Finally back home ...

Well, I ended up not being able to post before I left Australia, which was ok. My last day there consisted of buying a muffin for breakfast, catching the train, then riding on an airplane over the ocean for about 12 and a half hours, before catching another plane back to Portland.

My time in Australia was fantastic, and it is still hard to believe today that I am back home, with absolutely nowhere to go. I feel like going and walking around the gardens or exploring other parts of the city before I have to tell myself that I am back in Eugene, and need to get back to work.

To everyone in the family, I'm glad you enjoyed the blog, as I had a lot of fun writing for it each day. It was a great way for me to reflect on everything that I had done and seen on the day, and I'm happy to say that I'll be doing the same when Ted and I go to China in the fall as internet usage permits. We'll be there for a whole month, so keeping up on the blog will be the best way to have a peek into what we are up to on the other side of the world.

As for the blog, I'm really going to scale it down, if not stop posting until China, as I know the few of you that do read this are bored by me in real life about constant talk of my thesis, and you don't need a second helping of it on the internet as well. But do come back starting at the end of September, as I'll be getting reading to head off to China for the time of my life with Ted in tow, and we should have a great adventure of which I want to share with you all, right here on the blog.

And a big thanks to all the family members who sent me compliments ... I'm just glad I wasn't doing all of that typing for nothing! :)

Day 7: Sydney

Today was my last day in Sydney. It has been a great week, but I felt that I needed to go to the park one more time to get some work done, so I headed out early and caught the 8:10 train to Lindcombe so that I could see more of the armaments depot on the north end of the site.

Once I arrived at the park it was much busier than usual, being the weekend and all. There were car clubs racing around the roads, bikers everywhere, and teenagers coming to use the sporting facilities with parents in tow. I'm glad I got to see the park in this way, as during the week it had been largely deserted except for the occasional couples on a stroll, a few bikers, and of course the workers from near-by office buildings mulling around the park.

I don't know what it is, but I always seemed to get turned around in Australia. Maybe it is the whole below the equator thing, but I always feel like I am heading the right direction, and I will be going the exact opposite direction. This happened to me numerous times today, as I ended up in the suburb of Newington (which is south of the armaments depot), and when I was trying to find the ferry, I promptly walked myself all the way to the exact opposite tip of the park than were the ferry is located. That was loads of fun.

But back to Newington, I finally found the armaments depot, and I had a lot of fun there. My camera ran out of batteries not that long after I got there, but I found the area fascinating, and was glad that I came on a Saturday, as it is only open on weekends and holidays. There were a lot of people enjoying the area, which is fantastic considering it is right across the street from none other than the Silverwater Correctional Facility, with its four layers fencing and all. It was kind of crazy because there is fencing all around the depot, so you feel like you shouldn't be there until you can see the interpretive displays and street signs directing you around the area. It is even more confusing because some of the storage facilities would be roped off, but others you could approach and walk around, like the one you see to the left.

Maybe one of the greatest things about the area was building 18, which looked very innocuous from the exterior. But upon the urging of one of the park rangers that just happened to be going by on his bike, I walked back to the building to find that it was an art gallery devoted to showing art that had been produced on site at the park. I guess that some of the old armory buildings are now used as art studios, and not only did they have art that had been produced on site, but it was also dedicated to telling the story of the transformation of this place from an industrial wasteland to a place of sport. It even outlined the more recent transition of the park from purely an international sporting facility into a community of athletes, artists, and adventure seekers.

On the fringe of the depot, one of the buildings, adjacent to the cranes on the Parramatta river that were used to lift the arms out of the ships coming in from Sydney so they could be safely stored in one of the many bunkers on site, had been re-used as a cafe. There was beautiful river seating outside, which continued past the cafe, where bubbling fountains lined rows of long tables and benches that accompanied BBQ areas for public use. The tables were shaded by the same kind of camo netting that the army uses in the desert, which made the wood tables and benches seemingly disappear into the landscape. It was beautifully done, and sat along the river walk, a trail that traverses the northern edge of the site. All along the trail there are large benches for people to enjoy the view, which is incredible considering that just 20 years ago this place was a polluted wasteland where no one would have thought to come to enjoy their Saturday afternoon.

As I thought it was important to experience as many transportation modes as I could in the park while there, I decided to take the rivercat back to Darling Harbour from the park. The ride was fairly laid back, except for the whining of a child who was overwhelmed by the experience. The first 20 minutes were fine, as he kept shouting, "Boout! Boout!" But then we came upon even more boats docked along the river, he went crazy as he couldn't wrap his head around all of the boats, and just starting crying, the poor kid. By the time I got off of the boat at Darling Harbour, he was beet red and looked like he had had a hard ride, poor little fella.

While I was mulling a visit to the aquarium, I decided I had my fill of kids screaming for the day and decided to pass. I went shopping instead, picking up some books before I headed down to the Rocks to find the market I had stumbled upon on Sunday. I had been tempted by some wood beads there before, and decided that I should treat myself to one gift as a memento of my time in Sydney. While I could have called it good with the ugly ten dollar watch and the library card, I decided to splurge on what turned out being a long necklace made of coconut wood, which has a rich, dark color. The beads were beautiful, so I shelled out the last of my Australian cash, $25 for it. Knowing I was out of cash until I got my key deposit back tomorrow when I check out, I decided I was done buying anything for the day except for some food. I decided Italian sounded good, and I got some expensive but good Spaghetti and ate it on one of the benches overlooking the harbor.

Getting on the train to go to Town Hall was kind over bittersweet. I realized once I hopped onto the train that that was the last time that I would be taking in the view at the harbor for quite a while. It was always a favorite of mine to grab some food from nearby and just relax, watching the ferries come in and out of the bay, see people crawling all over the opera house like ants on an abandoned picnic basket, and watch brave souls attempt to feed the birds without getting outright attacked.

Because it was still so early, I decided walk the malls again downtown, which was fun. Not fun because I found stuff I liked or anything like that, but because I realized how great we have it in the US. Things that I could easily get for $50 in the US were going for $120, which quickly helped me realize why Sydneysiders are so serious about their clothes: that is the only way you could spend the money it takes to adequately dress yourself in the city. I would stroll into shop after shop and browse through $350 dresses and $120 shirts, and these weren't even in the top tier stores. My favorite high prices of the day were bras from the equivalent of a Victoria's Secret for $150, a cotton dress at Ralph Lauren for over $800, and a plain white dress with some beads on it for over $3,000 in a department store. No wonder the one department store I went into with a sale had lines out the door ...

While my last day here was not that eventful, I have to say that I had a great time here in Sydney. Being a lone female traveler, the city was very friendly, as I never felt threatened or scared anywhere I traveled. And even though some of the cultural differences did begin to bother me by the end of the week, it was a great experience being outside of my very comfortable bubble back home, as I feel re-energized and ready to start working again on my thesis.

I plan on doing one more blog post from Australia, so do check in tomorrow ...

Day 6: Sydney

As my time here in Sydney is coming to an end, I had the realization yesterday that I needed to more work on my thesis, the whole reason I came here. So I got out of tourist mode, left my camera at home (sorry to those who enjoy the pictures), and decided to spend the day at the State Library of New South Whales.

There's nothing more exciting than getting a new library card, nonetheless from a library half a world away. Now if I ever need a good research library, I know where to go. The library was really beautiful in a simple way, with a gorgeous reading room (that was closed for renovations), and glass walls looking out to underground courtyards and subterranean sections of the over 100 year old building. The staff was very helpful in getting my account started, and within 10 minutes of turning in my call slips I was diving into my first book of the day. While most of the information I gleaned today was information I already had, I did get to read a very important document, the Sydney Regional Environmental Plan No. 24 ( or the SREP 24 for those in the know), which outlines in great detail the measures to be taken when it comes to protection of heritage monuments at Homebush Bay. I read five other documents until my eyes started bugging out of my head, and called it a day when I noticed it was already almost 4:00.

But when I stepped outside and noticed it was still fairly early, I decided to check out the contemporary art museum before I caught the train home, as the museum is about a block away from from the circular quay station. They were housing an exhibit by Latin American artists, so I thought it was worth checking out, especially after my ramblings on contemporary art just a few days ago.

The first few levels of the museum were typical. They were the fixed installations, and they were all horrid, except for a video that actually got me to stay and watch for a few minutes. What drew me in was the fact that it kind of scared me, as it was a huge screen with choppy waves in the middle of the ocean, with haunting music in the background. For a while it was just the waves, but in anticipation in seeing what was coming, I stood in the back of the empty room too see what was next. A woman then appeared out of nowhere in the water, swimming through the waves in a simple white outfit. She would swim, and then look as if she was losing energy, and slip quietly underwater. The first time this happened, she looked peaceful for a while, then seemed to wake from her stupor to rise to the top of the water again and swim against the waves. But then she dips under the water for a second time where again she looks at peace, with a mysterious creature that swims behind her as she seems to fall deeper before the camera raises out of the water without her in sight.

But the true stars of the show were in the Latin American exhibit. What is painfully obvious from the exhibit is that these artists have an identity problem, with the United Stated to blame. One installation simply stated that the United States is not the only country in "America", as South and Central America is largely forgotten. As a foreigner who always has to explain that "I'm from Oregon" and then after the pause add "In the States, north of California" to gain some kind of comprehension from the other person, I fully understand the strange feeling when your own identity relies on a common familiarity of a culture that is not your own. One of my favorite exhibits displaying this identity crisis was by Nadin Ospina. He masterfully creates figures and pottery that look as if they are pre-Columbian artifacts, but uses very noticeable figures (in these pieces he used Disney figures) as the object. For instance, he had a very native looking Micky Mouse with piercings and tribal tattoos, and one of my favorites was Minnie Mouse with a large Buddha belly. There was also what looked to be a relic bowl with Donald Duck heads for the feet. It was a fabulous installation, and I wish I could have seen more of his work.

Another favorite was Betsabee Romero. Her work centered around cars, with the first installation being photographs of abandoned cars that she had decorated on the streets of Mexico City. My personal favorite was a green bug which had been crazily decorated, and stood in front of street graffiti of a similar green bug on the wall behind it. While she had some other great photos from temporary installations, she also had tire treads that she had carved out with cool patterns and used as printmaking tools, with the proof on canvas. The patterns included roses, diamonds, and skulls, and it was great to see the quality of print that she could get from using the wheels as a print tool.

I also wanted to mention the work of Priscilla Monge, who had a series of boomerangs (how appropriate for Australia, right?) with messages such as "bastardo" and "pervertido", as well as other insults in Spanish. I loved the simple message with this simple installation: karma is a bitch, you had it coming, and you knew it all along. Love it.

And finally, I think the best in show would have to go to Vik Muniz. At first glance, it looked like his work was well-treaded territory. But with a closer look, one could see the layers unfold in very unexpected ways. He uses very interesting mediums to recreate very familiar images: on his website you can see one of those images I saw today, which is a portrait of Sigmund Freud done in chocolate sauce. Another favorite was Marilyn Monroe shaped from diamonds. But the show stopper was none other than the very famous image of a defiant Che Guevara formed from black bean soup. I've never seen a piece like it before, and in a museum full of pieces where you briefly look and move along, the works of Vik Muniz, Priscilla Monge, Betsabee Romero, and Nadin Ospina were engaging examples of mixed media that made you laugh, but more importantly think about your everyday perception of things, whether that be abandoned cars and their inner potential, or how fun it would be to create iconic images with what is being served for dinner.

After my diatribe on modern art a few days ago, I feel like there is some hope. I saw some very talented artists on display, which managed to challenge without making you feel that that was what they were going for. They also made you think, and look at the underlying message without being preachy or too edgy. Their work was creative, yet accessible, and obviously took talent to create. I just wish more Americans took a clue from these talents to the south, who are understated in the most fabulous of ways. I have to say, it was some of the most wonderful modern art I have seen in a very long time, and was a breath of fresh air from an emerging art scene that will no doubt be taking the world by storm.

After being delightfully surprised at the museum, I found myself feeling like a local, riding the evening train home with my copy of MX in hand. The MX is the extremely fun gossip/political/sports/city rail bitching rag that is handed out to commuters during rush our, and like everything else in public areas in Sydney, free. I joyfully read the Hollywood gossip I don't care about as I was just so happy to have a productive day today, especially since tomorrow is my last day here. I know yesterday I was starting to let the city get to me, and some of its aspects still bore me, but like any situation, I just need to look on the brighter side of things. Sydney on the whole, while it is cookie cutter, has some great places to experience that make up for the drab people that populate it.

But you know, that almost makes the experience even more fun. I love walking around on my own, doing my own thing in a town full of people doing the same thing, because it makes me feel like I'm just enjoying it more. Just because the locals are stiff, the food is overpriced and flavorless, and I can only get a good cup of coffee at one place in town doesn't take away the experiences I've had mountain biking in the Olympic Park, exploring the opera house, eating meals overlooking the ferries coming in and out of the harbor, and looking at every single piece of art possible in the museums around town. I've had a great time here, and I look forward to my last day out on the town.

Day 5: Sydney

The ferry system in Sydney is fairly comprehensive. Depending on how far out you are riding, you can get just about anywhere on the other side of the bay in a half hour or under. Today, although I have been in Sydney for close to a week, I had my first experience on the ferry as I spent the day at Taronga Zoo and Manly Beach.

The ferry that runs to the zoo is much smaller than the large yellow and green ferries that run to places like Manly, but they offer faster service and ergonomic chairs, even on the front and back decks. From my very comfortable chair in the back of the boat, I had a great view of the harbor bathed in the winter morning light. Within minutes we had pulled out form Circular Quay and traversed pass the opera house, docking below the entrance to the zoo.

What makes the Taronga Zoo so one of a kind is its elevation. Perched atop a hill, it has some of the most spectacular views of downtown Sydney than you can get anywhere else in the city. True to the theme of my visit thus far, I decided to skip the bus and the gondola which take visitors up the hill to the entrance and hoof it. I quickly noticed that the sidewalk soon trailed off into a sandy, tropical feeling area, which I quickly found out to be a national park. Thank goodness it was well signed, because my short walk up the hill ended up being about an hour long hike up to the zoo. I got lost and turned around, but I kept following my intuition from what information the maps gave me, and eventually figured that if I walked far enough around the hill and came up to the zoo from the back side, there had to be a parking lot and entrance for cars since there was not one at the ferry side entrance.

Sure enough I was able to find the front entrance, but I got a great walk in on the way. Again, I found myself in a similar situation as when I was wondering in the Mangroves yesterday; I was so close to the city and civilization, yet I felt so far away from it all. Besides some joggers and walkers that I shared the path with, it was just me and birds, trickling waterfalls, and little creatures rustling around in the brush below. The experience definitely wet my appetite for the zoo.

I have to admit, every day I have been in Sydney I have taken a progressively more and more pictures, and today was no exception. Needless to say I took so many pictures at the zoo that I thought I would let the photos do most of the talking.



















After spending most of the afternoon at the zoo, I took the ferry back to Circular Quay and immediately caught the ferry to Manly. While it was nice to see the other side of the Pacific, I felt a little let down. The whole experience at Manly was very "canned", and the beach wasn't even that big. If anything the experience just solidified my dislike of Sydney fashion, and didn't do much else for me. I know I've already ragged on the business men and women on the trains, but at least they are up to date. All of the people my age I saw today looked like they never left the 80's. I came up with the theory today that possibly because as school children they wear uniforms, Sydneysiders as young adults just don't know how to dress themselves, and therefore follow the latest "trend", which for an American is about 2 0r 3 years old, and wasn't even that cool in the states. The standard is this: take any drab looking tunic, preferably something with a square neck and big buttons that looks like it was hand made in the 70's, and throw it over either skinny jeans or leggings. Throw on either boots or flats, and you are the average woman under 30 years old in the greater Sydney area. Even looking past everyone dressing exactly the same (yes, even the guys), the moms look all the same with their prams (strollers), all the suburbs look the same, and all the stores are the same. They sell the same clothes, the same food, and the same bad coffee.

Don't get me wrong, I've had a great time here in Sydney, but I guess I miss the familiarity of the quirks of home as I grow tired of the quirks I see in people half way around the world.

Day Four: Sydney

How do my legs hurt. Even with all of the walking that I have been doing in Sydney, no one could have prepared me for the day I had today.

It started, as usual, early, but not as early. I woke up at a very late 6:00, and was on the train by 7:30 heading out to the Olympic Park. Unlike the trains heading into the city, the trains going west are always fairly empty until the end of the work day, when all of the suburbanites are heading home from their jobs in the skyscrapers downtown. In a drastic change of clientele, I was now sharing the train with hordes of school children, all in very English uniforms, riding the train to school. I got to overhear all about Sophie's triumphant return from Paris, how she got to shop at an Abercrombie in London, and I even scoffed when she complained about her 13 hour plane ride from Paris to Singapore. Please. I just did 13 and a half on Sunday, and I'm about to do it again in a few days time. Kids these days.

Once I reached the park I had a couple of hours before my second appointment with Craig, so I decided to check out the Brick Pit. It is the area where the state brickworks was located up until 1998, and was built about 77 years earlier. Once an area filled with buildings devoted to making millions of bricks that helped to build Sydney, this area was initially proposed to be infilled and a retail area built on top. This was all stopped when local authorities discovered that the endangered Green and Golden Bell Frogs have made a home for themselves in this former industrial area. Because of this realization, the Sydney Olympic Park Authority decided to set the land aside as a natural and cultural heritage conservation area, and erected what they call the Ring Walk so that visitors to the park can experience all the area has to offer.

I was really surprised by the effect this place had on me. It was so quiet, except for the birds and the frogs that could be heard chirping and croaking in the distance. Not only was the Ring Walk a unique sight that seemed to be a perfect fit for the area, but it was also interpreted with a great amount of care. The same panels which create the outer edge of the walk in some sections have interpretive information on such topics as wildlife in the area, the geological history of the pit, the technology behind its storm water collection as part of a massive recycled water campaign at the park, and my personal favorite, the interpretation of the brickworks. While most of the buildings were removed after the works closed, six small buildings still remain but are brought to life by not only ambient sound that recreates the sounds of the works, but also by the oral histories of men who once long ago worked in the pit. The mastery of it all is that you can't even hear these sounds until you begin to approach that section of the ring. The sounds start softly, and I assumed some work was starting near by, until I spotted the speakers mounted above the interpretive panels. I sat in one of the few fold down seats along the ring and took it all in, complete with a few of the Olympic Park across the water.

But as I looked down at my watch, I quickly realized that I had to get going over to the SOPA (Sydney Olympic Park Authority) building, which was all the way across from the aquatic center. I had a second appointment with Craig, who upon my arrival escorted me into a meeting room with a bright yellow door and a large clear 2 emblazoned into the frosted glass windows which formed the fourth wall of the room. He had a pile of planning documents for me, some as early as 1990, for me to read through.

Craig has been an angel for me in my time here. Always the gentlemen, he would come in and check on me in between meetings, seeing if I needed more time reserved in the room, and even made me a cup of coffee when I was entering hour number three of frantic reading and writing. Four hours into the research session, he delivered on his promise to check out a bike for me, and introduced me to the man who would give me the key to the shed out back. Almost an hour later when my eyes could no longer focus, I decided my time researching at SOPA had come to an end, and it was time to go out for a ride.

On my official SOPA bike, complete with helmet and a bright yellow safety vest I immediately stuffed into my already heavy shoulder bag, I was off to find the Newington Armaments Depot. Although I did have a small map of the park, I went on to get thoroughly lost in the most amazing of ways in the mangroves that line the east end of the park. I rode the same trails over and over numerous times, getting lost, doing some off-roading on muddy trails with barely enough clearance for my bike, and coming across this boardwalk in the middle of it all. The park lands were so sprawling that I kept getting turned around on my way to the Depot, and what I thought would be a leisurely ride with over two hours until I needed to return the bike at 5:00, turned into a sprint to the finish as I didn't find the Depot until 4:30.

But my adventures through the parklands were by far the most exhilarating experience I have had in Sydney. My legs burning, the winter sun at its highest point in the sky, my shoulder bag weighing hard against my chest, I felt more alive than I have in a long time. And you know, it really solidified my thoughts on the Olympic Park as a whole being able to experience it in that way.

While before today I had seen the very sterile areas of the park that were filled with tourists and the sparse spattering of families and couples just enjoying the space, the real joy of the park is the heritage areas and the parklands. The acres of bike trails and natural space makes one feel like they are miles away from anything, as they connect heritage areas that are both informative and mysterious. Take the Armaments Depot for example. Thousands of bombs were stored here at one time, and as Craig whispered to me today, they still have a few there, which means that the area is restricted. What a strange feeling to be one minute in a well-interpreted heritage area like the brick pit, and the next, be in an equally important heritage area like the Depot which other than the track for the trolley which hauled the bombs from one area to another, can only be experienced through fencing and veiled sight lines.

As the sun began to set early, I found myself having a hard time leaving. There was so much more I wanted to see, and even though my legs felt like jelly, I wanted to experience more of the park. But with such an early bed time these days, I knew it was best to get back home and relax so that I can have plenty of energy for the zoo and Manly Beach tomorrow. This whole one day at the park with one day off to sight see has done well by me, so I think I'm going to stick to it until I depart for San Francisco on Sunday afternoon.

Sydney Olympic Park is a place of transition. It is easy to look at the large open spaces and get kind of depressed. It takes a while to get there compared to other destinations on the City Rail, and because it is so huge, it looks mostly deserted, most of the time. But what one has to remember is that this area will be the largest urban revitalization effort in Australia, and possibly the world. The New South Wales government had a swath of land that was not only polluted, but had the remnants of the largest abattoir in Australia, an armaments depot, a brick works, and even a prison, and knew that at some point and time, with its central location in the metropolitan area, it would be redeveloped. One of their proposals would have cleaned the slate clean and sold the land off parcel by parcel to private investors. Other proposals would have built a few sporting facilities, and would again sell remaining land off to developers. Instead, they chose to leave an environmental and heritage legacy for the greater Sydney area which will stand as a testament to the devotion of the Australian people to their heritage; built, natural, and in relation to sport. What a feat.

Day Three: Sydney

My day started at 4:00 this morning, as I have finally accepted defeat on adjusting to local time. But I actually don't mind waking up that early: I have plenty of time to plan my day, send off emails, and I avoid the evening rush hour on the train. It is that damn early sunset, as it isn't even 6:00 PM local time and it is already pitch black outside. My body can't believe that it is early in the day, or that it is winter, so I've been finding myself passing out at 7:00. Yep, I'm going wild in Sydney.

I was going to go to the Olympic Park today, but then I decided that since I have an appointment to go back and do research tomorrow, that I would just make a day of it then, and spend today relaxing a bit. I decided to get some breakfast down by Circular Quay, so I walked down to the train station only to find that I had picked the worst time of day to catch a train. I had arrived during the 8:30 rush hour, as hordes of sharply dressed people packed the platform with me.

I was actually quite happy that there was a crowd, as it meant that I had the opportunity to people watch. Bopping away to the Shins, I took notes on some scrap paper about the people around me; what I noticed was that everyone was dressed in boring but classy black clothing, and seemed to have no personality whatsoever. Oh, Sydneysiders - because they have it all figured out, they have no distinguishable characteristics.

Once the first train came and went (there was literally no room as people were pressing up very uncomfortably against one another) most of the people on the platform had to pass up the sardine can and wait for the next train, which at least you could stand in without feeling like you were sharing an intimate moment with the person next to you. After most of the riders got off at Central and Town Hall, I actually got my own seat, and rode comfortably on to Circular Quay, where I found a nice little outdoor cafe to have some mediocre eggs with cheese and tomato with white toast and espresso. I thought the experience really summed up my food experience thus far in Sydney, although I admit I've only purchased four meals since my arrival. The food selection is very strange, very English, and for the most part, meh. I have yet to get any sushi or Thai, so I'll keep my mind open and make judgments later.

I kind of lied earlier, because it was at that moment eating my meh breakfast when I saw that across the street was the Royal Botanical Gardens. While I originally intended to take the ferry to the aquarium or the Olympic Park, the garden was taunting me with a beautiful sculpture, and I knew what I had to do. I paid for breakfast and quickly hopped across the street to see this incredible sight. It was a beautiful fountain, of which I kind of read what is was erected for, but I was too taken aback by the artistry and was letting my camera do my thinking for me. Seeing this work of art juxtaposed against the Sydney skyline was just an amazing sight, and I was instantly hooked into exploring the gardens for the day.

I was very surprised at the amount of bats in the park. They were everywhere, making it hard for me to look up into some of the trees. Call me crazy, but I really didn't like looking up at those beady little black eyes, knowing that at any moment I could have a furry little animal dive-bombing for my head. But you know, between the bats, some little animal trying to take a bite out of my knee when I was taking a picture, and all of the birds and ducks hanging out, I really felt like I was away from the city, which was great. The plants were also impressive, but my favorite section would have to be the succulent garden. While simple, the color was beautiful, and they were really some of the only flowering plants in the whole garden, besides a sparse flower here or there.

After I wandered around the garden for a few hours, I decided to hop over to the art museum, which is right across the street. What a great choice. First, the art museums in Sydney are free. Yes, free. I was expecting to get the shake-down when I walked in the door, but I was surprised instead to see a bustling museum. There were people everywhere, from gray haired museum junkies, to young couples, and my favorite, a large group of school children dressed in matching blue sweat suits. I think it had to be one of the cutest things I have ever seen. They wandered around in groups of about 7 and got lessons about art from volunteers. What a fabulous place. There was even a group of older school kids who were getting a lecture about post-modernism on the upper level: it was such a stimulating place that I looked at every single exhibit housed under the roof.

While there were a few notable classical paintings, the real gem was the Islamic art exhibition. While that one exhibit did cost a few bucks to get in, it was well worth the money, as it had to be one of the best collections I have ever seen. I saw everything from a mini Abassid caliphate Qur'an from the 10th century, the only known Qur'an to be dyed in Indigo, Iranian rugs and bowls, and a warrior's mask, to panels that had decorated the Ka'ba, amazing atsrolabes with sanskrit translations and Persian poetry inscribed on them, and emerald, ruby, and diamond encrusted daggers. There was lustreware, glassware, and silk tapestries. There were manuscripts from the Mongol Empire which depict such events as Buddha reaching enlightenment, Jonah being eaten by the whale, and Moses punishing those who worshiped the golden calf. There were tiles with Surrahs painted onto them with the same stencils used on the Dome of the Rock, elephant shaped incense burners, and gold saddles that were used in battle. It was breathtaking. At one point I stood in front of the panel that had hung on the Ka'ba and froze. This panel hung on one of the most sacred monuments in the world. Thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, or possibly millions of people came during the Hajj just to touch and circle the Ka'ba from which this panel was hung.

These kinds of exhibitions are why I am a museum rat. To sit there and look at a Qur'an that is over 1,000 years old, made from vellum and created by hand, is absolutely stunning. It forced me to contrast what I had seen within the Islamic exhibit to the modern art in other parts of the museum: while modern art is no doubt creative, all it seeks to do anymore is stun. It tries too hard to grab your attention, and is created by people who are no doubt creative visionaries, but visionaries with questionable talent. The artists of old were craftsmen who were true masters of their chosen medium, whether it be calligraphy, metal smithing, painting, or sculpting, who combined their talent with creativity to create beautiful objects that stop you in your tracks with their beauty. I can't help but feel that we have lost that long ago in the art world, and I hope that some talent emerges to take modern art out of its funk sooner than later.

Day Two: Sydney

My day started early today, as I am still having a bit of trouble adjusting to the time zone here in Sydney. It wouldn't be that bad of a problem if it weren't for the fact that it is pitch black by 6:00 in the evening, which is around 1:00 AM back home, although we are one day ahead here. This means that around the time I am used to going to bed around home, the sun is already starting to lower in the sky, making me think that it is the evening when in reality it will be 3:00 in the afternoon. Because of this I have gotten into the routine of waking up very early, and today I rolled out of bed around 6:00 AM local time. I decided to start off the day going downtown. I didn't have to be out to the Olympic Park until 3:00, so I thought it was an opportune time to check out the core of the city and grab some breakfast.

Upon arriving at the local train station, I quickly realized that I was a fish out of water. While I thought I may be overdressed in my suit shorts, black tank top, and elephant sweater complete with chacos, it turns out I was over dressed for this "winter" morning. Virtually every other person at the station, minus a kid that was harassed by a man with a fleece, scarf, and sweatpants about wearing only a t-shirt in the cold, was dressed in their winter finery. Now the people of Sydney are pretty sharp dressers, but on this very comfortable morning they were bundled up as if they were expecting snow on what turned out to be over a 60 degree day. Realizing that if I didn't look like a crazy foreigner before that I sure must now, I boarded the cramped train to central station, where I decided to wander towards the tallest buildings I could see.

What I found was the Town Hall. A beautiful English Gothic building amidst steel giants, I stopped to take a few pictures before I moved on to the underground mall directly below. I wanted to find a watch before I caught the train to the park so that I could make it on time to my appointment with Craig Bagely, who is the man in charge of sustainability issues there. Hours later, I found myself mulling over the possible purchase of a $500.00 watch with bamboo inlay. It first made me chuckle because it reminded me of a woody wagon, but then it won me over with its charm. Thank god I walked away and remembered that I was looking at bikes for that same price back home and quickly found a Wollworths where I bought a hideous watch for $9.95 that keeps the time with the best of them.

I couldn't believe the maze of malls in the city center ... first a Dior boutique, then a bargain-basement home ware store, then a tiny jewelery shop. Before you know it, you have already entered another mall, with almost similar stores of similar size. I did find one mall in a historic building (I know, I'm a nerd) where I stopped to eat my breakfast of fruit salad before any more pieces of it fell out in my bag. I'll probably make a tip back to do some shopping before I leave town ...

After finding a watch, it was time to head out to the Olympic Park. The train ride was pretty anxiety ridden, as I had to ride the line all the way out to Lindcombe, which is at the boundary line of my train ticket, and then take the Olympic Sprint (which was the slowest train I've been on by far) over to the park. But upon reaching the platform I was sobered up by the site of a funeral at a church literally right across the street from the platform. I felt like I was intruding on a private moment, until I realized that there was a busy street that ran right in front of the church; I'm sure the few people waiting for the sprint were the least of funeral-goers worries at that moment.

It took me getting off of the train at the park to fully understand the scale of it all. Even though I had given myself over two hours to look around before my appointment with the Sustainability Manager of the Sydney Olympic Park Authority, or SOPA, I only saw a small piece of the urban core. It was sprawling, with huge open spaces and public art everywhere. I was so taken with this area of the park that I really only scratched the surface of the parklands, and didn't even have the opportunity to see any of the heritage sites yet. What you see to the left is the old cauldron from the games. While it held a flame in 2000, it is now a water feature, which people are drawn to upon first entering the park. Upon further inspection, the cauldron sits in a plaza that has twisted lines reflecting that of the cauldron supports, which have all of the medal winners from the 2000 games inscribed on them. It seems like everywhere you look in the park, there is always something see, especially where you may least expect it.The mound you see, believe it or not, is a tribute of sorts to the past use of the site. This is where they store all of the powder which is a byproduct of the method used to get all of the dioxin out of the soil. The park, before it was transformed into a sporting facility, served as three major government agencies: there was the brickworks, the abattoir, and the armaments depot. Literally toms of waste were dumped into the soils here over the years, which had to be cleaned up before the games. But while many cities usually remove the chemicals and bury them somewhere else, in Sydney they used a new technology which sucks the dioxin out of the soil, neutralizes it, and then turns into a find powder, which was left in mounds throughout the site. As a part of their sustainability agenda, they did not want their waste to be someone else's problem, and wanted to deal with the problem in-house.

Planners at SOPA are very aware of the history of the site, and have as a part of their sustainability agenda included heritage conservation and education as priorities. As seen on the right, they know that before Australia was settled by Europeans a couple hundred years ago, that Aborigines passed through this site quite often, as it was a crossroads of sorts in between two important areas. Because of the somewhat tumultuous relationship between the white settlers and Aborigines historically seen in Australia, it was quite the step forward for the Games to give so much recognition to what Aboriginal culture has done to help form the present day site that is seen today.

While there weren't too many people at the park on this Monday afternoon, it was still bustling with activity, as numerous tour buses were coming and going, children were playing in every fountain, and there were even an abundance of skateboarders as one of the pavilions has be transformed into a skatepark. I was also told that there was a BMX and Motocross area on site as well, as SOPA is looking to make a niche for itself in the extreme sports market. While there is a lot of unused space at the moment, this will be changing over the next 20 years as infill has already began in certain areas of the park. There are already about 3,000 residents here and 16,000 workers, and they are looking to triple those numbers in the next few years. They are looking to get some kind of sports-oriented education campus on site, are building a hospital that will specialize in orthopedics to fit in with the sports culture, and will be infilling many of the existing common areas with mixed use commercial and residential housing which will not compromise on floor space, but which will have a small footprint in the park overall.

Of course, what I like about the park is the history here. Where you can't visually see the heritage precincts, there are hat tips and nods to what has happened at this place for the last 400 years.

Sydney: Day One

Whew, what a day. I think the last time I finished posting I was stuck in a room of twenty year olds from Britain and Germany who were taking in Australian music videos from the 80s and 90s, with interviews running in between with Australian Soap Stars. No wonder I was cranky. Combine this scenario with jet lag, and Sydney was not seeming that great upon arrival.

But once the clock struck 12:30 and I was able to check into my room, the day quickly began to swing up on a very positive note. I haven't stopped to take a picture yet of the outside of the building, but I snapped this quick shot before I ran out the door to move around and get some fresh air, as it had been a very long journey to Sydney, and the only exercise I had had in two days was running up stairs with all of my luggage to catch the wrong train going through Central station. It's great, because I'm in a second building that is detached from the dorm section of the building, and on the second floor with a great view of the street below. The room even comes complete with bunk beds and a tv with 7 channels, 5 of which play rugby all the time.

Once I found the room and got settled, I practically ran out the door to head towards downtown. While checking in I had noticed a pamphlet on the New South Wales Art Museum, which has an exhibition called "The Arts of Islam." I was hooked instantly, and had decided at that moment that I was going to rush down today to check it out. I was feeling pretty horrible, and I knew there was nothing better to cure the blahs than a good art show.

While rushing down King street, I noticed a marked difference than when I had seen the street for the first time in the early morning. With shops now open and people crowding the streets, there was an a real electricity that had been missing earlier. All of the buildings became buzzing hubs of activity as coffee drinkers hung out of cafe windows and wonderful smells began to seep from the swath of restaurants which line the street. But I had no time to spend, as I wanted to get to the museum as soon as possible (I promise to get a picture of the street before I leave), and just my luck, I caught the central quay train right when it reached the platform with a little bit of hustle.

There is no better way to see Sydney than by rail. Sure, on the ferries you get nice vistas of important landmarks, but the trains reveal the deep history that is embedded throughout the different districts of the city. Unlike any other city I have seen, there is an abundance of older structures here which hold their own against more recent developments. Within moments on the ride to circular quay one can see anything from art deco office buildings and Romanesque warehouses, to Moorish train structures juxtaposed with Mies-like glass and steel boxes.

When the train pulled into circular quay, there were people bustling all over the Rocks neighborhood. My curiosity peaked, I decided that the museum could wait for another day, and stepped off the train to be faced with the Sydney Harbor Bridge and the Sydney Opera House. There was a coffee celebration of sorts going on throughout the neighborhood, with white tents as far as the eye could see that were selling different brands of coffees, teas, and sweets. All of this was happening at the same time as the weekly market, which is like a Saturday Market minus the patchouli under a large sail-like tent. Selling everything from post cards to hand beaded silk scarves, the market was bustling with locals, tourists, musicians and the like. Once I managed to trudge through the crowds (and fend off a "friendly" local who tried to get me to go on a date after striking up a conversation about taking pictures), I was finally able to see the Opera House for the first time.

It surprisingly does not dominate the landscape, as Sydney Harbor Bridge and the multiple ferries coming in and out of dock help to balance out its visual magnetism. But what surprised me the most was how approachable the building was. Just from looking at pictures, you would never guess how intensely people can interact with the structure, as you can walk through the different sail-like structures to see expansive views of the surrounding harbor and Botanical Gardens. The city skyline, which faces the opera house, is just as stunning of a vista as the harbor itself.
I was stunned at the beauty and the vibrance of the area. Yes, there were a lot of tourists, but there were a lot of locals as well, enjoying the markets, music, food, and coffee. The architecture was beautiful, with historic buildings standing distinctively next to the steel and glass skeletons which now line the harbor.

Once my inner architectural nerd got her fill of excessive photographs and my legs regained their spring, I realized that I had not eaten anything since the heart attack special that FAA served me over the ocean at 4:30 in the morning, local time. Knowing that everything in that part of town was going to be overpriced, I went back to King street and bought some garlic naan, pakora, and some lamb saag, which hit the spot.

Tomorrow I get to see the Olympic Park for the first time.

Flying ... Not as Romantic as Sinatra Made it Out to Be

"Airports ain't what they used to be."

For a lack of better things to do, I found myself striking up a conversation with the TSA security screener who had dutifully informed be that my laptop was not supposed to go through the x-ray. As he explained, "Laptops have three of the four components found in explosives, so you have to declare it before hand."

How things have changed.

As he began to swab my laptop for fear that I may blow up my connecting flight to San Francisco, he asked why I was traveling after some bland banter pertaining to paperwork.

"I'm studying the sustainability agenda of the International Olympic Committee by conducting case studies at the Olympic Park in Sydney and later at the new Olympic park in Beijing."

"Sounds important," he mumbled. "You know, I don't really like writing, but I just had to write three essays for a new job that I'm trying to get here at the airport."

"So what's the new job?"

"Oh, well they are starting a program where people are judged on a scale of 1 to 5 by their facial expressions and body posture on how likely they are to be suspicious characters, and based on that ranking, we then take them aside and ask them some questions."

Man, it has been a long time since I have flown.

...

The ride from PDX was fairly smooth. I was mostly engulfed in paperwork, but I managed to look up in time to see a beautiful Pacific sunset. Framed in my tiny window along with the half moon and Venus, I couldn't help but think that it was a good thing I wouldn't be able to see the endless ocean during my endless flight.

As always, San Francisco was a trip from the very start. From the first signs of the city lights blazing through the cloud layer below, to the bike cops (yes, bike cops) patrolling the airport, I managed to find my way through it all to the International Terminal.

Located far away from the *cough* "normal" flyers, the International Terminal comes complete with Gucci, fine silver in display cases, and of course, one more security line.

After being herded onto the large airplane for my great marathon flight of 2007 to Sydney, we were informed that while we were going to make good time (and by good time they mean 13 and a half hours instead of 14 and a half), we still had to sit on the runway and wait to leave because Sydney has a noise ordinance which indicated that planes cannot land before 6:00 AM.

Oh well. What's another hour on the runway between friends?

While the flight mostly consisted of bad movies, some brief stints of sleep, and the occasional small talk with the neighbors of row 49, the best part by far was watching the well oiled machine I like to call "Flight Attendants Assemble!" Better characters than anyone on the flight, my favorite had to be the ever-smiling husky version of Brian Setzer with a touch of Biff from Back to the Future, whose bronze sheen was second to none, and whose attitude never dipped under jovial. I just got a kick out of the FAA because they were a predominately male outfit, were proud of it, and they worked it, sister!

After having all of my underwear dumped out because the x-ray specifically for plant matter detected something in my backpack (have you ever had to declare granola bars before?), I was off to get lost on the Subway. I went to about five different stations before I finally got to mine, but the exodus was well worth it. Newtown is, for lack of a better word, a funky little neighborhood with lots of restaurants, cafes, and is right in between the Olympic Park and Downtown.

Hopefully I'll get out of the common room today, where horrid Kylie Minogue dance music is playing on the Australian version of mtv, so that I can get some pictures to post tonight. But for now I'm hanging in tight ...

So what exactly is the sustainability gap?

It is pretty strange to be starting a blog at this moment. I never thought I would be one of those people, who thought themselves too bright and important to go quietly through life without sharing their experience with others. But as the blogosphere grows by the day, so does the subject matter, and the way that we use blogs to communicate with one another. I started this blog with many intentions in mind, but I would first like to introduce myself and the project I will be working on for the next five months.

A native Oregonian, pastry baker, and amateur photographer, I am also a graduate student at the University of Oregon on the verge of graduating with my MS in Historic Preservation. Yes, you read it right, and no, it isn't restoring paintings. I study architectural history, learn how to restore historic structures, and teach others how heritage conservation is a cornerstone to healthy communities. As a part of this education, I am writing my thesis, "The Sustainability Gap: A Case Study of Olympic Development in Sydney, Australia and Beijing, China."

I promise you, it is not going to be as dry as it sounds. I am going to be traveling to Sydney in a couple of days to research the site of the 2000 Summer Olympic Games, and will at the end of September be researching the site of the upcoming 2008 Summer Olympic Games in Beijing in order to document how each host city has or has not incorporated heritage conservation into their sustainability agendas. I will then use this information in order to take a hard look at the International Olympic Committee's sustainability agenda, Agenda 21, and determine if it is doing enough to protect heritage resources from destruction in the wake of frantic development which leads up to each and every summer OGs.

I started this blog because along the way I will be partaking in some interesting travel, so I would like to not only share my thoughts on the developing thesis with anyone who is interested and would like to give feedback, but also share experiences and photos from my travels with friends and family so they can see that yes, I am alive, and also doing well while far away from home.