4. Desarrollo de la aplicación móvil
4.7. Funcionalidades
How do kigay see themselves in comparison to whitefellas and more generally da atsaida? I have already noted that they tend to embrace the image of themselves as destructive and rebellious, and they are additionally aware that people in da atsaida see them in this way. There was a notorious incident in 2007, when video footage of a riot that was shot in the town, and later made it onto national
television and the internet. In relation to this one kigay explains:
Wurda-‐warda mange pana piyemum ku ngalla-‐ngalla-‐yu. Da Sitni, Melbun pawathu pibimkawuk, pibimdjewup-‐pibim tju vailens-‐yu … Da-‐ka Purtkits-‐
yu da-‐ka Rambo City-‐wa pumamna-‐yu. Da mangini atsaida anaka da mangini violence-‐imini pumemdha-‐panam, da atsaida pana-‐ya Efrika da mangini ini-‐ya.
The government said we shouldn’t act like this. Down there in Sydney and Melbourne they hear about the violence … They call Port Keats “Rambo City”. It’s like those violent places overseas, like Africa or something.
(JL, 2013-‐06-‐22)
Through comparison to whitefellas, and through imagining themselves in whitefellas’ eyes, kigay come to view themselves as kardu tjipmam (PERSON + black) “Aboriginal”. They express some positive views about Aboriginal people, noting for example their sharing of food and tobacco, their right to their own country, and sometimes point out to me proudly certain Aboriginal physical dispositions, such as sitting on the ground rather than chairs, or walking barefoot.
But kigay also sometimes express an exasperated view of Aboriginal people, criticizing their own people for humbugging, fighting and not working. These critiques are often “broadcast” in public to no one in particular (Walsh, 1990), and Facebook offers a new medium for such broadcasts. Figure 3.8.1 illustrates one such broadcast, though this is by a middle-‐aged woman rather than a kigay.
Figure 3.8.1 A public “broadcast” unfavourably comparing Aboriginal and whitefella attitudes to private property (Facebook feed, 17/02/2014)
Kigay subculture 82
But there is also a less clearly articulated discourse, apparent in certain stories and statements, which puts Aboriginal people on the wrong side of a moral, cosmological divide.
There are reports elsewhere of Aboriginal spirituality being seen in opposition to Christian redemption. Austin Broos (2009, p. 98) reports that for some Arrernte, the interpretation of Christianity includes the concept that tywerrenge
“Aboriginal sacred objects”, (elsewhere “churinga”) are wicked and un-‐Christian. “Bloody heathen” is a common insult between one Arrernte person and another. In Wadeye, there is a quite pervasive conceptual opposition between Aboriginal sorcery practices and Christianity. Sorcery is mostly associated with old men, and with bush life before the Mission (cf. McKnight, 2005), while the saving force of Christianity was brought to the community by the Mission founder Father Richard Docherty. Docherty’s redemptive power also saved the people from ku kanamkek “the Rainbow Serpent”, who may also be referred to as ku pangkuy ku warratj “the devil-‐snake” (Notes, 2013-‐01). This may be a somewhat scandalous epithet, since kanamkek is at the same time quite central to MP creation stories, ritual and story-‐telling. Right across northern Australia the Rainbow Serpent is both powerful and dangerous (Elkin, 1930; Merlan, 1998), but it is perhaps only through the cosmological syncretism with missionary Christianity that (s)he can come to be associated with evil, requiring some counterbalancing force of
goodness and redemption.
One contemporary story tells of how kanamkek caused massive flooding and destruction at Daly River and other places, but Wadeye was spared thanks to the blessing of yile ngala “the Great Father” Docherty. It is also said that kanamkek dwells under the ruins of the old Wadeye Club (once the site of much drunken disorder), whence he lures kigay into solvent and petrol abuse: temteishen mampurra “he tempts them” (Notes, 2013-‐01). In another recent local song, the singer calls upon Saint Mark to save the kigay, who are afflicted with ngepan wiye “bad spirits” (Notes, 2013-‐11).
In these oppositions, traditional Aboriginal supernatural forces are dark powers, while the spiritual forces brought by Christianity offer redemption. This is
somewhat reminiscent of the situation reported by Kulick (1992, pp. 59, 160) among the Taiap people of Papua New Guinea, who have assimilated missionary ideology to view themselves as far removed from God, who lives in Belgium. They aspire to speak “English” (actually Tok Pisin) and for their skin to become white so that they may achieve modernity and become close to God. The
racialised aspect of the discourse is not so explicit in Wadeye cosmology, though the damnation/redemption opposition has been described to me in terms of “black angels” versus “good angels” (Notes, 2011-‐08).
Though sorcery is the business of old men, kigay also align themselves with the devil when they embrace heavy metal symbols. Heavy metal music is widely recognized as being associated with ku karratj “the devil”, and it is also occasionally linked explicitly to black magic. For example, a middle-‐aged man was said to be lying very sick in his house, cursed and perhaps dying. He was fixated on a poster of the metal band Manowar (ku spidi of his sons) that was hanging on his wall. He could not stop looking at this poster, which was causing the sickness inside him, though all the while he was calling out for help to kangkarlmawu “he who dwells above, God” (Notes, 2013-‐11).