I found my friend!!! I gave him the football jumper and also caught up with a few other fellas who I had met during my last encounter in Broome. This was a very surreal experience, and one that I will remember for many years to come.
The process of finding where he lived will be perhaps just as memorable as giving him the jumper itself. I had a street name to follow up today after meeting a local Aboriginal women yesterday. The women approached me at the front of the shopping mall and asked me for a dollar. The exact wording was, in pidgin English "ay there, you gotta dollar?". I responded that I didn't but offered her some bread. She sat with me at the front of the mall, and we shared some bread with peanut butter on it. This was yet another unexpected moment that I felt perfectly comfortable with. I used the wooden taste tester stick I collected from Wendys to spread the peanut butter on the bread for the lady. It is in moments such as these that generate the most deepest feeling of human interaction and connection, a feeling that is very difficult to describe. A complete stranger is willing to share a peanut butter sandwich having no hesitation or reluctance to interact with another human being - all in the most unconventional manner. I wrote about my interaction a week or so ago with a mainstream non-Indigenous couple that wouldn't let me within a few metres of their van. They believed I was too dirty from being out on the bike for so long, which is not something I'd contest but the behaviour itself was something I find questionable. The most singular contrast of these two situations is the capability of one person, or culture for that matter, to value and identify any member of society as equal and no different to any other person regardless of appearance, clothing, class or even racially. In all my experiences human nature seems to be more prevalent in cultures with minimal mainstream influence, perhaps resulting from the idea of want, need and greed that's so heavily advertised.
Following my sandwich with the Aboriginal women I saw Sam, the man riding a unicycle for breast cancer science research. I had sent a few emails off to this man in the last week, as I had been informed from a few friends that this guy would in Broome during the same time as my self. I never received any response. A friend of mine also tried to get in contact with him, with no prevail. I thought perhaps he was to busy to see my emails or messages. The thing that contradicted this belief though, was having seen irrelevant social media posts via his facebook page making me well aware that he had opportunities to see my messages. Despite not hearing anything back, I took this opportunity to approach him at the shops. The reason I wanted to have contact with him was so I could help promote my own bike ride, as he has over 25,000 followers in his social media sites. I had little to offer in return, having a measly 300 in comparison.
As I approached Sam I could not believe the feeling of intimidation he had given off. I would describe it as an impression of deep concern, something you would imagine from a timid school child confronted by a high school bully. I realised he had previously walked past me, whilst I was sitting with the Aboriginal women eating the bread with peanut butter. I also thought that perhaps the women may of asked him for a dollar. As I went up to say hello the Aboriginal woman was alongside me. I believe this definitely contributed to his standoffish behaviour, along with me looking like I've slept in the bush for the past week (which I had).
I explained what I was doing and how I'd love to team up for a few photos in the hope to help promote the two rides. I knew I had little to offer in promotion for his cause, but the way in which I spoke and interacted with him would surely of been something admirable. I explained where I've been, my timing to get there and everything else about my trip. I had the feeling he took very little of this information in. The only response I received was that "I've already organised to meet up with you tomorrow mate". I thought, has he? Have I not received these emails? Or the messages? As he was somewhat wimpish and keeping quite distant, he seemed very relieved when the moment was interrupted from a member of his support crew. They pulled up in a fully signed van opening the door for him (like a famous actor off the red carpet) and also for his other friend he was with, who I also assume was part of the support crew. Before the van drove off a man from the Wendy's shop came running out with a bag full of hotdogs and other treats. He exclaimed "Sam, Sam take these for the road, a gift from us!!". Sam took the bag and drove off. I felt this moment had just happened for some type of deeper reason, a message from someone or something. I looked at the van drive off, I then looked at the Aboriginal women eating my bread and then looking at my bike. I explained in Wendy's that I was cycling for a good cause, yet they almost charged me for a taste tester stick to spread the peanut butter. This was also on my mind. It was a clear train of thought, which is a lot more difficult to make clear through text. I am sure for those reading this a few thoughts could be generated as to what I was thinking.
After this I checked all my emails and messages to realise I hadn't heard anything from Sam or his support crew. I decided to leave this train of thought and continued my conversation with the Aboriginal women in the hope to find my friend.
The women claimed to have lived on the same street as him. Her accent was very heavy so was hard for me to understand. It also didn't help that the street name was rather different. The street was "Portabello". As I couldn't really understand this from the women I looked at the map of Broome for anything sounding familiar.
I managed to find it on the map this morning so rode my bike around and luckily found his house from memory. The ride there was a serious eye opener. For any person to claim Australia doesn't have inequality I would strongly recommend them to come here. I do question the means of this inequality, as I certainly believe there's more then enough opportunities for the Aboriginal community to live in better conditions. All the housing is covered in tagging, the whole streets covered in broken glass, broken chairs on the street, over grown weeds, holes in house walls. It was very intimidating cycling through this street, as at the front of each house were at least half a dozen jet black Aboriginal people staring down at me. I could imagine what they were thinking of some white guy coming through on a descent push bike.
It was hard to recognise the house with all the junk and weeds at the front of the properties. I didn't want to tip toe around the houses as I'd imagine the people around wouldn't have warmed to it. I decided to knock on the door of the house I thought it was. It was empty and looked like no one was in. Out of nowhere a women appeared behind the window. This nearly gave me a heart attack. She directed me a few houses down so I took off again.
At the front of my friends house were a group of Aboriginal people sitting down. I rode my bike into the driveway as they all stared me down. I said "G'day fellas, Eric Hunter around?". They said "Hey brother, yeah he's inside". I realised one of the men were uncle Rich, one of the law men who carried out the trek I did a few years ago. The others were all cousins and other relatives of each other. Eric came out in great surprise. I could tell he was very shocked to see me and also very pleased. He said "Hey Jamie! How ya going". I have to note that the English here is also difficult to understand so I always had to try hard to listen.
I told him where I'd been and how I had travelled into Broome. I told him how I was still over the moon with my necklace and I hadn't forgot about him. I grabbed the football jumper and handed it over. He was really in great shock. The jumper was brand new and still perfectly clean. I wandered how long it will stay like this, as I realised everyone else were wearing old and worn clothing. He read the message I wrote on the back and it seemed he was still trying to come to grips with the situation. His mother was also in the house and he went up to show the jumper off. Eric is in his late 30's and has battled much of his later years in alcohol rehab. One of the main reasons I wanted to give the jumper was to encourage him to keep going with the trail walks and also pursue activities such as wood carvings. He is a clever man yet seems that he might not be aware of his own capabilities. I always said to him, and continued today, that he's got a talent with paintings and also carvings.
After our initial contact we all sat down together at the front. Throughout the day a number of stragglers made there way into the driveway. This was awkward for me as with the culture here you are not introduced, you have to gradually introduce your self via your own interactions. At one point there may have been about 15 of us sitting down. On the other side of the road was another house doing the exact same. A few other houses in the street also were doing this. I had even noticed this in Karratha in an Aboriginal neighbourhoods I cycled last, very common for many to sit at the front of the house.
Half of the people at Eric's were trying to be dry (alcohol free), while a few others were getting into the beers. Eric explained he got out of rehab a few days ago, and was finding it difficult to avoid the drink now. A number of people repeatedly said to each other "would love a beer". A few others claimed "what a boring day". The understanding of Aboriginal communities fighting alcohol abuse became clearer and clearer throughout the day. This was made even harder for Eric and his friends as the house on the other side were drinking and creating a fair bit of attention. They had music playing, Eric informed me they were having a party. I asked what for and there seemed to be no apparent reason. I realised this was a Tuesday, not a public holiday and it was 13:00 in the middle of the day. I wandered how these people had money to even survive, making me want to investigate centrelink payment system even more. Despite the alcohol issues and over emphasis on eating McDonald's, the culture was great to be around.
After a while I decided it was time to move on. I asked the guys what they would be up to on the weekend, only to realise the weekend would be irrelevant to them. They told me they would take me out fishing for turtle and dugong. The offer sounds tempting, although I don't know if I could bring my self to do it!!
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