More than just a journey – How working with Aborigines in Australia turned my world upside down
- kiaranemeth
- Mar 10
- 9 min read
Updated: Mar 24
I was sitting on the step in front of my hostel, my heavy backpack with all my clothes beside me, my heart pounding faster than usual. Any minute now, a stranger would pick me up and take me somewhere - I only vaguely knew where.
It all started with a Facebook message. Among countless sketchy job offers, there was one from Tim: a position at RESET, working with Aboriginal people. Skeptical, I asked questions until he offered to meet his wife - a sign of trust that made me pause. I talked to my parents on the phone, and it was my father’s words that finally made me say yes:"You can be a barista anywhere, but you can only work with Aboriginal people here." And now, here I was, in Cairns, ready for an adventure that would change my life. A petite woman named Justine stepped out of the car and signalled for me to get in. A few streets away , Tim was waiting with a second vehicle and some Aboriginal passengers that were heading back to their community from Cairns. And then, we were off - under the blazing sun and blue sky, straight into the unknown. The first few hours of the drive were rather uneventful. We passed small villages, stopped at a gas station for a surprisingly delicious sandwich, and as the landscape became more barren, I got lost in conversations with Tim.
He was a fascinating man - once a soldier, later a university professor, and now working here with and for Australia's Indigenous people. His stories were filled with knowledge and life experience, and as we talked about culture, history, and life itself, I felt safe and in good hands. Many hours later, Tim asked me to drive one of the cars for the final stretch. Justine was to be dropped off at a campsite, and to avoid anyone having to return later, it was up to me to take the second car home. I was exhausted, no doubt - but determined. Driving on the left side of the road with the steering wheel on the right? Unfamiliar, but in the middle of nowhere, where we hadn't seen another car for hours, it seemed manageable.
Ayleen, an older Aboriginal woman, took the passenger seat next to me. Tim had asked her to keep an eye on me. I was tense, barely speaking. But after a while, I saw out of the corner of my eye that she had quietly fallen asleep beside me. That’s when I knew: She felt safe with me. And that, in turn, reassured me. Driving through the darkness became almost meditative. The headlights bathed the red, sandy road in warm light, while pitch-black vastness stretched out on either side. Every now and then, owls sat motionless by the roadside, as if watching over me. It was quiet - not an empty silence, but one full of meaning. And in that moment, I felt it: This journey would change me. After another two hours, we finally reached what would be my home for the next few weeks. It was the middle of the night, and aside from the dim streetlights, there was little to see. No people, no movement - just simple houses resting in the darkness. We pulled up to Tim’s house. Behind a tall fence stood a small building with a covered veranda, a few cars in the yard, a garage stretching several meters wide - and a square container, which turned out to be my new room.
Tim helped me with my luggage. As I stepped inside, the streetlights cast a soft glow through the window, revealing a neatly made bed. I wanted to take a closer look at everything, but exhaustion took over. Before I could even organize my thoughts, I fell into bed - right into a new world.
I had no idea how long I had slept - but when I opened my eyes, the sun was already high in the sky. My body had needed the rest. Still half-asleep, I let my gaze wander around the small room. Only now did I notice the thoughtful details: a simple glass dresser with woven baskets as drawers, a small wooden shelf with three levels. On top sat a round mirror, neatly folded towels, and a small bottle of shower gel. Someone had put effort into making me feel welcome. When I finally got up, got ready, and stepped outside, the warm midday sun greeted me - as if welcoming me to my new home. Everything around me was still. I walked toward the house, looking for Tim, but instead met a tall, slender woman with blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore beige work pants and a shirt, a friendly smile on her lips. "You must be Kiara," she greeted me. She introduced herself as Veera, Tim’s wife. Originally from Finland, she had once come to Australia as a backpacker - and stayed. It was important to her that I felt at home. After a short chat, she invited me inside for a quick meal. As I eagerly ate, she and Tim told me more about the work in the community. Feeling energized and eager to contribute, I was ready to get started. Veera handed me work clothes. My first task was simple but perfect for settling in: mowing a garden with a ride-on mower.
Together with Tim and Mason, the son of one of his friends, we completed the work. Afterward, I spent the rest of the day relaxing with Tim, Veera, and Mason. During dinner, we had long and interesting conversations - the first of many, as I would later realize. But my thoughts were already circling around the next morning. Monday would mark the true beginning of my work.
After a restful night, my first official workday started promptly at 8 AM. The daily meeting took place in the garden, where I was introduced to the Aboriginal workers. They observed me curiously - a new outsider in their midst. Since I had a driver’s license, I was assigned to the Town Cleaning Team. My task? Driving. For the first few days, my job was to transport the workers and cleaning supplies from one place to another. While my new colleagues spoke in their native language, I listened intently, even though I didn’t understand a word. Ayleen, who had already accompanied me on the journey, was also part of my team. She continued to keep an eye on me, giving me directions and showing me what to do. Even though I didn’t understand everything yet and this was just the beginning, I knew: I was already in the middle of it - and it would be a time full of new experiences.
With each passing day, it became easier to find my way around Aurukun. There were only about ten streets, and after a few days, I knew exactly where we needed to go. But more than just getting my bearings on a map, it was about slowly becoming a real part of this world. Bit by bit, I began to understand the routines of the daily cleaning tasks. It wasn’t just about tidying up—it was about teaching something valuable. RESET stands for Remote Environments Skills Employment & Training. It’s not just about cleaning or maintenance work—it’s about teaching skills that provide long-term opportunities. At the same time, I was learning so much from them: about their culture, their language, and their way of seeing the world. After about a week, something happened that was a turning point for me. Until then, my colleagues had mostly spoken in their own language, which I understood, but it also made me feel like an outsider. Then, suddenly, they switched to English - not because they had to, but so I could be part of their conversations. It was a small detail, but for me, a huge gesture. In that moment, I knew: They accepted me. They let me become part of their daily lives. The work was physically demanding.
The sun burned down from the sky, and I always wore long clothing to protect my skin. But scrubbing floors or picking up trash in this outfit was a real challenge. Still, I truly enjoyed the work - mainly because of the people around me. Ayleen, in particular, grew close to my heart. She was always by my side, looking out for me and showing me things I wouldn’t have understood on my own. With each passing day, our bond grew stronger - just like my understanding of the people here.
One weekend, we drove to a nearby river to swim and have a barbecue. It was a moment full of lightness and joy, a moment when I felt that I was no longer just a stranger.
RESET wasn’t just a job. It was a life lesson. Tim and Veera didn’t look down on the community; they didn’t judge. They met everyone with respect and a belief in second chances. That made RESET more than just work - it was a mission. Unlike in Western work environments, here in Aurukun, you couldn’t impose rigid schedules on people. If you told Aboriginal workers they had to work from 8 to 4 and would be fired if they didn’t show up, you’d soon be standing alone. RESET embraced a more flexible, respectful approach - one that honored the cultural values of the people it aimed to help. Instead of flying in cleaning staff from other parts of Australia, they use the resources and people who already live here. This gives the locals the opportunity to expand their knowledge and skills while actively contributing to the improvement of the community.
It’s not just about daily cleaning services but also about gardening and supporting the nearby mines. RESET plays a key role in this by maintaining and cleaning accommodations as well as making the roads passable again after the rainy season.
Each morning, tasks were assigned, and workers could sign up for what they wanted to do. Payment was given only for completed tasks, but often, workers wouldn’t show up due to family or cultural commitments. Instead of punishing them, RESET adapted, finding solutions that worked for both sides.
Almost every evening after dinner, I would sit with Tim and Veera for a long time. We talked about the day, what had gone well, and what had not. Which tasks had been successfully completed, and what challenges had we faced with the workers? What was particularly interesting was recognizing the subtle mood beneath the surface – sometimes it wasn’t just the task itself that needed to be done, but also the invisible, interpersonal aspects. What was the vibe in the group? Had tensions built up that needed to be understood? This job was much more than just getting tasks done. It required empathy, a sensitivity to the things that were not immediately visible. Tim and Veera wanted to offer their workers a second home – a place where they felt safe and respected. And over time, I became part of that. I felt more and more how important it was to understand the dynamics of the community, the invisible web of relationships and traditions that shaped daily life.
On these evenings, I heard a lot about the psychological and cultural aspects of life in the community. Tim and Veera told me about things I could never have imagined – deep emotional and family challenges, the struggles of the Aboriginal people that had spanned generations. It was hard to grasp what was really going on here, but the more I listened, the more I understood that it wasn’t just about the work, but also about understanding the difficult past and the everyday problems.
In the weeks I spent in Aurukun, a deep curiosity grew in me – a curiosity about the psychology behind this whole community, the history that was reflected in each of its members, and the invisible wounds that were not immediately apparent. I wanted to understand what they had experienced, what moved them, and how they kept trying to survive in a system that often seemed to fail to understand them.
The longer I worked in Aurukun and the more I learned about the people and the culture there, the stronger the feeling grew that my originally planned dual studies were increasingly not the right choice for me. The idea of returning to the Western working world, with its rigid system and fixed rules, began to feel more and more out of place. During a phone call with my parents, I shared my thoughts with them, the doubts that were tormenting me, and the longing to delve deeper into psychology. But simply continuing to travel without a clear goal in mind was not an option for me. I wanted to grow and, above all, do something that would not only satisfy my mind but also my heart. That’s when I found my way into distance learning – applied psychology. This decision came not only from the desire to acquire knowledge but from the deep need to understand and apply psychology in practice – especially in everyday situations and in the many different aspects of life I had encountered during my time in Australia.
My time with RESET didn’t just change my career path - it deepened my understanding of people, culture, and the power of second chances. I still stay in touch with the people who taught me so much, and I can’t wait to see them again - maybe sooner than I think.
But one thing is certain: This experience will always be a part of me.
"Wisdom is not in knowing many things, but in living deeply." - Michel de Montaigne -
Comments