Canberra Info

Canberra

'Hey, smelling good!'
I sighed hard and tried not to notice the flies buzzing round by backpack. During the night the aftershave from the broken bottle had not only soaked into my clothes but into the very fabric of my backpack itself. There was no way I was ever going to get the smell out now. But the smell wasn't the only problem -- I was getting the piss ripped out of me by everyone on the entire farm: 'Overdoing it a bit with the old eau de cologne there aren't you, mate?'
'So - expecting some action with the ladies tonight?'
'You know something, mate? I didn't even know you could buy homosexual backpacks.'
I shrugged the remarks off with a flick of my wrist and got on board the bus. We were going to Australia's capital city today -- Canberra. I'd heard a lot of bad reports about Canberra; things like it was such a tedious city that even the local homeless people couldn't find an interesting wall to piss against. Once, on a stag weekend in Aviemore in Scotland, one of my friends had tried to chat up an Australian girl by pretending that he was Australian too. She seemed interested -- and even believed his fake Aussie accent; then she asked where he was from. Wanting to continue the illusion, he blurted out 'Canberra'. The girl vanished quicker than a ten-dollar note in Vegas. It was all Walter Burley Griffin's fault I guess. When it was decided to manufacture Australia’s capital city half way between Melbourne and Sydney, in a small plot of land dug out of New South Wales and renamed the Australian Capital Territory, a world wide competition was announced inviting architects, draftsmen, planners, every man & his dog to have a go at designing it.
From the literally several decent efforts they received, a design by an American called Walter Burley Griffin was chosen to be the new capital city. It promised lavish tree-lined roads, ringing a central lake where people could pass the time of day in the sun, happy that the affairs of the nation were being conducted with grace in the Parliament building overlooking the city.
From the spokes leading off the lake, Embassies of the world's foreign nations could gaze with envious eyes at the beauty and splendour of the city, humble that their own capital could never be a match for the Australian one. It was the stuff of dreams for Australia, and Walter Burley Griffin's plans reflected that dream to a 'T'.
Unfortunately for them, their dream turned out to be little short of a nightmare: although the basic design of Griffin's original plans remained, most of their details were largely abandoned shortly after construction started, so that the finished piece bore little resemblance to the city of dreams he'd initially proposed. And there was also one major problem with the city that seems so obvious now, yet no one thought of at the time - this was going to be a city full of politicians and made for politicians. Of course it was going to be dull! Then again it was one of the few cities in Australia that had legalised cannabis and prostitution, so it couldn't be all that bad.
We were due to be arriving in Canberra late in the afternoon, but first there was the Snowy River National Park to check out. There is little remaining of the Snowy River described in Banjo Patterson's legendary work. Roughly 95% of the river has drained away or been blocked off as a direct result of urbanisation, so that what remains is little more than a trickle. The surrounding hills stretch for miles and fade into a purple haze on the horizon, but the river that runs through it now seems sad and lonely compared to its previous majesty, like a once powerful man reduced to a crippled stagger by some deadly wasting disease. None of us travellers really knew any better, but the driver looked on with sad eyes.
We found a spot down by the river near Jindabyne and stopped for lunch. Sat on rocky outcrops, eating our sandwiches, the riverbed could clearly be seen through the few inches of water. No one said much as fish floundered on the dried banks in the middle of the river before struggling back into the water, helped by the feeble splashes from a passing current. A few of the other travellers tested the depths by wading out into the middle of the stream, coming back with their shoes not even wet at the ankles. Before too long the driver gave an angry sigh, unable to stand the sight any longer, and ushered us all back onto the bus.
When we arrived in Canberra a more light-hearted air had returned. A few jokes had been cracked along the way the driver had loosened up again; as we entered the outskirts of the city she was even cracking them herself: 'Do you guys know that prostitution and drugs are legal here?' Most of us murmured that we did; those that didn't began grinning. 'It was the first things our politicians voted to legalise when they got here,' she continued. 'They're even allowed to put them on their tax return as allowable expenses of a political career.' Everyone laughed and we drove on to the hub of the city and its sights.
It's hard to describe Australia's Parliament Building. The closest analogy I can think of is that of a huge roulette wheel wearing a deerstalker hat and covered with grass. It is without doubt one of the most ridiculous looking buildings I have ever seen, and its only saving grace is that you can walk up the grass and on to the roof of the building, where the view is fantastic. As I stood looking out over the city I couldn't help but wonder if John Howard, Australia’s Prime Minister, was beneath my feet -- I gave the ground an experimental kick and grinned as I imagined him feeling it. That'll teach him to charge me 30% tax on all my earnings! The light was beginning to fade, so we returned to the bus for a quick trip around the city and some of the Embassies. All of them were remarkably dull in their design and pretentious in their arrogance, and after the first few I couldn't even be bothered to get off the bus to look at them.
All this changed when we came to the Aboriginal Embassy. Out of everything I'd seen so far in Canberra, this was the one thing I knew would stick in my mind. Far from the pompous monstrosities the foreign nations boasted, this was nothing more than a makeshift shed covered in Aboriginal art, over which the legend Aboriginal Sovereignty Never Ceded had been hand scrawled in yellow paint. It was the perfect metaphor for how the Aboriginal people are regarded in Australia.
The Aboriginal issue is an old wound with Australian people best left unopened. Yet as a visitor, you cannot help but notice it's there. I hadn't had too much contact with Aborigines while living in Melbourne, but there were a few. They used to hang around the church at the corner of Swanston and Flinders Streets, drinking from bottles of cheap spirits and yelling at the women as they passed by. By and large I ignored them, like everyone else did, and got on with whatever I was doing at the time.
And therein lies the problem I think, with regard to any potential solving of the issue in the future. I don't think there is any doubt that the historical treatment of Aboriginals in Australia -- even up to as recently as the early 1950s -- was deplorable. But from my limited experience of them, Aborigines have by and large become their own stereotype -- drinking, bad-mouthing, lazy people who often refuse to work, have no more than a basic education and spend all the money they get on drink.
It would be wrong of me to imply that all Aborigines are like this, of course. Some are highly educated and respected individuals, holding important posts just like any other member of Australian society. But in the majority of cases, as I saw more and more as I travelled around the country, the stereotype is the unfortunate truth of the matter. Sociologists might explain this as them having no other choice but to play the roles assigned to them by society, but whatever the cause, I found them to be propagating the myth of the 'lazy, drunken Abo' by being the 'lazy, drunken Abo'. And white Australians hate them all the more for it.
Flicking through the Courier-Mail newspaper one day, I came across an article that summed up exactly the attitude of the average white Australian towards the Aboriginal issue. I include it here exactly as it was written in the newspaper:
Broadcaster Ron Casey has been suspended from a Sydney radio station after calling Aborigines lazy during an on-air interview. Casey told listeners of his Saturday morning show that Aborigines were "disadvantaged because they won't get off their black arses and do some work." The comments resulted in the broadcaster's immediate suspension from work and it is unlikely that he will resume his place behind the microphone. Casey's remarks came when he was interviewing a newspaper reporter about an article on racism. He became angry when the reporter accused Casey's programme of airing "nonsense about blaming the whole Aboriginal race." A Radio 2GB spokesman said the station had a "zero tolerance" policy, which Casey had breached. The programme's producer had hit the "dump" button to end the interview, but not quickly enough to stop the offending comments going to air, he said. It is the third time radio 2GB has sacked Casey and the fourth time he has made racist comments on air. Casey's career also included a live-to-air punch up with entertainer Normie Rowe on The Midday Show in 1992.
In their defence, in recent years several Aboriginal communities have reacted to their situation by setting up 'dry communities' where it is illegal within the boundaries of the village to consume alcohol. Standards within these communities have shown such a dramatic success rate, not only in terms of the levels of education and health of the people taking part but also in the respect being shown to them by white Australians, that there may be some hope of reconciliation in the future. For the meantime though, if Aborigines continue to behave in the way I observed them to behave – and white Australian’s attitudes towards them do not change either - I can only predict that their future within Australian society will remain bitterly bleak.
Sat in the hostel after a tour of the city, I decided that everyone I'd talked to was right - Canberra is a tedious city and there is nothing at all to do there except go to a brothel or flame up a doobie. Having no political aspirations I had no real desire to do either. I couldn't wait to leave.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60 | 61 | 62 | 63 | 64 | 65 | 66 | 67 | 68 | 69 | 70 | 71 | 72 | 73 | 74 | 75 | 76 | 77 | 78 | 79 | 80 81 | 82 | 83 | 84 | 85 | 86 | 87 | 88 | 89 | 90 91 | 92 | 93 | 94 | 95 | 96 | 97 | 98 | 99 | 100 101 102 | 103 | 104 | 105 | 106 | 107 | 108 | 109 | 110 | 111 | 112 | 113 | 114 | 115 | 116 | 117 | 118 | 119 | 120 | 121 | 122 | 123 | 124 | 125 | 126 | 127 | 128 | 129 | 130 | 131 132 | 133 | 134 | 135 | 136 | 137 | 138 | 139 | 140 | 141 142 | 143 | 144 | 145 | 146 | 147 | 148 | 149 | 150 | 151 152 153 154 | 155 | 156 | 157 | 158 | 159 | 160 | 161 | 162 | 163 | 164 | 165 | 166 | 167 | 168 | 169 | 170 | 171 | 172 | 173 | 174 | 175 | 176 | 177 | 178 | 179 | 180 | 181 | 182 | 183 184 | 185 | 186 | 187 | 188 | 189 | 190 | 191 | 192 | 193 194 | 195 | 196 | 197 | 198 | 199 | 200 | 201 | 202 | 203 204 | 205 | 206 | 207 208 | 209 | 210 | 211 212 | 213 | 214 | 215 216 | 217 | 218 | 219 220 | 221 | 222 | 223 224 | 225 | 226 | 227 228 | 229 | | 231 232 | 233 | 234 | 235 236 | 237 | 238 | 239 240 | 204 | 242 | 204 244 | 245 | 246 | 247 248 | 249 | 250 | 251 252 | 253 | | 255 256 | 257 | 258 | 259 260 | 261 | 262 | 263 264 | 265 | 266 | 267 268 | 269 | 270 | 271 272 | 273 | 274 | 275 276 | 277 | | 279 280 | 282 | 284 | 286 287 | 288 | 289 | 290 291 | 292 | 293 | 294 295 | 296 | 297 |