The first stint on the train went through the night, although actual sleep was hard to come by. A few girls on my program ditched their seats for some empty ones down the car (brilliant idea that I wish I'd thought of), while some other people opted to just camp out on the floor below (ew?) to stretch out. I just crunched up in my little window seat, sacrificing my remaining iPod battery to try and catch some z's with little luck. It was okay though -- we soon arrived in Sydney and boarded the second train, which would give us some of the best Australian views of the trip. One thing that was a bit less cool, though, was rolling through some of the affected areas from the Victoria bushfires. We viewed long burnt sections from our train car, even seeing the outlines where houses used to stand. Made everything feel a lot more real.
Arriving in Melbourne, despite the charred landscape a half an hour before, was glorious. It never felt so good to throw on my enormous backpack and walk the platform, surrounded by the usual herd of colorful, heavily-weighted-but-still-grinning fellow students. We all use the same strategy for carrying our crap -- big backpack on back, smaller backpack on front -- giving everyone a sort of pregnant-hunchback effect. Normally, this aides in balance, but after spending a whole day on the train, the fatigue was too much for my friend Kendall who promptly spilled on the floor (backpacks and all) the minute we arrived at our Melbourne hostel, "The Nunnery."
We'd all had to smush into these vans called "maxi taxis" to get to the hostel (and I mean SMUSH), but still couldn't believe how beautiful the city was on the drive over. Not only was the architecture in the city mind-blowing (from new and oddly-shaped high-rises to much-older Parliament buildings and churches), but the scenery very picturesque. Across the street from "The Nunnery" was a gorgeous park with big trees (I LOVE Australian trees) and lots of shady places to sit down and read. Ahhhhhh. As if this wasn't enough, "The Nunnery's" inside was even cooler, with high ceilings, big paintings, and lots of maps. My room had a bunch of bunkbeds (pretty standard) and two old fireplaces and chandeliers (very not-standard), plus a sweet outdoor courtyard around the corner, complete with bar-b-que and porch-swing. We loved it here! Oh yeah, the place also got its name because the Archbishop used to live there. Neat-o.
That night, we wandered over to a street called Brunswick, which -- while I liked Melbourne already -- sealed the deal that this city was the coolest place we'd visited so far. Lining the streets were interesting restaurants, bars, boutiques, art, graffiti, music (including a guy with a drumset just improv-ing), little courtyards, and young people. Perfect! A small group of ladies and I found a great Thai place with big pillows to sit on, munching on satay, curry, and cheap beer. Yum! Afterwards, we wandered a bit more, bought some gelato, and just took everything in. The next morning we ventured out towards the city, attempting to find "class" somewhere on the 5th floor of the Melbourne City Library. Maps in hand, we boarded a packed tram car (just like the MAX!) and hoped we wouldn't be busted for not having tickets. Met a nice, blonde ex-pat who told us how to get to our destination (after reassuring us about the no-ticket situation) and got off around Swanston St. Grabbed a quick "flat white" to go ("take away") from a near-by cafe and headed up to the 5th floor of the library for group discussion #2. So far this trip, it's been really hard to get into "school" mentality... especially when we've just arrived in such cool new places! Oh well.
After talking about the day's assigned reading, an adorable old guy named Geoff Mosley walked in the classroom, maps and papers spilling out of his hands. This guy, Geoff, is one of the primo know-it-alls about Tasmania, having researched its parks and landscape since the 1960s. Specializing in eco-tourism, he's been bouncing around the Tassie woods in a 4WD jeep long enough to consider himself "an honorary citizen," even though he originally hails from England. Geoff stood up in the front of our little class and outlined our upcoming trip South, getting everyone psyched to see both a completely new environment (mountains!) and to have him him as our tour-guide. I don't think we could have found anyone more knowledgable (or bad-ass!) to show us around. This guy is 78 and still climbs mountains... recently he was climbing Federation Peak (one of Tassie's toughest) and had to be winched-out with a helicopter after pulling his entire calf muscle, and he's still going! You go, Geoff.
After class, we headed a block over to Federation Square -- Melbourne's equivalent of Pioneer Square -- and said hello to the city's Sustainable Living Festival. The city said hi back, greeting us not only with sunshine (our final days in Byron had been wet and humid), but live music, cool vendors, GREAT food, FREE internet, rad speakers, and fun activities! Melbourne, I love you.
We quickly got the lay of the land at the festival, identifying the four main speakers' tents ("feel" tent, "feast" tent, "design" tent, and "think" tent), all themed towards the talks that would happen there during the next three days. I attended talks on Sustainable Street Foods and Indigenous Media, just to name a few, and dined on delicious Hare Krishna veggie curry and a watermelon + pineapple smoothie made special by a girl in a green wig, powering the blender with her bike. Fantastic. Saturday and Sunday brought similar experiences, including more music (look up Anita George!), more bike-smoothies, more sun, and many more talks. One of the best addressed the question "is talking about climate change the same as sustinability?" hosted by two incredible guys: author Anthony James, and this old guy named Frank (wish I remembered his last name) who owns a wind farm and has been working around energy his whole life. He was pretty old (older than Geoff maybe) and early on, declared himself a "blind, gutless, numbskull," before explaining how he'd lost most of his intestine to Crohn's disease and had the top of his head ripped off in a bad biking accident. Oh yeah, and he can only see through one eye. Despite all of these "disabilities," this Frank dude was one of the most amazing people I've ever listened too. Not only had he been working on making the world a more sustainable place for years, but believed (in a very no-bullshit kind of way) in the power of communicating with other people to make change. "We live with an auto-pilot mentality, " he said, "and we need to get out of it." One of the best quotes though, I thought, came at the end. Prefaced with the fact that he told this to all his students, he said "although my work is centered on the wilderness, on healing nature, the wilderness I'm most interested in is sitting right in front of me. If I leave here having made just one of you a little more wild -- as in less predictable compared to me -- I've done my job." Well said, Frank. I liked him a lot.
Another great connection I made at the festival came through attending the forum on "Indigenous Media." Hoping to do an independent study somehow connected to indigenous people here in Australia, I wanted to hear how those in the media industry cope with other people (non-indigenous) always trying to tell their stories for them. Ideally, I was hoping to gain some insight into how a white-girl like me could possibly approach their culture in a respectful, realistic way. There were three speakers at the forum: a female journalist who wrote for Koori Mail (a national aboriginal/Torres Strait islander newpaper, http://www.koorimail.com.au/), a video-journalist for National Indigenous TV (niTV), and a muscian and radio-host for 3 KND (Kool and Deadly radio), one of several indigenous radio stations. I had recently read a previous ISP report by a past SIT student who'd worked with another indigenous radio station in the Kimberley (Western Australia), and was interested in looking into doing something similar for my own project. So, hearing this guy from 3KND talk sounded like it'd be really helpful. Altogether though, the best message from the talk (apart from simply learning about these people's jobs and opinions) came out of a question posed by a white woman in the audience: "Is there a place, in your opinion, for non-indigenous people within your organizations?" Right on the money! I listened -- their collective response was that these organizations were created to give indigenous people a place, not white folks. At the same time, though, they were not against including others as long as the approach came from an educational and educated perspective. "It all comes down to the individual," the writer for Koori Mail announced. "If you want to learn about our culture, don't just come in, trying to solve all our problems. If they were that easy to solve, we'd have solved 'em already. If you want to learn about us, read Koori Mail! Listen to 3KND! Get educated and learn before you act." I left the forum feeling a lot more in-the-know about how to approach my ISP.
Later that day (Saturday), I stopped by the 3KND tent and spoke to the radio guy from the forum, saying that I'd heard him the day before. He appreciated it and gave me some info about the station. Then, at a sort-of festival after party complete with sustainable beer (!), the guy came up to me on his own and introduced me to the station's manager (a non-indigenous guy!). I talked with them for awhile, inside feeling really excited that he'd remembered me at all. I explained a little more about my ISP (even though I was scared shitless to try to approach the indigenous-aspect with him), and he reiterated that it's a really touchy subject. I guess I'll just have to wait and see what I find and hope that I can approach the idea of working with indigenous people with an open (and educated) mind. Regardless, I know that talking with him and hearing the forum will prove helpful once I start contacting different organizations.
Speaking of, I also met a great man and woman at this tent for The Torch Project (http://www.thetorch.asn.au/), an outfit that works through arts-related projects to attain cultural awareness and bridges between indigenous and non-indeigenous people! PERFECT. Not only would I be around people involved in both communities (if I did an ISP with them), but also working to establish connections between them. I told them about my ISP ideas and got the guy's e-mail. Sweet! I plan on contacting them as soon as I start my ISP research.
Other highlights of the festival included meeting a local science teacher (really nice woman a little older than me) at one of the live shows. After watching her stuff so she could go take a picture of the lead singer, she came over, thanked me, and proceeded to introduce herself. I told her about SIT and how long we were in Melbourne, and she told me about how the lead singer was her best friend since Uni(versity). After hearing a lot about her life, she offered up some great local secrets, including which bars I "had to go to" before we left. One of these was called "Madame Brussel's" and used to be the Melbourne brothel for all the politicians and stuff (ew). Anyway, the place was now a local secret, complete with Alice-and-Wonderland ambiance and a rooftop bar! Hell yeah! Later that night, after venturing back to the square to watch a movie on eco-villages, we ended up finding "Madame Brussel's" and meeting up with friend of one girl on my program.
Finding this place was no easy feat and if this guy we were meeting up with hadn't given us the exact address, we would've walked right past it. Basically, the door looks like it's for another restaurant and you only find "Madame Brussel's" after climbing 5 sketchy flights of stairs, where suddenly a line of posh-looking Melbourne-ites appears along the stairwell. We got in after the bouncer scrutinized our passports and found our way to a "back-room" through a door marked NO ENTRY (this whole adventure was like a puzzle). Suddenly, we found ourselves in a secret bar with amazing artwork, another chandelier (bigger than the one in my hostel room!), and gold fixtures everywhere. A little man in a smart-looking vest waited on us, bringing us our cocktails in this giant silver teapot that resembled a big urn (gross?). That night was one I won't soon forget, to say the least.
The following day (Sunday), we spent some more time at the festival and then said goodbye to amazing Melbourne before smushing everything back in the maxi-taxis and driving down to the Pier. As we approached to water, we could see our ocean liner, "The Spirit of Tasmania," chugging in to the harbor. And seriously, it was the biggest thing I've ever seen in my life. The boat itself was eleven stories and boasted a movie theater, deck bars, gambling center, several restaurants, on-board shopping (really?), and much more. It was pretty crazy. Also crazy (yet so typical), was that the "Spirit" assumed I was Mr. Leigh Bowman (honestly... come ON), so I got placed in the boy's cabin, along with Brian, Alex, and Yoshi. The guys are all chill though, so I didn't mind. We hung out for a little while in our miniscule cabin and then had some dinner with the group. I watched an on-board movie and later, after we'd gotten far enough off shore to really see the stars, the boys and I lay down on the upper deck and tried to identify the "southern cross" with no luck.
After being rocked to sleep by the waves, at 6 AM a voice through the speaker above our heads (think GPS-lady) announced our arrival in Tasmania. We bumped around the cabin as we tried to hoist our backpacks on with limited space to move and then departed the "Spirit" to find long-lost Dave, our busdriver, waiting outside! Hooray! Chain-smoking, as usual, Dave said "hi" and non-chalantly replied (when asked what he'd been up without us to drive around), that he'd been doing "a whole lot of nothing." Oh, Dave.
We boarded the bus (same size, same trouble going up hills, but different color) and Geoff commenced his tour-o-Tassie, complete with a little microphone. We proceeded towards the Great Western Tiers and got out twice, once to check out a cool bog and another to look at a memorial of some racist guy that claimed to have discovered that part of Tasmania (he forgot about these people called aborigines...). Even though I love Geoff, I slept secretly most of the time in the back of the bus. I think I might be getting sick from all this traveling! We got to Hobart late in the afternoon to find our hostel mid-ready... I guess they're still building the place! With hammering in the background, we moved in and I took a little nap before wandering the city on foot (Hobart's hills make San Fran look wimpy). I took great pictures of a church up the road and ultimately wandered over to this adorable "Peace Park" on the side of a hill overlooking the town. Needing some much needed time to fill in my journal, I sat on the grass for awhile before relocating due to a red-ant attack. The place was truly beautiful, with every house a different bright color. I sat until the sun went down, and then went back to the hostel to cook dinner. In line with our sustainable program theme, a lot of kids on the program have tried to go vegan, led by this girl named Sara who's been a convert for a few years now. In addition, and especially after hearing all this stuff at the festival, most of us only feel morally right buying local organic food, so everyone immediately hones in on the natural food stores in each town we visit. Luckily, this time we found one only two blocks from our sorta-hostel, where I bought locally made and bottled apple-juice, sweet potatoes, ginger, and organic corn (still in the husk) for dinner. Aunt Patty would be proud -- I made a delicious ginger corn with sweet potatoes, into which my friend Kendall donated some sauteed onions and tofu. Delicious! At a long center table, I ate dinner while other kids read or did homework (a write-up of all the talks we attended at the festival) before showering and collapsing in bed. I've been reading this great novel by Peter Carey called the "True History of the Kelly Gang," documenting the life and times of one of Australia's most famous outlaws: Ned Kelly. I recommend it to anyone looking for a good story to read.
So that's about it! Hopefully that long entry makes amends for my lack of updates so far. I will try and get better about it... it's nice when you find libraries and places with free internet (as opposed to cafes or on the damn "Spirit of Tasmania"... $1 for only four minutes!). As always, I miss home and everyone there. Wishing happy and healthy Tuesdays (or I guess Mondays) for all. Talk to you soon! More pictures coming as soon as I'm reunited with my laptop charger in Byron. Bye!
