Greetings again, Intergalactic Council.
In my latest set of Earth adventures, I’ve been making what the humans call ‘undercover’ visits to various disability support centres across Adelaide. This essentially involves blending in and observing without revealing my true identity. Easier said than done when your skin is turquoise and you’re seven feet tall. But with some disguise and an inexplicable local fondness for what they call ‘costumes,’ I’ve managed.
During my visits, I noticed that many of these centres were identified as an NDIS provider for people with disabilities. Again, NDIS stands for National Disability Insurance Scheme, a program designed to fund support services for individuals with disabilities. The level of coordination and collaboration between these various entities is impressive, to say the least.
One centre I visited had a space filled with bright colours and various objects. It was here that I observed something the Earthlings refer to as ‘art therapy.’ Individuals were expressing their emotions and experiences through colours and shapes. I must confess, I was tempted to join in and share some depictions of Zorblatt IX, our home planet. Alas, the limited colour palette didn’t quite capture our luminous sunsets.
Another facility offered what they call positive behaviour support services based in Adelaide. These services aim to improve the quality of life for people with disabilities by addressing and altering challenging behaviours. The patience, understanding, and creative problem-solving I witnessed were truly commendable.
I’ve also been trying to understand human methods of relaxation. They have an activity they call ‘yoga,’ where they contort their bodies into various poses. They say it brings them peace and clarity, but for me, it only resulted in a surprising and rather distressing level of flexibility.
While I’m successfully learning about Earth’s disability support structures, I still struggle with some of their customs. Just the other day, I was handed a small, circular object they referred to as a ‘cookie.’ Apparently, it’s customary to eat it rather than use it as a communication device.
Until my next report,
Zylar.