By Erin Parke, ABC
A visit from the Wangkarnal crow is a special Australian Christmas tradition that plays out each year in a community in Australia’s remote Kimberley.
Photo: ABC News: Andy Seabourne
It’s a hot night before Christmas and an eerie figure is perched on a hilltop, gazing over Gija country, in Western Australia’s Kimberley.
He is tall, feathered and mysterious – and makes a loud screeching noise as the sun begins to set.
Soon, he’ll be bringing presents to local children, but he ain’t no Santa Claus.
He is Wangkarnal – the strangest and spookiest Christmas tradition you’ve never heard of – and he’s about to make his annual appearance in the small bush community of Warmun.
“We don’t have Santa here, he hasn’t visited for about 50 years,” explains teaching assistant Spencer Morgan.
“Wangkarnal is the Gija word for crow, and every year he visits with presents for the kids.
“Everyone’s excited that he’ll be rocking up tonight – excited and a little bit scared!”
The Wangkarnal Dreamtime story
Wangkarnal is a uniquely Australian Christmas tradition that plays out each year in this part of northern Western Australia.
Warmun community chairperson Vanessa Thomas says the crow character comes from the creation stories of Gija people.
Community chairperson Vanessa Thomas explains the origins of the Wangkarnal story
Photo: ABC News: ABC News: Erin Parke
“It’s a special thing to celebrate the story from our Ngarrangkarni, or Dreamtime,” she says.
“The old people taught us about the crow and the eagle, who lived up on the hill, but the crow was really lazy and never went hunting.
“So they had a fight and the eagle struck the crow with hot coals, and that’s how Wangkarnal got the white marks around his eyes.
“Nowadays, we have a football team called the Eagles, and we have the crow come at Christmas time to give presents to the kids.”
The remote community of Warmun in the Kimberley. The Wangkarnal crow has its origins in the creation stories of the Gija people of the East Kimberley region.
Photo: ABC News: Andy Seabourne
It’s thought Wangkarnal became entwined with Christian Christmas traditions in the 1970s.
It was a formative time for the Gija families, who – after about 100 years of colonial dispossession – decided to establish their own community where language and customs could be maintained.
They asked the Catholic Church to help them start a school where children could be taught both cultural values and the mainstream curriculum.
Elder Eileen Bray says the result is a special blend of Gija and Christian culture in both classrooms and daily life.
“I think we’re doing a good job of keeping our language and culture strong, but trying to make sure young people can find a job as well,” she says.
“It’s not easy, but my Jangalu [uncle] told me, ‘you have to keep the language going, teach the kids, keep it strong’, so we do our best.”
Eileen Bray is a Gija language teacher and translator in Warmun Community.
Photo: ABC News: Andy Seabourne
The Christmas crow arrives
When the ABC arrives to witness the arrival of Wangkarnal, there’s electricity in the air. A tropical storm crackles overhead as excited children gather for the school Christmas concert.
“I feel gooloo gooloo [happy] that he’s coming to visit,” Tennielle Patrick says.
“Sometimes the kids run away because Wangkarnal can be a bit scary.”
Lauren Peters and Tennielle Patrick learn via a two-way education system at the Ngalangangpun School in Warmun.
Photo: ABC News: Erin Parke
After class awards, the ominous beat of clapping sticks begins, and the handful of remaining elders sing to summon the big black bird.
A white troopie – the troop carrier four-wheel-drive favoured in these parts – tears across the oval and the kids begin to scream.
Spencer Morgan throws open the passenger doors, and two large screeching crows burst out and lunge towards the crowd.
The crows dart and weave among the families, emitting strange bird noises, and scooping up presents to be delivered to each child.
After the excitement, as dinner is packed away and prams are being pushed home, Spencer reflects on the spectacle.
He grew up watching Wangkarnal as a child and, after several years away at boarding school, has returned to Warmun to be a teaching assistant.
“I’m a local boy, so it makes me very happy to be helping out with the younger ones now,” he says.
“I guess it’s pretty unusual what we have here, the way we mix [cultural influences] together in our stories and our art and the school.”
Spencer Morgan watched Wangkarnal’s arrival as a child and now helps organise the event.
Photo: ABC News: Erin Parke
For now, Wangkarnal has folded away his wings and disappeared into the night.
But locals know he will be back next Christmas; a ritual held tight, even as everything else in the world is changing.
– ABC
