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.
31 March 2011
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).
:)
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).
:)
28 March 2011
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.
19 March 2011
Kissing Point (and more!) with 3 lovely ladies
Today was rainy. The world was soaked repeatedly on and off all day. It would come in great rushing spurts all of a sudden. To be caught in one of these was to be drenched. And of course, today I had plans in the city, where there was not to be constant cover. The weather disappointed me, initially. But I still packed my bag and made my way to town, meeting up with Alessandra on the way. Soon after, Tess and Rachel joined us at the Queen Victoria Building and the four of us made our way to Paddy's Market. Here, we split up.
I meandered around the place, enjoying the frantic nature of the place--people were scurrying everywhich direction, the shops were packed to the gills with all kinds of things (mostly touristy things, but still interesting). The place was crazy, but kind of fascinating. I found myself eyeballing shoes. See, I only brought my sandals and some Rockport sneakers to Australia. I've been having Converse withdrawal. So when I found my way to the second floor where it was much more like an American mall, I was quite sad that the store I first entered was way over-priced (the cheapest shoes I saw were $90!). But then, walking back towards the elevator and I looked up and saw a grand sight: one floor up, there before me was a Converse Outlet. I made my way up the escalator and entered the store. After much debate, I settled on a pair of Deep Lichen (read: forest green) high tops.
Rejoining the girls, I was amused when Rachel said, "Converse? I'd not have marked you as a Converse wearer!" See, my entire fashion sense here is completely different than at home. At home, dark jeans, mostly dark colored t-shirts or button up shirts, and casual shoes are my regular attire. Here, I'm almost always in shorts and bright colored t-shirts. And of course, before today, I only had two sets of shoes. Oh, and I wear my Busch Gardens hat here. A lot. It's kinda wonderful. But anywho, I now have some new Converse that are wonderful. And the day could have ended there and been a good, successful day, but it was only just beginning.
Wandering across the street into Chinatown, we soon found a small shop where we bought pastries and sat down to chat. We took silly pictures--most notably outside of a strange pink stuffed animal store. We found ourselves caught in one of the sudden rain spurts (fortunately, we had 3 umbrellas with us, so we were able to stay relatively dry). And we decided it was time to go take a ferry--having unlimited bus, train, and ferry passes is freakin' wonderful; most useful things in this city--just sayin'. Thus, to Circular Quay, we made our way. Throughout all of this, by the way, I was carrying my film camera. I took a handful of pictures, most of specific moments that I had to move quick to get shots and, in all likelihood, the photos won't come out. But there was an adventurous quality to shooting some film moment to moment, knowing the lighting was low, the rain was going to cause issues, and most of my targets were moving people. I took shots quickly and we shall see if they work out... in a few months.
We had just missed the ferry to Manly, which is where we were planning to go. Thus, we found ourselves looking at other potential destinations--after all, the journey's more important than the destination, right? Upon seeing the name "Kissing Point" as an option, we knew we'd found the place for us. I mean, where else would one guy and three girls go on a day out and about? (And of course, this was our running joke of the day). Thus, with no knowledge of the place aside from the name, we got onto a ferry. Mid-travel, I put my arm around Rachel and said, "Hey, Rachel. I know we're headed to Kissing Point, but we could bring it to us right now, if we wanted." I grinned big and cheesy and got some laughs.
And then the ferry was arriving at the little dock that marked Kissing Point. We got off the boat to see a woman sitting, smoking a hookah, minding her own business. We knew we were in a good place. We followed the dock to the shore, a small beach with lots of shells and seagulls. We took some pictures and enjoyed the peaceful land--it rained a bit again, but not hard enough to be obnoxious. A path swerved into Kissing Point Park, but we decided not to investigate today. Discussions were made about how perfect this little beach would be for a picnic. And then the ferry was coming back and we were heading back to Circular Quay once more.
Mid-travel, I put my arm around Rachel and said, "Hey, Rachel. I know we just left Kissing Point, but we could bring it back to us right now, if we wanted." I grinned big and cheesy and got some laughs again and some eye rolls. Docked once more, we headed to the Rocks in search of dinner. We finally ended up at a small hotel, eating good food. Then, Alessandra and I waved goodbye to Tess and Rachel and we caught a bus heading back to Drummoyne. The bus journey brought us back to discussion about my new Converse and I told the story of how I came to own my first Converse, which lead into a walk with a lengthy conversation about my life in the last few years and part of why I'm so glad I'm in Australia right now. Then, I returned home, having had a day full of Oz, that wonderful fantasy world I've discovered here, as well as having had a day that closed with conversation reminding me of the real world. It was a good day. My one regret is that I did not, at some point, blurt out, "If this isn't nice, I don't know what is!"
Well, you know what? Better late than never. I'm in Australia with some wonderful people and if this isn't nice, I don't know what is. That's all I'm sayin'.
I meandered around the place, enjoying the frantic nature of the place--people were scurrying everywhich direction, the shops were packed to the gills with all kinds of things (mostly touristy things, but still interesting). The place was crazy, but kind of fascinating. I found myself eyeballing shoes. See, I only brought my sandals and some Rockport sneakers to Australia. I've been having Converse withdrawal. So when I found my way to the second floor where it was much more like an American mall, I was quite sad that the store I first entered was way over-priced (the cheapest shoes I saw were $90!). But then, walking back towards the elevator and I looked up and saw a grand sight: one floor up, there before me was a Converse Outlet. I made my way up the escalator and entered the store. After much debate, I settled on a pair of Deep Lichen (read: forest green) high tops.
Rejoining the girls, I was amused when Rachel said, "Converse? I'd not have marked you as a Converse wearer!" See, my entire fashion sense here is completely different than at home. At home, dark jeans, mostly dark colored t-shirts or button up shirts, and casual shoes are my regular attire. Here, I'm almost always in shorts and bright colored t-shirts. And of course, before today, I only had two sets of shoes. Oh, and I wear my Busch Gardens hat here. A lot. It's kinda wonderful. But anywho, I now have some new Converse that are wonderful. And the day could have ended there and been a good, successful day, but it was only just beginning.
Wandering across the street into Chinatown, we soon found a small shop where we bought pastries and sat down to chat. We took silly pictures--most notably outside of a strange pink stuffed animal store. We found ourselves caught in one of the sudden rain spurts (fortunately, we had 3 umbrellas with us, so we were able to stay relatively dry). And we decided it was time to go take a ferry--having unlimited bus, train, and ferry passes is freakin' wonderful; most useful things in this city--just sayin'. Thus, to Circular Quay, we made our way. Throughout all of this, by the way, I was carrying my film camera. I took a handful of pictures, most of specific moments that I had to move quick to get shots and, in all likelihood, the photos won't come out. But there was an adventurous quality to shooting some film moment to moment, knowing the lighting was low, the rain was going to cause issues, and most of my targets were moving people. I took shots quickly and we shall see if they work out... in a few months.
We had just missed the ferry to Manly, which is where we were planning to go. Thus, we found ourselves looking at other potential destinations--after all, the journey's more important than the destination, right? Upon seeing the name "Kissing Point" as an option, we knew we'd found the place for us. I mean, where else would one guy and three girls go on a day out and about? (And of course, this was our running joke of the day). Thus, with no knowledge of the place aside from the name, we got onto a ferry. Mid-travel, I put my arm around Rachel and said, "Hey, Rachel. I know we're headed to Kissing Point, but we could bring it to us right now, if we wanted." I grinned big and cheesy and got some laughs.
And then the ferry was arriving at the little dock that marked Kissing Point. We got off the boat to see a woman sitting, smoking a hookah, minding her own business. We knew we were in a good place. We followed the dock to the shore, a small beach with lots of shells and seagulls. We took some pictures and enjoyed the peaceful land--it rained a bit again, but not hard enough to be obnoxious. A path swerved into Kissing Point Park, but we decided not to investigate today. Discussions were made about how perfect this little beach would be for a picnic. And then the ferry was coming back and we were heading back to Circular Quay once more.
Mid-travel, I put my arm around Rachel and said, "Hey, Rachel. I know we just left Kissing Point, but we could bring it back to us right now, if we wanted." I grinned big and cheesy and got some laughs again and some eye rolls. Docked once more, we headed to the Rocks in search of dinner. We finally ended up at a small hotel, eating good food. Then, Alessandra and I waved goodbye to Tess and Rachel and we caught a bus heading back to Drummoyne. The bus journey brought us back to discussion about my new Converse and I told the story of how I came to own my first Converse, which lead into a walk with a lengthy conversation about my life in the last few years and part of why I'm so glad I'm in Australia right now. Then, I returned home, having had a day full of Oz, that wonderful fantasy world I've discovered here, as well as having had a day that closed with conversation reminding me of the real world. It was a good day. My one regret is that I did not, at some point, blurt out, "If this isn't nice, I don't know what is!"
In explanation, I leave you with this quote from Kurt Vonnegut:
"And now I want to tell you about my late Uncle Alex. He was my father’s kid brother, a childless graduate of Harvard who was an honest life insurance salesman in Indianapolis. He was well-read and wise. And his principal complaint about other human beings was that they so seldom noticed it when they were happy. So when we were drinking lemonade under an apple tree in the summer, say, and talking lazily about this and that, almost buzzing like honeybees, Uncle Alex would suddenly interrupt the agreeable blather to exclaim, If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is. So I do the same now, and so do my kids and grandkids. And I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is."
Well, you know what? Better late than never. I'm in Australia with some wonderful people and if this isn't nice, I don't know what is. That's all I'm sayin'.
17 March 2011
St. Patrick's Day.
I found a hat. It’s shiny. And green. And it’s a bowler. This was just after purchasing some amazing ice cream—the flavor? Sunshine Mango. It was truly amazing—several of the friends I was with tried bites and the critics were in agreement: I’d picked a winner. This was the beginning of how I spent my St Patrick’s Day evening.
To give a little back story, flash back with me to lunch this afternoon. I was just eating my corned beef sandwich (perfect meat choice for St Patrick’s Day!) when my phone buzzed. “Huh! A text?” I thought. And I discovered that Rachel was suggesting a journey to a pub in The Rocks for St Patrick’s Day. In that moment, I thought, “Sounds like an adventure!” And so I agreed. Then I asked who else was going… and Rachel didn’t really have an answer, but she told me to spread the word.
Well, I talked to a couple people who weren’t really that interested, but figured that didn’t matter too much, that Rachel would gather a decent group. Thus, I headed to Circular Quay this evening to find out whom I was meeting. And the group was great: Rachel, Tess, Liisa, Kara, Toby, and me. I must admit, I thought of my old group of friends back at Milligan, those wonderful girls I affectionately once called The Harem.
We were all quite relaxed and out to have a good time and that we did. We went to a pub—no worries, we all kept our bargain and didn’t drink anything with alcohol; though Kara stumbled a bit right by the bouncer and almost got denied entry because he thought she was drunk; quite funny if you know Kara—where we danced and mingled. A live musician played several classic songs, which we generally sang along with (as did most the crowd). Drunken guys hit on the girls some, but it was all harmless fun. The music was loud. The crowd was tight. And we all had a blast.
So, yes. I spent the evening of St Patrick’s Day at a pub in Sydney. And I got a shiny hat. That I wore all evening. Total win situation.
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