I want to introduce you to Carl. I learned to say his name with an Aussie accent. Listen: “Caaal”. Long a. Otherwise with my American accent his name sounds like Carol and believe me, Carl is no Carol.
Carl was a guy that we had contacted because someone stumbled on his website. He seemed like he was doing good stuff with Aboriginal communities so I was lucky to get a hold of him via Skype and he invited me and Mark to join him on visiting some of the communities that he ministers to on a regular basis in the outback of the Northern Territory. Sweet! Mark and I flew to Cairns to meet up with Carl and meet his family and then the next day the three of us flew to Darwin to take care of some business and then head out into the outback on Saturday. On Saturday we packed up Carl’s LandCruiser with all the essentials including extra diesel (because where we were going there was no filling stations), water, canned goods and some perishables that we kept in a little fridge and good old camping gear.
About two hours into our journey we made our final stop to fill up the Cruiser and the road turned from blacktop to smooth red dirt. Then it turned from smooth red dirt to rigid, bumpy red dirt and then to occasional deep sand where Carl had to get out and lock the hubs. We crossed riverbeds and looked for crocodiles (for real) and buffalo. As we drove the cadence of Carl’s voice was steady as he told of the Aboriginal people, their history, their stories, customs and as he talked his dedication and passion for these people to know and understand the Gospel was obvious. If you ever meet Carl you won’t have to ask him about his heart for these people. You’ll see it.
We arrived in Owenpele around 6:30pm and met a group of people hanging around one of the first houses you see as you drive into “town”. I immediately joined three women sitting in the “yard”. There were two long necked turtles lying in the dirt, their necks obviously broken. They were on the menu for dinner and we got to stay long enough to see Edna (pictured at the right) partially cook them over an open fire. As curious as I was to taste the turtle, I am a little glad we decided to try and make it to another village, Manmoyi, before it got too late and before the turtle was done.
We reached Manmoyi about two hours later under the cloak of darkness but were greeted at the first house we saw by a group of people sitting out under the blanket of stars. They were happy to see Carl and plan a fellowship for the next day. We were given the key to the three room school house to sleep in and I sure was grateful to lay down that night and get some rest. Even though we had only traveled a few hundred kilometers that day, being in Manmoyi felt like the middle of Africa.
The Aboriginal communities are very isolated and most are not even reachable by car between December and June because of the wet season bringing the rivers o
ver their banks and making large sections of road impassable. The people can live their whole lives cut off from the world with no jobs and just sustenance from the government. Being in Aboriginal communities feels a million miles away from the bustle of the coastal cities, even though you’re only a half a day’s drive.
