Like millions of Australians I listened, somewhat tearfully, to Kevin Rudd's apology to the indigenous custodians of Australia. At long last the Australian government was doing something of which I could be proud. But the elation was short lived.
By the afternoon I was again overwhelmed by the enormity of the challenges faced by the indigenous people of this nation.
And the phrase playing on my mind wasn't "sorry", rather it was the Pitjantjatjara phrase Ngapartji Ngapartji.
Earlier on in the year I was fortunate enough to see a play by the same name presented at the Belvoir Street Theatre in Sydney, and created by the amazing team at Big hART. The play was an incredible ride, and the notion of Ngapartji Ngapartji has been rattling around in my head ever since.
It's all about reciprocity, it's all about give and take, literally it means; "you give me something, I give you something".
The play also gave me something sacred: my first introduction to the Pitjantjatjara language. In school I learnt how to say "hello" in French, Spanish, German, Japanese and Latin. I learnt how to ask the time an introduce myself. I learnt a little about the history and the cultures which underpin those languages.
But here I was; three decades living and learning and growing in this country, and to my great shame I had no idea how to say hello in any of the twenty-odd surviving Aboriginal languages. But what of Ngapartji Ngapartji? Having been given something as sacred as language, what could a city-based white girl possibly do that is of any value to the people of the Spinfex country in Western Australia where Pitjantjatjara is still spoken.
And then it hit me: I can show respect to original custodians of this country, who have sacrificed so much for the rest of us, by learning their language. By teaching my kids that the Aboriginal stories we read come from real nations, with complex cultures and fascinating histories.
I could give back respect, by teaching my kids about other indigenous languages too, about Arrernte [1], and Gooniyandi [2], about the stories and the songs, about the past, and the present. Thanks again to Big hART, there's an online course teaching Pitjantjatjara (http://ninti.ngapartji.org [3]), and practice groups that meet regularly in all major cities.
The greatest threat to Aboriginal languages in Australia at the moment is that they are not being spoken, well hey there's something I can do about that. And one of the greatest threats to Aboriginal culture is the loss of the few languages that remain, and yeah, there's something I can do about that as well.
Oh and by the way, "Wai, kulila-ya!" means "Hey, listen up", if you're talking to a big group of people.
And while there isn't really a word for "hello" in Pitjantjatjara, "palya", which means "good", is a friendly way to greet someone in the Western Desert, or for that matter, wherever else you happen to be.