Corroboree

We decided that evening to catch a corroboree (traditional Aboringinal dance and musical performance) at a resort across the bay that was recommended by the Lonely Planet guide. We stopped at this tiny fish and chip joint to grab "take-away" before catching the ferry.




The ferry ride was short... only about 20 minutes long. The passengers were either tourists heading for the corroboree, or Aborigines heading home. It was a sad truth that most of the Aborigines we saw during the three weeks we were there were either drinking or already drunk, no matter the time of day.




In America the word "resort" conjures up fluffy robes, room service, spa treatments, and so on, but in Australia, the term is used more loosely, and might just mean "has a pool". This turned out to be one of those places, and when the ferry dropped us off at the pier (behind me) there was no signage to let us know where to go. There was a road, and a dirt track that led some distance to a few low buildings of the corrugated metal and concrete block sort I have shown previously. We collectively decided those buildings must be the resort and headed down the path.

We were a little early so we finished up our dinner on the beach. I am eating a Greek salad, our second one in two days. They make 'em hearty down there, with 1 inch cubes of feta, 1/2 inch thick slices of cucumbers, whole olives, and tomatoes cut in quarters. They were always fresh and tasty though; a reliable staple for trip.

While we were on the beach, we witnessed a confrontation up at the resort between a white guy and an Aborigine that was a little alarming. White guy had the Aborigine down on his knees, yelling at him, and eventually walloped him on the side of the head. We figured out eventually that White guy was the owner of the resort, (also the manager of the dance group) and the Aborigine was being chastised for showing up drunk. I guess he encouraged the family and friends of the performers to come and enjoy the show, but they could only come on the property if they were sober. Later, as we headed into the resort, we had a rather surreal conversation with a staggeringly drunk Aboriginal woman who tried to convince me that her name was Michelle too, and that we were sisters.




This is the somewhat atmospheric bar and bistro there at the resort.



At last we get to the performance, which was actually pretty interesting. There were women, men, and children, who all performed different dances, and reenacted, pantomime-style, scenes from daily life, and to accompany them there were musicians playing the digeridoo and clap sticks. This particular dance was a buffalo hunt. Much of what the men did involved stomping hard on the sand, and we could feel the force of it travel through the ground.




There came the inevitable moment for audience participation, and these two gave it a good go.




We had the opportunity to meet the dancers afterward, who were all very happy and friendly, and take pictures. I like the guy next to Darrin giving the big thumbs-up.