Not Quite New Orleans

I realize I haven't blogged for awhile. But after looking at my calendar seeing if there were any cool events coming up, I realized the blog would soon explode with posts. This is the first of this explosion. My finger came across two words and one giant gay parade/festival, Mardi Gras. In the states, this parade is not intended solely to show gay pride (with the beads and all that accompany them...you know). HOWEVER, here it's a totally different story. Big old gay pride parade. I'm only here once so I was totally in. We're not in New Orleans, but I figured it wouldn't disappoint. Oh no, not another excuse to drink and wander the city. 

Truthfully, the only reason I was so aware of the upcoming festival was that a friend from home (Wuttup Tina!) was coming to stay with me in Sydney with a friend. I've dubbed this weekend the Wollongong Invasion (Tina studies in Wollongong, AUS) to pay homage to the Mass Invasions which occur annually in North Carolina. This paragraph is a 7.8 on the digression scale. 

The day of Mardi Gras came and could not be wasted. Tina and Megan (Wollongobstoppers) wanted to see the city, and since I pretty much know every nook and cranny, I was happy to share my expertise. So we basically wandered aimlessly. We walked by the famous St. Mary's Cathedral, a massive structure. To get an idea of its size, take Ste. Marguerite D'Youville (Margaritaville) from back home and multiply it by the entire town of Dracut. There were multiple alters and huge beams supporting the incredibly tall ceiling. After taking about 5-10 pictures inside this place, I walked into the gift shop in the back (because all churches have gift shops these days) and found out that you need to purchase a permit in order to take photos inside. All of us ignored this and walked back into the pretty part of the church for more pics. I don't think God will be as mad at me as he'll be at whoever scarred this place by deciding to put an obnoxious gift shop inside such a beautiful place of worship. On my last post I may have had the New South Whales police after me for posting pictures in the opera house. This time it'll be the pope. 

The cathedral is really awesome though. It's the kind of place that makes you sit and stare in awe, wondering if you're really there. It even had a cool little spiral staircase that led up to the slightly offset pulpit. I'd like to catch a mass here before I leave. Unfortunately, I'll be away for Easter. 

Anyways, we continued on to the Sydney Botanical Gardens and then on to the Opera House for some more photo opps. It was a long and hot day of walking, sweating, and picture taking. There was only one way to bring the daylight portion of Mardi Gras to an end: 30 cent soft serve from McDonalds. 

The Mardi Gras night life was finally here. YES!

So with high hopes of a smashing Mardi Gras extravaganza, my pals and I bought the very best 2-for-18$ boxed wine Liquor Land had to offer and swallowed them both. It may have been the wine talking, but I instantly decided I needed facepaint before we left for the parade. Unfortunately there was none in sight. But, it is a gay celebration after all. And Emily did have some pretty face paint-like eyeliner...I put makeup on my face is what I'm trying to say. I realize every man who was reading this has now closed the internet window in disgust, but I thank the ladies who are sticking with me to the end of the post. 

It was probably a 50 dollar tube of eye liner, but this moment called for it to be rubbed all over my face in no particular design. It doesn't count as wasting when you're drunk. Let me stress that it was not neatly applied under my eyes. Emily was kind enough to smear it on my cheeks, forehead, ears, and neck. I think I can find a picture. 

Tina y yo

Unfortunately, we were exactly on time for the parade. What this meant was that we were going to have the worst view of all time since thousands had packed the streets early due to something they have in Australia called thinking ahead. We fought our way through the crowd until we got as close as we possibly could. Through the arms, legs, masks, and feathers, we could barely make out any of the parade. I was confused. Where are all the beads being thrown about? Why are we all looking at the parade rather than mingling/partying? It seemed like everyone's eyes were so focused on the street that they forgot we were all trying to have a good time. This surprised me since there's no way everyone except me was able to perfectly view the parade. 

From what I could see of it though, the parade was good. There were extravagant costumes that left very little to the imagination. Clothing was apparently optional for parade participants....unfortunately. They were also allowed to whip each other which I found interesting. There were crazy masked dancers frolicking about back and forth across the street. Rainbow flags flew everywhere. It probably would have really been something to see if only I could have seen it. My hopes were so high for my first ever Mardi Gras that I was unfortunately left with an empty feeling of  "what now" as the parade came to an end. I probably won't ever go out of my way to experience the New Orleans version. This was the closest I may ever come and it was only mediocre. 

In no way was this going to ruin the night. We continued on (me almost getting into a fight with some non-English-speaking hooligans who intentionally bumped into me on the street) and ended up having a pretty good time. Late dinner and drinks at Scruffy Murphy's and a bit of dancing at Side Bar. It was an amazing time until Tina ended up with someone's drink all over her. That put a bit of a damper (pun intended) on the night, but overall I'd say it was groovy. Did I just say groovy? Anyways, I hope the Wallygongers decide to visit again so we can further explore this crazy city with them.

I'd post some Mardi Gras pictures up here but you'd only like those if you're into blurry photos of nothing. Keep an eye on this TNT-stuffed blog. It's gonna blow (in a good way).

They let me inside the Sydney Opera House

Some of us bought tickets to see "A Midsummer Night's Dream" at the Sydney Opera House. I really couldn't wait to go since I'd just read this play a few months ago in my Shakespeare class at UMD. It very well could be my favorite Shakespeare play. That or Titus Andronicus.  I kind of want to start this blog over because I'm starting to sound like a nerd. Too late, I've continued typing too far at this point. 

I'll set the scene. It was a gorgeous Sydney midsummer night. Very fitting, for in my hand was a ticket to "A Midsummer Night's Dream". I got off the bus and walked a short while before my eyes ran into this:

We all stopped and took seventeen photos each before we proceeded into the opera house (off to the right in the picture). The interior as I walked in was really cool. I don't know how to describe it and I didn't take a picture so deal with the fact that I saw it and you didn't. I definitely felt out of place though. We entered with a group of people in their early 20's. Everyone else there looked like they were born in the early 20's. I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say we were the only ones who weren't old enough to potentially have grandchildren. The Shakespeare crowd must be a bit older than what I'm used to seeing at Showcase Cinemas. They also seemed more calm about the whole "being in the opera house about to see a world famous play" thing. I was genuinely pumped to be there. After some people bought a few snacks or whatever, we entered the enormous concert hall. I later found out this is the larger of the two main venues at the opera house. The other is the slightly smaller opera theatre. 

Why was a play being performed in the concert hall instead of the theatre? I was about to find out. But first it was time to find our seats. How exciting. It was extremely important to me that I find the correct seats without getting lost. I never want to be the person walking around absentmindedly looking like a tourist more and more every second. Especially at the Sydney Opera House. I figured they wouldn't be good seats. We got them pretty cheap. But that wasn't the case (entirely). As we walked up the stairs, and then more stairs...and then some more stairs, I finally spotted our row. We sat and I was pleasantly surprised by our view. We could see the whole entire concert hall. AKA we were in the very last row. I chose to look at it like this: Other people have to turn around to see just how big the place is. I was able to take it all in right from the comfort of my forward-facing seat. I was also far away from anyone who could yell at me for taking pictures (which I hear is not allowed but I'm not even sure). They're probably on their way to arrest me right now for posting these next few photos. Note the lack of youth in the audience.

I'd like to thank ^this^  gentleman for standing and disrupting 

what otherwise would have been a flawless picture.

You might notice that the stage has no set. There's an orchestra right in the middle of it. Confusing. I thought we were seeing a play. Unfortunately, there were no crazy sets or costumes. The actors simply walked through the musicians and recited their lines. It was still an amazing show, but much of the creative potential that "A Midsummer Night's Dream" has was stripped away by limiting the set like this. Still, the acting was great and they still managed to entertain me a bunch. Just watching the musicians play was something else. These are the professionals. I saw a very high quality show at one of the world's most famous venues. Maybe I'll go back to see something else that catches my eye. They have a Jerry Springer play showing there soon, no lie. The back row has my name all over it. 

A good way to tell how high you are on the obnoxious tourist scale is to see how long you stay after the show taking pictures outside. Since we were by far the last ones there, snapping away an hour or so after the last guests had left, I'd say we set a tourist record. You would have too if you were seeing the things we were seeing. I'll leave you with these nighttime photos to enjoy until I get around to my next entry. 

ADIOS

Aussie Life

I thought I was going to be really clever on this post. I thought this one up weeks ago while I was still in the states. The idea was to do a little mythbusters segment. We've all heard that the toilets flush in the opposite direction in Australia. I don't know where this came from, but I've heard it since I was a young warthog. Of all the things I could have been getting excited about in preparation for this trip, the toilet flush thing basically reigned supreme. I even took the time to record a video of  a typical American toilet flush before I left so I could post it here to compare it to a typical Australian flush. Try to imagine how stupid I looked holding my brand new camera over the toilet and flushing, capturing every second for you guys. Let's consider the myth. Take a second to look at the two flushes and make your own decision. 

    American

  Australian 

Right. I think we can pretty much consider this myth busted. The intense Australian flush not only startles me, it sucks straight down with no directional flow whatsoever. Boo. I was borderline upset to find that all Aussie toilets (that I've seen anyways) flush like this. I don't want to make it seem like this toilet fascination has totally consumed me, but I have done some research on the matter. You may have noticed the two flush buttons on top of the toilet. One is a half flush for liquid matter and one is a full flush for the other thing. Stop me if it's getting too gross. They also don't use plungers down here. Their toilets are better I guess and a plunger is a tool used by weird Americans. When I get home, I'm investing in an Australian toilet for the house. 

At least the toilets aren't exactly the same. That would have made this mythbusting experience even more boring than it already is. 

This isn't the only thing that's different here. My university orientation experience was nothing like what you'd see in any school across the United States. It was a few weeks ago but it's cool enough to talk about for sure. 

UTS threw international students a cocktail party which involved free beer, wine, and champagne for all of us. It also involved me double fisting to make the most out of the three hour event. There were responsible-looking faculty at this event getting their fix of the free booze as well. If it hadn't yet hit me that I wasn't in America anymore, this did it. Get jealous.

FREE

FREE

After the cocktail party we went on the pub crawl that was also organized by the school. It showed us a couple of good pubs in The Rocks and gave me an opportunity to drink a quick litre mug of beer. Solid. 

Not free, but still good

I swear everything seen in these pictures is 100% legal for me here. This beer mug was so big I could probably fit all the Australian change I've been accumulating into just two of them. An exaggeration, but I'm trying to make a point here. The change that inhabits my pocket/wallet/desk/floor space is getting a bit out of hand. The worst part is the infamous 2 dollar coin. This is the most valuable coin they have here yet it's the smallest in size. Try to imagine the USA coming out with a two dollar coin that is the same exact size as the penny. It's worth 200 times as much but takes up the same amount of room in my pocket. Every time I buy something I have to remind myself that it's worth taking the tiny coin back from the cashier. This is also why whenever I hear a coin drop on the ground, I immediately stop what I'm doing and crouch down in public like an idiot in search of whatever treasure may have escaped my pocket. It's funny to watch all my American friends struggle to remember that coins have worth here.

The ridiculously tiny 2$ coin (with US penny)

The other coins. Left to right: 5c, 10c, 20c, 50c, and 1$

The notes aren't that hard to use luckily. They're colour coded. Yeah, it's Monopoly money. I don't feel like I'm actually spending anything when I hand over a purple piece of currency. The cool thing about the notes is that they're completely water proof. I don't have to worry about putting them through the wash (not that my laundry will be done with any consistency). 

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Let's talk about some of the things that can be watched on the gorgeous, 19-inch, snowy-pictured television I have in my room. Well, I'll just talk about it for now since I'm the one posting. But feel free to give your comments afterwards. When I sit down to watch TV here, it's a long process. I have to put some deep thought into it. Which of the five channels will I choose? On one station, there will be some sort of Australian soap opera. The only reason this potentially interests me is that a girl in my film class stars in one of them. I need to find out which one and when it airs when i see her this week. Normally I'd rather drag my knees across cement than watch a soap opera so I flip to the next station. Here's an unfamiliar face: Oprah Winfrey. I thought I was going to be able to escape Oprah's control over what people do and buy. This episode was about living a long, healthy life. I decided to leave it on (strictly for background noise, seriously). Apparently drinking goat milk can extend your life. Some old Italian guy on the show had been drinking it since childhood so its got to be the real deal. 

Like a true American, I absorbed Oprah's every word and immediately vowed to run out to the store and grab some goat milk ASAP. I must have told Lauren every day: "I'm getting the goat milk today". But again, like a true American, I was too lazy to actually go get the stuff. Eventually, I think Lauren got fed up with all my talk. I walked into Unilodge one day and she slammed a carton of goat milk down on my desk. Or did she just hand it to me? I don't know, but slamming it seems more dramatic so that's what we'll go with. We immediately cracked it open and had a taste. When I saw Oprah drink it, she looked like she was chewing on it. Fortunately, this milk went down pretty smooth for me. Of course, I forced other people to try it (despite their repeated attempts at declining) and got mixed reactions. I'm going to have to do further research, but if it really does add to your life, I have every reason to buy it again the next time I need milk (which coincidentally is today). 

Before the goat milk talk I believe I was blabbering about the television. You'll see a whole lot of American shows. "Two and a Half Men" (very popular), "The Simpsons", "Everybody Loves Raymond", "Beauty and the Geek", "David Letterman", and my personal favorite "The Ellen Degeneres Show".  I came to Australia hoping the TV was going to be crappy so I wouldn't get addicted to any shows and become a couch potato. I think I got my wish. As good as Ellen is, I don't feel like I'm missing out when I skip it in favour of a more quality study abroad experience. We did rent season one of the Aussie comedy "Summer Heights High" though. Whoever has seen it knows just how necessary of a decision that was. 

One show I'd wanted to catch is "Bondi Rescue". They pretty much show all kinds of emergencies and lifeguard rescues at the nearby Bondi beach. I've been to this beach a few times and have seen the camera crew doing their work. That got me really interested. A few days ago I was finally able to tune in. It was nothing like what I imagined. Maybe it was a boring episode, but I wanted shark attacks and I got beach arguments and cuts on the leg. Bondi Rescue is not dead to me, but I'm temporarily rescuing myself from the program so no time here is wasted. 

I have HEAPS more to write about. I've just been a tiny bit lazy and I'm again struggling with my internet. More to come. 

Tropfest

The world's largest short film festival right here in Sydney. A bring-your-own picnic style festival where a large screen in the center of a big field entertained the 70,000 people. 

Obviously, going to an event like this would take a lot of planning. For the first time in this entire trip, the group did a very good job preparing. We went to the grocery store for our picnic supplies, the liquor store for more picnic supplies, came home and made our lunches (I'm now excellent at hurry-up sandwich making), snagged Luke's frisbee, and headed out the door. It was an extremely hot day. One of the hotter ones I've had here. Since I like laughing at people, it pleased me to see that a few decided to wear pants. Yikes. 

Now, you wouldn't think it'd be hard to find an enormous festival like this. Especially when it takes place in a normally calm park (the Botanical Gardens of Sydney). BUT, we managed to stuff it up pretty good. We walked approximately 40 miles of garden paths before we realized we were headed in the wrong direction. Eventually, we did get there. That was a relief because we really needed to put all our stuff down. Why do bags get so heavy when beer is loaded into them? The place looked really cool and considering the gates to the festival had only recently opened, it was bumping with humans. 

^Stole this sweet pic from Lauren^

Upon arriving, I did what anybody with any sense would do. I looked for free stuff. Some of the best souvenirs are those you don't have to pay for. Unfortunately, the other thing about free stuff is that its usually flimsy, worthless, and pathetic. Which brings me to the free lounge chairs we were all given upon entry. They were orange, cardboard, fold-up chairs. Probably about as comfortable as a sandpaper pillowcase. When I would try to sit back in the chair, it would begin to crumble beneath me at about 1/4 the pressure I wanted to comfortably apply to it. The grass might have been a better option, but I battled it out with this horrible chair all day anyways. The other free item I received was a program giving the details of the festival. I did like this but I'm pretty sure I lost it. All I have are the pictures and the memories left. Sorry, I didn't save the flattened chair. 

Awkwardly trying to balance my weight in awful chair

The heat was very...hot. My first move upon arriving was to take my shirt off and again apply sunscreen. Let me remind everyone (especially those reading this who wore pants) to imagine the severe discomfort that was felt by those who had their legs covered in heavy denim. The second move after the shirt removal was the removal of a VB from the 6 pack. This was followed by the removal of the frisbee from Luke's backpack. We played a solid 30+ minutes of frisbee. People don't mind coming up and hopping in the games. Frisbee is not nearly as popular here as it is in the states and some even seemed intrigued by it. Tossing the disc is quickly becoming one of my favourite things to do. I'll thank my dad for providing me with a bit of experience in this field. 

When I took my sandwich out of the bag at lunch time, I was surprised to find that it wasn't soggy and was still 100% edible. So I ate it. I also ate pringles, carrots, cheesy bread, and the delicious product known as Nutella. It's a hazelnut/cocoa spread that does exist in the states but I'd never heard of it until I got here. Finding out about Nutella is in the running for most significant moment of my life. It's delicious and I eat more of it than anybody should eat of anything. 

The time came for us to view all the finalist's short films. There were funny ones, sad ones, ones that make you think...overall a great show. I'm so completely glad I didn't fall asleep during it or I would have missed some really good stuff. Visit-  http://tropfest.ninemsn.com.au/ to get a look at the films we saw. The title of the winning film is "Be My Brother". Follow that link and go to the second page of Tropfest '09 films to see it. Boo yeah. 

An all day picnic/film festival/great time. Pretty much my kind of thing.