For three hours every Monday morning, I am at Sisters of St Joseph Aged Care. I spend my time at the hostel, rather than the intensive care facility across the street, helping the many lovely ladies who live there. The sisters, for they are nuns, are of varying health, some being quite capable of moving around with energy, some needing help simply to go for a walk around the garden.
Each week, I do basically the same simple tasks. First, I help set up for Bingo in the library (a very small facility with mainly different Bible translations and religious criticism, as well as a large selection of VHS tapes). Then I help clean up from breakfast and set up for morning tea and morning exercise. The ladies come to the dining area and I join them going through the exercises--these consist of using foam "weights" and thera bands, as well as doing such tasks as standing and sitting, balancing on one leg, holding hands up in the air, touching each finger to your thumb. The amount of exercise each lady is able to do varies greatly. Some are unable to stand at all. Some can't lift the foam. Some simply can't hear the instructions properly. Once exercise ends, I help pour tea or coffee and then join one of the tables for some kind of snack. During this social time, the ladies always ask me how I'm getting on, how I find Australia, and often they ask me about America. They ask me about my family frequently. Today, one of the asked me what I thought of Obama. And then there are a handful who ask me who I am, though I've been there every week for a month and a half. Though, perhaps the most frequent question is how long I'm going to be in Australia.
From here, we all go to the library to play Bingo. I usually sit with either Antoinetta or Margaret Bourke, both of whom have difficulty seeing and hearing. I make sure they put buttons on the right numbers. Usually they just smile and nod thankfully. I take the chocolate prizes to the winners of each game and call out the lucky number. Then, after Bingo, I leave and go to school. Each week begins like this with very little variation.
Today was a bit different. I took Antoinetta for a walk around the garden, one time around the loop until she was too tired to continue. We then sat on the front porch of the hostel by Margaret simply enjoying the sun. These are two of my favorite residents of the hostel. Antoinetta is Italian. Occasionally, she will be mid-sentence when she switches into Italian completely unaware that she has done so. We have to stop her and ask her to repeat frequently. She never remembers me week to week. Margaret is not in good condition. She has a hard time moving around and simply sits with a glazed look the majority of the time. She smiles a lot and clearly enjoys having people around her. She told me today that she didn't know how to play Bingo, though she has played every week I've been going to the hostel. She never remembers me either, though I've helped her play Bingo and exercise many times. Both Antoinetta and Margaret are quite frail.
Then there's Sister Mary who helps set up Bingo every week. She's one of the most energetic of the residents. She doesn't use a walker. She's constantly up and about. She remembers my name each week and is always asking me if I've gotten to travel much of the country--she has a story about traveling from east to west, all the way around Australia, though she never made it to America, which she would have liked to but it's too late now. Today, I found out that Mary is 97. I was shocked. She's in incredible health.
And that's the thing. These women are all quite aged. Many of them joke about this frequently. Once one was waiting for the elevator and she remarked to me, "This lift gets slower every day, just like us." Today, one told me about remembering the song Tennessee Waltz, a song from her youth. Today, I took my camera and asked if I could take some photos. They were all eager to have me do so. They were thrilled. These ladies live in a small home close together. Each week, they go through the same routine. Few of them are capable of leaving the hostel. They're all getting weaker constantly, but they are all high-spirited almost every time I see them. Their bodies may be failing, but their souls seem strong.
I must admit each week I almost dread going in to St Joseph's. I am afraid that one of these days I'm going to go in to do my normal volunteer hours and that I'll look for Sister Margaret or Sister Antoinetta or Mary or Betty or Thecla or someone else only to find that particular lady missing. Being around these joyful women is one of the highlights of my week. I always leave the hostel in a good mood. It's a tough place to serve. Sometimes seeing their frailty breaks my heart bit by bit. But I'm glad I'm there. Because these women are not afraid. And that's incredible to see.
18 April 2011
14 April 2011
Ends and Beginnings
Last night was opening night of the Classic Shorts (the shows I assistant directed). While killing time before the show, I was sitting chatting with Peter, one of the actors. All of a sudden, Adrianna, one of the actresses, walked up to me and hugged me without much of a word. I hugged her back and just smirked at Peter's confused expression. A few minutes later, Mckenzie, another of the actresses, walked up and hugged me without much of a word. Again, I hugged her back and smiled at Peter's confusion. I shrugged my shoulders. Not long after this, Kylie, a third actress, walked up, hugged me, and kissed my cheek. As she walked away, Peter shook his head. "They do know you're going to be here for the whole run, right? What's going on?" I just shrugged.
A bit later, Peter and I had entered the theatre. The set was up and the clock was ticking. It was getting closer and closer to performance time. Out of the blue, Laura, another actress, came up to me and hugged me. Unlike the others, she also said, "Thanks for that lovely card."
"Aha!" Peter exclaimed. "I knew something was going on!" I just laughed and told him he had one waiting in the dressing room.
A bit later, Bobby, one of the actors, thanked me as well.
Not to downplay the sincerity, but I've picked up the tradition of director giving thank you cards to his (or her) actors from my directors back home. Both Dick and Dennis give cards of thanks for each production. It's a kind thing to do, a simple way of saying thanks for working hard. To me, it's not a huge deal. But the little action made these actors happy.
A short time later, the actors and Tash, our stage manager, called Herman (the head director), Wendy (our wonderful set/costume designer), and I down to the stage floor where they presented us each with gifts. They gave me a photo frame which they all signed (and a photo of the whole group is on its way--it just hadn't been printed yet). And see, here's the thing... That was the first I've been given a gift as a director. And suddenly, I realized just how much such a simple thing really does make a person happy. It really made me feel like I was appreciated and that all my work on the show was worth the effort.
And most importantly, throughout all of these exchanges--the physical ones, the material ones, the spoken ones--it occurred to me just how much I have enjoyed working on this production and getting to know these people. Although I still have a good amount of time left in my semester here, I'm feeling a bit melancholic to see these shows coming to a close. I have been working on them since the first day of classes. They have basically defined my Australian school experience thus far. The Australians I've been getting close to thus far are the cast members of these shows.
And just as one thing ends, another begins. I had my Alice in Wonderland auditions a couple days ago. Today, the cast list went up. I'm playing the White Knight, which is a role for which all male auditionees were required to do the monologue. It's a good sized role, complete with a ridiculously long, rambling 2 page song. It's a pretty iconic part.
I was excited to see that several of my friends from the Classic Shorts cast got good roles too. Now, a new show begins where I am no longer in charge. I am back down to earth as an actor. And I get to act with a group of people that I am loving getting to know and be around. I get to be among my friends, as well as around more people that I don't know quite as well. It's exciting. And life is great.
A bit later, Peter and I had entered the theatre. The set was up and the clock was ticking. It was getting closer and closer to performance time. Out of the blue, Laura, another actress, came up to me and hugged me. Unlike the others, she also said, "Thanks for that lovely card."
"Aha!" Peter exclaimed. "I knew something was going on!" I just laughed and told him he had one waiting in the dressing room.
A bit later, Bobby, one of the actors, thanked me as well.
Not to downplay the sincerity, but I've picked up the tradition of director giving thank you cards to his (or her) actors from my directors back home. Both Dick and Dennis give cards of thanks for each production. It's a kind thing to do, a simple way of saying thanks for working hard. To me, it's not a huge deal. But the little action made these actors happy.
A short time later, the actors and Tash, our stage manager, called Herman (the head director), Wendy (our wonderful set/costume designer), and I down to the stage floor where they presented us each with gifts. They gave me a photo frame which they all signed (and a photo of the whole group is on its way--it just hadn't been printed yet). And see, here's the thing... That was the first I've been given a gift as a director. And suddenly, I realized just how much such a simple thing really does make a person happy. It really made me feel like I was appreciated and that all my work on the show was worth the effort.
And most importantly, throughout all of these exchanges--the physical ones, the material ones, the spoken ones--it occurred to me just how much I have enjoyed working on this production and getting to know these people. Although I still have a good amount of time left in my semester here, I'm feeling a bit melancholic to see these shows coming to a close. I have been working on them since the first day of classes. They have basically defined my Australian school experience thus far. The Australians I've been getting close to thus far are the cast members of these shows.
And just as one thing ends, another begins. I had my Alice in Wonderland auditions a couple days ago. Today, the cast list went up. I'm playing the White Knight, which is a role for which all male auditionees were required to do the monologue. It's a good sized role, complete with a ridiculously long, rambling 2 page song. It's a pretty iconic part.
I was excited to see that several of my friends from the Classic Shorts cast got good roles too. Now, a new show begins where I am no longer in charge. I am back down to earth as an actor. And I get to act with a group of people that I am loving getting to know and be around. I get to be among my friends, as well as around more people that I don't know quite as well. It's exciting. And life is great.
03 April 2011
"Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream, if you see a crocodile, don't forget to scream!"
Public transportation in Sydney is highly frustrating. Buses are quite rarely on time. Sometimes, they're very early. Sometimes, they're very late. Sometimes, for whatever reason, they never show up. Let me give an example of what may occur when using Sydney public transportation.
It's entirely possible that a person might go out to the bus stop right next to their house five minutes before the bus is supposed to arrive only to wait for twenty minutes before deciding to take the ten minute walk up the hill to the larger road that has six different bus routes crossing it. It is then possible for none of those six buses to arrive for another thirty minutes, causing this person to hail a cab that is the only cab that has shown up in the last fifteen minutes. Then, upon being dropped off at a different bus stop in town and rushing onto a bus, it is entirely possible that the driver of that bus may decide to go about 10 mph throughout the entire route. Meanwhile, it is entirely possible that every person over the age of 65 who is incapable of moving quickly will have lined up at nearly every stop along said route--one person at each stop, so that the bus is constantly having to stop. After all of this, it is possible for a person to finally arrive at the train station and find themselves on a train that randomly stops twice in between stations. Then, as the train comes into the station the person was going to, it's entirely possible that said person may receive a phone call from the friends they're meeting informing that the bus that needs to be caught from that final train station has arrived five minutes early and that driver is unwilling to wait those five minutes for the last person, thus causing that bus to be missed. This person then finally arrives at their destination over an hour later than intended, three hours after having left home.
I'm so glad this is yet to happen to me and my roommates--oh wait. It did. That was how our Saturday trip to Featherdale Wildlife Reserve began. But we did eventually get to Featherdale. Was it worth all the effort? Hell yes. You see, upon entering the reserve, we immediately saw all sorts of animals that one only sees in Australia. All sorts of fantastic birds, massive lizards, flying foxes (bats), koalas, wombats, kangaroos, emus, a massive crocodile, Tasmanian devils, dingos, and penguins. And that's just to name a few. And the best part? Most of the kangaroos and emus we free roaming through a large section of the park. As in, they're just running around where you're walking. You get to pet them and feed them. It was fantastic. And surreal.
Also, I've officially been in the same room as the deadliest snake in the world--yikes!
And that croc was freakin' massive. And there was an albino kangaroo. And one of the Tasmanian devils kept running around on this path it had created in its pin. It kept running and running and running in this big circle for the entirety of the few hours we were there. I got to pet a joey in a bag (used in place of a pouch for the orphan joey).
Through all of this, I took several digital photos which I'll put up on Facebook in the near future. I also took a full roll of film at Featherdale--really looking forward to developing/printing it.
By the time we left Featherdale, I was pretty tired. We ended up with a bit of a different group than normal--Nick, Ryan, Pat, Lainey, Paul, Toby, Sam, and myself. We went to a mall together, where we wandered about for a bit. Then, Nick, Ryan, and I headed home. On the way, we came across an ice cream truck that was playing Greensleeves (totally random, but rather awesome). Then we got home where Ross was hosting a good-sized party for Ilie's birthday--Illie's his Hungarian girlfriend, not sure I've mentioned her before. As Ross ran around making sure everything was ready, Santiago arrived back home--he'd been in Melbourne all week on a business trip. I won't go into detail, but a large yelling match occurred between Ross and Santi. Sigh. This is a fairly regular occurrence and there doesn't seem to be a good solution to fix the troubles that occasionally brew. I suspect I'll be interrogated by Erin and Kim on Monday, as I witnessed the whole event. Sigh. Why can't we all just get along?
Anywho, the barbie was great. Ross made lots of lamb, pork, and chicken. Ilie had made some incredible potato salad. The company were mostly Illie's family, but some of Ross's as well. He had sparklers and Nick and I took a couple down into the darkness of the miniature bush behind the house with those as our only lights. Intense darkness and sparklers is great fun. During all this, Dom joined us and I asked him if he'd had a good day. "No, mate," he responded. "To be perfectly honest, it was shit. But it happens. Tomorrow will be better, you know?"
A bit later, we turned in for the night. And that's that.
Oh, and the quote that is this blog's title is a song that Ross's daughter Danielle was singing to her youngest daughter. It's the Australian version. It makes me laugh.
It's entirely possible that a person might go out to the bus stop right next to their house five minutes before the bus is supposed to arrive only to wait for twenty minutes before deciding to take the ten minute walk up the hill to the larger road that has six different bus routes crossing it. It is then possible for none of those six buses to arrive for another thirty minutes, causing this person to hail a cab that is the only cab that has shown up in the last fifteen minutes. Then, upon being dropped off at a different bus stop in town and rushing onto a bus, it is entirely possible that the driver of that bus may decide to go about 10 mph throughout the entire route. Meanwhile, it is entirely possible that every person over the age of 65 who is incapable of moving quickly will have lined up at nearly every stop along said route--one person at each stop, so that the bus is constantly having to stop. After all of this, it is possible for a person to finally arrive at the train station and find themselves on a train that randomly stops twice in between stations. Then, as the train comes into the station the person was going to, it's entirely possible that said person may receive a phone call from the friends they're meeting informing that the bus that needs to be caught from that final train station has arrived five minutes early and that driver is unwilling to wait those five minutes for the last person, thus causing that bus to be missed. This person then finally arrives at their destination over an hour later than intended, three hours after having left home.
I'm so glad this is yet to happen to me and my roommates--oh wait. It did. That was how our Saturday trip to Featherdale Wildlife Reserve began. But we did eventually get to Featherdale. Was it worth all the effort? Hell yes. You see, upon entering the reserve, we immediately saw all sorts of animals that one only sees in Australia. All sorts of fantastic birds, massive lizards, flying foxes (bats), koalas, wombats, kangaroos, emus, a massive crocodile, Tasmanian devils, dingos, and penguins. And that's just to name a few. And the best part? Most of the kangaroos and emus we free roaming through a large section of the park. As in, they're just running around where you're walking. You get to pet them and feed them. It was fantastic. And surreal.
Also, I've officially been in the same room as the deadliest snake in the world--yikes!
And that croc was freakin' massive. And there was an albino kangaroo. And one of the Tasmanian devils kept running around on this path it had created in its pin. It kept running and running and running in this big circle for the entirety of the few hours we were there. I got to pet a joey in a bag (used in place of a pouch for the orphan joey).
Through all of this, I took several digital photos which I'll put up on Facebook in the near future. I also took a full roll of film at Featherdale--really looking forward to developing/printing it.
By the time we left Featherdale, I was pretty tired. We ended up with a bit of a different group than normal--Nick, Ryan, Pat, Lainey, Paul, Toby, Sam, and myself. We went to a mall together, where we wandered about for a bit. Then, Nick, Ryan, and I headed home. On the way, we came across an ice cream truck that was playing Greensleeves (totally random, but rather awesome). Then we got home where Ross was hosting a good-sized party for Ilie's birthday--Illie's his Hungarian girlfriend, not sure I've mentioned her before. As Ross ran around making sure everything was ready, Santiago arrived back home--he'd been in Melbourne all week on a business trip. I won't go into detail, but a large yelling match occurred between Ross and Santi. Sigh. This is a fairly regular occurrence and there doesn't seem to be a good solution to fix the troubles that occasionally brew. I suspect I'll be interrogated by Erin and Kim on Monday, as I witnessed the whole event. Sigh. Why can't we all just get along?
Anywho, the barbie was great. Ross made lots of lamb, pork, and chicken. Ilie had made some incredible potato salad. The company were mostly Illie's family, but some of Ross's as well. He had sparklers and Nick and I took a couple down into the darkness of the miniature bush behind the house with those as our only lights. Intense darkness and sparklers is great fun. During all this, Dom joined us and I asked him if he'd had a good day. "No, mate," he responded. "To be perfectly honest, it was shit. But it happens. Tomorrow will be better, you know?"
A bit later, we turned in for the night. And that's that.
Oh, and the quote that is this blog's title is a song that Ross's daughter Danielle was singing to her youngest daughter. It's the Australian version. It makes me laugh.
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