And the unwillingness to get one's hands dirty but still engage in charity. No one is immune from that are they? And that's one thing (among many things) I like about this poem. Substitute aid worker for missionary and it still works.
You have a wonderful sense of humor, David. Wonderful because it's compassionate and with appreciation for the absurd!
Yes - well - I could write a book on this, but my brief response is: well yes, traditional Warlpiri society is polygamous (and the same is/was true in other language groups around Australia) - but with extremely strict marriage rules built into a rather wonderfully complex kinship system. Anthropologists will tell you that there are genetic/survival reasons behind the system - but the Warlpiri, if asked, simply say "that's the law."
My next door neighbour at Lajamanu had 3 wives and was negotiating for a 4th, but community sentiment was against him, for a few reasons. The missionaries hate it - obviously - because it simply offends their moral sense, but I don't think that is why community attitudes are changing. All cultures evolve over time, to suit the environment of the times, and the Warlpiri are now a small island in the sea of another very dominant culture. When I was there, the elders of the community all grew up as traditional nomads, but now there are younger generations who are exposed to a wider world, and will make their own choices. My poem makes no comment on the moral, ethical or practical issues around polygamy - (that book again) - but yes, (Thankyou!) you are correct - I'm just trying to show the absurd side of the situation.
I remember someone I worked with insisting that if we didnot judge or condemn the cultural practices of other societies, (e.g., polygamy) we were being immoral. She said it took us into "no standards territory."
The absurdity for me is when we overlook what we are actually responsible for in order to condemn that which is happening outside our control, and then making that a litmus test for our morality.
I don't stake my morality on actions for which I have no direct accountability. I also try and understand, as you clearly did, in this poem, to engage and understand what I am seeing. After all, I know so little...even about my own culpability.
Yes... good point, Jeremy, and I agree. When I was actually living there I did have to make a few personal individual choices about specific situations and I helped several women who were in real difficulty and needed help. That was an easy moral decision for me, rather than a comment on local culture and the social system itself. As in our own social system - sometimes the safeguards that should be in place fail for an individual, and we either look away or we step forward.
Ah. I picked out the missionary aspects of Waves before I realized you has posted this follow up poem. From my experience as a missionary and from hosting others. Various faiths, I tend to invite them in and make them whatever beverage their faith allows them to drink, the interesting thing is that the missionaries themselves seem fairly confused about what they are doing and why. They are certainly well scripted and zealous. but the conviction seems generally fairly shallow. There always felt like a tinge of desperation involved. And then micropolitics emerge even within the missionary culture. Its not exactly the loaves and the fishes in the spirit intended in the story. Interesting. I realize I have never looked up why they call it the missionary position. I can guess I suppose, but I think I will not take time to ask AI that question this morning. Some things are better remaining a mystery.
Hey Jed. Well yes. I'm always polite to missionaries who knock on my door. I've had some interesting conversations too, when time was available. These particular missionaries had no respect for the local culture, and were tied up with external control of the only store and bank facility in the community. Because the community was 350 miles from the nearest town, that left the people extremely vulnerable. Poor management of the store was also killing them with preventable diet related illness - as per my "Lajamanu Morning" poem. There were a couple of SIL missionaries from the USA there too - who I got along fine with. I have huge concern about what SIL does, but the individuals were good people, and at least respected Warlpiri culture. As skilled linguists they were helping preserve the language - even though their reason for doping that (to translate the Bible into Warlpiri) seemed to me wholly ludicrous.
Of course, the problem with a poem - or even a short story - is the inevitable over simplification of a universe of issues into a few words.
'Only one wife'
Oh, there is so much left unsaid there...
And the unwillingness to get one's hands dirty but still engage in charity. No one is immune from that are they? And that's one thing (among many things) I like about this poem. Substitute aid worker for missionary and it still works.
You have a wonderful sense of humor, David. Wonderful because it's compassionate and with appreciation for the absurd!
Ah! Jeremy, you picked up on that....
Yes - well - I could write a book on this, but my brief response is: well yes, traditional Warlpiri society is polygamous (and the same is/was true in other language groups around Australia) - but with extremely strict marriage rules built into a rather wonderfully complex kinship system. Anthropologists will tell you that there are genetic/survival reasons behind the system - but the Warlpiri, if asked, simply say "that's the law."
My next door neighbour at Lajamanu had 3 wives and was negotiating for a 4th, but community sentiment was against him, for a few reasons. The missionaries hate it - obviously - because it simply offends their moral sense, but I don't think that is why community attitudes are changing. All cultures evolve over time, to suit the environment of the times, and the Warlpiri are now a small island in the sea of another very dominant culture. When I was there, the elders of the community all grew up as traditional nomads, but now there are younger generations who are exposed to a wider world, and will make their own choices. My poem makes no comment on the moral, ethical or practical issues around polygamy - (that book again) - but yes, (Thankyou!) you are correct - I'm just trying to show the absurd side of the situation.
Best Wishes - Dave :)
I remember someone I worked with insisting that if we didnot judge or condemn the cultural practices of other societies, (e.g., polygamy) we were being immoral. She said it took us into "no standards territory."
The absurdity for me is when we overlook what we are actually responsible for in order to condemn that which is happening outside our control, and then making that a litmus test for our morality.
I don't stake my morality on actions for which I have no direct accountability. I also try and understand, as you clearly did, in this poem, to engage and understand what I am seeing. After all, I know so little...even about my own culpability.
Yes... good point, Jeremy, and I agree. When I was actually living there I did have to make a few personal individual choices about specific situations and I helped several women who were in real difficulty and needed help. That was an easy moral decision for me, rather than a comment on local culture and the social system itself. As in our own social system - sometimes the safeguards that should be in place fail for an individual, and we either look away or we step forward.
Ah. I picked out the missionary aspects of Waves before I realized you has posted this follow up poem. From my experience as a missionary and from hosting others. Various faiths, I tend to invite them in and make them whatever beverage their faith allows them to drink, the interesting thing is that the missionaries themselves seem fairly confused about what they are doing and why. They are certainly well scripted and zealous. but the conviction seems generally fairly shallow. There always felt like a tinge of desperation involved. And then micropolitics emerge even within the missionary culture. Its not exactly the loaves and the fishes in the spirit intended in the story. Interesting. I realize I have never looked up why they call it the missionary position. I can guess I suppose, but I think I will not take time to ask AI that question this morning. Some things are better remaining a mystery.
Hey Jed. Well yes. I'm always polite to missionaries who knock on my door. I've had some interesting conversations too, when time was available. These particular missionaries had no respect for the local culture, and were tied up with external control of the only store and bank facility in the community. Because the community was 350 miles from the nearest town, that left the people extremely vulnerable. Poor management of the store was also killing them with preventable diet related illness - as per my "Lajamanu Morning" poem. There were a couple of SIL missionaries from the USA there too - who I got along fine with. I have huge concern about what SIL does, but the individuals were good people, and at least respected Warlpiri culture. As skilled linguists they were helping preserve the language - even though their reason for doping that (to translate the Bible into Warlpiri) seemed to me wholly ludicrous.
Of course, the problem with a poem - or even a short story - is the inevitable over simplification of a universe of issues into a few words.
No way I was missing this bonus (with that title)😊
Thanks, Dave. You put into words what I thought when I read the bit on the missionaries, but with much greater eloquence!