Transit Edition

As a special request (see I take requests!) this is a special transit edition. I think it's actually worth writing about because Melbourne has a sophisticated, yet confusing system. The buses, trains and trams all run on a system called myki. When you board any of them you touch your card to bright green sensors. Well, for being so sophisticated they give NO written explanation for how this works. I knew I needed a card but couldn't get one from the machine. Luckily the people at the station helped me out. Nicholas (my new best friend for the next 30 minutes) stayed by me for the "illegal" of my journey and even got my card for me. When I expressed worry that I would get in trouble going one stop a woman told me, "you're clearly a tourist, use stereotypes to your advantage!" Once getting my card all sorted out (and don't worry, I paid for my previous journey!) I was all set.
Waiting for a tram is weird as all heck. You stand in the middle of the road next to a very small fence and a poll.

This station has a little hut-- but most don't.

The advantage of myki is made clear then as all doors are utilized and getting on is very quick. What is unclear to me is how they make sure everyone pays. Except for a small sign that reminds people to "not be a freeloader" it seems its up to people to be honest. Yet again even that doesn't necessarily work... My balance stood at -12 cents for a while. So it seems to work, (as long as you're trustworthy and already know how it works.)

Hope that was informational!

My most common form of transportation is walking, and my most common route is to the train station. This walk has a few great highlights along it... or maybe I'm just very easily entertained (that's probably more likely.)

But, regardless, here are some pictures:

This American themed hotel's selling points are an all you can eat buffet, gambling, sports, and a bar. It is also next to the only fast food restaurant for quite a radius.

Almost all mail boxes have a sign that says something about not wanting junk mail. It seems like these people now want it.

This is my favorite. I have yet to walk past this "garage" without laughing.

Hope everyone is well,

(This might say Hattie, but I'm sticking with my original thought.)

Daniel, Danny, Dan

One of the consequences of having to meet everyone you talk to is that I search for conversation topics as soon as I see them. This sometimes causes me to find connections in things that just aren't there. For instance, last week when I was in the airport I saw someone wearing a Pittsburgh Pirates hat and all I could think was-- ("we both have some sort of connection to Pennsylvania.") I also got overly sentimental about the woman a few in front of me who removed her shoes to go through security ("I also remove my shoes! Are we the same nationality?") Luckily I didn't have to use any of those simulating conversation starters- but I did meet a lot of new people while having a very eventful day.
My day played out as if I was in some indie film I'm not nearly cool enough to understand. I got an early ride to the airport and had a rather uneventful flight to Tasmania. I talked a bit to the teacher sitting next to me but my main focus was on her 5 month old baby-- Daniel. Harkening back to my successful walk to the airport in New Zealand I decided to not pay the $30 to take the shuttle and just walk.

However things didn't go nearly as smoothly. There wasn't a trace of a sidewalk and I was walking down a 4 lane highway with about 4 feet of shoulder. One of the consequences of this was that I would frequently run across flattened (or in the case of a gigantic kangaroo-- not so flattened) roadkill. I'm sure I looked ridiculous walking on a highway with a little bag rolling behind me, and many people were not so shy in telling me that I did. It was okay for the first two hours but then my shoulder disappeared and was replaced with a cliff. Luckily there was about 2 feet of concrete running down the middle of the road so I was able to walk down that-- unfortunately that started to slope and soon I was walking on a few feet of very steep median. I was just over 3 or 3.5 hours in when I heard someone shouting. Being focused on not slipping and tumbling into traffic I didn't realize they were calling out to me. It was a taxi who asked if I needed a ride. I said that I would be fine (as taxis here are so expensive) but he insisted, telling me he wouldn't charge me and he was headed into the city anyway.

Danny, the taxi driver, was from Liverpool. On the short journey into Hobart (I was so close!) he pointed out all the sites, and even offered to drive me up to Doug's house. I didn't want him going to any more trouble so was dropped off at the docks. I had barely sat down to rest for just a bit when an older man came off one of the big old sailing ships and came and sat next to me (note: how does this always happen?)

He asked me if I would help him win a bet. He told me all the boys working on the ship had bet going on who could get the most girls to wave and say hello to them. Supposedly a man named Dan was losing quite badly, so I played along and shouted hello to him. Leon (the older man) chatted to me for a bit afterwards and then went back on. A bit later another sailor came over and asked me if I'd like a cup of coffee (an offer I cannot refuse.) So that's how within 10 minutes of arriving to Hobart after walking for 3 hours down a highway and getting a lift I ended up sipping coffee on a old sailing vessel. I stayed for a few cups chatting with everyone before saying goodbye and starting my walk to Doug's. I stopped by a succulent shop to get a small gift and then made my journey up a path-- it got pretty steep. After another two hours of that my feet were killing me and it was dark so I was quite happy when I heard a car beep and saw Doug had come out looking for me (I felt a bit like a lost dog.)

I got into the house, met his chickens (who he refers to as "his girls") and then walked into the room where I was to be staying where there were about 100 balloons. I guess when he was in Melbourne a group of his friends got together and blew up hundreds of balloons. It was as if I was in an adult sized ball pit-- so much fun. Unfortunately they did have a dangerous side as the night before Doug gave his roommate a black eye while playing in them.

We went into town and ate at a Vietnamese restaurant with one of his friends who plays saxophone. He was a really nice guy who was really interested in what words we say differently. (For instance the word "fire" when said with an American accent we both agreed sounded much more like a call to action.) We went to a sort of get together and from there went with a small group to go eat gluten free ice cream sundaes while we discussed cultural differences among other things. I found out something there that honestly blew my mind-- in Australia there's compulsory voting. You get a fine and can be given a prison sentence if you don't vote. That's crazy to me, but really interesting. Sort of like my day and this tree's bark.
(I realize that wasn't a very good transition, but look at this bark!)

Drumsticks

One thing that has taken the most getting used to this year is the amount of free time that I have. (I live a charmed life, I know.) Coming from the busiest year of my life straight into this makes me do odd things like taking hours to make sculptures out of drumsticks. (I just knew my bachelors in art would help me out somehow!)

You know the saying, time is money? Well I’ve found it certainly can help save it. Normally I use this free time by walking everywhere as I’m disgusted that a train costs $6 each way. However it doesn’t always actually work. Last week I decided to walk into Melbourne . However, upon finishing my multi-hour (and less than scenic) walk I promptly got back on a train and took it home as I was quite tired (so much for saving money.) The good news was that I found a walk of public art all done by high school students. The bad news was that I found that my boots were not made for walking as I split the zipper about an hour away from home. Given that my boots cost just a bit more than $6 it was probably not a particularly smart trade off, but I won’t cry over the sunk cost. Luckily with a pair of pliers and a safety pin they’re back in working order for a bit. Given my aversion to spending money on this trip I found I was a bit weirdly excited while I came across a mall the other day. I took a bit too much joy in being disgusted by the prices of clothing in this country. I have no idea how anybody can afford to clothe themselves. It reminded me a bit of this video:

Yesterday (or today in parts of US) was my 23^rd birthday. My first ever winter birthday. Being that I’ll probably be somewhere in India for “real” thanksgiving I decided to make a full thanksgiving feast—ambitious? Yes. Delicious? Also yes. Patrice and I went to the market on Sunday to get all of my supplies but we struck out with the turkey. There was not a turkey to be found. So instead I got the biggest chicken I have ever seen, my turicken. At least it still had drumsticks. Knowing that I wouldn’t want to walk up early on Tuesday I starting cooking at around noon on Monday. I figured I’d finish up my cake and then have plenty of time for other things... little did I know I was about to embark on the longest cake making ever. The first thing I noticed was that I needed to blanch my hazelnuts. Unfortunately the easiest way to do this is by using baking soda, something that I could only get with a 2 hour round trip walk. Instead I spent those two hours individually peeling hazelnuts after boiling them. The skins still haunt me, two days later I found some in my hair. The cake then called for each layer to be baked separately. While the crust of skinless hazelnuts, sweat, tears and butter was baking I found that someone had eaten an incredibly alarming number of eggs the night before. It was at that moment I realized I had been talking as if I was on a cooking show for the last few hours. I’m sure my fans were riveted for the two hours of peeling (just as you probably are now with my detailed description of torte making.) Luckily I can report that my hazelnut salted caramel chocolate torte was one of the best desserts I have ever had... I’ve becoming incredibly modest in my old age.

At about midnight I was still working. While stirring I started singing myself happy birthday during which Phil walked out and politely pretended he hadn’t heard. I woke up the next day and cooked to finish just in time. In addition to my host family, I had my host father’s mother, brother and sister come as well. It was a bit weird at times like when I brought out my cake and sort of felt like I was saying, “here, eat dessert in honor of my birth!”  It was also uncomfortable when I asked everyone to make a wish (as we do in my family) and the grandmother politely but firmly told me no because she "doesn't go for those sort of things." I've never had anyone deny the chance to make a wish, but that's okay.

I wish for all of you to be doing well!

Encountering The Friendly Elderly Men of Melbourne

I like to plan things, sometimes admittedly I’m a bit too thorough. However, for me the only type of good spontaneity is planned spontaneity (which totally is possible, I promise.) Therefore I was a bit thrown when I was offered a ride into the city the other day and I went without a plan. After being dropped off I somehow managed to walk in the wrong direction... which is impressive since I was trying to walk towards a city with skyscrapers. That’s skill. (See why spontaneous doesn’t normally work for me?) After about thirty minutes of walking in the wrong direction I finally glanced over my shoulder and realized that clearly I was not going the right way.

Should have been hard to miss...

 

Upon turning around it started to pour. My sentiments were described perfectly by an elderly gentleman who walked up to me and said, "lovely weather we’re having." He was walking in the same direction and upon hearing that I had no plans invited me along on his. Ian, who is 90 years old, is a World War II veteran who was thrilled to learn my grandfather had been in Australia during the war. He was going to the Shrine of the Remembrance. It’s really a nice place. Located on the outside of Melbourne, it is situated on a hill in the botanical gardens. Inside is a beautiful memorial and books that contain the names of every fallen Australian. Ian said he had looked up each one of his friends in them. In the center is a marble slab engraved with, "Greater love hath no man." On their version of Memorial Day, "Remembrance Day" on November 11^th at 11 am a beam of light naturally shines down and illuminates the world "love." Ian and I went and had coffee at a nearby coffee shop before he went home. He told me the story of how he met his wife a total of 7 times but the way in which he told it made it worth hearing again and again.

 

"Shrine of Rememberence" by Adam Carr at English Wikipedia - Transferred from en.wikipedia to Commons by Ausxan using CommonsHelper. Licensed under Public domain via Wikimedia Commons - http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Shrine_of_Rememberence.jpg#mediaviewer/File:Shrine_of_Rememberence.jpg

 

I went back and took a tour they were having. I really enjoy the symbolism that goes into memorials, and the Shrine had plenty. The entrances for the lower levels had you go through outside gardens in the shape of trenches. Each of the gardens had different themed plants (the one I went through was entirely Japanese plants.) My elderly tour guide enthusiastically pointed out every image of American soldiers he could find, it was very sweet. He talked my ear off after, and even gave me a hug.

 

Source: http://www.shrine.org.au

This wasn’t the first time I’ve met very nice elderly gentlemen in Australia. Doug took me into the city one day last week and we stopped by a guitar store. I was just wandering when another older gentleman came up and told me, "You know, the bagpipe store is across the street." I still have no idea what he was talking about, but Neil told me all about life and his plans ect. Doug was a bit surprised this had happened. I had told him people came up to me all the time, but he said that wasn’t normal. Must be my happy disposition-- I had someone tell me the other day that I was "disturbingly happy every time they had seen me."

 

Back at my host home I’ve finally adjusted to living with much chattier people than I am used to. There seems to never be a time when at least one person isn’t talking quite loudly (normally there are about three people talking all at the same time.) They’re just a friendly, loud, chatty family. I joked with my host father (Phil) that he and my host mom (Patrice) have a perfect set up for people they meet. Phil corners them and takes them down then Patrice goes in for the kill. The trick for me is to not listen to everything being said. It was getting exhausting... but I’ve now figured out the art of thinking about something entirely different while giving the correct affirmation. Half of what I say (when I get a word in edgewise) is a combination of "umhm, yes, oh that’s lovely, ect." (I feel I should add that Patrice read this and very much enjoyed my description.)

A neat tree.

It’s been really nice having someone about my age staying here, especially someone as nice as Doug (Phil’s middle son.) He’s taken me to dinner at his friends, out into wine country, to a eucalyptus forest, to the botanical gardens, a glass store (woohoo!), the symphony and yesterday I got to see him perform with the Melbourne Chamber Orchestra. It was a fabulous concert in one of the most unique performance spaces I’ve ever seen. Even though he leaves tomorrow he won’t get rid of me yet as he’s letting me stay with him when I go to Tasmania in a couple of weeks. I’m bracing myself for overwhelming joy of seeing my favourite animals, wallabies. Unfortunately, so far though I’ve seen an impressive amount of native wildlife it’s almost been exclusively post-mortem... which I didn’t really want to take pictures of. The weirdest animal I’ve seen was a wombat. They’re tanks of nature, medium-sized but sturdy.

A wombat (pre-mortem)

 

"Vombatus ursinus -Maria Island National Park" by JJ Harrison (jjharrison89@facebook.com) - Own work. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons - http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Vombatus_ursinus_-Maria_Island_National_Park.jpg#mediaviewer/File:Vombatus_ursinus_-Maria_Island_National_Park.jpg

I’ve had multiple skype sessions this week with friends and family and the lovely Alison showed me how to imessage people in the US. It only works with Iphones, but if you want to text, you can text me at mattie.theobald.1@gmail.com and I’ll get it on my ipad.

Miss & love you all!

 

 

Possums & My Weekend

Recently I had a conversation about catching sharks take a nasty turn to detail all of the incredibly scary creatures Australia has to offer. For instance there are more deadly snakes here than any other country in the world. However as always there are exceptions. Australia also seems to have an incredible number of adorable creatures made even cuter by bouncing.

When I moved in I was told to let them know if I heard scratching in the walls at night. They had recently had the "possum whisperer" (that's actually what this man calls himself) come to remove "Percy the possum." Here, there are possums everywhere (much to the disapproval of the greyhounds.) When they told me about Percy I was envisioning the American version, so was a bit confused by the loving way in which they were talked about. In the same way Australians do financing higher education, they just do possums better than us. The proof is in the picture.

American opossum

Australian possum

Sadly, since possums are nocturnal, and normally would run away, the possum I saw (in the picture) was quite sick.

I spent most of my last week also under the weather doing nothing more than sleeping. Though I'm sure detailing those days would be riveting reading, I'll spare you.

The weekend brought clear sinuses and skies as well as one of Phil's sons, Doug. All of Phil's children seem to be gifted musicians. Doug is a professional violist in Tasmania.

You can hear his quartet play here:

http://www.abc.net.au/classic/content/2014/07/13/4027916.htm

I spent the Saturday with the family-- cooking and going to Tim's (Phil's composer son) soccer game.

The game was where I found I could only understand Australians about half the time when they were yelling. When a player on the field got hurt they would lie there until the medic ran over. Once he got there he would throw some water on them and run off the field. This was referred to as the "magic water." It reminded me of how I used to use hand sanitizer if my 6 yo campers asked to go to the nurse too many times for bug bites... Except this was with men in their late 20s and early 30s. Tim had a hat trick and the team celebrated their victory by singing a little song, jumping around and throwing even more water on each other.

On Sunday I cooked with Patrice and was solidly the other chef in the kitchen. Extra chefs were needed, however, as Tim was hosting a 30 some person party for everyone to meet his girlfriend. I ended up talking to a few of Tim's housemates and got the rundown on Australian politics. I didn't mind, but somehow that always seems to happen to me. I always seem to have a busman's holiday at parties. We rounded out the day by attending the church where I had a conversation with a 20 year old electrician who was very enthusiastically smiling while telling me basically if my views didn't exactly align with his I was going to hell. (Spoiler: I now know where I'm headed...way to ruin that surprise.) Somehow the smile made it all the more creepy.

I'm told that he's just a "bit intense." I guess that's one way to put it. On Wednesday I got my first phone call at the house-- it was the electrician's brother asking me if I wanted a ride to a bible thing that night. Somehow I became immediately busy. However, now know who to call if I ever wish to be "en-light-ened." Though what he has to say might "shock me." But maybe I'd see the light.

 

All By Myself, I'm Fine to Be All By Myself

While traveling solo there are a few things that are great doing alone: walking around a city, hiking, writing a blog, taking photos ect. While I've done all of those, one thing I imagined would be awkward was to go to a bar, dance club, ect. While I've still not done either I've now come very close without intending to, by going to an art show. I can now say it was perfectly fine.

Image by: Madelaine Papp Source:http://project-loop.blogspot.com.au

I ventured out to go to RAW Artists, an art show featuring 40 artists of all types, without my camera due to the rain. The venue, the Melbourne Pavilion, was beautiful and massive. It glittered with about 15 chandeliers and 5 disco ball as well as thumped with djs on the 2 stages. Above me were 30 or more models are being decked out in rooms that could be seen from the floor. People poured in. It was if they were in a fashion show themselves. Most looked as if they were going to "the event" wearing heels and cocktail dresses. The rest were a mix of artsy people making sure we knew they were artsy. There were also a few men who clearly had no idea where their girlfriends were taking them (and figuratively had yet to figure that out) thrown in for good measure.

Image by: Madelaine Papp Source:http://project-loop.blogspot.com.au

Wearing about half the clothes I brought all at once with lipstick and my hair piled on my head made me fit in with the artsy crowd as long as I kept a look of mild annoyance and boredom on my face. Before I left, Patrice had told me about the hats she wore to weddings in the 80s. I'm thinking now if I had borrowed a hat it would have completed my outfit.

On my way I took a wrong turn and ended up in a pedestrian tunnel unsure of where to turn. I saw an elderly woman so asked her. She turned to me and said, "oh you'll be lucky if you make it" in a rather forboding tone before reaching up to reveal a bluetooth device. She had no clue where I was heading, but I preferred that response. Luckily man pushing a stroller knew exactly where I was going. (Look at me following safety 101-- only talking to strangers I could easily outrun.)

Image by: Madelaine Papp Source:http://project-loop.blogspot.com.au

Despite the mc making everyone uncomfortable by being so awful once the acts started things looked up. There were numerous musical, performance and dance acts (most burlesque) in a mishmashed show. My favorite was the juggler who wowed everyone with her fancy footwork. The four hour show ended with fashion show:

Image by: Madelaine Papp Source:http://project-loop.blogspot.com.au

After, I managed to catch a tram, & chatted with a chef who had helped me with public transport. My accent proves to be a blessing and a curse as I have so many people help me (blessing) but then normally inform me that they feel compelled to help out the ignorant American (curse.) The most amazing part of our conversation was that I found out since she moved away from her home to receive her training, the government was subsidizing her rent by half! While living with parents well into your twenties seems to be very much the standard here (I'll be completely honest and admit it's weird to me) I was fascinated by how the policy would reflect that. Isn't policy cool?

On my train I chatted with an illustrator and we watched as a group of people next to me got arrested (clearly the excitement of the police officer's night.)

It certainly was an interesting night.

(Also, I'd like to just apologize if there are/have been many spelling mistakes. My app doesn't spellcheck for me, and as a true child of the modern era, that hurts.)

Scripture & Sculpture

One of my first nights in Melbourne I was taken to church by my host family. Upon entering I had the feeling I was going to a NFL game (or to be completely honest a marching band competition.) Phil had (I now realize jokingly) told me it was a little church. The church they attend have 4000 attend each sunday. Yes, a four with three zeros. As the service started an army of teenage girls decended the stage while electric guitars whaled and all the lights flashed. I felt more like I was at a rock concert. The entire time I was simply downright impressed. The girls' interpretive dance was pretty good, the band was great. The mass of christian youth (haha get it?) in the world's tamest mosh pit at the foot of the stage were the perfect audience. They knew every song, stormed down enthusiasticly and then retreated quietly, they even managed to clap and sway perfectly in sync. I have also never had so many people try to convert me so polietly. Clearly "converting them through kindness" is working for them as 7 people were baptized that service alone. Even though I am Christian I'm more used to a stained glass and organ type theme.

Source: http://www.crossway.org.au

The two most impressive things to me were the videography and the lengths they went to get snow. Every song had the performers projected on the screens making it seem like they were producing music videos. Despite being the most calm person there the entire service I lost it when the youth group showed a (beautiful of course) video of them bringing in a semi of snow to go sledding. I don't know what they would think of hamilton weather, but then again I do-- cold. Very very cold. I'm a regular polar bear here.

Source: http://www.crossway.org.au

Both Steph's and my host parent's bible study groups met at the house this week as well. Though I stayed downstairs for both, Phil and Patrice's was certainly the rowdier of the two as they are perfecting a puppet show with their chruppets (Christian muppets.)

A few days later I ventured into the city for the first time. I transformed into a four year old as soon as I saw Melbourne through the window. It's quite a picturest city with little pathways, big pathways and lots of art.

These were my two favorite works I saw on the street:

The first is a series of massive sculptures with moveable parts. Fittingly it symbolizes the different stages of immigration to australia.

The other, "Winter Solstice" is a lovely hanging installation. The use of light was so tastefully executed.

I had gone into the city to attend a young teen's program: NGV Culture Camp: NAIDOC Week. This week is a school holiday for children in Victoria so I’m without access to schools. However, the National Gallery of Victoria is presenting a week dedicated to Australian Indigenous Art (how perfect!) NAIDOC Week is unfortunately open to children under 17 (though I thought about just not wearing makeup I figured it would be embarrassing if I was asked for an ID.) I decided to go anyway (with makeup on) and see what I could find out and who I could talk to. I got a few ideas and am learning more and more indigenous culture. Afterwards I was going to go to the art museum and the Ian Potter Centre: NGV Austalia which is the "world’s first gallery dedicated exclusively to Australian Art" but I got distracted.

Leaving those two for another day I happily got lost in the city. I listened to quite a number of performers on the street with the highlight being these guys:

http://youtu.be/VTxy76fVZi0

Trying to find my way home I inadvertently got lost in one heck of a mall-- with only Asian food in the food court and these two shops:

Rather unexpected.

Hope all of you are doing well!