Desert discos

Desert discos pump through the night air in small communities. Organised by the boys (and girls) in blue, a rare positive treat from the justice system.

Dusk approaches, trestle tables with music equipment, stands with coloured lights. Little kids gather, their eyes alight. Anticipation.

Coppers and staff mill about, set up barbeques or gather together chips and drinks for small profit sales (profits returning to various events from playgroups to footy jumpers). Dogs congregate, the scent of sausages wafts through the cool night air.

Dusk settles on Blackstone, out the back of the station

In Warburton and Blackstone, discos are held outside the police station on a sweep of lawn kindly laid by the federal government. In other communities, any covered area will do. The community hall, its walls torn and rusted. A bower shelter for the equipment, next to the single power socket, open air for the disco hall.

Cars drive the few hundred metres to disco tunes, filled with families of all ages. Night falls swiftly. The music starts and the air begins to thump, stragglers draw in.

Young men watch the young girls dance. Boys eager to copy music rap videos. Young girls shy and smiling. Little kids toddling, under foot.

The centre of the dance space filled only by the occasional happy worker, moving to familiar tunes of city venues or nostalgic moments past. Young kids ripple around the edges, practising moves. Preparing.

Suddenly a boy darts from the shadows. A rap scene snippet flies from his thin arms and legs, cap turned backwards. The crowd noise rises and he darts away. A second boy jumps out, newly brave. Shorter snippets of TV African American dance, he flees.

Three girls on the sidelines take a few steps forward. Twisting and gyrating in unison, arms flung in simulated abandon above their heads. Hips rotating a mesmerising smooth tight circle. Sexual energy in tiny bodies, emerge and captivate. Kunda (shy), release and hasty retreat.

Occasional bravery pushes one or two girls further forward, abandon increases, spotlight of attention intensifies. The moment cracks, they dart from centre to the comfort of shadows.

Little kids, just standing, dance with easy flow, unmoved by the subtle shifts and tugs of adolescents testing. Rites of passage hiding in the shadows, just behind older siblings and cousins.

The night draws closer and older kids move away, searching out darker shadows, the music a backdrop now.

Gradually dispersing, lengthen and retreat, music still pumping in their ears. The energy fades, back into houses and small fires lit. Another disco night.

Another desert night.

For some of the sounds of the night: The Yabu Band, 'Beautiful Girls'