The didgeridoo is an ancient Australian Aboriginal musical instrument, and one that has been a prominent symbol of Aboriginal culture to the outside world for years. Its rumbling, distinctive tones are instantly recognizable to many. Thousands of tourists travel every year to Australia to visit Aboriginal peoples and purchase their crafts. Over the years, the didgeridoo has become, in terms of repercussions on the environment and local communities, the “elephant tusk” of Australia. The BBC recently reported that thousands of trees are being felled by non-indigenous Australians and manufactured into look alike authentic Aboriginal didgeridoos.
Manyallaluk, a small Aboriginal community of the Northern Territory, still maintains its practices and traditions of making didgeridoos in the same way their ancestors did. The process is itself an art form and a spiritual journey in itself, its practitioners say. Master Didgeridoo Maker “Long John” Dewar of Manyallaluk has been making these ancient instruments for over 40 years. The process is long and tedious: the master maker walks for hours tapping each tree to find a suitable candidate, hollowed out by termites. He will then cut down the tree, strip off the bark and carry it back to the village, to pass even more hours transforming it into an instrument painted and decorated with traditional symbols and shapes. A master maker might produce only about 30 didgeridoos per year.
Sadly but not surprisingly, the BBC notes that non-indigenous industrialists have taken over didgeridoo making to engage in large-scale production. Tourist demands to purchase these indigenous instruments have encouraged many business people to take over the practice and make it into a profitable industry, one that disregards traditional Aboriginal techniques of didgeridoo making. Today, about 90 percent of didgeridoos are made by non-Aboriginal people. They clear-fell the trees and mechanically drill out the hearts.
Aboriginal groups have a hard time competing with the mechanized methods of the industrial producers, and they cannot keep up with tourist demands. Lost on most potential purchases is the fact that construction is a lengthy endeavor, and didgeridoos originally were not meant for mass production or sale. Their makers view them as unique works of Aboriginal art and culture, with value that goes beyond a selling price. The only conceivable way for Aboriginal peoples to compete in the brisk didgeridoo business would be to sell them at a much higher price. But it is doubtful whether tourists would pay a lot of money for the ancient Aboriginal symbol – even if it is the real thing - or buy a mass-produced one that will cost them half the price.
