Wall projection at Sticky Bricks at Northcott Estate
Every day on the way to and from work, I walk past the Northcott Estate. Known locally in Surry Hills as “the twin towers” or “suicide towers”, the estate which houses around 1,000 people has a “bad reputation”. Over the years there have been numerous calls for their demolition, partially due to changing attitudes towards these “eastern europe style” tower blocks, and partially due to the changing demographic nature of Surry Hills. The area is no longer the slums of Ruth Park’s “Poor Man’s Orange”. Nonetheless, Northcott Estate remains an important part, both physically and culturally of the area.
Although I sometimes think “community arts projects” can be well-intentioned, but fail to actually engage with the community, I think this project has probably worked really well. And that’s why I think they’ve managed to avoid patronising those they have worked with, which can be another of the common problems with some community arts projects. That said, those involved who performed were generally older or were children, which may reflect the time those people have to participate in a project like this, but it might also mean the project was considered a bit of an oddity around the estate. I don’t know the answer to that question.
As a piece of theatre it worked well, incorporating music, dance and spoken word vignettes which were both touching and humorous. I loved, in particular, the reminiscences about the visit by The Queen to Northcott Estate in the early 60s are very funny, with my favourite quote being, as “the Queen looked down from the rooftop, she was observed to say I see you still have some way to go with slum clearance”. I was also touched by the comment from an old Chinese woman, Mrs Ho, probably in her 80s or 90s who said, when thanking people around the estate who help her in her daily life, “I’m too old to help anyone any more”.
There was a moment today when the guy sitting behind me, Paul, said “You know I think I wouldn’t mind living in Shanghai for a year of two”. Without hesitation, I told him I’d thought the same thing earlier in the day. It’s odd, of course, because we’d only been in the city for less than twenty-four hours. Thinking logically about it, it’s probably because of the familiarity of the place. it’s the most “Western” city we’ve visited so far. It also reminded me a lot of Sydney. Maybe it’s also the fact that it’s a city based around water that gives the place such good energy. Obviously, we were both jumping to premature conclusions, but one thing I am sure of: I’d like to come back and visit the city again. Maybe for the next International Art Fair?
The organised parts of today’s tour included a trip to the airport and back on the high-speed train (reaching 430km/h), a visit to a clothing and electronics market (where I bought a really nice winter jacket at a really good price), a visit to Shanghai Bund, a walk around the city, and a night-time cruise.
Fast train to the airport in Shanghai
“So that’s where all of our coal goes?”, I joked to Sue, as we reflected on the bright city lights of Shanghai. City lights in Sydney (and most other cities) are normally a dull affair of corporate logos and simple colours. In contrast, the city lights of Shanghai are bright, colourful and imaginative. There was a real sense of theatre and occasion, I thought to myself, as we travelled around the harbour.
Sue on board the Shanghai city night cruise.
For the additional cost of 50 Yuan (about $9-10), we paid for “VIP Seating” which meant we got to sit outdoors in a less crowded part of the boat, and orange juice was even thrown in. Sadly, there was no white wine, so I settled for a beer. Indeed, there’s been an almost complete absence of white wine on the entire trip. In fact, I had an experience the other day which reminded me very much of an episode of The Simpsons. It’s the one where The Simpsons travel to Australia, and was when Marj went into a bar and tried to order a coffee. The barman replied “beer”. The exchange continued between them where Marj kept saying “coffee” (even spelling it out) and the barman replied “beer”. The other day I tried to order a glass of wine in a hotel bar, and a similar exchange ensued.
Shanghai
As we ended the day there was a little bit of sadness in the group, as eight of us (including Sue and I) are ending the trip tomorrow and returning home, while the others are continuing on a four-day river trip. “I know I’ll see you in the morning, but I’d still like to give you a hug tonight”, a woman from Adelaide called Carrie said to me, as we entered the hotel lift. There have been some really nice people on the bus with whom we’ve shared some wonderful moments of insight and humour.
The view from The Rooftop of the East Village Pub in Sydney is pretty bloody good. There’s no glimpse of The Harbour of The Bridge or the Oprah House or anything like that, but you most certainly have a pretty bloody good view of Central Sydney.
I was there tonight by a mate from work whose wife has a small company which was celebrating their tenth anniversary. It was the second time I’d been there, the first time being for a film industry event. And as with then, you couldn’t have picked a more attractive night to go out. It was warm, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, it was celebratory, and there were lots of interesting people to chat with.
It was just the right thing to do on a Tuesday night after a busy day at work. You know how some jobs wind down towards this time of the year? I actually get busier, and so I barely have time to scratch myself at the moment. Several significant deadlines are due right now at work. I knocked off the first today. More to come throughout the week and then yay… it’s the weekend againb :)
I’m currently in Norrköping, about 75 minutes south-west of Stockholm (via the fast train). It was never one of those towns I really wanted to see like Kiruna or Narvik (on my last trip). I came here on a bit of a whim: to see Helen Sjöholm live in concert.
Helen is a Swedish singer who has worked extensively with Bjorn and Benny in their musicals, with Benny in his BAO, and as a performer on stage and screen. In fact, she is probably best “unknown” from her role in the film, “Sa som I himlen” (“as it is in heaven”) which screened for two or three years at a cinema in Sydney. She’s the woman who lives with domestic violence.
So, a bit of a whim, but why not?
After a good night’s sleep I woke early this morning. Although I was tempted to go out last night to check out the nightlife of Stockholm, the lure of central heating kept me rugged up in my hotel room. I watched some television, including a Swedish dancing program called, “Let’s Dance” which was reasonably easy to follow.
And there was a Norwegian chat show which featured, amongst others, Al Gore as a special guest. As a language exercise it was quite interesting, since the program was conducted in English, Swedish and Norwegian, often simultaneously. The bits in Norwegian and English were both subtitled in Swedish which was good practice for me. I find that I can read better than I can listen, so if only the people of Stockholm could walk around with Swedish subtitles, and I’d be very happy.
I actually skim-read a newspaper this morning, concentrating on the bits that interested me most, such as tonight’s Melodifestivalen.
I also noticed a new subset of guests had arrived at the hotel, members of the Centre Party (which I think is a bit like The Democrats were, though I could be wrong).
With a wonderful late check out at The Clarion – midday – I wandered in to town to purchase my train ticket to Norrköping. I also spent some time walking around Djurgarden which looks absolutely stunning with all the snow. And in such contrast to the last time I was here when there were boats sailing up and down the water and the grass was lush enough to have a good afternoon sleep on. You couldn’t do that now.
And yet, in the midst of the sub-zero temperatures I’m starting to feel quite okay. It must be the sun which is genuinely warm on your face. Don’t be surprised if I come home with a tan. For the last two days I’ve been feeling a little “rugged up” with my many layers of clothing. But today, as I walked about wearing a shirt, a scarf, a jumper and my puffer jacket, I suddenly didn’t feel so fat anymore. Well, not fat looking anyway.
The river on the right, the path and the gardens of Djurgarden
Everywhere you go people are wearing much the same clothing. People seem to express their individuality in both their scarves and their headgear. I wasn’t going to say anything before this, in case I was being culturally insensitive about traditional Sami (indigenous people of Sweden) headgear, but these Swedes wear some crazy things on their heads during winter.
I’ve seen a lot of hand-knitted by mormor (grandma) beanies and far too many “Daniel Boone” hats. And, although I understand the cultural background associated with full-length fur coats, I note that it’s “crazy looking older women” who wear them, not the stylish young things of today.
This afternoon I caught the train to Norrköping. Along the way we passed through endless fields of snow which, to be honest, looks a little bit the same after a while. I wonder if this is how Swedes feel when they catch trains in Australia passing through endless hours of gum trees? Australians of course, can see the difference between different types of bushlands, and I’m sure the Swedes can see more variety in the snow than I can.
The arrival in Norrköping was a bit of a surprise. It shouldn’t have been, but it was. But after the last few days in Stockholm, I was quickly reminded I had arrived in a country town. In home terms, I’m guessing it’s a Newcastle or a Hobart. It’s not a village, but it’s also not a huge city either. It’s large enough to have an arts scene and a university, but it’s still small enough for a weekend afternoon to include “doing a blockie”. And thus on a Saturday afternoon, the streets were reasonably empty, although there was a lot of activity around the service station and the railway station.
Having eventually found a tourist map, I found my hotel. It’s not as glamorous as The Clarion, but it’s quite nice, nonetheless. Although it’s a hotel – Hotel Drott – it has the feeling of a bed and breakfast. The room is large enough for one, although the television is large enough for five. It’s huge.
A late afternoon beer followed at The Bishops Arms which was near perfect aside from awful music they played on the public address system.
It was bland reggae influenced cover versions of songs by, amongst others, The Beatles and Bob Dylan. Can you imagine? By the way, later tonight I went into another pub, and they were playing awful reggae as well. And that was at another English-style pub. It must be this towns thing.
One of the things which struck me immediately on arrival was the cultural diversity of the place. There were, seemingly, lots of faces from the Middle East and Southern Europe. I think I read somewhere that Norrköping has been home to many, many migrants. And you can see it reasonably instantly when you arrive in town. You can also see it in the churches in town, as there’s both a synagogue and a Methodist church not far from where I’m staying.
After my beer, I came home briefly and then headed quickly to the concert hall where the show was being held.
By the time I arrived – twenty minutes before the show – the place was already packed with gays and greys. It was like going out for a night of theatre in Sydney (or Wagga, for that matter).
Although I’d booked the ticket a few months ago, I hadn’t looked closer at the detail, aside from the show featuring Helen Sjoholm, the Norrköpings Symfoniorkester and Fredrik Lycke. I was both pleased and disappointed that it was a tribute to Stephen Sondheim. I love Sondheim, but I also hoped Helen might do a few of her other hits. But that wasn’t to be, although there was a joke earlier in the show when Helen began to sing her bit hit song from Kristina, and then stopped saying “not tonight”.
It was a terrific show, featuring some of my favourite Sondheim numbers including, “Losing My Mind” (sung by Fredrik) and “Another Hundred People” (sung by Helen). I would have LOVED Helen to have sung, “Ladies Who Lunch” but that wasn’t to be. It was fascinating to hear some of the songs sung in Swedish and some of them sung in English. Helen, of course, sang beautifully, though if push came to shove, I’d admit a preference for when she sings in Swedish. She sounds so much more dramatic in Swedish, which I guess is partly because she softens her consonant sounds when she sings in English.
I also learned a few interesting cultural things tonight about concert going in a Swedish country town tonight, such as the intermission snack, with many people having pre-ordered a table and meal, and the cloak room. Let me tell you, the queue to get out of a concert where EVERYONE has handed in something into the cloak-room rivals Sydney airport check-in on a really bad day.
Helen Sjoholm on stage in Norrkoping
After the show I wandered out behind the concert hall and noticed a few of Helen’s fans standing by the concert door. I’d noticed them earlier in the night as a group of four women sitting in the front row. At the end of the show they all brought out large cameras and snapped a few photographs which, interestingly, Helen acknowledged on stage with a smile and a pose.
Seeing the women lining up, I thought to myself, “why not wait around and check her out in person also”. She came out reasonably quickly, smiled, chatted and signed some photographs. As I didn’t have anything on me, I asked simply, “Helen, may I please take a photograph” which she happily said yes to. The rest of the crowd moved slightly aside, Helen struck a pose, and I got my photograph. I said, “thankyou” and moved on.
As I came in and out of my apartment block a few times today I kept an eye on the pile of “White Pages” on the door-step. Would anyone actually collect them?
For at least the last five years, I’ve noticed almost no-one from my block bothers to pick them up. The pile remains there, mostly untouched, until it disappears a few weeks later. I’ve noticed the slim-down Easter Suburbs version is often picked up, but the larger versions of White and Yellow pages, are almost never taken.
It was a day of “chores” for me. I needed to replace some washers in the shower, and I needed a new cable for my computer. So I was in and out of the building a few times today. I also had a few other minor chores to worry about. At the end of the day, having completed these chores, I felt quite satisfied.
Don’t ask me what else happened today… as there’s nothing else to report.
Two months ago, when I first booked my flight home to Lismore for Christmas, my expected mobility was uncertain. I didn’t know if I would still be in a wheelchair, or getting around easily with my prosthetic leg. A colleague with disability (she also has prosthetic limbs) urged me to book a wheelchair, as “It’s one of the few advantages of living with disability, so you might as well make use of it.”
Contrary to a misconception amongst some friends and family that I wouldn’t “need” a wheelchair once I had my prosthetic leg, there is always the chance I will need to use a wheelchair again. The experience of learning to walk again after an amputation can be non-linear. While I haven’t used the wheelchair in about six weeks, the possibility of needing it again remains, especially if I might be unable to wear my prosthetic for various reasons.
All of this research also led me to explore the option of hiring a wheelchair while home in Lismore, and fortunately, our local South Lismore chemist offers a range of accessibility gear for hire.
I arranged for wheelchair assistance at the airport, too, just in case I needed it. However, upon arrival at Sydney Airport on Sunday, I informed the check-in staff that I wouldn’t require a wheelchair after all. A family in the queue behind me, with an elderly mother hoping for a wheelchair, overheard the conversation and, with the staff’s cooperation, arranged for her to use my wheelchair instead. They were a very happy family, and it was no skin off my nose.
Apprehensive about getting to and from Sydney Airport by public transport (as I normally would), I elected for an Uber ride, despite the peak hour price surge. The driver lived on the North Coast for a few years and we had lovely chat.
I was also worried about the length of the walkway between Terminals 1 and 2 (Qantas Club and Jet Star Checkin). Although there is an electric walkway between the two terminals, it goes too quickly for me to get on and off safely at the moment. Fortunately, there are also lifts between airport levels, despite one sounding like it was on its last legs, no pun unintended.
The airport security staff, understanding the challenge posed by my prosthetic limb, used a hand-held scanner, as I couldn’t walk through the x-ray scanner. They even offered a walking stick when my crutch needed to go through the scanner, with a security officer providing support for balance.
At the end, one of the assistants asked, “Do you prefer a lift or escalator?” This thoughtful approach, giving me the choice rather than making assumptions, was appreciated.
The only drawback was the distance to Gate 56 for my flight. Reflecting on a previous conversation I had with a colleague who also has prosthetic limbs about the potential advantages of using a wheelchair, she mentioned the possibility of long walks.
Upon reaching the Jetstar counter, I was greeted warmly, and an attendant offered a seat upgrade, securing an entire row for me.
Approaching Ballina Airport
Although I was first to be allowed on the plane, I was also the last to get off. At Ballina Airport there is only a staircase down onto the tarmac, though the option existed to use a lift up and down from the aircraft.
Though I didn’t need to use some of the accessibility assistance for the trip, it’s nice to know they exist. And of course, I should emphasize these were my experiences, and the experiences of other people with disability might be quite different.
My takeaway messages from this experience in case you need assistance. 1. Assume you might, just in case you do. The airline staff seemed to really appreciate the advance notice, rather than turning up unannounced. You can always change your mind if the circumstances change. 2. Have a conversation with your airline through chat or phone, so you understand what might be possible.
Though it’s probably going to turn out to be some terrible advertising campaign, I’m hoping it’s not. These simple, thoughtful posters have been appearing around Surry Hills and Darlinghurst in Sydney. I’ll keep adding them, if they keep appearing.
These simple, thoughtful posters have been appearing around Surry Hills and Darlinghurst in Sydney.
Surry Hills Posters
These simple, thoughtful posters have been appearing around Surry Hills and Darlinghurst in Sydney.
These simple, thoughtful posters have been appearing around Surry Hills and Darlinghurst in Sydney.
