Strange Murri

Reflections On Post-Colonial Aboriginal Identity.

"Strange Murri" is a term used by some Australian Aboriginal peoples referring to unfamiliar people from other Indigenous groups. Because of the invaders' destruction of diplomatic protocols between language groups along traditional trading routes and songlines, and the use of non-local Indigenous police for genocidal activity, a mistrust of unfamiliar Aborigines has arisen in many Indigenous communities. In these contexts, such individuals are often referred to in northern Aboriginal Englishes as "Strange Murris". I have often been the "Strange Murri" in non-local Indigenous contexts. However, just as often I have encountered the opposite - "Waipal, oh!" (A white man is here!). This is due to my pale appearance.

It is fascinating to observe the shift in status that then occurs when people recognise my Indigenousness in these situations, when I am subsequently labelled a "yella fella" or "half-caste". Initially there is a sentry function in the cry of "Waipal oh!", meaning "Stop what you are doing, hide if you need to, present the reality that white people want to see!" However, then, when locals recognise me as Indigenous, a most unexpected reaction can often occur. Perhaps you would anticipate an opening up, a relaxing and acceptance? But no - a suspiciousness and general feeling of mistrust sometimes ensues, accompanied by mutterings about "Strange Murris". Perhaps the dominant culture might imagine a kind of universal black brotherhood kicking in during such an exchange. I'd hate to disappoint, but that is not always the case.

In the past decade, as a "Strange Murri" teacher, I have often enjoyed the same status in Indigenous communities as native police did in the bad old days, when they were employed to capture or murder fellow natives.

A friend of mine of Undumbi and Kanaka descent experiences the same difficulty, only to a greater extent because of the higher melanin content of his skin. We have a private joke, whereby we greet each other as, "Heeeeeeeeey Strange Murri!" A weird colonial twist on this relationship is that I have a neice who talks to him in Wik Mungkan, although he doesn't understand a word of it, simply because she thinks his skin tone denotes Wik fluency. She speaks English to me because of my lighter skin tone, while I translate her Wik to him, and his English to her. So, in a way, my "yella fella" skin tone can sometimes increase my Strange Murri status, even with those who are close to me.

I took this same neice to an Invasion Day march on "Australia Day" in Brisbane. Bear in mind she had never experienced Indigenous contexts beyond her northern mission community before this. She frowned, puzzled, at the crowd of pale-skinned Aborigines before her. "Where are the Aboriginal people?" she asked. Suddenly, she pointed towards city hall, to a group of Sudanese African people who had just been granted citizenship. "There they are!" she exclaimed, excitedly.

This girl has stayed with me for nearly two years, and so I have had a lot of input into the development of her beliefs and values. Therefore, it disturbs me that she is still so brainwashed by colonial propaganda that she can ignore the ethnic realities that define her existence. For example, as her uncle, I am still more of a "Strange Murri" to her than an unknown person from Africa is, because of my lighter skin. If she says to Ms Rampele, "Wanttak e'?" I have to translate, "How are you?" The fact that Ms Rampele answers in perfect English escapes her attention.

When she sees a person from say, the West Indies, she becomes excited at the proximity of someone who is, as she says, "our colour". At such times, as the light skinned relative, I fade into the background culturally - despite family connections and cultural familiarity, and I become, once again, the Strange Murri.