Category: Arts & Life

By Sharon Muli

Contributing Writer

On my first day in Australia, I decided Australians must not really speak English.  As our international orientation leader spoke to our group on the bus moments after we got off the plane in Melbourne, I glanced at the other Americans near me and noticed their generally confused faces.  Most of us understood about half the words she said.  At the end of my four-and-a-half-month semester, I asked a friend sitting next to me on the plane ride home whether the flight attendant had just spoken in an American or an Australian accent.  She thought for a second and said, “Australian?”  She was right, but it made us both realize how much we had changed since our first day in the country.

Last semester, I spent my time studying and immersing myself in the culture of Townsville, Australia at James Cook University.  Although it’s about the size of the continental United States, Australia’s population is little more than three times that of New York City.  The tropical city of Townsville is on Australia’s northeast coast, adjacent to the Great Barrier Reef and near the rainforest.  Here, I made my home on the first floor at University Hall on JCU’s campus, among mostly Australians and a mix of international students, and always within earshot of Aussie accents, techno music and the birds in the palm trees beyond my balcony.

On my trip, I dove near the Great Barrier Reef, held a koala, sampled new foods and spotted wild kangaroos.  These were great adventures, but it was the simplest things that surprised me most.  I never ceased being fascinated by the wildlife. The first day in my dorm, I walked into the bathroom and was shocked when I saw a gecko running across the ceiling. In town later that month, I passed a tree full of squawking rainbow lorikeets. While camping, we saw pesky bush turkeys and giant lizards called goannas.  During class field trips, I went snorkeling on an island to identify reef fish, and “in the bush” I helped survey frogs, lizards, snakes and other vertebrates.

Simple cultural differences were always interesting to observe.  While eating in my dorm’s cafeteria, I spent countless dinners explaining the appeal of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Reese’s candy, apples with peanut butter or caramel and how to make s’mores.  The Australians I lived with in turn explained the apparently acquired taste of Vegemite on toast, as well as the many ways to make Milo and expressed their shock that anyone lived in a place without Tim Tams (delicious chocolate covered cookies).  We talked about differences in the school systems, the different styles of dancing, the time malls close and the “no worries” attitude of Australians.  Before this experience, I never really realized the range of cultural differences between Americans and Australians.

Initially, I defended my American background and believed all the things I had grown up doing were “normal.”  I thought driving on the right side of the road was natural and a squirrel-infested campus was the way it was, even if it wasn’t especially desirable.  Soon, I started to embrace the Australian culture, trying to use the word “uni” instead of “college,” becoming accustomed to turning the lock the opposite way to unlock doors and attempting to remember that the right side of the car is the driver’s side.  When I came back to campus, I told all my friends the wonderful things I learned in Australia.  I tried to teach them how to use the words “keen” and “arvo” (afternoon) in a sentence (Are you keen to go to the beach this arvo?), and I explained the differences in their music and television shows. I explained that, despite the venomous snakes, deadly stingers (jellyfish), vicious crocodiles and other frightening animals living in Australia, I made it home safely and would definitely go back.

Australia taught me so many things about following my dreams, trying new things and making the most of every experience.  I know the things I learned studying abroad could not have been told to me, but only learned through experience.  I will always remember the time I spent in the “land down under” and I’m heaps keen for another adventure.

By Katie Monigan

Arts & Life Editor

For Family Weekend, improvisational comedy troupe We Brake for Nobody performed twice last Saturday, once in the Elaine Langone Center Forum and once in Trout Auditorium.

The show began with three videos of skits the members prepared beforehand. The last video introduced their three new members: Ben Rees ’14, Julian Fleming ’14 and Meg Visokey ’13, who all joined in September. They then played a series of games that incorporated audience suggestions.

The final game was called “Innuendos.” All the troupe members stand in a line and the audience suggests an object or occupation, and each member steps out, one at a time, and says, “I like my men like I like my blank,” and then justifies their answer. Since members are not forced to offer an answer for every audience suggestion, this fast-paced game is more amusing than it sounds. The show consisted of about 10 games, and every game triggered significant laughter from the crowd.

We Brake for Nobody was founded in 1998 by Ben Wellington, who then went on to start a troupe at NYU called Dangerbox. We Brake consists of 11 members, two of which are women.

“Men have historically had more power and influence, which makes it easier and funnier for them to be vulnerable on stage. Women, however, not only have to be funny, they have to combat the subconscious and societal structure that has been around since a society of people was a thing,” Sam Nelsen ’11 said.

Their two women are up to the challenge.

“Meg [Visokey] and Ali Keller [’12] represent the females in our troupe and are extremely hilarious,” Nelsen said.

Nelsen explained that the troupe members are generally minimally experienced in “improv,” if at all and just “tend to be naturally funny.” They do practice twice a week for an hour and a half, and more recently have been learning “long form improv” from a group from Chicago called Charles Grodin that includes We Brake alum Lars Weborg ’06. Long form is more like an improvised play, rather than individual games.

According to Jack Wiles ’12, practices are more frequently “very unstructured and basically time for us to get to know each other’s senses of humor. We also like to get a little more crude in practice compared to our shows.”

He says this is because it’s more challenging to not be crude, but also because there are frequently parents and small children in their audiences.

“We don’t use [practice] time to plan out what we are going to say or do, we use it to become better and more comfortable with making scenes work. We have to practice creating character, living in circumstances and other aspects of improv that help us fit the form,” Nelsen said.

Judging by the crowd at the 4:00 p.m. Trout Auditorium show, there is plenty of enthusiasm on campus for We Brake. Expect to see continued growth from John “One Hit Wonder” Pikowski ’13, Jasper “Banana Cat” Young ’12, Meg “Pie Kill” Visokey, Jack “JR” Wiles and the rest of the We Brake members.

By Jessica Rafalko

Writer

Rap artist Sam Adams says he doesn’t get stage fright—which is fortunate, considering the crowd of students that flocked to Sojka Lawn see his performance at Fall Fest on Saturday, Sept. 25. “It’s the best part of the day, to actually do your show,” Adams said.

The final performer of the day, Adams took the stage at 6:00 p.m., after a brief performance by G. Curtis. Adams encouraged the crowd to move even closer to the stage and to “make some noise.” Not one to disappoint an eager audience, Adams delivered a performance that begged two encores from the crowd. They chanted “Sammy,” urging him back onstage.

Fall Fest is organized each year through Activities and Campus Events (ACE) and the University’s Campus Activities and Programs (CAP) Center.“The CAP office is the car, but ACE is the wheels,” said Dorsey Spencer, assistant director of CAP.

ACE was responsible for choosing this year’s musical act and setting up the day of the event.

This year’s theme was “Bucknell Goes Green.” There were lines of garbage and recycling cans on the lawn. One group was for biodegradable trash, the other for compostable food.

ACE members also manned a number of stations at the event. Some sat at a table handing out free water bottles. Others watched over the tie-dye T-shirt and customized Frisbee stations. There were inflatable jousting pits, obstacle courses and a dunk tank.

Some student organizations, including the environmental club and the Bucknell Professional Network (BPN) also had stands. Justin Brodie-Kommit ’12, head of the BPN, sees Fall Fest as the perfect opportunity for a number of campus organizations to connect with students.

“We’re just trying to let the community know that we’re here on campus,” he said.

Fall Fest encouraged networking and socializing with its open and friendly atmosphere. Students played catch and Frisbee on Sojka lawn. Some people brought children and pets. As student musicians performed, people sat on the grass to listen.

Brian Brundage ’11 played a solo set before joining the Body Electric (Nick Horner ’11, Seth Chizeck ’11, and Alex Apfel ’12) for their set.

After a barbecue-style dinner prepared by the Bostwick staff, DJ Doug Bogan ’13 took the stage. He invited Darren Harris ’13 to rap for the audience. A number of students crowded around the front of the stage, growing more enthusiastic as Adams’ performance drew closer.

The first non-student act, Na Palm, offered a personalized, energetic performance, further riling the crowd. At one point, they described Fall Fest as “a mini … Woodstock.” This seemed a fair comparison in terms of the atmosphere of the event—though the musical offerings at Fall Fest may have differed a bit from performers like Jimi Hendrix. The enthusiasm of the crowd powered the event and crescendoed during Adams’s high-spirited and engaging closing performance.