It's Hip to be a Hippy

Apparently Husband and I are hippies. That is according to the current generation of teenagers and young people.

Teenage Son just came back from a camp. One of his leaders noticed his earring and asked him how long his ear had been pierced. He replied that he’d had it done when he was about eight. She then asked if it had been okay with Husband and me or if he’d had to be persistent in his request. He told her that we’d let him immediately. She decided that that made us cool. I’m not really sure how. I’ve just never subscribed to the bourgeois idea that there is anything wrong with piercings or outrageous hairstyles. I have to confess, though, that I’m not a huge fan of mullets. They tend to brand people which is something I don’t like.

On the camp, Teenage Son did a program in which they talked about the ethics or non-ethics of chocolate. He went on to spontaneously educate the other campers and some of the leaders about the Ethical Consumer Guide and which companies were unethical. When asked about his knowledge he told people about the Footprints Project. Not only were we then considered cool but hippies, as well.

The summer of love occurred when I was about four years old. We didn’t live in San Francisco and I don’t really remember it. My parents, however, were activists. That being the case, I was exposed to hippies and their ideology. As the hippy era waned and we grew into the 1970’s I decided I wanted to be a hippy when I grew up. Too bad for me I’d missed the boat!

I don’t consider myself a hippy; I don’t believe they exist anymore. I believe they were a group in a moment in history. However, if anyone wants to consider me one because of Footprints that’s a compliment I’m prepared to take.

Peace.

Conspicuous Consumerism

I hate going anywhere near large regional shopping centres, or even into the city, during the school holidays. They're so full inside that it's almost impossible to find a parking place outside. To me that represents conspicuous consumerism at its worst. I realise that my local big shopping centre also houses a cinema and a bowling alley which accounts for some of the crowd but by no means all of it. Twice each year I'm forced to go to town or Marion or both during the school holidays. During the summer holidays Teenage Son wants to spend any Christmas/Chanukah money he received and during the winter holidays he wants to spend birthday money. Consequently, last week I took him to Marion. It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. That's not to say I enjoyed the experience by any means. I enjoyed the time with Teenage Son, however.

The first stop was JB hifi where he bought some DVD's. I can't point the finger at him because, while I waited for him to go through the checkout, I noticed the DVD of Nirvana unplugged going out for $10. All thoughts of Footprints were forgotten as I raced towards the checkout myself clutching my beloved Kurt Cobain.

We then went to the ABC shop to look at Dr Who paraphernalia. Have I ever mentioned that it's "chic to be geek" and that my son is very cool by that definition? I swooned over a Richard Armitage DVD but resisted his dark, smouldering sexuality. After all, I was clutching Kurt Cobain. Teenage Son couldn't find anything he wanted so we went to Games World instead where he bought both Dr Who and Big Bang Theory paraphernalia. There is an awful lot of stuff out there probably made in sweatshops to help us fulfil our need to collect meaningless things that go with our favourite TV shows and movies. *shiver* There were many people in there proving that it is indeed chic to be geek these days!

We then proceeded to Kmart where he bought Big Bang Theory and Harry Potter posters. Quite clearly books and shows aren't enough. As long as all the extra stuff continues to be bought it will continue to be manufactured. At this stage we're still part of that.

Lastly we went to my favourite shop, Typo. I'm sure it has no ethical sourcing policy but when I'm there I forget about that and think about how much I NEED a laptop cover with a picture of the Eiffel Tower on it. Fortunately I was able to resist. I may not be so lucky next time...

Both children are away this week so one would think I'd be able to avoid Marion. Husband is on holiday and we went to the movies yesterday. All I can say is that we got our exercise for the day walking from where we parked!

School goes back on Monday and I'm hoping that, if I need to go to Marion, it will be quieter. What I'm really hoping, however, is that I don't need to go there and that I can find the things I want at the Salvos. Or maybe rethink whether I need them at all.

Cheers.

Eating and Shopping Ethically on Holiday

This will be my last post about our Sydney holiday. We've been back for over a week now and I'm bound to start to forget small details soon! As I mentioned previously Husband and I stayed in an apartment. We bought groceries so we could have some meals there and eat some out.

After my arrival I went in search of the Coles Husband had given me directions to. He gave me great directions except for the fact that he told me it was on the ground floor of the World Tower. After wandering around aimlessly for quite some time I found it in the basement. By then I was starting to feel a little hungry. Our apartment was surrounded by wonderful restaurants and the smells that followed me on that short walk to Coles got the gastric juices flowing.

I wasn't happy to have to shop at one of the duopoly. Once there, however, I stuck to products that I know to be ethical. I bought them in smaller sizes so there'd be less food wastage. Unfortunately that meant more packaging.

One of the annoying things about my metabolism is that I can go from a little peckish to feeling faint and disorientated from hungry in a short space of time. After emerging from Coles at dinner time I'd reached the second state of being and needed to get some dinner into me asap. That being the case I walked past several lovely little eating places, unsure of how long it would take to be served, and walked into Nando's where I had dinner in hand in less than ten minutes. Ooops, a multinational dinner.  It wasn't my proudest moment but I gulped down that chicken wrap and chips greedily.

The next day Husband arrived and we made up for my bad girl excesses of the previous evening by having lunch out at a local French patisserie.

Back to bad the next day with lunch at The Hard Rock Cafe. That was my decision - again. It wasn't due to hunger this time. It was based on the same premise as our visit to Madame Tussaud's. I wanted to be able to add eating at a Hard Rock Cafe to a metaphoric list of life milestones. Okay, I guess that means I'm sheltered and don't have much of my life but I've eaten at a Hard Rock Cafe.

The next two days we ate at small local places again. I've already mentioned the dodgy lift up to the Japanese restaurant. It was warm and inviting inside on a cold wet day. Husband and I were the only people in there who were not Asian. I thought that was a pretty good endorsement. We were also the only people over the age of 25. As we sat down to a late lunch around 2.30 students began to stream in for afternoon tea.

A Korean meal followed the next day. It was another small place filled with Asian customers. We weren't disappointed; it was really good. The fire and spice of the Korean kimchi perfectly complimented the blander flavours of the Japanese from the previous day.

Being on holiday we took more liberties with our food choices. We bought snacks and chocolates where we would have forgone them at home. We bought them at the supermarket and stuck with ethical brands. We felt like we were on holiday but remained, where possible, conscious of the footprint we were leaving.

Cheers.

Eco-friendly Transportation

Husband and I did better on the CO2 emissions from vehicles in Sydney than we do in Adelaide. We live out in the mortgage belt where public transport has not kept up with population growth. Each time services are cut, ours are the ones hit the hardest. My local IGA is within walking distance but anything beyond that calls for a car trip. Husband is a sales rep so he does a lot of driving around. Being away gave us a break from that.

I flew to Sydney by myself. Of course when I booked my ticket I made sure I bought the carbon offset option, as well. Upon arrival – because I didn’t really know where I was going – I took a taxi to the apartment. I had a charming taxi driver who ripped me off big time. This was my third trip to Sydney in five years so I have a fairly good idea of how much it costs to go from the airport to the city and he charged me double. I’m not sure how it happened but it put me off using taxis. Husband flew in next day and didn’t get ripped off. That’s probably because he goes to Sydney so often he told the driver exactly how to get from the airport to the apartment.

Our apartment was near Chinatown and Darling Harbour, as well as the World Tower shopping centre. That being the case we didn’t need to use any transport to get to Madame Tussaud’s, the Powerhouse Museum or the supermarket. On the evening the children performed at the Opera House we caught a taxi there and back. The day we went to Sydney Tower we caught the monorail and then walked back the apartment – with aching legs! Husband did the walk twice since he left his camera behind and had to walk back to try to find it. The good news is that some honest person handed it in to the Concierge. I didn’t mind the idea of losing the camera but I was mortified to think we might have lost all our Madame Tussaud’s pictures. We took a taxi to see the children perform at Angel Place but had a lovely walk back to the apartment. By that time there was a small improvement in the condition of the legs – either that or they’d gone numb.

The day we left we took a shuttle bus to the airport. That was quite an adventure since the driver was obviously mad as a hatter. She swerved in and out of lanes, swore at other drivers and pedestrians and nearly took out one of the latter. That being said, the pedestrian didn’t have right of way... The shuttle was cramped and uncomfortable. I nearly had a panic attack but chose to try to view it as an adventure instead. Nevertheless, I was relieved to make it to the airport alive. Part of the adventure was a young tourist chatting up the girl next to him. That’s fine – they were both young back packers. I certainly did my share of chatting up young men when I was a young traveller. However, his voice was really loud so everyone on the small cramped shuttle got to hear all about how he said pop instead of soda and had failed a uni paper due to wrong sub-classifications. Riveting stuff.

The next time I go to Sydney I think I’ll try the train from the airport to the city...

Cheers.

Upstairs, Downstairs.

Space is at a premium in many places and it makes sense to build up. I hadn’t really thought that much about it until we were in Sydney last week. In fact, I don’t think I would have thought about it there either had we not been evacuated from our apartment one evening.

Husband and I were sitting relaxing after a day of sightseeing when we got the message to evacuate the building. Our apartment was on the 31^st floor and the lobby was on the 10^th. There were a lot of stairs for us to descend. By the time we got to the bottom I had a severe case of jelly legs. Once out on the street we were told we could go back in because it was false alarm. Tell that to my legs. The next morning my calves and quads were so sore I could barely walk. That speaks volumes about my level of strength and fitness I know but that’s for an as yet unwritten poem entitled, “Ode to a Weak and Unfit Blogger”, not for here.

I decided that, if there was another evacuation, I would take my chances staying in the building and waiting for a sexy fireman to rescue me because there was no way I was going to walk down all those stairs again. Ever. There was no need, however, as we were left in peace for the rest of the trip. We took the lift up and down for the rest of the trip. I was doing that Footprints no no before my legs expired and would continue to do so. The building we stayed in was very tall and full of guests; I imagine the electricity used in just the lifts was enormous and I definitely contributed to that one. Except, of course, during the “Great Evacuation of 2012”.

The day after – when my legs were sore but not yet at their worst – we went to the Powerhouse museum. It is on three levels and one can use stairs, escalators or lifts. Under normal circumstances I would have taken the stairs. Unfortunately, pain precluded me from doing so. I opted for the escalators because they are moving whether I’m on them or not. That way, I didn’t feel like I was contributing to the power consumption.

We ate lunch in a little noodle restaurant in Chinatown which was upstairs. There were no stairs in sight, only a dodgy and rickety looking and sounding lift. Normally the lift would have made me anxious; that day I was glad I had no choice. I guess we could have eaten elsewhere but we were famished after a few hours in the museum and in no mood to shop around. Furthermore, my legs were too sore for any more walking.

The next day we went to the Sydney Tower. We took the monorail. One has to go up to get to the monorail station. Again I was in so much pain – worse actually than the day before – that I had to use the lifts. I felt like a very bad girl. Of course, in the Tower itself the lift is the only way to the top. Each lift is packed full of people for the ascent so I didn’t feel too guilty. Coming down was worse because Husband and I took one by ourselves.

That night we went to see our children perform at Angel Place Recital Hall. We came in downstairs and had to go up. I again took the lift with no apologies. There was, however, someone else in there with me so I felt a little less guilty. Husband was so embarrassed he took the stairs shaking his head in disbelief at my wimpiness. I’m going to remind him of it the next time he has a man cold. I walked down later, feeling very self-righteous and saying “ouch” with each step. By then I’d been shown up by my friend’s dad who has trouble getting around but still managed to get up the stairs.

The last stairs I had to face were the ones at our own airport upon our arrival home. Again I opted for the escalator.

Had I not had sore legs I would have taken the stairs automatically at most of those places without even thinking about it. The exceptions would have been in our apartment building, at the Tower and in Chinatown where we couldn’t see stairs. The upside of it was that I learnt two things. First of all, strong limbs shouldn’t be taken for granted and, second, there are a lot of places where we need to make the choice in our lives each day whether we’re going to take stairs, escalators or lifts. I’m going to opt for the stairs to keep my contribution to carbon emissions lower and build up some strength in my calves and quads!

Cheers.

My Sydney Trip - Part One

Last week I went to Sydney for a few days. The main purpose of the trip was to watch my children perform. Husband came too and we managed to sneak in a couple of touristy things as well.

The trip got me thinking about entertainment. It seems that, as long as humans have existed, they have sought out and engaged in entertainment. As a species we love to watch and play sports, create and listen to or read stories, draw and paint and look at Art, dance, sing and act. The forms of entertainment around these days bear little resemblance to those of our early ancestors but they still fulfil that need we have.

The touristy things Husband and I did were, in some cases, forms of entertainment. We walked around Darling Harbour, went to Madame Tussaud’s, wandered around the Powerhouse Museum and went to the top of the Sydney Tower.

Yesterday I went on a hypothetical journey about what would happen if stores engaged in enormous boycotts. That, however, is not really what Footprints is all about. It’s about what my family is doing to live as ethically as possible. Today I want to look at some of what we did and how ethical it was. I’m going to specifically focus on the places listed above.

I really liked Darling Harbour. What I liked the most were the fountains. There was one in particular where jets of water on both sides created an archway of water. As I admired them I wondered whether they used a pump to minimize water consumption. I then thought, however, if they did, that the pump probably used electricity. Husband suggested that evaporation would mean periodic topping up of the water. The fountain was going to be there whether I was or not. Furthermore, since I wasn’t consuming it, my admiration of it was not leading to any supply and demand. I figured that my coming to Darling Harbour and admiring it would have no impact whatsoever.

Husband was lukewarm on Madame Tussaud’s. It was purely my idea. I wanted to go there at least once in my life and thought that Sydney was the one I was most likely to be able to get to. Why wait and never end up going? I don’t have a bucket list but going to Madame Tussaud’s felt like it was something I could say I’d done in my life. It far exceeded our expectations. It was so much fun. Husband ended up having a ball. Photography with the wax models was encouraged and props were provided. I suspect the whole thing was an environmental no-no. There were lights and loud music. Furthermore, all that wax and paint can’t be good. To be honest, I’d do it again. A big cross on the Footprints report card for that one. There would be supply and demand with Madame Tussaud’s. It is a ticketed place; it stays open because people visit it. By going and admitting I’d go again I’m contributing to the problem.

Another day we spent several happy hours in the Powerhouse museum. Museums are interesting. They do use electricity and preservation chemicals. However, not only do they entertain us, they teach us. I learnt so much at the Powerhouse Museum it made my head spin. Jury’s still out on this one. I’m loathe to write anything negative about visiting museums; I’m a History major.

Sydney Tower! Once up there it’s a panoramic view of Sydney. It’s really only the short 4D cinema experience and the lifts that I can find to condemn. So I was happy with the experience from a Footprints point of view. Furthermore, we travelled there by monorail which was running regardless of whether we were on it or not. We wanted to do so because it’s going to be disbanded. When we finished at the Tower we walked back to our apartment.

What I also found interesting about our trip in terms of entertainment was how much more we used our computers or watched TV in our apartment there. Since we weren’t working – either at work or around the house – when we were having down time at the apartment Husband and I sat on our devices plugged into Facebook. In all fairness, there were pictures of the children’s adventures being regularly uploaded. Nevertheless, the amount of device charging we did exceeded what we’d do at home. Oh dear.

Cheers.

In A Pickle

I've noticed over the past couple of months that the pickles I buy haven't been available. I didn't think that much about it. They're an Israeli brand, Eskal, and I figured that maybe they just weren't selling that well.

One of my friends posted on Facebook the other day that she was annoyed she could no longer get the same brand of pickles. She, however, had actively sought out places to buy them and found that they are being boycotted, presumably for political reasons.

I have no problem with boycotts whatsoever. This, however, reminds me of a scene from the 1980's movie, 'Crocodile Dundee' in which a mugger pulls a knife on the main character who responds by pulling out a much bigger knife and declaring, "That's not a knife. THIS is a knife." Boycotting a brand of Israeli pickles isn't a boycott. If the stores were really serious about human rights they'd be boycotting Nestle, Coca-Cola, L'Oreal and Proctor and Gamble. If they were really serious they'd be boycotting all goods made in China. THAT would be a boycott.

There have been calls for boycotts against all of the above-mentioned companies. According to the Ethical Consumer Guide, Nestle markets powdered baby formula in countries with unclean drinking water thus increasing infant mortality, use child labour, have a poor record on human rights and pollute. Coca-Cola has been criticised for the kidnapping, torture and murder of union leaders from their bottling plants in Colombia and has exposed local residents to polluted water in India which has resulted in shortages of drinking water. Let them drink coke, right? L'Oreal and Proctor and Gamble conduct painful and deadly tests on animals. Furthermore, L'Oreal is partly owned by Nestle anyway.

If the products of any or all of those companies were removed supermarkets shelves it would have a much greater economic impact than just removing a few cans of pickles. So, how serious are they really about human rights?

I understand that it's not about the brand, Eskal, who haven't been implicated in any human rights violations; it's about the country of origin of the brand and the perceived track record of that country. Okay, let's talk about China, shall we? Removing items made in China from supermarket shelves wouldn't have as big an impact as removing Nestle and Coca-Cola. Remember, however, that Coles is just one of the stores in the Wesfarmers group. What if Target and K-Mart removed items made in China? I guess the stores would be completely empty. The same goes for the Woolworths group in relation to Big W. Since industry in China is government owned a boycott against items made there might have a bigger impact than removing Eskal pickles.

Until the stores boycotting Eskal pickles show they're serious about human rights across the board I wouldn't call this a boycott, I'd call it anti-Israeli tokenism.