"Texas" the Movie

My college roommate is now an actress in L.A! She has a part in a short film that will be competing this fall in a couple film festivals and I was lucky enough to be granted an early screening. Here's a little review of the film...please help me cheer her and her team on!! 

"A cowboy meets his estranged wife on the Texas/Oklahoma border and tries to win her back...one problem, neither will cross state lines!"

Texas (2013)

Director: Matt Johnson

Cast: Chuck Houston, Zachary Barton, Alexander Roberts, Laura Elizabeth Hall, Max Bunzel, and Bee Hudgins

If you're a Texan...if you've ever lived in Texas...or if you've ever just met a Texan...you know--they display certain notable characteristics. Among these is an intense, undying love for their state and an ability to be super-humanly stubborn. Matt Johnson captures these lovable aspects of Texas culture--and more--in short film that will warm your heart (no matter where you're from). 

Clad in a Texas flag dress shirt, Denny (Chuck Houston) has finally tracked his ex-wife down after her ten year absence and they meet at the Texas/Oklahoma State Border. Denny claims he wants his wife back, and we can see that while Doris Ray (Zachary Barton) is conflicted, a part of her wants that too. Denny pulls out all the stops--sincerely explaining how he's changed, pulling out an old picture reel of their young love memories (and launching a very sweet little flashback), temping Doris with her Tex-Mex favorites and a Shiner Bock--he does everything except cross over to Oklahoma and embrace his lost love. The border symbolizes that there's something holding both of them back...and I found it incredibly relatable. At times you want to judge Doris Ray for picking up and leaving, but you understand. She's questioning if the pain she endured before will be repeated...if she's still in love or if it's simply that she's yearning for the familiar. And if the flame of love is still there...is that going to be enough?

A final showdown between exes.

Chuck Houston is utterly perfect in the role of Denny. From his first charming smirk to his deep southern drawl during those more sincere moments, you want to simultaneously roll your eyes and fall in love with him. He's annoyingly like every Texas man I've ever met. Zachary Barton is an equally brilliant match as our modern "Southern Bell," her snappy comments, red boots, and her ability to make puns about her "Lone Star State" witty and cute make Doris Ray fabulously likable. 

Chuch Houston as "Denny."

Zachary Barton as "Doris Ray."

The dueling exes pull out the big guns for a surprising conclusion, and the audience realizes that the hurt between these people runs very deep. You're caught rooting for the hope that there are certain things in life that will bring us back together despite everything; love, family, and of course, Texas.

"Texas" will play at the Vancouver International Film Festival and Louisville's Festival of Film. 

OFFICIAL PAGES

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TexasTheMovie

Twitter: https://twitter.com/texasthemovie

Trailer: http://vimeo.com/63475909

Dream Job

Ok so don't laugh!

My friend directed me to Juantaroo, a company in search of hiring a "World Traveler," to go around the world for a year and blog about it.

You have to make a short video about yourself and why you would be successful at the job.

I have never made a real video before, but it seems like it's the new thing for overseas jobs and interviews so perhaps it's something I should work on.

Anyway, the due date was today, so I scrambled to put something decent together after all the traveling. My lack of video skills is pretty apparent but hopefully it will be good enough to get me into round two of selection!

This is where I need to ask you for a favor. The number of "likes" on my video apparently has some significance to the judges. Please, if you don't mind, click on this link (or the one below) to my video. There's no annoying registration or anything.

You can even vote every 24 hours!

I know there's a billion other candidates out there and the chances are slim. But who knows, maybe things could just fall into place.

I know crazier things have happened!

http://www.bestjobaroundtheworld.com/submissions/view/15386

Impressions of Madagascar. Part 4: The Turning Point, and Love.

In the afternoon, we gathered our nerves and walked to the closest village. When we finally approached the main street, all eyes were on us. I mean ALL eyes. The entire town was just staring, it was the strangest feeling...like you're having that nightmare where you're naked on stage. We slowly continued down the street...not really trying to make eye contact, and softly saying "salama" (hello) to kids we passed. I wanted to crawl in a hole and just hide. Wearing my skin like it was a billboard for shame and apology, I glanced up quickly and saw some kids at the end of the street playing basketball. I suggested we sit on a nearby bench, wanting desperately to disappear and somehow blend in for a second.

Suddenly, two little giggling kids sat at the other end of the bench and stared. We smiled and said "salama," they laughed some more and replied. They got braver and braver, and soon the little girl came over to touch my blonde hair. I looked into her smiling eyes and felt my defensive barrier start to crumble. I could feel the town watching us, but I didn't dare look over. I just kept my gaze on these laughing little kids because they were making us laugh too. I love that laughter is the same all over the world. 

(Photo by Elena)

Just then, a skinny older boy plopped right down in between Elena and I, putting his arms around us, clearly here on a dare. What a brave little kid. He looked over at the basketball court...all his friends were holding their breath...A beat. 

And then... Elena and I laugh. Suddenly, the tension and the barriers and the guilt and the fear completely just explode into nothing, and all kids everywhere swarm us!! They are petting our heads and we're giving them high fives, blowing kisses and one little boy is even trying to speak to me in English!! They want their pictures taken, they are posing, laughing. They want to see the pictures. They think this is just hilarious!! More posing, more showing, more laughter. We do this for maybe 30 minutes...just playing and laughing and talking together. All the adults nearby have huge grins on their faces.

(Photo by Elena )

(Photo by Elena )

When it was time to leave, we blew kisses and waved goodbye. The kids seemed just to just glow from happiness. We returned down the main street with our heads held high...with a new sense of respect and confidence, and just...love. This time, there wasn't any whispering or staring, but smiles and "salama!"

(Photo by Elena)

(Photo by Elena)

This one moment changed everything for me. I no longer felt pity for these people, or the heaviness of guilt for where I came from. I felt a unity between all of us, a beautiful ray of hope for the world. It gives me chills to remember it even now.

On the drive back to Morondava, I did a lot of thinking. I realized that I went into this with an attitude of "you're poor and I feel sorry for you," and ended up with "you simply live differently, and with a lot less than I do." Madagascar isn't sad, or scary. What's sad to me is hearing kids in our modern world with their T.V.s, video games, books, toys, iphones, and ipads complaining all the time of how bored they are...while kids in Madagascar are having the time of their lives with rocks tied to plastic bags, mango pits, and old tires. What's scary to me are the steroids in our food and how differences in politics and religion give some people the self-imposed permission to become violent or to just give up on the world. The people I met in Madagascar might not have as much as we do, but I would venture to say that they are a extensively happier than a lot of us. They eat better, they play better, they know each other more. They don't care about politics (our guide said that in these villages, no one votes, knows, nor cares about the political crap going on in the capital. There are no newspapers or televisions, so the only way they hear about anything is from tourists or the drivers.) They just live their lives...completely in the moment.

I'm not saying that we need to feel ashamed for what we have, or that we all need to close our facebook accounts and live on farms. It's much easier to live with less when you are in a society that lives with less. We live a different kind of life, and that's okay too. I guess the message I'd like to pass on is that we have nothing to worry about. All those things we stress over and fear and think might be the end of the world...there's always more. There's always hope. I've seen it. Right now the world is changing. We have so much uncertainty and fear and I just want you to know that happiness and love can be found anywhere there is life. Even where you least expect it. If you don't believe me, I challenge you to travel around a little bit. Just promise me one thing. Learn from my mistakes...when you go, go with an open heart and a desire to find things to love. Fear always gets us nowhere.

"Baobab Amoureux" Baobabs in Love <3

Impressions of Madagascar. Part 3: Beauty

We didn't sleep very well that night, because something inside our room was making quite a stir. Every time we got out of bed and searched for our little friend, we couldn't find him. Elena's only words of advice before we finally gave up: "don't worry, it's probably something cute!" The next morning, I woke up to find my beef jerky--still in my backpack--shred apart, and a little tiny thank you note from the local mouse. Ok so he didn't leave a note, but I'm sure he enjoyed his meal.

We met our guide early and headed to the Grand Tsingy--the Big Stone Forest, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. He informed us that the Tsingy are considered a site of respect and they have important significance to the Malagasy and their ancestors, so we were not to point fingers at anything, but instead point with the index finger half bent.

Climbing the Grand Tsingy is the most physically challenging thing I've done in my life so far. The guide handed us some rock climbing gear, flashlights, and off we went through the forest. We squeezed through tiny tunnels. We crawled through dark, dense caves. We climbed and we climbed and we climbed. I have this pretty intense fear of heights, and sometimes I got so scared, I was at that limit in my head where I could honestly not make myself take one more step forward. But...they were moving on ahead and I didn't have any choice. It was too late to turn back now, anyway. I was constantly whispering positive affirmations to myself and sometimes my brain still hesitated to do a "right foot forward" as instructed.

(Photo by Elena)

 When we reached the top, it was all worth it...

...until we got to this trembling bridge high above the ground, where I almost decided I would have to just live here forever because there was no way I was getting on that thing. But ok, so I took a deep breath, held it the entire time, and never looked down. 

(Photo by Elena )

Going down was not nearly so dramatic, and we ended the trip walking through a little forest where we encountered some incredibly rare birds, unique and beautiful trees, and a couple little lemurs.

The forest was INCREDIBLE. It is completely filled with vibrating life and energy. All of the coos and whistles and hums and chirps were so different...exciting and utterly new. The trees had this odd way of wrapping around each other like serpents, and sometimes a plant would vine it's way all the way up and attach like a pulsing vein. Some trees were blotched in a tie-dye fashion and others were a strange deep chocolate brown color.

Our guide pointed out an ant hill with a big hole in the middle of it. The ants surrounding it were large and black, and they were all carrying pieces of food into the hole. "This means there is a snake inside the hole," our guide said. Little snakes will crawl into the holes, and the aunts will bring them food all summer. When summer is over, the snake is too fat to leave the hole...the ants bury it...and the snake dies. Boom. The ants have food for the entire winter. Creepy murderous ants.

The next morning was my favorite part of the trip. We woke up super early to catch the morning light, and met up with our guide. He took us to the river and to an old Malagasy man on a canoe that he built out of a hollowed out tree. This guy was hilarious!! He didn't speak much French, but he would mumble a few words of it to us and then just laugh and laugh. He reminded me of Rafiki from the Lion King. Just laughing away...

(Photo by Elena )

We pulled up next to a grotto. "Vas-y, Vazaha!! Hahhaha!!! (go on, white girls!) " Rafiki joked. 

The grotto is just incredible. We met some bats and coves of their babies, nocturnal butterflies the size of baseballs, and giant cockroaches that village healers use to cure tetanus ("you stew them and drink," according to our guide..."very effective," he says.)

On the way out, a couple very loud, strange birds were screeching at us as we passed by. "Salut vazaha! ah haha!! Salut!" Rafiki translated for them.

We spent the rest of the morning at the little Tsingy...but after yesterday, the little Tsingy was less impressive. Here is a sloppy video I made of it because I have no video making skills yet but I want some.

Impressions of Madagascar. Part 2: Guilt

In the morning, we had to see Antananarivo in the light, which was just as unflattering as it was in the dark.

We hopped in the airport shuttle and we were off. I was immediately shocked by the amount of people everywhere. Thousands and thousands of people flooded the streets. As I think about it just now, I realize this must be what every rush hour in the world would look like if you remove cars from the scenario. People in zebu-drawn carts. People in people-drawn carts. People carrying amazing things on their head. Seriously, I can't balance a book on my head, let alone an old tire. (!) Giant buckets of milk. Three boxes of clothes. Long sticks of bamboo. There was no limit to the things people could balance on their heads.

It seemed like our taxi driver was worried about getting us to the airport in time, because he was weaving in between cars like he was fleeing from the cops. There was one lane for going and one lane for coming, and we were in between the two. Apparently, it's ok to drive in the middle of everything if you just constantly beep your horn to let everyone know you're coming through. Almost on cue, a police officer pulls up behind us, sirens blazing and lights flashing. My heart stops, and we get over to the "going" side. Instead of stopping us, the police car just takes our place in the middle and speeds up, bypassing everyone. Our driver seized the opportunity and fell in behind the cop car. And that's how we arrived at the airport in record time by police escort.

When we landed in Morondava, things were instantly a thousand times better. People were smiling! They were helpful! And most importantly, they left us alone. Our hotel, Chez Maggie, was super cute, with a beach on the Mozambique Channel. The hotel uses only their fresh catches from the morning for their menu (there are no refrigerators or freezers of course) and everything was insanely cheap. We started with the jumbo shrimp for lunch...

our bungalow Chez Maggie

anti-malaria beds! woohoo

So...I've never had fresh shrimp before and it kind of changed my life. Also, this meal cost us about 10 dollars each. 

After lunch, we explored Morondava.

I found the beach goats to be a very hilarious welcoming committee. 

These kids invented a game with plastic bags tied to rocks and raced them in the wind.

unusual shuttle service

At night we had crab dinner and massages. That's when the guilt started. 

I couldn't help it. The massage was in our room. We were late because we were thoroughly enjoying our fresh crab dinner that cost 8 dollars. And the whole time, the little Malagasy woman was making so much of an effort on my massage that it left her out of breath at the end. I just felt like such an asshole. I mean, I come here to your poor country, live like a Queen, and pay nothing for it...and you're wearing dirty clothes and rubbing tourist bodies and making less in a year than anyone I know does in a week. I felt so guilty by the end of the massage that I gave her a 100% tip, and the whole thing still only cost 20 euro. 

This guilt did not go away. It only festered...infecting me more and more every day...driving me crazy (and probably annoying Elena more than a little bit)...until the Turning Point. But I'll get to that later. 

The next day we were up bright and early for our loooong drive to Bekopaka. The drive was in a 4x4 and the road was definitely not easy. I imagine it could be likened to riding an angry bull, or a bucking bronco for 8 hours. By the end, we were covered in red dust and sweat. 

I'm assuming that the only cars that go by are mostly tourists. Every time we would pass a small village, everyone would turn and stare and all the children would run out to wave to us. "Vazaha" (sounds like vazzah) is their nickname for white people, and we heard it every five seconds. "Salut (hi!) Vazaha!!" "Vazaha, money?" "Vazaha, bonbons? (candy?)" (BTW French is the second official language in Madagascar so many of them speak it...much less when you get into the country.) 

Here's some pics from the road trip:

as soon as they see cameras, they flock to photo bomb you.

we crossed two rivers like this...
the other cars are all other tourists like us...
except we felt proud to see we were the only girls brave enough to make Madagascar a girl's trip!!!

Every time we stopped the car, we were immediately swarmed by children who wanted something. Money, water, my hat, a pen, soap. They just looked around at our stuff and asked for whatever they saw. The guilt was gnawing at me more and more each time. Elena was getting seriously turned off. The kids loved taking pictures, though, and as soon as they saw a camera, they posed like little fashion models. (How did they learn that?!)

We were so very conflicted. On one hand, they are so cute and such a big part of the feeling and life of this country that you want that picture...but on the other hand (especially after watching all the other tourists) you feel like it's cheap. Exploitative. As if you're just visiting the zoo. Especially in the villages with the adults, who are all staring you down. You don't want to disrespect anyone or cheapen their way of living, but you want to remember how very different it is here...

In the end we decided to restrain ourselves and were very discreet about the pictures we took and what we gave to the children. I was sad. It felt like I was building a defensive wall between myself and the life in Madagascar. Like our safari in South Africa: I will stay in my safe little car...and the wildness will stay out there...I will look but I will not touch, I will not engage...

At dusk, we arrived at our shockingly sweet hotel in Bekopaka called "Olympe de Bemaraha."

...to be continued