Canberra: The City of Boredom (according to most Australians)

Canberra. The capital city of Australia. A city that almost all Australians dislike. A place that, when brought up, an Aussie will generally say, "Canberra? Why would you want to go there? So boring." With all that in mind, imagine how thrilled I was to be giving up the majority of one of my few precious weekends to make the trip to the political capital.

En route, we stopped a Bundanoon, the first city in Australia to "ban" bottled water. Sounds thrilling, doesn't it? I mean, this city has... get this... fancy water fountains! And they sell... aluminum water bottles. Shocking! They even have Camel Bak as a sponsor... Oh and all of those aluminum bottles are extremely overpriced. And the citizens of Bundanoon are all crazy about their achievement. Now, I will grant that it's a nice move in the way of environmental awareness, in the whole Green movement--except when asked about if they're taking any other extra cautions for Green awareness, it turns out they aren't even trying to be part of that movement. They've banned bottled water and, for now, that's the only thing they're doing as a city. Also, the city is tiny. It's not really a city. It's a town. And they're all extremely proud... and frankly, they seemed rather insane and cultish and attention seeking. I think the move is an interesting and good step in an environmental direction, but they seemed to be doing it more for publicity and tourism. Lame.

After that short stop, we continued into Canberra where we went to Parliament Hill--their Parliament building is literally built into a hill. Epic. We sat in one of the debate rooms and talked to a clerk who told us about some of the processes of government, though she avoided all questions concerning her own opinion on anything. That was kind of interesting, but not really. Cramming into elevators with 26 other people (mostly lovely ladies) was far more fun. Just sayin'.

But then we went into the larger senate room, where the Senate was in session. We sat down and watched the wonderfully fascinating event that is Australian politics--and I'm not being sarcastic. Let me simply write this as a dialogue.

Senator Barnaby Joyce: I just want you to answer my question, minister. It's not even my question! It's their question! [he indicates the audience to his left... my group... we're Americans, though he does not know this] It's them you're affecting! These people want an answer, minister! We'll stay here all day and tomorrow and the next day until you stand up and answer the question.

[Senator Joyce continues rambling for five minutes--the minister does not respond]

Joyce: Minister, I know you can hear me. I know you have many deficiencies, minister, but deafness is not one of them! Hello? Hello? Wake up, minister! Wake up! Wakey, wakey, anybody home? No? Nobody home? Minister, come on and stand up and answer the people's question! Come on, we just want you to stand up, Steve-er, minister.

[more time passes with more rambling]

Joyce: Minister, if you sit there like that any longer, we'll need to get a gnome hat to put on you and move you to the garden!

[Joyce sits. Senator Not-Joyce stands]

Not-Joyce: Hear, hear! A garden gnome! You'd make a good one, minister! And it would put you to good use! Good use! Now, I agree with Senator Joyce. You need to answer his questions.

Anywho, you get the point. Not-Joyce talked for a while. Joyce got back up again. They just kept going and going. And Minister Steve never did stand up--at least not in the 30 minutes we watched. At one point, Joyce straight up called the government party stupid. Australian politics are far more entertaining to watch than American ones. And Australians hate their government! It's glorious.

Then we went and talked to an Aboriginal woman who lives in a tent outside Parliament protesting for Aboriginal rights and a return of Aboriginal land. And then we went to the hostel, ate, played games, and told stories.

The next day, we went to the National Portrait Gallery (good! especially the black and white photography), the National Museum of Australia (eh, okay. all history stuff and laid out weirdly), the National Gallery (absolutely fantastic, reminded me of the Pompidou and the Tate Modern--enjoyed the Pollocks, Rothkos, Picassos, Stills, and more a lot), and the National War Memorial (very well done, similar to the Imperial War Museum in London). I took several photos at the War Memorial around the inscriptions of names--several portrait shots of friends.

Then, we got on the bus to go back home. (Now there's a weird feeling. I'm calling Sydney home.) The bus ride was a lot of fun. Chilling with Alessandra, Tess, Rachel, and Nick mostly. But of course, given being on a bus, others were in and out of the conversation as well. At one point, several of us clambered into one set of seats, all squishing together. It ended up being like 2 guys and 6 or 7 girls squished into that one seat. Epic. We took pictures. And then we returned to our separate seats once more, though Allana decided to come lay across Alessandra and me, which resulted in more pictures.

I'm so glad to be getting comfortable enough with these people to be ridiculous. And I get to be ridiculous a lot. It's glorious. The Canberra trip ended up being a ton of fun, though I do think the city itself had little to do with that. Mostly, it was fun because of the people--though I really did love the National Gallery a whole lot. And then we came home and I got up the next day and..... well, go read the post about my trip to the Opera House and you'll know more, as chronologically it takes place after this post (but I had to turn in a blog post as an assignment, so I wrote about the Opera House trip for the assignment, causing this post to get overlooked for a few days).

:)

I went to the Sydney Opera House. Be jealous.

There I was, standing on the steps of the Sydney Opera House when all of a sudden: DOUBLE RAINBOW: All the way across the sky. I kid you not. It consisted of two complete arches--one of which I could clearly see hitting the ground just beneath the Botanical Gardens. These two rainbows were the best rainbows I have ever seen in person. A bit later, everyone's attention was drawn to the sky once again. Large bats had replaced the double rainbow, flying overhead. Meanwhile, I sat down eating some fish and chips and drinking the Australian energy drink V. And that was how I began my visit to the most famous opera house in the world.

I'd bought my ticket to go see Tim Minchin, an Australian musician and comedian of whom I'm quite fond, about a month ago as soon as I saw that it was on sale. Fearing tickets would sell out quickly, I bought mine without really seeing if there was anyone else interested in going. This turned out to be a valid fear as the show quickly sold out soon thereafter. Thus it was that, after finishing my food and drink, I walked alone to the doors of the illogically structured architectural wonder and promptly found my way to the loo. As if the double rainbow, the bats, and the massive arches of the outer shell of the building were not enough, I knew I was in a truly special place as soon as I saw the sinks. A long white counter with dips in it stretched across the length under the sinks. The water sprayed directly onto the counter, flowing down into the dips. This, in itself, was a fascinating design element. And then I went into the concert hall.

I stood staring at the immensely high ceiling, the thousands of seats around the hall, the wooden walls, and the brilliant lights shining down onto the stage. It was only after this that it clicked where the usher had taken me: nearly dead center, in the second row. I sat down, finding out that even the seats were structurally wonderful. In my opinion, there are three criteria that make up good seats: they must be comfortable, aesthetically pleasing, and, most importantly, they must leave plenty of legroom. Somehow, the red-cushioned, wooden-backed seats of the Opera House concert hall managed to fit all three criteria.

But enough about the architecture and design. I was there for a show, not to marvel at the incredible infrastructure of the venue. The orchestra filled up their seats and a violinist came downstage right, a brilliant white light shining on her as she played a solo that gradually built up. Then, Minchin's voice rang out: "Yeaaaaaah. I'm in a cage!" And a black veil that had been covering a large box on stage about 5 feet in front of me was removed to reveal the ginger-haired man himself. The show consisted of a fun mix of music and comedic gags, making fun of the audacity of a comedian playing with a symphony orchestra in a gigantic arena style concert hall. Foul language abounded throughout the show. Minchin made fun of religions, races, women, and just about everything in between--though perhaps his most frequent target was himself. I've known much of his music for a long time now and so I knew what to expect. He's offensive but hilarious. And I'm fairly sure the man really loves the world--that's why he makes fun of it so much.

Tim is Australian, after all. Part of the job description of Australian appears to be: "Make fun of those people or things that you love." And I saw that mantra carried out thousand fold at this concert. Minchin kept poking fun at the conductor--at one point he took the baton and went into a discussion about how it kept making him think the conductor was Harry Potter. But enough about the humorous side of the show. After all, Tim Minchin does have a dark side too.

During the show's interval, Minchin changed out of the white shirt he'd worn at the beginning. When he returned to the stage, he wore a black shirt. During a few introductory words, he told us all that, while the first half was all fun and games, the second half, as indicated by his wardrobe change, would be much more serious. He then preceded to "accidentally" mess up the next song humorously. But here's the thing: even though there were still plenty of laughs throughout the second half of the shows, Minchin didn't lie. The songs got darker and a bit more serious. While still quite funny, almost all of them had a good deal of subtext to them. And they got me thinking.

Minchin sang about the world, living in it and loving it for being the world we live in. He sang about the difficulty of creating something beautiful in the modern world. He sang about loved ones being important. I laughed and smiled a lot during the show. I was seated in an incredible building, in an incredible city, watching an incredible performance of a comedian and an orchestra. And I found myself thinking about home.

I love Australia. I've been here for a little over a month now. I'm making good friends and getting to do all sorts of wonderful things. I have a public transport pass that allows me to take as many buses, trains, and ferries as I want during my stay. I've been to several great museums, I've traveled to Canberra, and I get to travel to the Outback and New Zealand. I've been working on several awesome theatre pieces, having wonderful opportunities unlike any I've ever had back in Tennessee. But Tim Minchin hit a chord within me as he sang about the importance of home.

"You will learn someday that wherever you are and whatever you face, these are the people who'll make you feel safe in this world."

The song these lyrics come from, White Wine In The Sun, has been my favorite of Tim's for as long as I've been a fan of his. It was the first song I ever heard by him, but tonight was the first time it really felt true to me. The song continues, discussing that, even when you're nine thousand miles from home, your loved ones will still be waiting for you to come back. Well, I am quite literally nine thousand miles from home--more than that, actually. Thinking about that almost makes me a bit melancholic. Tim's words made me miss friends and family.

But that's part of what this trip's all about. I have lived in the same place with the same people for twenty years. It was time to get away from home. It was time to open myself up to new things. And Australia is providing that wonderfully. I'm having a blast. I'm getting to see incredible things and visit incredible places. I'm even getting to wash my hands in aesthetically pleasing sinks. But most importantly, I'm getting to forge wonderful new relationships that I'm convinced will last for many years to come. And all the while, there are people waiting for me back home. Knowing that's true is a wonderful feeling. But for now, I'm in Australia and these new relationships are just starting. And I can already tell: by the time I get back to Tennessee, I'm going to feel like I've left another home nine thousand miles away. Despite the melancholic tinge, that's going to be a beautiful feeling. That feeling will probably be almost as amazing as a double rainbow.

PS. After the show, I got a 50 cent cone at Macca's, which is Australian for McDonald's. Yum.

PPS. I'll post about the Canberra trip sometime in detail. It was epic. We watched a senator call another senator a garden gnome.