La voce to me

Yesterday, I went about the course of collecting actual Linguistic data (I know, I know living red letter). I ventured into the suburbs of Central Melbourne with a flotilla of my fellow Linguistadors and recorded a 22-month-old girl named Molly talking at us.
It was actually a lot of fun: Molly showed us her DVDs and was surprisingly film literate for a toddler, having seen Finding Nemo, Alice in Wonderland and The Little Mermaid, which is more than Esmond- although she insisted Ursula the sea witch was nice and liked Ariel. Not an interpretation I'd encountered before.

Although...

She also argued with her mother over whether a pink koala toy was a pig or a marsupial and won with the astounding display of reasoning 'koalas aren't pink', which none of us could refute (although Koala joeys are hairless.) She also brought a little of that lovely child reasoning when, upon being informed that a dentist was a 'doctor who looks at your teeth', she inquired, with some alarm, 'why?!'
All in all, not a bad way to collect data for one's subject; in fact, Barbara told us about a man who gave his children special backpacks which would record his young children speaking...and caught his wife carrying on with, as Barbara put it, 'Mr. Neighbor'.
So, practical, too.

In other news, I went to two parties this weekend, and so am just the belle of the ball, aren't I? One was a get together with the guys from B.E.S.T., who were my 24 hour play group (I meant to blog about that...oops), where we watched a bunch of movie musicals and realised just how rapey Grease is. Sadly, I had to go to bed before Les Mis was put on, otherwise I very well may have brought Gavroche back to life, nine years (what the hell?) after his untimely death.
T'other was an Amadeus get-to-know-the-cast affair, where two very promising candidates for quotes of the year were delivered. One came from Henry Shaw, director extraordinaire, and was in the manner of a film trailer voice-over; t'other came from Dave, who plays Salieri, and was a brand new species of Pokemon; both can be found on the Quotes page.

And, finally, according to Victoria Andrew, I was in tune for an entire song last Wednesday. This is a personal record.

He ate your father in front of you

So, Daniel got into Drama school. Aside from being the single biggest contributor to this blog (after myself, of course), Daniel also holds the distinction of being one of the few actors I have 'discovered'.

And what a discovery it was.

Of course, Danny boy himself might dispute this, and argue that he even had some professional roles in Spain but buckus, I say, that damn Spider is where your career started in the English speaking world!

This guy.

The only person whom I believe could challenge me as title-bearer of Godfather of Daniel's theatrical career is Ian, and though Daniel did indeed have lines in Vatnsdal, I don't believe that play truly tapped into Daniel's talents. His cackling, baton-twirling, cross-dressing talents. All of which TWWOO used to great, if somewhat psychodelic, effect.
And, thus, I'm very proud to say that another one of my babies has hatched into a beautiful butterfly. Now, Joseph just needs to make something of his life.
Like that'll ever happen.

In less self-congratulatory news, I got to watch someone else directing my work for the first time last Sunday. This is only the second time someone else has actually helmed a project to which I contributed the script: but during The Ten Minuters I only ever saw the finished product, not the 'making of'. And I have to say, it was weird- seeing my words come to life but with no control over how they lived. I now know how my parents feel. No wonder they're always so disappointed with me.
P.S. For Posterity's sake, this play is Aladdin, a pantomime I've written to be performed for sick children. (And also children who are ill- get it?)

And finally, I've started Language in Aboriginal Australia and it's really fascinating- the culture is so different from what I'm used to that it means everything I'm learning is completely unexpected and brand new. I haven't had that for a while.
First Language Acquisition is also proving as interesting as I'd hoped and I was actually presented with some tangible proof for innatism, which I never imagined would happen and may merit further investigation.
Phonetics has sadly segued into ear training, which boils down to weeks and weeks of watching one's tutor/professor repeat the same sound twice and ask 'did you hear the difference that time?' to which the answer is inevitably 'no'. Not as frustrating as syntax, certainly, but quite bad.
So, all in all, quite a good term so far.

"Do you know how fragile the human skull is?"

Work has now begun in earnest for Aussie Rules. Last night, we had the first rehearsal, in which Andrew had us do a theatrical exercise wherein I wanted to leave the room by a certain door and my costar was to block me. At first, we weren't allowed to touch, and Andrew told me to leave the room by any means possible. This lead to me uttering the title of this blog post, utterly deadpan and entirely serious to said costar. After that, Andrew said we were allowed to get physical and I walked right out, nearly clipping Tom's head on the door frame on the way out.
It's now been a long time since we I've rehearsed something (not counting 24 hour play), and I forgot how intense such sessions could get. I think a large part of this is due to Andrew, who is very confrontational in his directorial style (in no way a criticism), and the other is that this is my first part since, I believe, Vatnsdal which isn't mostly comical- I'd forgotten how difficult it is to be sincere and unaffected when acting (Tom quite correctly noticed I was 'blocking' during one exercise, when I couldn't stop laughing). But it's always a goal of Andrew's to intrude into people's comfort zones, and why shouldn't that include his actors?

For a role that is almost entirely comic, look no further than Emperor Joseph, whom I will be realising in Amadeus. Yes, things have come full circle (about a year early, I'm disappointed to say), and I am once again starring in Peter Shaffer's tale of jealousy and nipples; however, in a twist that shows how much I've advanced as an actor and a person, I'm no longer the shouty, pompous German but now the serene, foolish emperor. It was odd at the readthrough to hear the lines with which I was so familiar (in the way you're familiar with the living room of a house you lived in five years ago), with completely different accents, inflections, and, in some cases, genders to the voices that I was used to. Rik Hart, for example, the epitome of old-school British Gentlemanliness, was substituted for an Australian girl, and that was when I first felt I wasn't in Kansas anymore. Interestingly, David K. Barnes being replaced by a petite Aussie lass felt completely natural. I think maybe because Strack is quite effeminate himself.
Maybe.
As for my own reading, I'll admit there's more than a dash of Sasha in there, but fuck it, what's he gonna do? Tall me to death?

Above: Artist's rendition of Sasha preparing for battle.

In other news, I've exchanged Semantics for Language in Aboriginal Australia, which will hopefully be insightful and uniquely Australian.And, in First Language Acquisition, we are once again touching on Innatism versus socialisation theories, and I still don't understand Innatism because there just seem to be so many flaws in the theory. (Innatism holds that humans can acquire language without really being taught it- my problems with this idea are numerous). I asked my professor, and she just said 'exactly', which, although affirming because I was right, wasn't all that helpful. I'll have to ask Jimminy about it, I think he's an innatist (fool).

Bach Too's Cool

Uni started again yesterday.
I have now had a taster of the three subjects I'm enrolled in for this semester- Semantics, Phonetics and First Language Acquisition.
First up was Semantics, taught by David Thewlis in an oscar-worthy performance as Brett Baker, who also taught me Syntax last year. I'm trying not to hold that against him, I really am. Suffice to say we won't be studying pragmatics this year, which I personally think is one of the most interesting areas of semantics (it's to do with implication and context- which are absolutely fascinating linguistically). I'm currently trying to switch Semantics for Language in Aboriginal Australia, which for some reason is not offered at Edinburgh.
Next was Phonetics, and the professor seemed oddly nervous- I don't know if it's his first time teaching or he just had a bomb strapped to his leg, but he repeated himself a lot and at the...end just...kind of...faded... ...a....way. Sadly, he's up against the titan that is Patrick Honeybone as my previous professor in phonetics and, well, that's an extremely tough act to follow. Like Invocal. Or Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs (Daniel.) As for phonetics, it's not my favourite field anyway, as it's rather dry- lots of science, TONNES of biology- but it's not as bad as syntax, as I can at least see the need to study phonetics, and it does have some interesting facets. 
Finally, I headed to First Language Acquisition- the Professor of which has the same name as my grandmother and only paternal aunt. What a small world. First Language Acquisition has always been one of my favourite topics cos babies are just so damn cute when they try to talk. Case in point:

 

I'm pretty sure he calls me 'Nony' in that clip. I dunno if that's better or worse than 'Ory', which was Sam's attempt. 

Anyway, in First Language Acquisition we have to go and record a child talking and interact with it, which will at the very least be a different way to spend an afternoon (though I essentially did exactly that every Friday morning for eighteen months). I'm quite looking forward to this course actually, especially since my professor said she was a sociolinguist by trade, meaning maybe in later life I can combine two of my favourite fields after all (if we can just work in watching penguins somehow I'll have it made).

The Jungle Blog

So, this one has been a long time coming, but I was trying to get some photos/videos off my phone, who was refusing to co-operate. However, thanks to the magic of Andrew Victoria, we're back in business. So, without further ado, my trip to the rainforest.

NB: For the vast majority of the time, I couldn't actually see my phone screen due to the glare of the sun, so there's a very real possibility that these pictures are awful.

So, I had to get up really early to go into the rainforest- I was picked up by the tour bus from N Joy and we sped along toward adventure. My tour guide was kinda weird- he kept acknowledging that no one really wanted to listen to him, but this didn't seem to deter him from speaking. He was also morbidly obsessed with Steve Irwin and kept touting how we would be able to see the actual spot where Irwin died (Neato!). We stopped off at a look out point where one could see some of the reef and the jungle.

We then sped along toward a wildlife sanctuary, where there were cassowaries, which can split a man in half, and ducks, which can't but had a go anyway- while I was feeding an adorable little kangaroo, a horrid bird flew up at me to try and get the food for itself, after I specifically refused it anyway for not being cute enough. Yes, I said boo to a goose and in response was viciously attacked. (This would actually be a theme of that day- being attacked by animals.)
But not before I held a koala, a python, and a motherfucking crocodile. Yeah, that's right. An actual, living crocodile. And I held it, with my unprotected human hands. How badass am I right now?
However, the croc wasn't half as problematic as the drop-bear, oh, I'm sorry, I mean 'koala'.
A koala which tried to eat me. As in, sniffed out its meal, leant back and opened its maw- at which point, the keeper stepped in and pulled him out of my grasp. The Koala was named 'grizzly' (I wonder why), so I can say I've faced being eaten by bears both drop and grizzly. I'm pretty sure I'm the most bad ass person in my social circle now. And I'm not even finished yet.
So, in the sanctuary, I saw pelicans, cassowaries and a lungfish (which is fucking horrific, btw), crossing three other animals off my Ozzie bucket list (how do I only have four months left?!). I also fed kangaroos for the second time, as well as some weird birds, and, inadvertently, one overly-eager duck. 
Then, it was on to the river and this is where things get really bad ass.
Anyone who read the last post and clicked on the link at the end will have read how crocodiles on the Daintree river have been becoming more aggressive, and that one croc actually attacked a river ferry a couple of years ago. This is the croc that I encountered on my trip along the river. We were chugging along, and I'll admit I was kinda bored, having only really seen mangroves at this point. Then I spotted two eyes popping out of the river, staring, I thought, right at me. I pointed them out and we all marvelled at this pair of eyes, which belonged to a croc named 'Scarface', as our guide informed us. After a while, the eyes submerged and we all thought that was that. I'll show you my picture versus one I found on google:

So, that's what I saw; pretty cool, but not all that threatening, right?

Found here

That was what I was actually up against. And I say 'up against' because guess what? Scarface resurfaced, and our guide informed us he was stalking the boat. 'Don't worry, though' he added, 'they hardly ever attack boats'. This was not as comforting as he thought. Had I read the article before I went, I might well have abandoned ship then and there, even though this would have simply put me even more in Scarface's domain. So, I can now say I've been stalked by a monocular bull croc named 'Scarface'. Jari, step down as the badass-king of our friendship group. We have a new monarch of badassery.

This guy.

After the river cruise, we stopped off at the point where you could see EXACTLY WHERE STEVE IRWIN DIED! ERMAGERD! After telling us how he died for the third time, TJ, our tour guide, let us off the bus and made us wait at this point for what felt like an inordinately long amount of time. I think he wanted us to fully appreciate that THIS IS THE PLACE WHERE STEVE MOTHERFUCKIN' IRWIN CEASED TO LIVE!!1!

Taste the death.

Then, we had lunch at an ice cream factory. Sadly, this is not what it sounds like- lunch was provided by the tour group and we sat and ate outside the ice cream factory. Still, I did sample some of the ice cream and it was delicious- chilli and chocolate, which I always think of as mine and Freya's flavour. There was maybe a touch too much chilli in there, so rather than cooling my pallet (Cairns is tropical, you know), it just made me reach for the water jug.
Also, while eating I walked into a spider's web. My natural reaction was to shake myself free and then to move on as though nothing had happened. This is the spider into whose web I had walked:

It's known as the Golden Orb spider and can kill people. And I shook its web whilst entangled in it. This is my life now.
Oh, also, the ice cream factory's toilets had a confusing use policy:

"Strictly" *nudge**nudge**wink**wink*. This reminds me of Rik's story about a friend who became a "Taxi driver".

After this, it was onto the rainforest, and I fulfilled another childhood wish by trekking into the jungle, even going barefoot at one point.

Sadly, this was a rather uneventful trek, even though we saw some more venomous spiders and I ate a live ant (I was told I could- it tasted of lemon). We were told to look out for cassowaries, which, as previously stated, can split one in half, but sadly none approached. Oh well, I'm still more badass than you, Dr. Fowkes and all (y)our little friends.

The next and final stop was at the beach, where I encountered this lovely sign:

I love the way the tentacles are artfully missing his lack-of-crotch.
I also want to point out that the beach looked like this:

Ok, the photo doesn't do it justice. Just understand that it was fucking beautiful- the water was pristine and inviting and full of killer jellyfish. *Sigh* Nice one, God, you got us. Also, I totally wrote 'Moi Smells' in the sand but it didn't come out in the picture- but it was definitely there, so, yeah. It's been written on both hemispheres. It's official now.

Anyway, after this we pretty much just headed back to the hostel, but I wanna share one final anecdote with y'all. On the way back, I struck up a conversation with one of my fellow tourees (I don't like how much that sounds like 'Tory', oh well), whose name was Peter. Peter was having a mid-life crisis. You could tell because he kept saying 'this is my trip around the world and then after this, it's settling down and having kids' and then laughing hysterically. Peter lived in San Francisco, but had been all over and was basically filling in the blanks on his travel check-sheet before he reproduced and his life ended. I can only hope I've done as much when my mid-life crisis comes around.
God bless you, Pete, wherever you are, and God help your children.

More photographs to be found here.

That funny reefer man

So...I went to the reef.
That's one to tick off the bucket list.
I also saw Nemo, Dory and a giant clam ('lives under the sea, lots of legs!').
That's another.
And I faced up to one of my greatest ever fears, being stung by a jellyfish.
That was...underwhelming.

Let's start at the beginning, shall we? So, the day after I posted about how glorious N Joy was, I went to the reef. I'm gonna throw in some Travel Writer-y stuff here and say I went with 'Reef Experience', who were extrememly competent and provide breakfast, lunch, sun cream and ginger tablets for the faint of stomach. I also hired an underwater camera through N Joy, and the camera worked very well, but I found the price of replacing one of the parts, which fell to the bottom of the sea bed, to be kinda extortionate.

The boat ride took a lot longer, and was a lot bumpier (though I resisted the ginger*), than I expected; I was one of the only people there on their own, and was thus encouraged to 'follow other divers like a creeper'.

Got your feet.

It made the ride there kinda dull, but they did provide a marine biology lecture, which I attended and remember exactly nothing about. Time well spent.
Finally, we arrived. I'd signed up for introductory diving, and so was given a class in how to breathe, see and avoid touching stuff. I was in group 13 for diving, and so had to wait a while before I took my turn and was informed I could go snorkelling if I so desired.
Good Lord, but snorkelling is awkward. In fact, one could say it was 'snorkward'. But one wouldn't, because one is not a clown. I'd nominally been snorkelling once in Corsica, but all I remember is freaking out because of this big red fish and instead opting to playing gorillas in the shallows. Time well spent.
For one thing, my mask didn't fit- surprise, surprise, my head was too big. I asked for a replacement from a nice American lass named Amanda, who, it transpired, was the boat's resident Marine Biologist (I had honestly forgotten it was she who gave the lecture- snorkward!). She told me I was the politest person they'd ever had aboard, which made me feel good, and then she gave me a new mask which worked a little better, but I still had to get a replacement for the actual scubaing. It turned out this final mask was 'prescription' and is meant to be saved for people with actual medical conditions.
And it still didn't fit correctly.
Anyway, back to snorkelling. I also found it extremely awkward to breathe at first, simply because the natural rhythm involves using one's nose, and this is a big no no for snorkelling. I swallowed huge amounts of sea water, and had to get out of the water several times to soothe my aching throat.
But it was fucking beautiful- in fact, one of the times I swallowed the most water was because I simply couldn't stop myself from gasping at the beauty.
Here are just a few photos:

 

 

and the entire bunch can be found here.

I'd never been open water swimming before, and I'd be lying if I said the experience wasn't slightly disconcerting. But I didn't have a heart attack, which I was a little worried about. However, I was stung by a jellyfish, which I was a LOT worried about.
Now, those who know me very, very well will know that jellyfish are possibly the creature I'm scared of the most. Had I seen the one that stung me, I may not have been able to get into the water, having turned down the opportunity to hire a wetsuit (Amanda assuring me that I wouldn't be stung- nice going, yank!). But it was a drive by stinging- it got me on the back of the leg, then floated off to injure other people. And honestly, I didn't think anything of it- I just thought it was a random sensation caused by the change in pressure. It was only when I got back to N Joy and was showering that I noticed the huge red welt on the back of my leg.
And, honestly, I'm glad it happened that way: it meant I got to see the reef and realise that maybe not all stingers are the devil's minions. Interestingly, though, the day after I went to the reef at least one company stopped going out to the reef cos there were just too many box jellyfish. So, I lucked out there.
Now, to scuba diving. My instructor was named Becky, and she was a scouser. Apart from that, I can't fault her, though, as she was extremely good at pointing out everything I might miss, and had a love of clownfish bordering on the obsessive (I found Nemo. Several times.) She had to hold my hand the entire time because I am what we in the business call a 'bad diver' (also, they'd misjudged the weights I'd need, and I floated away if I wasn't anchored down). I can spout a bunch of cliches about how the reef is like another planet (lack of oxygen, strange plant life, aforementioned floating away due to lack of gravity), and how it's like an underwater forest, but I honestly couldn't do it justice, so I'll just say wait until I post the videos (photos were tricky with Becky holding my hand).
I actually went on two dives, paying for the second aboard the boat, simply because it was too good an experience to turn down a second go. It really was incredible, and if at all possible, I'm gonna return before I leave; my only regret was that I didn't see any turtles, despite visiting a turtle breeding ground. But that's a minor complaint. Everything else was perfect.

Coming soon: Drop bears, spiders and Scarface the crocodile.

*Be Dorothy.

Njoy yourself

I currently sit in the lushest youth hostel in which I have ever stayed; and, yes, that includes Brodie’s in Edinburgh (as that one shopkeep put it ‘Brodies? Brodies is a dah-ump!’).

It has a pool, people.

And pool people.

They give you free meal cards for a local restaurant- and, on Tuesdays, free pizza! So, yes, last night I went out with a group of the hostelers to a local bar and got free pizza- I spent the night conversing with a GerMAN named Matteo, and tonight we're gonna go to the beach (apparently one can't swim there because of crocodiles. We shall see.)

I also got a free upgrade to my room because, and I quote, I was a ‘fellow Englishman’ to the guy at the counter- I was meant to be sharing with eight other people, instead I share with only one! And I don’t have to sleep on a bunk bed! Calloo, callay!

‘But, Rory!’, you cry, your voice awash with wonderment, ‘why on earth are you in a Youth Hostel?’ Why, because I’m in Cairns, of course! And what’s in Cairns?

The Motherfuckin’ Great Barrier Reef. That’s what. I glimpsed it from the plane window (also quite a pleasant flight- there was no one sitting next to me), and it was beautiful. There's also a rainforest nearby, so I'm going to that as well! Squee!

Let’s hope I didn’t use up all my good karma on the flight and the hostel, and that the actual experience ends up being good as well.

P.S. The title comes from the fact that I’m staying at the ‘N Joy Traveller’s residency’. In case y’all were wondering.