Walk around the sprawling community of Wadeye and you will be assailed by children, quick to spot a stranger in town. They crowd around curiously and talk to you in broken English but chatter among themselves in Murrinh-patha, the indigenous language of this former Catholic mission. Six other languages are spoken here, all of them endangered, making Wadeye a laboratory for linguists.
"Language is our identity and if we forget our identity, we are nothing," says Patrick Nudjulu, sheltering from the sun on the veranda of his house.
A patriarchal figure, with white beard and a leg withered by leprosy, he points to his grandchildren playing nearby.
Speaking in their mother tongue will keep them connected to their culture, says this old man. But he encourages the children to go to school to do their sums and to learn how to speak in English.
"You need to be able to talk to the white fella," he says.
Wadeye, pronounced Wad-air, sits on the edge of the Daly River Reserve, 280km southwest of Darwin in Australia's Northern Territory. The country's largest indigenous community, it has a population of 2,700, comprising 24 clans, seven tribes and three ceremonial groups. The ethnic mix is a throwback to the 1930s when missionaries persuaded indigenous groups to live together.
Cut off by road for up to five months of the rainy season, any visitors come in by air. The flight is over forests and woodlands, towering cliffs, vast wetlands, paperbark and mangrove swamps. It is wild and beautiful country. The few outsiders permitted to come here arrive at the airstrip on the edge of the township and find a settlement resembling a shantytown. At first glance, it seems a picture of dysfunction.
There is litter everywhere and none of the niceties of life that white people in suburbs of Sydney or Canberra take for granted, such as shops and cafes.
Many of the buildings are boarded up and covered in graffiti. A glance inside reveals that most are largely unfurnished, apart from cookers, a few chairs and mattresses, televisions and stereos, many of which blast out music at all hours.
There are no well-tended gardens and people can't help but bring in mud and dirt, especially in the wet season. Overcrowding is rife and an average of 17 people live in each house, following the Aboriginal tradition of living in family groups.
squalor
Some of the tenants, who are clearly depressed and lethargic, do not seem to notice the squalor that they are living in or the smells around them.
There is high unemployment in Wadeye. Most people exist on welfare payments. There are also endemic health problems associated with overcrowding, poor hygiene and a lack of education.
Pat Rebgetz, the only doctor serving this community of 2,700 people, says health care has been under-funded for decades and there is only so much he and his team of community nurses can do in their "crummy" health care center. Residents suffer high rates of heart disease, rheumatic fever, skin sepsis and nephritis. Some 20 to 30 percent of children have perforated ear drums due to chronic infection. Some children are malnourished. There are 80 births a year, some to 13- and 14-year-olds.
"This is happening because of decades of neglect," Rebgetz said. "I feel the politicians think these people are not worth it."
"They largely believe the Aboriginal people have brought all this on themselves. There are a lot of gentle, good people here who have just been beaten down by their living conditions," he said. "The grandmothers are the backbone of this community. I am in awe of how they can survive among all this dysfunction."



