My Baby

HAHA. Not pregnant. No. Now, this is going to be particularly redundant for those of you who have already read my theatre company's new blog (which you SHOULD, at http://tutzanni.blogspot.com), but the post itself was particularly personal, and so I wanted to post it here as well. In the future, Tut'Zanni's blog will be mostly just for the company, and my personal thoughts/feelings/adventures will be here. So, without further ado, here is "The Beginning":

I wasn't quite sure how to write the very first post on this blog. I looked around for poems about beginnings, or about dreams, wanting to sound dramatic, and moving, and inspiring. But nothing I could find really seemed genuine, or seemed to really capture what a monumental time this is for me.

I  have always dreamt of having my own little theatre troupe, to travel the world, and explore every facet of my imagination, work with wonderful people, play music, and run around in an endlessly prolonged sort of childhood. Growing up, we are faced with so many obstacles- money, time, and that crushing sense of self-consciousness that inevitably develops as our bodies awkwardly make their way into adulthood. Though there is a refreshing independence that comes with being an adult, we often have to pay for that freedom with certain sacrifices. We have to get jobs, and pay bills, and do all those sort of grown-up things. Which is fine, that is life, but often times it is easy to get caught up in it, and lose focus on what we really want, and the things that really matter to us.

Now I'm quite the stubborn person, not to mention extremely ADD, and prone to manic episodes. As I would feel boxed in to the everyday grind, I had to find ways to break free in my own sort of personal rebellion. Sometimes small things. I took up painting. I joined small a theatre group, or worked on my film career, or wrote music. Despite these small releases, I could feel the slow build of my inner self screaming to be let out. My desire to create had reached a boiling point, and I broke. I was no longer satisfied with "someday". I wanted NOW. I wanted my life to begin, the one I dreamed of from when I was a little girl, the one that would fulfill me, no matter the cost. I was tired of telling myself that I was "working towards it". I was tired of waiting for things to turn more in my favor, or just waiting for a good opportunity to magically come my way. Why was I spending my life trying to save up, and prepare, and wait for the life I wanted? I should be DOING it.

So I bought plane tickets, and a week later, I was out of the country, to refocus, and rediscover exactly what that life was, and how to make it happen. Many of you followed my adventures on my travel blog (THIS blog!!), which showed numerous adventures around Europe. But it wasn't all just fun- ok it was, but some of the fun was at least productive. I was scoping out the theatre world, talking to people, watching shows, and looking at venues. I visited the people who had inspired me, and spent countless hours thinking and looking (and eating), and exploring.

So here we are. This is the birth of Tut'Zanni, my baby, my love, my life. My very own theatre troupe. Alongside me is my wonderful co-founder, Dory, who has been a dear friend and fierce supporter of me and all my craziness. She is invaluable to me, and I am overjoyed that she has agreed to plunge headfirst into this insanity with me.

Tut'Zanni is in it's super-infantile stages, but hopefully with the love and support of everyone, it will grow into a huge, juggernaut of a monster, spewing out theatre in a mass of creative rage.

So, thank you for reading my probably intensely cliched ramblings, and I hope you continue to read this blog as Tut'Zanni takes off and stumbles through its first baby steps.

Lots of love,
ALi

Day 56 The End. (Lisbon)

This is it. It’s here. My last day. Denial is clearly not working.

I was sad waking up for my last European morning.

 I consoled myself with a toasty, cheesy, eggy goodness.

And my weird polish yogurt. By the way, if you're ever in Portugal and are wondering what that thing is, don't make the same mistake I did. It is not the egg sack of a purple worm demon, it is just plain old passion fruit. Boring. But tasty, yes.

I also broke the frying pan and didn’t tell anybody. I’m sorry hostel. I was upset.

I made a new friend yesterday, and we spent breakfast together, which was cool. I actually made a female friend, who I really like, which is a rarity to me. This made the morning a lot more fun. We then rode the train to the main station and parted ways. Becky is one rad chick, and we will keep in touch. I will send her peanut butter, and she will send me speculoos.

Then I rode my big bus up to the airport.

 I got on my plane. It did allow me my backpack and purse, so that was good. Yay for not budget airlines.

As sad as leaving Europe was, I began thinking about going to New York, and got very excited. I would get to see friends I hadn’t seen in years, friends who I’d seen more recently, but was still dying to see. Plus, New York is awesome. So it was kind of like more vacation. It only took me 24 hours from waking up to actually go back to bed, but today was pretty great. I even stole someone’s window seat on the plane. It’s his fault for being late.

I would like thank everyone who has been reading about my adventure, and for everyone’s love and support. It has been wonderful, and fulfilling, and life-changing. I hope you have enjoyed my tellings of said adventure. It has definitely been fun writing them.

Baci,

ALi

Day 55 (Lisbon)

Usually, the combination of ALi and fire results in something very unfortunate

Bawww, look how happy and gross I am.

This morning, it was a happy combination. The result was this

Delicious toasty egg sandwich, which all the other hostel guests got to drool at with envy. Mmm.

 

Having no clue what to really do today, I headed for the tram to take me somewhere. The wait was going to be about 15 minutes, so I crossed the street and waited in the 13 minute line for this little baby

It is a custard tart type thing, and the Portuguese pastry, particularly known to be best in Belem. Know what barrio I was in? Belem. That’s right. WIN. They give you some cinnamon and powdered sugar to put on this little sucker, and it’s pretty much a flavor orgasm in your mouth. I’m sorry to be crude, but there’s just no other way to describe it.

In Europe, there is a fad right now of harem pants. These are big flowy kind of pants that taper around the ankles, and the crotch is all saggy, either like a super gangster, or sometimes they kind of look like you took a deuce in ‘em. And I needed some. I regretted not buying a pair in Granada, so I was on a mission to find them before going home, and risking the US having too much fashion sense to have them. I looked up a popular store hoping maybe they would have them, and set out to find it. I found myself in the business district, walking down a completely boring street. Until I found the monsters that had taken over this part of Lisbon

Whoever made these, I want to kiss them on the mouth. They are so freaking awesome, and this totally made my day. Thank you kind sir. Or sirs. Or ma’am.  You.

The architecture is very interesting in Lisbon. It’s difficult to really see it in the pictures, so I will explain. It has a bit of that fancy touch, like spain does, but Lisbon has also retained a lot of Arab architecture. So you get a bit of a blend of the 2. Also, they are fond of covering their buildings with colorful tiles. It is very unique and quite neat to see.

One other thing I love about Portugal? It’s CHEAP. Oh my gosh. I went to the grocery store today and got a bag of pasta, some sauce, a big thing of juice, a bag full of bread, some Portuguese cheese, a tub of yogurt, and 2 puddings, all for like 6 euros! I have enough food to feed 4 people 2 different meals, and with dessert. I could live like a king here. Portugal, please be mine.

A cautionary note for all you toad-lickers out there. You don't know where your toad has been. Licking that toad means licking all the other toads that toad has been with.

Day 54 (Lisbon)

This dog appears to have farted a cloud with a face, and is wary of it.

This morning I had decided to shell out the money for a number of those big open top bus tours, and a tram tour through all the major parts of Portugal. But, once at the stop, I got really impatient, and decided to walk. This turned out to be a good decision. I. saw. So. Much.

This is the monastery right by my hostel. You can see why I felt stupid wondering which stop was mine. But if you don’t know ahead of time, and you’re in a blind panic, how are you supposed to know? You don’t.

This is the iconic Torre of Portugal. To me, it kind of makes me think of a sand castle. I’ve never really seen something quite like it. Everyone should see this. NOW.

This is some discovery monument or something? This is why I failed history. It doesn’t matter that I read about this more than once. It’s gone now. Now it’s just “some discovery monument thing”. Yeah.

ABC

This is my new Portuguese boyfriend. I just love his smile, and staring deep into his eyes...

Then it was CASTLE TIME. Oh the castles. How I love them. But this one is particularly great. It's much more castle-y than some of the others.

It has beautiful grounds, with beautiful views

Yeahh, it has a bridge and a moat. I will dig a moat around my house. Don’t even doubt me.

It had all these walls you could walk around on, and into the towers and such…

I took like 100 pictures of just the castle. You’re gonna have to hit up flickr to see all the pics from today (http://www.flickr.com/alimook)

From the castle, I saw this cool old building that had kind of fallen apart, with a bunch of arches still intact. After leaving the castle, I became hopelessly lost in the city. But I eventually found a sign for some ruins, and it had a symbol of an arch, so I followed it. Another thing that Portugal is not so great with. Signs. I just got more lost, until I reached a building, behind which I could see said ruins. So I made my way around. Or at least I thought I was. Have you ever looked at nicely placed spaghetti, all loopy and squiggly together? That’s what European city centers are like. I have no idea how long I wandered around for at this point, but I eventually found a plaza, and nearly passed a building before I realized it was the entrance to the ruins. I ran inside, and was soooo glad I hadn’t given up and gone home.

They are the ruins of an old convent, and they have a bunch of historical items and a mini museum at the back. If you ever go to Lisbon, GO HERE. This is one of my favorite sites I’ve found. I don’t know how popular it is, as admission was cheap, and it wasn’t even in my guidebook. That is why getting lost in a city is the best way to discover it.

Day 53 (Barcelona)

May I introduce you to a few friends of mine?

You’ve seen the bush man? He’s famous, look him up if you don’t know what I’m talking about. Well, I found bush lady. I’m sorry she’s not naked, but she is super creepy. I actually was jolted a couple times passing her, thinking at first she was a street artist. It’s not. It’s actually in front of an awesome jewelry/art gallery/store. Old Victorian portraits of people with animal heads. It’s totally my kind of thing. One day I will go around buying art that I like. For now, I enjoy it in stores with creepy leaf ladies scaring me out front.

Meet Taller Hamster Loco. Not to be confused with Shorter Hanster Loco. 

And… you know, I have nothing clever to say. I just wanted to show you some cool arts. So ENJOY IT. I don’t have to constantly entertain you. Sheesh.

Today I mostly wandered about, seeing the sights, the beautiful Spanish architecture, and old crumbly buildings.

  

And then I came across this:

Which I could only deduce to be a ritual sacrifice of this child to the pigeons, with the townspeople around to watch. And his little sister, there for moral support and to mourn. It was either that, or he was performing surgery on one of the birds, but although he has small hands, I doubt his veterinary microsurgical ability. Let’s be realistic here. He just can’t have that level of knowledge at his age.

And then it was time. I made my way to the airport, dreading the ridiculous regulations of budget airlines. This beefy horse (who I took to be the guardian deity of Barcelona) wished me good luck

 And it must have worked because I totally got all my stuff on the plane without having to pay their silly fees for checking bags. Somehow I fit everything including my 7 new pairs of shoes into my backpack… I also may or may not have put on ALL of my clothes… and wrapped my towel around my waist under my clothes… Yeah I looked like 20 pounds bigger, but it was so worth it. Don’t judge me. I’m not paying 40 euros to check a bag. That’s food moneys.

This is why I hate flying more than even 20 hour, expensive train rides, that I would have probably just taken had I not cared so much about my food moneys. My flight was 2 hours late. This sucked. But on top of that, they told everyone it was only an hour late, and we would actually be boarding 15 minutes before the departure. Instead, they had us all waiting in line for another hour, walking up and down inspecting all our baggage, making sure we were following their stupid strict regulations. Then, it seemed the lady taking the tickets just wanted to get everyone through so she could go harass someone else, or do her hair, or something, so she started taking tickets and sending people into the little passageway, before the passengers from the previous flight had exited. It was pandemonium. She then started having everyone form just a different line after she took their tickets. Then, finally as we were able to boarding the plane, she started cramming people into the wider part of the passageway into a mass of more lines that of course people were using to cut around everyone else, starting fights, you know.

Needless to say, I was so happy to step out of the airport and breathe some sweet Portuguese air. But then I realized it was after 11, and the regular buses stop running then, and I had no idea where the night time buses were, and I couldn’t find them. So I stood at a stop where some other people were for the bus that supposedly has stopped running, and then I realize that Portugal is like the only country still attached to Europe that is in a different time zone (the other countries are like England and crap). Thank. Goodness. So I bused it to the main station, where I had to grab a tram over to the part of town where my hostel was. This tram turned out to be one of Portugal’s beloved historical trams. Let me tell you something. They are awe3some. To look at. Riding them is like being on one of those 25 cent rides for kids in front of the grocery store, only a touch more violent. You know, for adults. Also, Portugal’s tram system, although it runs convenient places, is not very clear on where exactly you are going. There are different stops on different maps, and they don’t always stop at all of them, so no luck counting the number of stops. There are no maps on the train. There are only teeny little signs at the stops themselves. Also, as far as I could tell, I couldn’t buy a ticket on the old tram. So I stood in the back exit area, hoping no one would check if I had a ticket (because I did not), being stared at by the nighttime creepers of Portugal’s public transit. What’s more, is we rode through  what seemed to be the Portuguese ghetto. ALSO, nobody speaks English. So I just stood there terrified, tryin to decide whether to just get off at a random stop to check the “stops” and catch another, or to just keep going. Luckily, I was able to spout out like 2 Portuguese words, and find out that the stop right before mine was the next stop. Now, had I known that my stop had an enormous building right at it, I would have been fine, but I didn’t. But I finally got there. And then didn’t know quite where to go. I walked up the street I knew to be mine, looking for the address, checking buildings that looked like hostels. Finally, I found number 16, after 14, 14a, 14c, 14e, etc, wondering if the whole street was just 14. I actually passed 16 at first, as the sign for the hostel was about half a piece of regular paper taped onto the door. But I got inside, and settled into my temporary little home. Ahhh.

Day 52 WanderWeirdo (Barcelona)

Today, I woke up, and had no idea what I wanted to do. So, I ended up just wandering about Barcelona like a little weirdo. One of my favorite things to do. I found some pretty neat places, though.

I found this cool statue monument thingy in the middle of a huge roundabout plaza thing.

This is where the magic fountain was! There's a big fancy museum palace or something. I totally know stuff.

haHA! I know this one! This is the Olympic Stadium! Yay! Sports.

 I also don't know what this is (surprise!), but it was very peaceful and beautiful.

Fountain! I actually found a lot of fountains on my little walk about. I like 'em.











So as I was walking around, I found I was up on Montjuio. Today, I climbed a mountain! I found a rad park with views of the sea, and with... another fountain!

 Wee! I'm  a fountain!

Oooh, I'm a paaaaaark.....









I will actually just show you all the views at the end, as there were several places I took way too many pictures of the same thing.

Next came the best part. Know why? 'Cause it's a castle. CASTLE!!

 

There was a bridge and everything!!

Castle gardensssssss

Le courtyard (say that in a funny British accent, even though I said "le" like a Frenchman)

 Eeeeee. Castle. Then, There were these fancy gondola things that take you back down the mountain. I took one. Because I could! Now I will show you some views. I know you've been just scrolling down for the views. So I will try to not disappoint.

Oooooh

Ahhhhhhhh

Then I rode my camel back home. It was glorious.

His name is Tim.

Day 51 Gaudy Gaudi (Barcelona)

If Barcelona was a creepy older looking man with pink hair, and I was an age-ambiguous short-legged dark-haired woman in a skort, this would be us right now.

Today was bike tour day!! Yeyah! I got a free t-shirt and everything, for doing all of the Fat Tire Bike Tours. That's right. I'm awesome. So here is Barcelona.

I've decided I'm just going to get a lot of money, and build a bunch of castles and crap around America, and just make up historical stories about them. And it will be awesome. I don't actually know anything about this one (which is not a castle, but it looks kind of like one), but I still love it.

This was the royal palace where King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella lived. Ferdinand, from Catalonia, and Isabella, from southern Spain, who came in, put on the pants, and proceeded to stomp Catalonia into the ground. They don't like to talk about these parts of history in Barcelona.








The people of Barcelona don't even consider themselves Spanish. In fact, they hate Spain. Probably because Catalonia was it's own Empire, and it's own country for almost a thousand years before they got crushed. They still have their own language, which at certain times it was even illegal to speak, by penalty of being shot in the street by the police. I am all for Catalonia regaining its independence. Although that might be bad news for Spain, as economically speaking, it seems Catalonia is holding them up.

I told you a little bit about the Modernists yesterday. Basically Catalonia went through their sort of Renaissance, and everyone had a lot of money, and everyone was paying these architects to make fancy stuff all over the place. This is one of those. It is a music hall, and it is super radical. I think one of the things about these modernists that sticks out the most is their use of color, mostly in mosaic patterns around the buildings.

An ABC, as my Aussie friend would call it. Another Bloody Church. This is the cathedral. There is only 1 cathedral in any city. It is often referred to as a duomo, dom, dam, etc, depending on which country you are in.

This is the Arc di Triomph of Spain. It's not actually an Arc di Triomph, which is an arch to welcome back troops after a victory. During that glorious, rich renaissance period, Barcelona decided to throw a big party in honor of themselves. This was very popular in Europe at the time. So they wanted a huge monument thing to welcome people into the new part of the city they built. This was actually plan B. They had published the original idea in the papers, but the there was such a public uproar about it, they cancelled it. So Mr. Eiffel went and built his monument in Paris instead.

This is a super fab fountain. It is in a huge park that used to be a fascist fortress. Once Spain stopped crushing Catalonia so much, they celebrated by destroying the citadel, and making a huge glorious park. I think it was a good idea.

Sshhhh... Here we see the graceful Spanish mammoth in it's natural habitat. Don't worry. Mammoths from Barcelona are quite friendly, quiet creatures.

 This is Barcelona's bullfighting ring. The last bullfight ever here will be on September 25th. As of January, bullfighting in Barcelona will be illegal. Why? Because it's Spanish. And they are not. Remember? They hate Spain. Yeah I bet you thought it was for something sissy like animal rights or something.

Ok so I don't like bullfighting for those sissy reasons too, but I had to make the Catalans sound more hardcore, ok? Don't be mad.



Next is my favorite part of the tour. So Gaudi is a huge name here in Barcelona, and you see it everywhere. He was the most famous Modernist architect here. During their fancy renaissance, there was a sort of competition between all the rich people as to who could have the weirdest, coolest house. So they were all commissioning these architects to build their houses. Unfortunately, I did not get to see the homes, but I fully intend to either this trip or on another. Some of them look like they are made of dragon scales, have bones for pillars, fruit, all sort of crazy business. Look it up. You have google. Anyway, Gaudi had come from a small farming town, and was beginning to get a little tired of just building rich people homes. Gaudi was a very religious person as well, and it just so happened as Barcelona was growing, they needed a church built. So he drew up some crazy plans and showed it to Barcelona, and they loved it. They sent him off to the Vatican to get approval and funding to build this church. The Vatican didn't like it so much. They sent him packing, with no money and no approval. So what did Gaudi do? He built it anyway. He sold off almost everything he owned, and funded it with his own money, along with the money the public gave him for it, because they still totally wanted it. Since it couldn't be a "church", he decided to build a temple to the sacred family, or La Sagrada Familia. It's flippin awesome. Although to this day, it is technically not finished yet. Gaudi estimated it would take about 200 years to build. As it stands, Barcelona estimates it will be done around 2026 or so, but that seems doubtful.

It is massive and beautiful. Gaudi spent 32 years constructing just the front facade. He masoned the stone himself. He was literally building it himself. And it is breathtaking. The stone looks like it is melting, and builds up into a sort of growing tree with doves. I've never seen anything like it, and I doubt I ever will. Sadly, one of the few days that Gaudi went into the outside world, he was hit by a tram. Ironically, he had helped develop the tram system, so he probably should have seen it coming. Now Gaudi was a little crazy, and living kind of like a hobo, and was fairly unkempt at this point. So he was lying in the gutter for about a day and a half before somebody decided to move 'this bum' and send him to a hospital. There, at one of the worst hospitals ever, he was laying around for 2 days, not being treated (can you guess why they shut this hospital down?). Finally somebody recognized him, and was like Gaudi! You're famous, we will send you to the best hospital in town and take care of you! But Gaudi said no. He said his place was there with the people.

And then he died. His temple was very much unfinished, as it was just the front facade and one tower. He had left behind all his plans and models, so they continued work on it from these. However, as there was much political unrest in Barcelona, the anarchists were running around burning down churches. They tried to burn down this one, but alas, they found that stone doesn't burn so well. So they just burned out the inside, which included Gaudi's workshop. His plans destroyed, the people weren't sure how to continue work. So some young architects who had studied under Gaudi stepped up. They decided it would be an insult to try to continue it in his style, and it would obviously never be good enough, they continued on in each of their own styles. The back of it is completely different from the front.

It is very angular, and with much less detail. A lot of people don't like it, especially after seeing the front, which I completely understand. I, however, still like this part. I think it is interesting, and I definitely think they were right to not try to duplicate Gaudi's style. At this point in time, only 8 of the planned 18 towers are up. There is a lot left to do, and I think my tour guide was right in saying it probably won't be finished until about 2090, around 200 years from when Gaudi started.

BEACH TIME!!!
We had lunch at the beach. I swam in the sea, and ate my sammich. This was a good afternoon.

<--- This is the beach

This is my sammich ----->

Don't mix them up.






Then it was time to continue on.

 There was a point where Spain was left with no heir. So they looked to 2 places: France, and Austria. Spain was all like, hey, France is close by, and they're kind of like us, let's ask them. But the Austria said they would recognize Catalonia as separate from Spain, so the Catalan people were all like, hell yeah, let's go with Austria. This began a 14 year war knows as the War of the Spanish Succession. It was long, and difficult, and eventually Austria pulled out, and the Catalan people kept fighting to the bitter end. In the end, the last of the Catalan troops were lined up along a church wall, and executed for the public to see. That is this wall, and there is now a monument here.

That is a sad note to end on. So I will end on a happy one. Tonight I saw the Magic Fountain! And now you can too. All you have to do us pump up some 80's music, and scroll up and down the pictures below. Enjoy!