Sorry Business forms a sombre backdrop during our visit in Kakadu, and becomes more prevalent as we cruise into Jabiru for supplies.
Red ochre streaks are smeared across the bank, the library, signposts, vehicles, skin – they mark the buildings of Jabiru and beyond, just as it marks the mourning of a grieving community.
There is a sense of something not just sorrowful, but ancient.
The communities of Kakadu have walked through time to show respect and connection. One of their own has died. Taken too early, tragically, the victim if a car accident. A promising young woman, with a bright future, who walked a path between modern ways and traditional living. A community is bereft, sorry she is gone, sorry for their loss.
As a white woman I don’t pretend to understand the intricacies of this mourning custom. I do not share their history, but I do feel for their loss.
Neither am I entitled to share their sorry business, but like any bystander at a funeral or memorial I see a sorrow which goes deep down.
Sorry Business has intensity.
It’s tough and sacred, filled with emotion, and connection to a timeless past.
