Mission Accomplished

So the Chinese remedy, homeopathic approach to having a cold while travelling and having a ton of work to do just didn’t have any impact and Wednesday morning I woke up even sicker with 2 days ahead of me of filming and meetings and carting my kit all over San Francisco and the Bay Area.  It was time for some serious cold meds from the pharmacy and so I found myself in possession of 5, 24 hour slow release pseudoephedrine tablets (after showing my passport to prove I wasn’t a drug trafficker).  I’m not much a of a one for pharmaceuticals but this was an emergency and they work a treat by basically dehydrating everything – including your sinuses.  Been taking them for 2 days and they truly are the difference between functioning and bed.  Problem is that I forget to eat and then start to feel really weird.  Not an ideal way to be but better than the alternative.

So as well as the meds I also decided that taxis were crucial for my survival over the next 2 days.  I’ve not really scrimped on hotels but I have needed to rely on public transport most of the time and limit my use of taxis – especially in London when I was travelling out an hour out of the centre and would have cost a small fortune.  But now my little trolley that I take the lighting kit and tripod on has lost its oomph – the elastic is slack and the trolley itself has bends in all the wrong places – basically it’s no longer the taught little number it was in London, and if I take a step with too much of a bump then everything shifts and falls apart – and I look like a bag lady in the street trying to put it all back together again.  So at this end of the game I reckon I deserve to take a taxi if I need to and my illness means I really need to.

So yesterday I took a taxi to Richmond, which is at the end of the BART line – a $60 trip.  The other problem here is that unlike in London where you could travel by train for an hour to someone’s house and yet they lived about 3 minutes walk from the station, here they live about an hour and a half walk or several miles from the station so you’d have to either get on a bus and walk or get a taxi from the station anyway.  The suburbs seem very spread out here as I’m sure parts of Melbourne are too, but I just don’t need to use public transport there in the same way (thank goodness).

So where was I …. Oh yes the taxi to Richmond.  There I met with Kitty Cone – or Curtis Cone as is her real name – the first female Curtis I’ve met.  Kitty was a charming and eloquent interviewee and we talked about the 504 sit in which was a protest in the 1970’s where people with disabilities occupied a government building for several weeks (I got all the exact details but my mind is a sieve when it comes to exact numbers and dates).  It sounded like a classic hippie protest only most of the participants were disabled.  They were fed during the protest by many community groups including the black panthers who brought in delicious food.

She also talked about the difficulty of becoming a parent and how happy she was when she finally adopted her son who is now grown up of course as Kitty is now 60.

After that I took a $30 taxi ride to the first ever Independent Living Centre in Berkeley - supposedly where the history all began.  I'd been warned that the place didn't look like much but as the driver pulled up I could have wept at the appearance of the place.  The plainest facade imaginable with the words Independent Living Centre established 1974.  There was urgency however as they're moving out to the brand spanking new Ed Roberts Campus next month so the history will be gone.  Inside the place made the old Open Channel in Fitzroy look glamorous.  

I had arrived totally unannounced and was invited in to meet one of their advocates and record an interview.  It was after 2pm and I hadn't eaten and was feeling really sick from the drugs I’d taken for my cold so I wasn’t really in the best frame of mind.  For once I didn't set up lights and really rushed it all.  This was regrettable actually because the guy was really articulate and had interesting things to talk about and I feel that I didn't do him justice.  Fortunately it’s really the only time it’s happened like this but I’m sure I’ll kick myself for not putting up at least one light.  When I’m hungry however my sanity is really borderline as many of you will know so that’s my excuse even if it’s a poor one.

After that I took another cab to the new as yet unopened Ed Roberts Campus to get a couple of shots of the exterior.  Nearby in desperation I ate Mexican style vegan food in this weird little shop - I have no idea what I ate - glug of various consistencies, some of it spicy some not, different colours too and a bit of salad on the side which was the only identifiable bit.  I began to come back from the walking dead enough to battle my way up and down escalators via the train to home.

The walk back from the station took me through the Tenderloin district dragging my cases between 2 homeless blokes pushing shopping trolleys.  I think they were trying to make me feel like I was part of their gang but it wasn’t working and the hills or course are a killer here.  I was gasping and dehydrated as I have been for 48 hours now.

San Francisco is actually the only place where I have often felt slightly unsafe.  There is a great deal of poverty and homelessness here - and litter, which makes an otherwise pretty city look rather down at heel.  Interestingly the BART station that the hotel staff recommended I use is about the same distance away but goes through a much nicer area only a few blocks away so now I know why they suggested that station instead of the one I tried yesterday.

So today again I needed my medication and taxis and headed out to Berkeley to meet with Joan Leon – key fundraiser for the Independent Living Centre, then for the World Institute on Disability and then for the Ed Roberts Campus.  I’m sure that woman has raised in the vicinity $100 million in her career and without her the movement could not have been as successful as it was.  Of course she was terribly modest about her achievements but I could see that the Berkeley movement was very fortunate to have had the commitment and hard work from this lovely woman.

By chance Joan lives 2 doors away from Ed Roberts’ mother Zona who is ninety and still going strong.  If I met her in the street I would pick her as being about 70.  Zona has done plenty of media in her lifetime and at first I was worried that her story might have become routine to tell.  After a few minutes however she relaxed into a very open and casual style of story telling which suited me fine.  It was one of those seemingly effortless hours where all I had to do what coax gently from time to time but she really gave me everything I could have wished for and more of their story.  She was only 18 when she had Ed and so they were very close – she says they grew up together which I can understand as I had a similar experience with Jasper.

So Zona told me lots about Ed including that he smoked pot (which she didn’t always approve of but it was his way of relaxing and she wished it was legal).  She said she worried about a man of his standing in the community getting busted for possession of marijuana as she thought it wouldn’t be a good look.  I’d read that Ed was a “stoner” but I wasn’t sure I would get it on camera but 2 people told me today so I’m comfortable with that if it makes it into the film.  I particularly like the vision of a guy who uses an iron lung and a respirator smoking anything, let alone smoking pot. 

There was much more that Zona told me – a lot of personal information that I probably won’t use but was very interested to hear.  It seemed that nothing was off limits but not all of it is relevant.  For those of you who don’t know, Ed contracted polio at the age of 14 and was left paralyzed from the neck down.  He became a key figure and leader of the disability rights movement until his death in 1995 aged 56.  Zona worked in the disability rights movement too and I got a sense that she and Ed were quite close for most of his life.  At the end of the interview she told me almost as an after thought that another one of her 4 sons had been murdered at the age of 29.  She described that as a greater loss because unlike Ed he had not lived the full life that Ed had.

As I was packing up the camera she said to me “I’ve had a wonderful life, I’ve been very lucky actually.”  I thought to myself that this is not a woman who dwells on the negatives in life.

After that again it was past 2pm and I was starving so Zona made me a chicken and salad sandwich which I devoured in record time before hiking further down the road, chasing Zona who was dragging my camera bag at speed to my next interview.

The third interview for the day was with Susan O’Hara – another early student at the Berkeley Campus.  Joan had arranged for me to interview Susan because of her availability in the same street as Joan and Zona.  We both weren’t sure whether she would have a major contribution to the story but the conversation unfolded and she told me of her first hand experiences living in the Cowell hospital where disabled students at Berkeley lived at the time.  She described it as a wonderful time where she really found her identity as a disabled woman where in the past she had avoided all contact with other people with disabilities.  I think we both really enjoyed our conversation and I felt that although it was a fairly brief interview, she certainly made some interesting points that I would love to find a place for in the story.

The final interview for the day was a short taxi ride away with Hale Zukas.  Hale is an important figure in the movement as he was there from the beginning lobbying for curb cuts and attendant care services.  He was also one of the original founders of the first Centre for Independent Living.  This was a more difficult assignment as Hale has a severe speech disability and refuses to use a communication aide.  He had an interpreter who sat with him and explained to me what he was saying.  There were times when I thought I knew what he was saying but her translation was actually quite different.  He certainly told her off if she got it wrong so I can only assume she was right most of the time but he certainly was hard to understand.  Because of the slowness of his communication I didn’t get to cover as much ground as I would have liked but I’m hoping there’s enough to include his voice as I strongly believe that people with speech disabilities should be heard especially in stories such as this.

At the end of it all Hale’s house was quite close to the Ashby BART station so I caught the train home – the wrong one in fact and ended up on the wrong side of town and with an extra half an hour to get home to my hotel.

So after 26 tapes, 27 interviews, 10 cities and fifteen different ways to turn on a tap I believe it’s almost mission accomplished.

Tomorrow I head off to LA for a weekend of fun with Eva (my friend and former business partner – we made our first 2 films together).  She’s got a broken foot so I’m the designated driver – so long as she’s in the car next to me telling me where to go. 

I get home Tuesday morning just in time to put a bet on the big race…. If only I had a clue who’s running and who’s hot.

No pictures today as I’ve had my head behind the movie camera for 2 days.

San Francisco

Feeling rather overwhelmed by a cold as I write this.  Woke up Sunday in Austin with a sore throat and by Monday in San Francisco it was an irritating cough and now it’s a full blown runny nose, cough etc.  Been taking cold remedy every 3 hours but I think I got started too late for best effect.  Tonight I saw a Chinese reflexology shop at fisherman’s wharf and spontaneously decided that’s just what I needed to fix me up.  Sat through a half hour foot work out and it was nice when it stopped.  “Drink Ginger in hot water and tomorrow you will feel better” promised the man so I am obligingly putting my faith in all things Chinese to get me better asap.

So I survived another encounter with American airlines – this time $65 poorer because they insisted that my Qantas round the world air ticket did not include any baggage and I must pay for my checked luggage.  Three days earlier this was not their policy but who knows this stuff – I’m sure they make it up as they go along.  I spent more than 30 minutes at the check in counter while they muddled their way through the contortions of my ticket and I took my revenge by refusing to pay cash and making them go through further rigmaroles to process my Australian debit card.  I didn’t see why I should make it easy for them to take money from me that I didn’t think I needed to pay and besides I wanted evidence of this silliness.

Delayed in Dallas for two and a half hours waiting for fog to lift in SF so I attempted to watch the NFL game on the television.  I don’t know why as it was incredibly stop start and consequently really boring.  I did see a new twist on the Lycra marathon though (my affectionate reference to Stella’s annual end of year ballet concert) which this time involved beefed up blokes in the shiny skin-tight textile.

So arrived early evening into SF, which didn’t seem to matter as it looked as if it had been a dreary wet day.  Hotel Vertigo is the perfect cheap and cheerful pad.  Great kooky décor, clean and smart with no frills and under $150 a night.  Front desk staff friendly and as usual no tea and coffee facilities in the room but I’m used to that now and I have my trusty water boiler.

Monday the sun came out and although there was a wintry chill in the air it was a beautiful day and locals were in short sleeves.  I headed off to Berkeley to the University of California where arguably disability rights started in this country when Ed Roberts was enrolled (of course they go back further than that but it’s a handy story).  I had ordered some archival material from the Bancroft library where they have a substantial collection of interest to disability historians like me.  The place is like Fort Knox and security measures are intense.  I was able to view a couple of pieces of video that might be useful but couldn’t copy anything even for draft use, which was frustrating.  Also I was hoping to see the 60 minutes story on Ed Roberts but it turned out to be a transcript not a video – such are the mysteries of libraries and if I were a librarian I probably would have picked that one – but I’m not.

The most interesting thing of all was a box of files relating to Ed Roberts (the so called father of the independent living movement) that I spent time browsing somewhat aimlessly through.  My vision of Ed was from a widely circulated picture of him released upon his death in 1995.   The picture is of a smiling middle-aged man slightly reclining in his wheelchair with a breathing tube in his mouth.  Aside from the paraphernalia of his disability he looks like any ordinary cheerful middle-aged bloke.  People talk of his charisma and he was obviously a gifted and much loved leader but I didn’t really get that from anything I’d read about him until I went through the box.  It was such an interesting experience to immerse myself and try to get to know the man.

What I found were photos of Ed with his son Lee and photos of him as a much younger and actually rather good looking man.  As a younger many I could see how attractive he was and the sparkle that was still in the eye of the older man seemed somehow naughtier in the younger Ed.

Then I read a story written by one of his attendants who wrote about going into the Ed zone when he worked with him.  He talked about travelling with Ed and how Ed liked nice hotels.  He said that for hotels, accessible rooms mean big bathrooms and the rooms themselves were not necessarily big enough for Ed to move around in his wheelchair.  Ed used a bed-pan not the bathroom and the size of the room was more important than the bathroom amenities.  So Ed would get his attendants to go up and inspect the room before he went in.  He quipped to one hotel receptionist “I shit in the bed I don’t care about the size of the bathroom.”  This and a couple of other funny, rather earthy stories suddenly made me see that Ed was funny and frank and I felt like I knew him so much better – and I liked him a lot.

My day getting to know Ed was tinged with sadness however because the previous night on arriving in San Francisco I received news that Anne McDonald had died rather suddenly on Friday night.  Anne’s story became an important part of our own disability rights history when she went to the Supreme Court to win the right to be released from an institution back in 1979.  Last year I recorded a small celebratory lunch that she held at her home where she lived with Rosemary and Chris.  The lunch was to celebrate 30 years since her win in the Supreme Court and 30 years of freedom she enjoyed living with Rosemary and Chris.  Anne and Rosemary wrote her story into a best selling book and also an acclaimed Australian Film “Annie’s Coming Out” which is one of Stella’s favourite films.  I had hoped to include Anne in this film I am making now.  I have met her several times over the past couple of years and I know she will be greatly missed by those she was close too and by the rest of us who knew her a little and were touched by her humour and her story.

When I came home from my day at Berkeley with the box of Ed I was super excited to find that 3 crucial interviews have fallen into place for Thursday  - actually now I have 4 – Joan Leon (co-founder of the World Institute on Disability plus plus plus), Zona Roberts (mother of Ed), Susan O’ Hara (with an interest in accessibility in France among other things) and Hale Zukas (one of Ed’s contemporaries who works at WID).

But first today I interviewed Mary Lou Breslin who is a key figure in disability law and gave me some wonderful material including a great description of the distinction between Human rights and civil rights (might be obvious to the rest of you but I was having trouble getting my head around it), and a really nice observation from the American point of view of the differences between the UK social model thinking and the American social model approach – similar but different.  You’ll have to watch the movie and I know these are plot twists where you’re desperate to know how it all works out – Yeah!

Missing Judy Heumann in Washington I thought was a real blow to this film but now that I’m here I know that I have enough of the other key people to make it valid plus my own selection of the less obvious but I believe important and interesting people who really make this movement unique.

The next 2 days are pretty full with appointments and things to do so this afternoon I took myself out to buy some videotape as I’m worried I’ll run out (4 tapes left and I probably need 5 or 6).  After that I caught a tram down Market street to Castro Street, walked along to Haight Street and along through the hippie precinct that is so famously San Francisco.  I must say that San Francisco has a noticeably larger population of weirdos and homeless people than any other place I’ve been to on this trip.  On the noisy crowded bus on the way home I had a man next to me giving deep and meaningful (and slightly boring) counselling to a friend on his phone while a rowdy bunch of black teens newly excited by their gayness shrieked and squealed at their phones and each other “I hate your bored ass bitch too” (said with affection if you can imagine it), was one classic line shouted into the phone.  Honestly it was like they were talking another language.  Unintelligible and over the top.

So, apologies for another instalment with probably way too much detail.  Only a week until I get home and stop this ranting about the minutiae of my days.

UC Berkeley - very pretty campus

Haight Ashbury district

Bizarre view from torturous Chinese foot massage

Friendly Texans Save the Day

After the misery of finding myself in a hotel on the 10 lane highway that I now know is the main highway that runs form Mexico to Canada (outside by front door thank you very much) today I decided to just tackle the place head on.

First up my interviews with Bob Kafka and his wife Stephanie Thomas – great stuff from both of them and totally made the trip to Austin worthwhile.  Bob is a great activist with the real fervour of the 70’s still in him but really articulate too.  Stephanie too gave me a great interview building on themes I explored with Bob – the history of ADAPT, Justin Dart a fellow Texan who travelled to every state in the union twice collecting personal stories of discrimination as well as talking strategies with politicians and activists in the lead up to the ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) in 1990.  Justin’s story need to be told so it was great that Bob was able to share his recollections.  I spoke with Justin’s widow Yoshiko earlier in the week but she is very reluctant to talk publicly because of fears about her English and also a desire not to damage Justin’s legacy by saying the wrong thing.  I think she is being way too modest but can only respect her position.

After my interviews with Bob and Stephanie I went for a walk to find some late lunch – ended up eating Mexican style vegetarian food – weird but acceptable.

On the way back I got a call from Jasper who I hadn’t spoken to for about a week or so.  Nice to catch up as I’ve missed his random outbursts on facebook and on the phone.  First night of proper trading at Pretty Please the new club he’s managing and all went well so he’s feeling pretty pleased with himself.  While I’m sitting on a seat on the street talking to Jasper on the phone a Mexican looking guy rides past on a bike – he looks a bit like Ollie – Jasper’s former business partner and the guy says hello to me – just the kind of random friendliness/chatting up that seems to happen all the time here and before I know it I’m saying hello thinking that it’s Ollie.  Earlier I ran across the road to beat the traffic (that comes at you from unexpected directions) and there were 3 black guys on the sidewalk.  One says full of charm “I thought you were running to me baby”.  “Sorry mate, just beating the traffic” I reply but these syrupy moments of Southern charm can’t help but make the old girl feel like a much younger girl.  Just take it at face value and enjoy it I say to myself.

So then tonight I decided I just had to force myself out the door and see something of what Austin has to offer.  I shared a cab with some other hotel guests into town.  They were going to see a concert of some band I’d never heard of but who were obviously a headline act.  I on the other hand was about to head out aimlessly on my own for the evening – not something I really embarked on with much enthusiasm but felt obliged to get out of the house so to speak.

So after wandering past several bars full of after work blokes and other meat rack taverns I settled on a slightly more classy looking place that served prohibition style cocktails (ie lots of absinthe) and pretty good looking food.  I went in, sat at the bar and felt about as comfortable as I could on my own in a bar.  There were a couple of nice-ish looking guys having a drink together next to me and when one of them went to the bathroom I struck up a conversation with the other.  Turned out they were friendly and unthreatening company.  Worked in money markets as some kind of weird engineering nerds who developed electronic trading systems (go figure).  So we talked about the world, money markets, Bill Gates, wealth and relative happiness, taxation, philanthropy, Australian politics, economics, a little about documentaries and disability rights and in general it was a stimulating night’s conversation.  I ate good food, drank an intoxicating cocktail, a nice glass of red wine and an affogatto with Amaretto – plus a really, really good pasta with mushrooms dish.  All in all an agreeable night out with some reasonable random company – just goes to show what you can do if you try.  Not really my style going out alone but if I’d stayed in I would have just been miserable.

Funnily the taxi driver on the way home just totally fell in love with my accent.  His Brazilian accent too had its charms but he was totally besotted by my voice – I almost got a free taxi ride (no strings attached – “just talk a bit more please”) but couldn’t bring myself to accept.  It was a sweet and happy encounter.

So I arrived home probably too early by 10pm but still managed to put away 3 drinks and feel woozy and pleased with myself for making the effort.

Tomorrow I might orientate myself a little more in daylight and try my luck again – stick to the nice bars and not drink too much.

Saturday….

What is it with these darn friendly Texans?  You won’t believe the day I’ve had.  I decided to make a slow start to the day and maybe head out around 2 in the afternoon as I didn’t want to do too much coming and going in taxis from my hotel.  So after lazing about reading and taking my time getting ready for the day – a small luxury without children – I caught a cab to where I thought there might be an area worth exploring.  I didn’t really hit the mark straight away and ended up wandering around the same streets I’d been in last night.  I wandered in to the Mexican museum and managed to just miss a musical performance, which was a shame.  Outside there was a half-hearted attempt at a Mexican street fiesta (maybe things would get livelier later at night) – see pictures for all the weird and wacky “day of the dead” stuff. And some Mexican style band playing music with more than a hint of Country and Western style – my least favourite music on the planet.

So after wandering about there I found the visitor information centre and was guided to the South Congress Area where all the cool shops and cafes are.  It was about a half hour walk away in fairly hot and windy conditions but turned out to be a bit of an oasis when I arrived.  It’s a bit of an eclectic shopping strip cleaved in 2 by 7 lanes of pretty busy traffic which to my mind spoiled the ambience somewhat but here the car is king so maybe it’s just the Texas way.

It was about 4 in the afternoon and I felt like a meal so I settled into a cool (in both senses) room next to the funky retro Austin Motel.  The waiter pretty quickly tuned into my Australian accent and told me how he’d been an exchange student in Brisbane as a teenager.  He obviously still loved Australia and Australians and before long he’d suggested that as he was about to finish work for the day maybe he could take me to a bar he was heading out to where there might be some good music.  He went to lengths to reassure me that he was dating someone and purely being friendly and so off we went.  Ryan meet Sarah, Sarah meet Ryan.

Turned out the bar he was going to is owned by Lance Armstrong and is called “Johnny Mayo’s” or some such – a play on Jeune Maillot I think which is the French for Yellow Jersey.  I’m sure I have the name of the bar not quite right and possibly the French translation too but you get the idea – a bit cheesy.  So the bar was actually not jumping as expected so Ryan takes me instead on a tour of the Texas Congress building.  We talk politics and, music a bit (but my current music knowledge is a bit rusty so I don’t go too deeply there).  He’s a drummer working on a solo project at the moment but he had been in a band that toured Poland among other places and he dreams of moving to Poland, marrying a nice Polish girl and growing old under a European health system instead of the American one – I kid you not this is what he told me.  He’s 33 by the way.  The health system is a HUGE issue in the country.

So after our short but interesting tour of Congress we head back to the South Congress area and go to another bar so he can eat and we have a couple of beers and chat more.  We both had a really fun time – he was happy to tune back into Australia and I was more than happy to be taken out and about by a friendly local.  I showed him the YGAP teaser on my iphone, we talked about all kinds of things and then by about 8 o’clock it was time for him to go and meet up with his girlfriend.

You can never predict these things yet somehow travelling with a slightly unusual accent seems to open doors and of course you have to be ready to walk through and see what’s on the other side.  After Ryan left I wandered around for a little longer but really couldn’t sustain the energy or interest for a late night of music.  I felt like I’d soaked up enough of the Austin ambience and friendliness, so I ate some chocolate, peanut butter and banana ice cream – not bad, and jumped into a taxi home.

Beer bottle teeth on the Mexican skull

Ryan my new Texan friend

Shop window

What can I say???????

Chapel Street Bazaar - Austin Style

Ice cream flavors - these has got yer alcohol!

Get me out of Texas

Well I can’t say I was sad to fly out of Washington today – I probably stayed a day longer than I needed to but I couldn’t have known that 3 months ago when I booked the trip.  I used my last day to spend $200 on long distance phone calls from my hotel to California – they would have cost the same on my mobile so you can’t really win when you’re travelling.  I just wish people would answer their emails and then the calls wouldn’t be necessary.  So I made a few calls to voice mail services and spoke to one or 2 people and sorted out about one thing – maybe 2 so $200 doesn’t really feel like good value.  But then it’s not really been a day for good value and at this end of the trip value is becoming rather important as the money is alarmingly nearly all gone.

So I get to check in for my flight and of course my baggage is over weight – but just how much I can’t really tell because it weighs in pounds not kilograms and I have no idea what the limit is in pounds and I also have no idea how much my cases now weigh excepts that I car barely pick it up (and I’m strong).  So I hand over $50 for excess baggage.

Then I get on the plane and unsurprisingly my camera bag won’t fit in the overhead locker – American airlines again.  So I have to hand it over for check in.  It’s the first time I’ve had to check in my camera so I’m a little nervous but I also realise that if I keep the bag with me until the last minute they don’t charge me to the additional item of luggage ($100 excess instead of $50).  So do I have to continue this charade of not realising that my bag won’t fit in the overhead lockers  for the next 2 flights? – oh it’s all too tiresome.  This is a bag that’s fitted in Jetstar overhead lockers and even Easyjet in Europe where they don’t even reserve you a seat – but at least the overhead lockers are big enough for my bag.  AA no way.

So my flight from Washington to Austin stops in Dallas so I come over all Sue-Ellen Ewing and need a drink but that’s nothing compared to how I feel when I arrive at my hotel in Austin.  Now Austin is supposed to be a very cool and groovy place and I must say I was looking forward to hanging out and possibly catching a bit of the music scene and whatever other grooviness Austin has to offer.  Well I can tell you I won’t be catching anything of anywhere at this hotel I’m stranded in – miles out of town right next to 8 lanes of mainline traffic and air conditioned by two of the noisiest air conditioning units on the planet with a decibel level to rival the local music scene I’m sure.

While the hotel itself is newish and smart to look at, I can only recommend it to deaf people with their own cars – who like spicy Chinese food as that’s all that’s on offer to eat – no shop nearby and no minibar.  Nothing except traffic within walking distance.  The only way to get out of here is by taxi.

I spent 2 hours online trying to find alternate accommodation but it’s the weekend and everywhere that’s reasonably priced is fully booked so I feel I can only stay put and blow the budget on taxis.

I have just one interview tomorrow with Bob Kafka.  Bob by all accounts is a legend and an important figure in the disability rights movement but I’m having trouble getting a really good handle on his story and all I have is a handful of scattered ideas and topics for our interview.  I just hope he turns out to be one of those great speakers who makes it easy for interviewers because if he’s not I could be in trouble and feeling more depressed about this diversion to Austin.

The view from my hotel - worse than it looks

Washington - Policy and Power

Up close at the White House

The Oval Office - so beautiful in the gardens

Sarah Barton reporting from Washington

Special event - Wheelchair fabulousness.

It's so male!!

Washington Metro - Pizazz

Australian Embassy - depressingly ordinary - but quaint.

Three days no blog – just been way too tired and busy and I thought I’d give you all a break.  Sunday was a real treat actually.  The day started off with me feeling too tired to start all over again in a new city.  New Public transport system, new map, new sights to see – all felt a bit too much.  So I spend the morning sitting in my room listening to the last of may carousing neighbours – gosh they had a good weekend – and writing a submission.  Got really into it but by lunch time the sun was beaming in so strongly that I thought I really should get out at least for a little while.  Decided to hire a bike again as that’s a great way to see a new city but sadly the automated system didn’t like my credit card so no bile for me – I was forced to walk.  Well this actually turned out to be a good thing as I walked down to the White House – about 20 minute walk and had a snoop around and when I got round the other side a man in the street asked if I’d like a ticket to go inside? 

Tickets were free and it turns out that the While House Gardens are only open twice a year and Sunday was one of those days.  Well the weather couldn’t have been any more perfect and it was a realy treat to get up so close to the Oval Office, West Wing and the entrance to the house as well as seeing the gardens including the famous veggie garden that provides a balanced diet for squirrels as well as something for humans too.

After my stroll around the White house I wandered off in the direction of the capital building which is about a mile away and on the way found myself irresistibly close to the National Gallery of Art (modern east wing) so went in for some more free entertainment in the form of their stunning art collection – all my favourites Pollock, Frank Stella, the pop mob, and my absolute fave who has to be seen live so to speak – Rothko.  They even had a special exhibition of black Rothkos in the tower complete with soundtrack from the Houston Chapel where bigger black Rothko panels hang in a non-denominational space for meditation.  That was lots of fun – if fun is the word for a room full of black Rothkos.

Next I stumbled into a room full of 19^th century French paintings the likes of which would have them 20 deep for winter masterpieces at the NGV – but my luck only a handful of others were there to enjoy them.  Then they had another enchanting display from Arcimboldo the Italian guy who made faces out of fruit in the 16^th century– way ahead of his time.  The final room was full of Munch – maybe exciting for many but I just find his work a little dreary.  Did an obligatory walk through but couldn’t get excited.  The final piece of resistance I stumbled upon was Dali’s last supper – a stunning work – one of his really great paintings which reminded me how disappointing the Melbourne Dali exhibition was filled with so many minor works and not enough really big strong pieces and of course way too many people.  I was happier to see just this one stunning piece than to wade through that whole show frankly.

After dragging myself out of the Art Gallery I pressed on toward the Capital building and got close enough for a reasonable photo before turning back towards my hotel which by now was several miles back in the other direction.

Sunday night I had arranged to meet with Curtis Richards who Judy Heumann suggested could help me with my film.  Although Curtis wasn’t one to be interviewed he did indeed provide me with some good leads and an overview of who and what I needed to know.  The whole meeting however was accompanied by double gin and tonics (the bar man took a shine to me) followed by several glasses of red wine.  Needless to say I woke up the next day feeling a little seedy.

Monday I spent the morning on the phone and spoke to the lovely and charming Japanese widow of Justin Dart who sadly won’t be interviewed because she doesn’t feel confident about her English and also doesn’t want to harm Justin’s legacy by misrepresenting his ideas.  I can only respect her position but it was a pleasure talking to her.  Made more calls to people who were just about to go out of town or weren’t back yet  and generally weren’t available for me when I needed them – I think that’s Washington, lots of coming and going.

In the afternoon I went to meet Katherine Ott who’s the disability history expert at the Smithsonian Institute.  She had one of the loveliest offices I have ever been in – very homey and overfilled with ephemera and neat piles of papers and books interspersed with interesting toys, many of them figures with some kind of physical difference – including Barbie’s friend “Becky” from the 2000 Sydney Paralympics – pondering her event we decided it was wheelchair fabulousness.  Katherine actually gets paid to research and develop exhibitions about disability (always through a rights lens) – I so want her job if only it existed in Melbourne.

By the time I got home on Monday, arrangements for today had fallen into place perfectly.  This morning I went to the Department of Transportation to meet with Richard Devylder (check out the video of his story here if you have time http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l96aNpaZ-xc ).  I talked to him about transport and emergency services but he also gave some really quotable quotes about rights in general.  Smart and succinct – these Americans really do good interviews.

Caught the metro back to the hotel – fully accessible with lifts – yay.  Washington DC metro system is a fine and very handsome example of the brutalist architectural style (think Harold Holt swimming pool).  Lots of hard concrete but beautifully lit and a lovely touch of red in floor lights along the edge of the platforms that dim lighter and darker when a train is approaching – very elegant.  Unfortunately when I took the metro the second time later int eh day I accidently bought a $15 ticket from the machine that I can’t possibly use in the next 24 hours.  I’ll have to give it away to someone who needs it more than me.

This afternoon I filmed an interview with Kathy Martinez, Assistant Secretary for the Office of Disability Employment Policy in the US Department of Labor – phew!  The interview was pre arranged by the public relations people to take place in the departmental library as all other spaces were unavailable.  Only later did it occur to me that filming an interview with a blind woman in front of a library full of books contains more than a hint of irony.  At the time I was too busy pulling out all 3 of my lights for a beautifully lit moment – set up, recorded and out the door in less than 90 minutes.

The interview itself again was spot on and as she was talking I could see pieces of the puzzle clicking together – linking to other comments and building on them.  It’s exciting when that happens as I’ve shot a lot of material and sometimes I’ve wondered where it’s all going.  Kathy says great stuff about employment and also about what we call poverty traps and how to help people take that leap from welfare to employment – especially in America where health care is such a barrier and a frightening chasm to fall into.

So tonight looks like being the first early night I’ve had in ages and tomorrow the plan is to make plans – get ready for Austin on Friday and California next week.  I don’t want to get caught on the hop like I sort of did this week so I think a planning and admin day is what’s needed.  Boring but true.

Australian embassy I discovered is directly across the road from my hotel room – a smallish, square, Canberra sized building in a town full of oversized, overblown, monumental expressions of American might.  Rather quaint in the circumstances.

I love Red Caps

Only In America

Philadelphia city hall

Delightful Deco

Red Cap waiting area at Philly Station

Arrived in Washington DC (the DC being the most important bit apparently – not even sure what it means) and am now trapped in my room because my door won’t close.  If I go out as I thought I would, then my room is left entirely unlocked which is suspect is unwise.  So I wait for the person from “engineering” which is probably a handy man who has to travel in from some far flung suburb with a tool kit and mess about with the door for an hour or so … probably in an hour or so when it’s too dark for me to go out.  Ah the myriad of minor irritations of travel.  Now there’s a cacophony of church bells going off which is quite full on and makes me for a moment think I might be in Paris or somewhere more exotic – sadly that was last weekend.

So I left Philadelphia today and Philly was a very handsome city – lots of lovely art deco buildings and a broadly laid out city of great proportions.  It looked to me like it might be quite a nice place to live and the little streets around where my hotel was were charming and had nice interesting shops.  This morning there was also a rather swish square with a farmers market selling the usual farmers market offerings.

Yesterday was a big one.  Started off at 8am at Liberty Resources which is a large building that houses a Centre for Independent Living that provides independent living resources for disabled people as well as the offices of ADAPT which organises actions or protests for disability rights – their main concern currently is getting people out of nursing homes, where about 1.5 million disabled people still live – many against their will.  At Liberty I recorded an interview with Nancy Solandra and she talked about a group of disabled people who marched in 2005 I think from Philadelphia to Washington (about 400 miles).  It took 2 weeks and an enormous amount of work to organise and I’m not sure how successful it was in reaching their objectives but it sounds like it was a memorable event.  I’m actually surprised how much they are still using direct action as a form of protest as I feel that these days in Australia these kinds of protests are not as likely to be the first line of attack.  Maybe I’m wrong or maybe we just don’t have the organisers that they do here.

In the afternoon I took a train about 40 minutes out of Philly to see Johnny Crescendo who was a leader in the UK movement and a singer, songwriter and poet before moving to Philadelphia.  He’s still all of the above but just here now instead of there if you follow me.  Johnny was great and gave me lots of his time and I think actually enjoyed being interviewed about what he’s done over the past few decades.  I also managed an interview with his wife Cassie who’s a leader as well but she wasn’t feeling well so the interview was quite short and certainly not as upbeat as Johnny’s.

Johnny wants to tour Australia so I’d like to try and help him make that happen If I can. 

Later ….

So the engineer finally arrived after a second request and indeed was a man with one tool who fixed the door in a flash and got me outside before dark.  The local area is quite good for all the essentials one needs so I got myself set up for a few days in the same place and came back weary and watched a movie.

There’s a raucous couple in the room next door and intermittently there’s yelping, loud doof, doof music and then it goes quieter again for a while except for the TV which I can hear quite clearly.

This hotel is quite trashy – claims to be a luxury boutique hotel but actually is a tired old dump with a bit of bling thrown about for decoration.  Not cheap either but apparently nothing is in DC.

Right now I don’t really have the energy for a new city – new map, new rail system, new hotel, etc.  I wish I was more excited about being here but at present I’m about as excited as I would be if I were in Canberra – actually maybe less so.

Oh dear – I think the couple in the next room are having sex – and the TV is still on.  Maybe the sex is on the TV – but I don’t think so.  Probably time for me to turn the TV on – loud.

So where was I ….I have loads of material to go through.  Tapes to log, DVD’s from Johnny to copy and post back to him, other DVD’s that people have given me to watch, plus a funding application to write before about Wednesday.  So I’m thinking that a day at the hotel this week might not be a bad thing. 

Two of the people I was hoping to meet in DC are actually overseas – Judy Heumann and Andy Impararto so I’m not sure how things will unfold but last week I feel was really good and I’m also now confirmed to meet with Bob Kafka in Austin (phew – I’m glad I’m not going all that way for nothing) next Friday and I’m also feeling good about San Francisco – my final week in the US.  So if DC is the flat point so be it – I just have to get through 5 nights in this dodgey hotel.  It feels like what the Chelsea Hotel in New York might have been like had I stayed there – but obviously without the legendary cred as far as I know.

Tomorrow is Sunday and the weather should be sunny and nice.  My plan is to get out and bond with DC so hopefully next time I’ll be feeling more positive about the place. 

The last thing I want to say apropos of nothing really is that I LOVE the red cap service.  Red caps are the super friendly guys who work for Amtrack (the railways) who help people like me with too much luggage and disabled and elderly people on and off the trains.  Today in Philly I met Tony who speaks Philadelphian and Italian.  Tony was across everyone’s travel movements and was a born organiser I think.  He even rang ahead to Washington to make sure another Red Cap came to meet me at the train – sadly Tony himself couldn’t do both ends as he was a star.  I’m sure if I went back to Philly in a year he’d remember me by name – not because I’m dazzlingly memorable but just because he’s that kinda guy.  Seriously today the Red Caps made my day because any day that I have to move is an issue (3 heavy items of luggage plus heavy handbag into 2 hands is a tricky one).  Whose idea was it to bring a lighting kit anyhow?

Philadelphia

This is the bit I hate about travelling along and NOT travelling light.  Transit.  I’m sitting at Penn station having narrowly missed having to get the subway to the station with all my luggage.  The taxi driver who picked me up from the hotel said there’s been an armed robbery at Penn plaza and all roads were blocked – oh help.   Fortunately by the time we reached the relevant corner all the police blocks had been removed and the traffic was able to get through.  Was met by a large courteous black man who assisted me with my luggage about as helpfully as I could wish for. 

Before I checked out of the Desmond Tutu Centre I managed to squeeze in an interview with Nadina Laspina – a gorgeous looking Italian woman with a long mane of thick dark curly hair and a magnificent face.  Nadina grew up in Sicily and arrived in New York at the age of 13.  She’s been arrested hundreds of times and currently has the American equivalent of a restraining order against her preventing her from going near any of the public government buildings in Washington DC.  She has also brought dozens of law suites alleging disability discrimination against American companies to bring them into line with American disability discrimination law.  She’s something of a professional nuisance who agitates for disability rights.  I wish I’d had more time to interview her more in depth but I think I still got some interesting quotes from her.

Later....

Took the train from New York to Philadelphia and spent the whole journey chatting with Alan Cohen – a charming retired teacher who was travelling to Philly to give a workshop about dreams and what they mean.  We talked a little about dreams and documentaries and a lot about politics about which we seemed to be in furious agreement on a range of policies. Lots of comparisons between the Australian and American system, so the 2 hour train journey passed quickly and pleasantly.

Arrived in Philadelphia in driving rain – and then once I arrived at my hotel had my fist tipping run it - told off by obsequious bell man for not tipping enough.  Of course I ended up wildly overcompensating and giving him a tenner and now feel totally confused.  Why can't they just pay them a proper wage and be done with it?  It's just embarrassing and confusing really but I'm sure Americans all feel comfortable about it.  Before I arrived I had asked my friend Eva about tipping etiquette and sh suggested that 1 or 2 dollars was sufficient for moving baggage about - well this bloke just turned his nose up at it - who's got a clue .  Then there's the issue of always needing heaps of change in your wallet and I only ever seem to have 20 dollar notes and quarters - nothing in between.  Nothing quite as humiliating as a lecture on tipping from an irritated bell man.  

Since I left my last hotel 4 hours ago there was the bloke at that hotel who put my bags in the taxi, the taxi driver, the bloke who appeared curbside and helped me into the station (now he was good value and I gave him $5), the bloke who helped me from the waiting room to the train, the bloke who managed the taxi queue at Philly station, the Philly taxi driver, the bloke who helped me get my gear out of the taxi on the street and finally the feisty one who brought my gear up to my room and told me off.  That's 8 people who probably expected me to give them $5 - $10 tip each –that’s $40 - $80 plus the taxi fares (which actually were cheap) just for tipping to get form one hotel to another. 

In Philadelphia tonight for 2 nights - hotel is cute but no kettle in the room.  Room service coffee $7.00 plus $3.50 delivery fee +18% service charge – plus a tip presumably.  I think I’ll just get a take out from down the street or go without.  Tea $4 plus plus plus the usuals – it can’t be that good.

Went out briefly but the rain is penetrating so I didn’t get far – bought take away for dinner out of resentment at the lack of a kettle when I would have liked room service.  The area looks lovely but the weather’s not making it easy.  I have a big day tomorrow starting at 8am so I’m looking forward to that – hanging out with and interviewing a bunch of radical activists – a nice contrast to this hotel which I’m finding irritating because of its smug hipness and bossy bell man.  I had to call housekeeping just to find out how to drain the sink – what’s that about?  I wasted about 4 minutes of my life that I won’t get back trying to find it.

Let’s see what tomorrow brings.  A better mood perhaps.

Stacked cars

I've forgotten the name already - the High Path??? Chelsea NY

An altar against boredom - NY

By popular demand - the necklace