Mandahla Rose

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@anotherarrowinthequiver
Mandahla Rose
I am Mandahla Rose. I’m an actor from Adelaide and I have something to share with you.
All About E is a low budget feature film that I just so happen to be the lead in. The film premiered in Sydney in March and has just been accepted for not one, but two screenings in the Frameline Film Festival (San Francisco).
Frameline is the world’s largest LGBTQ film festival and All About E will be screening at the world famous Castro Theatre which seats 1200 people.
Being an actor is not as glamourous as it may seem. Being a low budget film, we are unable to have our costs covered so that we can attend Frameline. This is where I call upon you, the people, to help me make this once in a lifetime opportunity a reality.
Attending Frameline would be a huge international networking opportunity for me as an actor.
I am hoping for Frameline to be a catalyst for amazing things to come and in that, I hope to be able to pay it forward to others in need in the future.
All I am asking for is for my immediate travel costs are covered by you kind people.
Should this campaign be successful, I invite you to join me on my travels on Facebook, where I will keep you up to date with my time in the US.
Thank you for your time, Mandahla Rose
Here is my GO FUND ME page…
http://www.gofundme.com/v3kfpjg
My feature film will have its Australian Red Carpet premiere at Sydney's Mardi Gras on February 21st. Here is the trailer.
This is my big brother. His name is Raymond and he is 18 months older than me. He is my hero and I love and adore him. Raymond saved my life. But unfortunately, I couldn’t save his. Today marks the 6th year since my hero killed himself. I say this not to gain sympathy for the loss of my brother. I say this to make you aware that mental health is an issue. Every day it is the breath that forces a life to become extinguished. Do not judge people for their struggles. Be there. Support them. Life is beautiful.
Photography by the wonderful Brent Leideritz
Photography by the wonderful Brent Leideritz.
Travelling in Bikaner, Rajasthan
I fell in love with this dog while filming All About E.
Ignoring your passion is slow suicide. Never ignore what your heart pumps for. Mold your career around your lifestyle not your lifestyle around your career.
(via thaihaha)
Om Mani Padme Hum
What is it?- Om mani padme hum is a ancient six syllable Sanskrit mantra.
What does it mean?- Each syllable represents something different and by chanting the mantra it helps cleanse you of the syllables antonym.
Om- Om means generosity, this cleanses pride and ego.
Ma- Ethics, purifies jealousy and lust for entertainment.
Ni- Patience, cleanses you of passion and desire.
Pad- Pad is diligence, this eradicates ignorance and prejudice.
Me- Renunciation of greed and possessiveness.
Hum- Wisdom, removal of anger and hatred.
THE HOLIEST OF CITIES
Today was perhaps one of the most confronting days that I have faced since setting off for India over 5 weeks ago. I am currently in Varanasi, the holiest of cities in India. For thousands of years, people have been bringing the bodies of their dead to be cremated and then have the bones dropped into the Ganges. People bring the dead from all over India. Some have been dead for days, you can smell it. Thousands of years. Ritualistic. Incredibly intense. Incredibly sad. And from an outsiders point of view... Confronting. Today, I stood in the stairway of the northern Ghat. I watched as 8 bodies passed me in the hour that I stood there. Four members of the family carried the bodies that were placed on a bound ladder made of bamboo. They were wrapped in linen and had brightly coloured cloth over them. Strings of flowers covered this once breathing human creature. The chanting from the family echoed through the laneway asking their God to take the soul to Nirvana (In Hindu belief, the attainment of nirvana is moksha, liberation from the repeating cycle of birth, life and death. They believe that if the person has done good, has good Karma, then they will not come back again). I watched as they immersed the body into the water. Other family members carried big piles of wood and stacked them near another pyre that was already burning. And as I watched, a boy stuck a long piece of wood into the pyre and turned it over. I watched as a head fell out of the pyre. Charred and smoking. He picked it up and put it back. On another, I could see legs. Toes curling. Skin melting off the bones. The ashes swirling in the wind. I had to shield my eyes from the heat. My eyes stung from the smoke. I felt warm tears being soaked up by my scarf. I smelt the acrid burning of flesh. I watched as an old, bent over man was taken down to the river near the bodies. His son held his hand as he bathed himself in the river. He walked out and I knew that he was getting ready for his final days on this earth, he knew that this would be the way that he would travel to his God. And he accepted it. He wanted it. It's difficult really to explain what I felt, or even what thoughts went through my head. Thousands of years this has been happening. I walked away from the cremation ghat in complete silence. I looked down at my body and I was covered in ash. Tears streamed down my face and down the face of my friend. And we walked together, down the dark alleyway in silence. Neither of us knowing what to say. Both of us feeling incredibly spiritual. And as we walked back to the street, more bodies passed us, chanting for Nirvana, covered in silks and flowers. This is their life. This is their history. Every Hindu wants to be scattered into the Ganges.
HINDSIGHT...NOT A BITCH TODAY Everyone knows the phrase "hindsight is a bitch"... Today I almost made a decision that could have potentially made me look back on that phrase in disgust. India is great. And it's wonderful and well actually... It's not. I have been here for 26 days and it's hard. It's heartbreaking. Crushing. Devastating and no words can ever explain what I have seen every day. No photos. Nothing. You need to see it. Smell it. Feel it. Taste it. Touch it. All five senses are needed to get even an idea of what India might be like and even then, you need to live it. Dogs are everywhere and they all have mange, scabies, broken legs. Cows wander the streets eating anything that thy can get, including plastic. Children see you and they run at you putting their hands to their mouth and looking at you with big brown eyes wanting money. Begging for anything. And you can't give it to them because it will mean that they will continue to live that way. There is rubbish everywhere. Like, everywhere. Alleyways full of rubbish. Stagnant pools of piss, water and rubbish. Pigs living in these pools, feeding off the rubbish. You wander past a stall and people try and get you to buy whatever you were looking at. Most of the tourists you see, wander the streets with a look of absolute stun on their faces. Shock. Fear. It's terrifying how a place can be so different to our own. And I am terrified. I am scared. Because it is different. It is scary. Because it's not home. Because I can't stand to see people living like this. I had 35 days left and I couldn't bare to stay here anymore. So I made the decision to go home early. Why not really? I slogged it out for a month. I have done well. I spoke to a Spanish tourist today and he said that 3 weeks was too long for him and he probably won't come back to India again. I'm homesick. I miss my girl (that rockstar on the bass) I want my girl. I want my bed. My shower. My friends. My stuff. So I told my travel buddy, Steven, that this was it. I'm done. He started to book the tickets and I called my girl up because I was excited to be going home. To be in her arms. That's all that I could think about. Her. And I started to realise, while talking to her, that I was sad to leave India. I started loving it today. Speaking to people. Smiling at them. Having fun with the kids. Realising that I liked the hustle. I didn't mind the stench, I was used to it. I loved seeing the cows walking up the street and I found myself gently touching them as I walked past. I loved bartering with the tuktuk drivers about a price. Today, I was told that I looked Indian. Well, I have always been told that it looked Indian. I have always hated the thought. For some reason, I never wanted to be Indian. I wanted to be anything else but. I have no idea what my nationality is. But today, after what I have seen, the history of India, seeing the Taj Mahal, the Red Forte in Agra, the pink city of Jaipur in Rajasthan; I felt honoured that I could potentially, have this history, this past running through my veins. I don't want to leave yet. And then Steven suggested a negotiation. Instead of going home in 35 days. Let's go home in 25. 50 day in total away from home. And there was something in me that was glad. When I am scared of something, I usually run. Most of us do. It takes a lot of courage to stand and face our fears. I wanted to run home. Desperately. Get away from everything. The dust, the heat, the smells, the people. Today, I took a big step. I decided to stay. Another 24 days left. I'm not that scared little girl anymore. I am strong-willed and determined. I know that when I get home, I will be a worthy person. I am already a worthy person. Yes, it means waiting 24 days to see my girl. And that's hard. Not just for me but especially for her. I get it. Life sometimes has unexpected turns. But it's up to us to see them. I see the people in India living the way they live, they have so little, much less than me, and yet they smile. They accept what they have been given and they are happy. I feel much changing within these walls of myself and I feel happy. I am becoming the person that I crave to be. I can say that I am proud of who I am today. Very proud.
The beautiful waterfall and forest with 20 odd mushroom species. The waterfall is the home of a goddess. And yes, I am carrying a machete.
Having been in India for only 7 days, I realise how quickly I adjust. You learn not to put your hands anywhere near your mouth or eyes, you have to brush your teeth with bottled water and rinse your toothbrush with bottled water. To have a shower, I squat down in the corner under a tap and allow my body to be soaked in cold water. And then you lather yourself up with soap and then rinse the same way. The first time I did that, I felt like such an animal. Now, it seems natural. I have yet to use a squat toilet. And to be completely honest, I have a phobia about using any form of public toilet, so I find myself drinking very little water while walking about to avoid any of the public toilets. Especially because when I say public toilet, I mean a bricked building that has a trench that you squat into and everyone can see you [pic above]. And it smells terrible as it is an open sewer. I have hardly eaten. Not because I don't want to but because I'm actually not hungry. But also, when you see what the locals do with their hands and then you watch them make your food, you might not want to eat it either. Today I have eaten a piece of naan bread and about 5 cups of masala chai. But I feel full. Perhaps it's the heat. I am now in Vashisht. Right up in the mountains. In fact, the place we are staying at is about a 40 minute walk up a very steep hill. And there are no roads to get to this place. So you actually have to trek through the mountains. Over a tiny bridge that crosses a waterfall and up, up into the Himalayas, 2487 meters above sea level. Half way up the climb, I found a little ganja plant, I couldn't believe it at first, but then I bent close to have a smell. Definitely marijuana! It was amazing when we stumbled into a first house that was home to a German lad. And surrounding his home was a whole crop of wildly growing ganja. Another 10 minute trek straight up the mountain and I am in a home surrounded by 3 waterfalls, the snow-capped mountains and all sorts of animals. The next few days are going to be absolutely amazing. Finding nature, using a machete to cut down nettles, finding waterfalls, avoiding the viper that lives close by, maybe meeting some wild bears and staying clear. It's rather humbling when you find that you have been given an experience like this. I remember studying the Himalayan Mountains as a kid and finding myself dreaming of going there. I am currently surrounded by the beautiful mountains and I am bewildered. Life is great.
THE ELEVEN HOUR BUS RIDE TO MANALI. Imagine a bus. And it’s probably a bus from the 1970’s. The racks are on the roof. Now imagine the Indian taxi drivers in Adelaide… But much much worse. Honking of horns. Dirt roads. Holes in the roads and roads that are narrow, only just wide enough to fit two cars alongside each other. But then, throw in cows and bulls, dogs, monkeys all along the side of the road. And then imagine your bus driver taking over other buses along a blind corner and there is no railing to stop a car from falling off the edge. I actually feared for my life at one point. Well, quite a number of times.
I am in the Himalayan Mountains. Not many people can say that they have seen the snow capped mountains of the Himalayas. I am one very lucky individual.
As you start to climb the mountains, not only do you notice that it is a bit cooler, the at is cleaner but the houses dart to change and the people start to look different. It’s much more relaxed. And beautiful. Wherever you look are tall mountains. Beautiful mountains.
Manali itself is covered in stray dogs. Goats. Mules. Horses. Different cultures and amazing temples.
As to traveling itself… I am fast losing weight, and becoming browner as the sun is getting hotter. And I miss home dreadfully. Next stop after staying in Vashisht for the next three nights will be Shimla. Another bus ride. But this time only 6-8 hours.
CHANDIGARH
Yesterday, I caught a train to Chandigarh. It’s about a 4 hour train ride and there are different classes that you can go on. 1st class, 2nd class and the ‘common’ class. Both the 1st and 2nd classes are air conditioned. When you see India, you will understand what I mean when I say that I was surprised that the train was still in one piece. Most of everything you see in India is broken, falling apart, dented, smashed, half finished and rubbish everywhere.
The train ride was comfortable. There were chai wallahs walking up and down the aisles calling out “Chai! Chai!” And as I looked out the window, I saw the world change before me in a beautiful yet terrifying way. We left New Delhi and the Patel markets in Minurka that had become my home. I already started to miss the familiar mazed enclaves that I had wandered through for the past three days. And before me, the scenery changed. The broken down buildings of the city became less and instead there was a huge body of water that sat stagnant. Rubbish framed it all around… piles and piles of rubbish. Families lived near it under makeshift tents. And then the smell hit me… It was a stagnant, still lake of sewer. And this was their home. And I remember thinking to myself how there was a sign in the heart of New Delhi that surrounded a single tree like a fence and it said ‘keep Delhi pollution free’. I wanted to laugh at the irony. But instead, I found myself swallowing back tears that threatened to flow.
As I was sitting in the train, my friend Steven came back from the toilet and told me to quickly follow him, by this stage we had travelled into the green parts of india, where there were hive like bails of hay, the greenest grass that you could possibly imagine and everything smelt like freshly cut grass. I love that smell. Suddenly, I found myself on the platform that joins two carriages together. I grabbed the railings with two hands and carefully looked out through the gap. I was actually outside and the world was rushing by so quickly that my heart soared. From excitement but also from pure adrenaline at the thought that I could slip and fall onto the tracks at any moment.
The toilets on the train are pretty much a hole in the ground that you squat over and then you just watch your excrement fall into the passing tracks below you. I didn’t go anywhere near the toilets.
We stopped at one stop before Chandigarh and we were berthed there for about a half hour. People come in with food to buy, chai etc. But as I looked out the window, not only could I see that the platform was littered in shit, actual shit, but a man stood there, his pants tattered and ripped, taking a piss over the edge directly infront of me. Beggars crawled on hands and feet down the aisle of the train begging for money.
Imagine if you were a chip from the fish and chip shop and you happened to walk off the train at the Chandigarh station… All the seagulls would fly at you and try to get to you first. Every single seagull. Well that is exactly what it felt like when we arrived at the station. It was scary and confronting. But after finding our tuktuk driver, we set off to what was going to be our home for the next two nights. The pictures above is the home that we are staying at. And around this building and others like it are little tents and slum houses. But the most exciting thing that live next door to this house are king cobras. We have been warned not to venture near the area. But I want to see a cobra.
Meanwhile, after opening myself and admitting something that has been a huge problem for me, it is sad to see that some people have chosen to say some nasty words to me and deleted me off Facebook. That’s fine. I dont need that negativity in my life. But for those that have messaged me positively, I thank you.
Life has a way of changing people. Sometimes you can be scared of the change and refuse to go with it. But if you decide to go down that path of change, it might be scary. But it also might just be the best thing that you have ever done.