet in the sand with us and enjoy our hospitality. We will exchange ideas, make friendships, learn from each other. Go feed your brain!\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr Galarrwuy Yunupingu, senior leader of the Gumatj clan. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
Garma\u2019s opening ceremony is as inclusive as any you will see on this continent: dark faces, darker faces, Islander faces, and white faces beading under hats and sunscreen, perch together on plastic chairs facing unfettered monsoon forest. Tieless, unbuttoned politicians squirm uneasily, aware that people on the Dhupuma Plateau won\u2019t stomach any vacuous, business-as-usual rhetoric.<\/p>\n
The official opening of the Garma commences with the arrival of the Gumatj clan. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
Bilma <\/em>(clap sticks) pulse from the bush. Heads swivel, eyes chase the sound. Generations of Gumatj clan men stealth from the trees like wary sentinels, ceremonially led by the Minister for Indigenous Australians, Ken Wyatt, draped in a ritual roo pelt. Intense yellow and red paint covers their torsos like divine armour. Eyes fall on a bubble-cheeked youngster at their feet, at one with their totems in dance, while stringybarks sough mystically.<\/p>\n
Joevhan Burarrwanga, the next generation of the Yolngu. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
At the lectern, ubiquitous Jack\u2019s speech is received well as always. Long ago, he was brought into the Yolngu fold. They call him Gulkula now, after this sacred place. Even the magpie geese hush when Dr Yunupingu informs the gathered that he will throw Australia\u2019s constitution into the nearby Arafura Sea if his people are not recognised in the document. And with that, Garma is officially open.<\/p>\n
Ken Wyatt AM, MP, Minister for Indigenous Australians, is led into the opening ceremony by senior Gumatj clan men. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
The Voice<\/h3>\n
Eloquent, tough-talking hard-act-to-follow follows eloquent, tough-talking hard-act-to-follow at Garma\u2019s Key Forum. Speech roams free, discussions dive unapologetically deep into the irrefutable inequities between white and black Australians, from educational outcome disparities to reprehensible gulfs in life expectancy.<\/p>\n
The next generation talks about the future in Garma\u2019s Youth Forum. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
This is not the place for either trolls or \u2018poor us\u2019 navel gazing with some of Australia\u2019s deadliest minds on hand to fact check ignorance and fly-kick generalisations. Professor Marcia Langton pays homage to the profound Indigenous knowledge systems taught to her by Yolngu elders that will be invaluable in the nation\u2019s curriculum. Noel Pearson sermons his trademark intricate metaphors, championing \u201cradical hope\u201d and \u201cunfounded opposition\u201d.<\/p>\n\n
The word Makarrata <\/em>(a Yolngu word that synthesises treaty, peace-making and justice) flows from the mouths of key speakers naturally, then ripples organically into the festival lexicon. The Uluru Statement from the Heart, that poetic path forward for Indigenous constitutional recognition, binds disparate subjects together into a singular hope-filled trajectory.<\/p>\n\n
You can leave your passport in the shoebox under the bed, but in countless other ways North East Arnhem Land feels like a sovereign entity.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n
Restless minds rumble as loudly as their hosts\u2019 bellies in the notoriously long communal lunch buffet queue. Apart from being a killer spot for celeb-spotting, the sluggish, snaking line is dotted with impromptu mini-forums where well-qualified strangers debate serious stuff with smiles on their faces. One old fella tells me that Uluru shouldn\u2019t be closed to those who approach it with an open heart. Not a popular idea here, but the people listen to such diverse thoughts without \u2018cancelling\u2019 him \u2013 then counter with a learned rebuttal.<\/p>\n
Djalinda Yunupingu dancing at Garma. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
The Heart<\/h3>\n
Back in 1999, Garma began more or less as a \u2018backyard barbecue\u2019. If you ignore the relative formalities of the Key Forum, it is still very much a bush festival for and by the local community as it is a platform for parachuting powerbrokers. Expect peak-time shower queues, sporadic power outages rescued by snarling generators, and a long wait at the merch stall, which is denuded voraciously (unless you\u2019re XXXL).<\/p>\n\n
The Bunggul is Garma\u2019s geographical and metaphorical thumping heart, a sandy circle where the sacred becomes normal, and the normal sacred. A place to hang out, connect and reflect. The Gumatj spiritedly welcome other clans to perform (and visitors to join in) on their hallowed ground.<\/p>\n\n
\u201cI just called the people from the Gulf [Groote Eylandt] again \u2013 they\u2019ll be right over,\u201d explains the MC, shrill speaker feedback sending community canines into tornadoes. A fourth hurry-up draws a posse of vivid red and white across the oval. Traditional dress is accessorised with sunnies, trucker caps and t-shirts with off-country allegiances.<\/p>\n
The Groote Eylandt mob takes to the Bunggul. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
A string of stage-front yidaki <\/em>(didgeridoo) players sparks the Morning Star dance to life. Clap sticks crack an enduring atavistic heartbeat. Two aunties in tropical-strength dresses that are stories in themselves sway on the outer edges, bare feet rooted into the sand, while the men dance their stories. The MC tries to decode the hyper-dynamic action for the thousands of out-of-towners.<\/p>\n
Gumatj women dancing. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
The Gumatj dancers hover in next, branches and water bottles in hand; smokes in the mouths of a couple. The women\u2019s yellow skirts with sharp red flames licking high are a sartorial highlight. The energetic \u2018quest for the sugarbag honey\u2019 explodes; fast feet slice through and spray sand. Meanwhile, a joyful woman on the Bunggul\u2019s grassy periphery pulls mad doughnuts in her motorised wheelchair.<\/p>\n
Ladies at Garma\u2019s opening ceremony. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
The Wisdom<\/h3>\n
\u201cThe cycle of a day can be very different when experienced through the Garma lens,\u201d says event director Denise Bowden. \u201cYou are on Yolngu land, living with Yolngu people, under the authority of Yolngu elders.\u201d<\/p>\n\n
Yes, understanding Arnhem Land\u2019s cultural nuances can be a challenge, but the Yolngu struggle to comprehend outsider culture equally. Today and for much of his life, Djalu Gurruwiwi has sought to bridge the new and the old worlds, at least for those willing to cast aside their Western World lens (and baggage).<\/p>\n\n
The sage elder sits in a shady camp chair, a mop of a dog curled at his feet. His storm of grey hair, blue iridium sunglasses, striped polo shirt and black Skechers strip 40 years off the 89 year old. Thought bubbles sporadically burst from his mouth in Yolngu Matha (Arnhem Land\u2019s lingua franca) through a dinky PA system that is more trouble than it\u2019s worth. His hands swoop like hunting falcons to illustrate what his ancestors have passed on.<\/p>\n
From learning Yolngu Matha (Arnhem Land\u2019s lingua franca) to decorating yidakis, there is plenty of culture to absorb at Garma. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
Djalu believes that the sound of his yidaki <\/em>has the power to heal, that it transcends cultures and can connect all people to this earth. His daughter Zelda Gurruwiwi translates into English. She eagerly injects her own experience and self into the narrative.<\/p>\n\n
\u201cWhen I was a little girl, the ancestors, old tribal people, used to bring their cultural sacred therapy to ceremonies,\u201d she says. \u201cThese days, it\u2019s a bit lacking. That\u2019s why my dad stands here \u2013 bringing people to one unity, one nation.<\/p>\n\n
\u201cThis yidaki <\/em>is bringing culture and people together, leading to a doorway to our culture, our ceremonial ground. People in the Western World, it\u2019s time for you to come into the spiritual world. Some people call me crazy. I am not crazy. They are crazy. They are not looking at the gateway to nature. My dad, he\u2019s the last knowledge. Old people will take that knowledge back to the ground.\u201d<\/p>\n\n
Djalu blows into the trunk. The soft, profound timbre immediately usurps the festival\u2019s clamour. Jack Thompson wanders by, plops himself in a camp chair opposite. Djalu offers him the yidaki<\/em>\u2019s end. Jack delicately shuts his eyes, receives the vibrations willingly.<\/p>\n
The Family<\/h3>\n
\u201cSee all the people here; we\u2019re all related,\u201d says Brenda \u2018Mutha\u2019Muthamuluwuy, gesturing at the various clans camping in the bush. She seeks signs of understanding from those congregated under the bough shelter, rewards us with earnest smiles and a motherly \u201cmanymak\u201d <\/em>(good) before moving on. She knows that the Yolngu kinship system is a foreign matrix to those from nuclear families.<\/p>\n
A young Garma-goer gets into the spirit. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
\u201cIn your world, you are related only in immediate family, right?\u201d she asks. \u201cWell, ours is different, it goes down and it spreads. For example, my mother\u2019s sister\u2019s children are also my brothers and sisters from another mother. We can still call each other sister even if we have different parents. Some of our grandkids\u2019 children can also be sister and brother.\u201d<\/p>\n\n
She references a photocopied schema of the gurrutu<\/em>, which shows a multi-directional cascade outward from \u2018you\u2019, featuring 23 relationship titles. She introduces the concepts of \u2018skin names\u2019 and the two \u2018moieties\u2019, dhuwa <\/em>and yirritjia <\/em>(each Yolngu must marry into the opposite moiety). Then comes Mutha\u2019s mic-drop moment.<\/p>\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s not just a person either,\u201d she says. \u201cThe land, sea and nature \u2013 trees, birds, snakes, fish \u2013 are related to us in kinship, too. The whale is my grandmother\u2019s totem, so I am related as a granddaughter to the whale in Dreaming.\u201d<\/p>\n
The Expression<\/h3>\n
Northern Australia\u2019s darkest night cannot stop the miny\u2019tji <\/em>(art). By torchlight, at 10.30pm, second-year art student Dylan Mooney dabs his final touches to a portrait for the \u2018Great Wall of Garma\u2019 (aka Art Build). The day before, Archibald Prize-winning artist Ben Quilty tentatively swiped a final stroke on his contribution to the communal mural.<\/p>\n
Art student Dylan Mooney paints on the \u2018Great Wall of Garma\u2019. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
Artists and visitors alike can contribute to the Great Wall of Garma. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
\u201c[Being up here] is the biggest imposter syndrome that I\u2019ve ever felt,\u201d says Ben. \u201c[I\u2019ve] had the honour of meeting some of my greatestidols, like Ai Weiwei, but the best painters in the world are living in Australia\u2019s remote communities. I don\u2019t say that lightly.\u201d<\/p>\n\n
Behind the mural, down a bush avenue, single paintings hang from Gapan Gallery\u2019s lofty gums. Stalls stocking stunning \u2018fibre art\u2019 from community art centres such as Bula\u2019bula at Ramingining, 400 kilometres west, encircle the open-air cultural microcosm.<\/p>\n
Fibre art on sale from the Yolngu women master-weavers at Garma. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
Intricate, naturally dyed pandanus leaf baskets, mats and dilly bags from Arnhem Land\u2019s women master-weavers are in high demand. The more experienced aunties\u2019 masterpieces justifiably command top dollar. They take lifetimes of skill and time.<\/p>\n\n
One of Muluymuluy Wirrpanda\u2019s dense black, white and grey linocuts hangs from a whitewashed display tree. It is a privileged close-up of Yolngu existence, both the story of a day in her life and of the culture that has nourished her. She describes the piece sparingly, through an interpreter, a few words of English mixed in, as if the \u2018bulwatja<\/em>\u2019 story is self-evident. How long did it take?<\/p>\n\n
\u201cNot too long, just doing the outline mainly,\u201d she says. Our eyes never meet. \u201cThe bulwatja <\/em>is a billabong plant. When we went hunting, we\u2019d always get bush food, too. I get to eat it and make art from it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Muluymuluy Wirrpanda
in front of her artwork at the Gapan Gallery. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\nTraditional or modern style, I ask? She doesn\u2019t answer. Probably because it is neither and both. It just is and has always been so.<\/p>\n
The Exhale<\/h3>\n
Final-day Garma is a wholly different animal to its frenetic first few days. Politicians have returned to their far-away constituencies; corporate-sponsor bigwigs have fled back for their high-rise Monday-morning meetings. Those who remain magnetically contract into the Bunggul.<\/p>\n\n
Lithe-legged kids kick footies back and forth with grinning cops and giggling ambulance officers. The dancing rolls on unstoppably: less formal, more freestyle, the line between crowd and performers hazy. \u201cCopy what everyone else is doing or just do your own thing,\u201d says the MC. Thongs on thighs make for modern pliable clap sticks. Each song is full-stopped with a booming, community-wide \u201cYo! <\/em>\u201d (yes).\u2019<\/p>\n\n
Dan Sultan summons a storm on stage; he admits he\u2019s been nervous performing at his first Garma, then shares a few private demons. \u201cAll the way from Stone Country\u201d Black Rock Band and Southeast Desert Metal momentarily spike people out of their descent into end-of-festival chill. The choral notes of all-female Spinifex Gum\u2019s Dream <\/em>Baby Dream <\/em>cover draw people to their weary feet for one last time in the darkness.<\/p>\n
Watching a band in the Bunggul on the final day, when all the visitors join in and everyone relaxes. (Credit: Elise Hassey)<\/p><\/div>\n
One by one, clan flags are lowered. \u201cYou can stay if you want or you can go,\u201d croaks the MC. \u201cI just hope you\u2019ve spread the good karma at Garma.\u201d<\/p>\n\n
The doors of 2650 guest tents flap empty in the dry-season morning breeze. Tomorrow the snakes and water buffalo that volunteers shooed away will slither and clomp back to claim their piece of Gulkula until next year.<\/p>\n\n
Physically spent but spiritually stirred first-timers reluctantly cram into airport-bound mini-buses. Minds whirl with cultural epiphanies and inequities reimagined. They are like human message sticks, keen to spread what they\u2019ve heard, seen and felt.<\/p>\n\n
\u201cEvery Australian should come; every Australian schoolchild should have it as part of their curriculum,\u201d says Jack Thompson. \u201cOtherwise, for many, your only experience of Aboriginal people is as the fringe-dwellers; people in the cities disinherited from their culture.\u201d<\/p>\n\n
Generations of misinformation and ignorance don\u2019t stand a chance when you come face to face with the people of this strong, alive country at this great Indigenous festival. Sorry, make that at this great Australian <\/em>festival.<\/p>\n
A traveller\u2019s checklist<\/h2>\n
After being cancelled in 2020 due to the COVID-19 pandemic, the annual Garma festival, run by the Yothu Yindi Foundation,<\/a> is due to take place this year from 30 July to 2 August.<\/p>\n
Getting there<\/h3>\n
Airnorth<\/a>\u00a0and Qantas<\/a> have flights to Nhulunbuy; transfers from Gove Airport to the festival site are included in the ticket price.<\/p>\n
Staying there<\/h3>\n
The ticket to Garma includes camping accommodation in an assembled tent with sleeping bag and air mattress, all meals, and basic tea and coffee facilities.<\/p>\n
Exploring there<\/h3>\n
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