#only someone with really intimate knowledge of both niche communities can possibly write this so it has to be me

[spatheandspadix]

I need to write my Ecological Society of America/Concatenate Fest fanfiction eventually. The Nice, Academic, earth-toned-cargo-pants-and-sandals "ghost towns+PNW logging history" ESA meeting field trip collides with the crust mutants of Concatenate Fest deep in the woods and hijinks ensue. What happens next? Can anyone bring a stop to this madness?

[workingontravel]

It’s a bit of a love-hate relationship

(You can find a Swedish translation of this text here.)

I have often crossed routes with Gestalta Judd, who is one of the few in Europe who teaches bondage for a living. I wanted to speak to her because of her intimate knowledge of what has been coined as “rope nomadism”, which I think of as an interesting parallel to travelling for performing arts – but also because I was curious about how Brexit would affect her travel. Gestalta brought another subject to the table: her attempt to stay on the ground in 2019 for political reasons.

Gestalta Judd: My income is entirely based on doing rope, mostly teaching. I have to travel to teach – I wouldn’t make enough otherwise. What I usually do is a combination of workshops and performances, where the performances don’t really give much income. It’s really more of a break-even situation where I offset unpaid work with a paid job in the same place. This is how I usually manage to do creative things that I like, such as performing or photo and film.

I’ve been travelling for rope events since about 2014, but I was travelling quite a bit already before: for photographic modelling and stuff like that. So actually, I’ve been travelling my whole adult life. There is no clear pattern to how I travel, but I’ve been to most countries in Europe at some point. For a while, I did lots of trips to Prague in a row, and now I’ve done lots of trips to Norway. It’s similar for most teachers, I think. You teach what you have, and then you won’t come back to that particular area again until you have new content, or until the group has changed enough that there is new interest.

It was rope that made me go outside Europe; I’ve taught in Australia, for example. But I’ve never been to the States. One of the reasons is that I’m afraid of being turned away at the border and then both losing the payment for the job and not being reimbursed for the money I spent on the ticket. No one is ever going to get me a working visa to do anything considered adult. So, I’d have to go on a tourist visa and hope that they don’t google me, because Gestalta is a legal name and very uncommon. Even if I’d do something for free, if I’m there for an event that is making money, that’s already too much for the States. When I teach abroad, the travel is often calculated out of the workshop fee. This means that cheap flying and cheap buses are what generally allow this kind of teaching to happen. Since I get refunded and paid only if I show up, it’s lucky that I’ve never been too sick to go. If I had to cancel under those circumstances, it would be a trust thing. I think most organisers are decent people and would be able to discuss who was in a better financial position to cover the loss of the travelling cost. I bring as little as possible: my ropes, a bar of soap, my toothbrush, light clothes like leggings and stuff. If I’m going to a cold country, I try to take only one heavy outfit that I can wear over all my other clothes. Then I hope that I can borrow whatever else I need when I get there. While travelling, I try to sleep, or I take my headphones and just zone out completely for a while. If it’s a very long trip, I might try to do some writing, like workshop descriptions or such.

I would normally stay with one of the organisers or a student; whoever has a spare room or sofa. It’s very rare to get a hotel. It’s hard to afford that kind of thing. I often try to stay in places where there’s a kitchen and I can cook for myself and box it up to bring wherever I go. I’ve found that I get less tired when I’m eating what my body is used to, rather than having to rely on an unfamiliar diet. Every year for the last three years, I’ve been thinking that I will definitely stop travelling. But every year something new comes up. It’s a bit of a love-hate relationship. I absolutely can’t imagine what I would be doing if not rope. And I love doing it once I get there. But I’ve reached a point where the thought of travelling is actually horrible. And when I get home, I’m not really quite at home either, because I spend so little time there. I feel annoyed about the difficulty of putting down roots. The reason why I still want to continue is that I learn so much from the differences in how people construct their communities. I get to see rope from so many perspectives. And I have this familiarity with people globally, like they have become locals to me. There is no longer a strict divide between the teacher and the student like there used to be, when travelling teachers were less common. It’s more of an exchange now. It happens that I go to someone’s workshop and then the next day that person comes to my workshop. I used to feel more isolated. Being at a workshop in a room full of people talking about how great it is using this tool to connect with your partner, I sometimes had this strange sense of, “Oh but I’ve been travelling for so long I don’t really have any partners ’cause it’s impossible for me to sustain any meaningful connection with someone that I never see…” It was a bleak kind of feeling.

How much I travel varies greatly. At the heaviest, I could be flying twice a week, easily, and that could go on for months. At the lightest, I take months off and try not to go anywhere. If I do a big trip outside Europe, I try to earn enough to be able to rest when I come home. I have to be organised and hyper-focused when I work. If there’s too much going on outside what I’m focusing on, I start to forget things, and if I start to forget things, it’s over. Relationships at home just have to take a back seat. The times when I’ve been travelling the most, I either didn’t have any intense relationships or they broke up as a result of it. My long-term friends are used to sometimes not seeing or hearing from me for a while.

At the moment, I’m based in Leeds in the north of England. I just moved here a few months ago from Berlin. It was a bit of an accidental move. I thought I was just going to stay for the summer, partly to get an Irish passport in order to avoid getting my travelling opportunities limited by Brexit. We’re almost apathetic about Brexit now, just crossing our fingers for it not to happen, but I moved just in case. I thought I would hate living here. But I’ve been too busy to change my passport so I can’t leave yet, and also bizarrely I really love this slightly obscure town. We’ll see how long it continues.

As it happens, I’m fairly involved with the climate change movement in the UK – and I made a promise not to fly so much for 2019. In March, I did my first workshop outside UK for the year. For the first time in my international long-distance travelling, I decided that the workshop was paying enough for me to get the train. It’s my goal to continue doing that. Economically it will be interesting: I’ll have to look carefully at what jobs I can afford to take, or where I can make up for the extra cost. I’ve been justifying my way of travelling before by saying that I never fly for holidays, only for work. But it’s getting to a point where I feel that isn’t much of an excuse anymore. It’s not like I’m a surgeon saving lives. Not to say that my work lacks value, but it’s for pleasure whether it’s for me or for the people taking the workshop. The rope scene has lived through a very special time. Without really even thinking about it, we’ve been able to build friendships with people who don’t live in our country. It’s not like, “We’ll see each other in three years,” when you leave; it’s more of a casual “Yeah, see you soon.” It’s been a really short and unique time, and I don’t think it’s going to last unless we come up with some serious changes. This is sad, especially for a community that has such a niche interest. But if we’re doing something to make a change now, we are still making the choice. I think at the point where we’re forced into doing these changes, the survival of the rope community will be the least of our worries.

It’s time to start thinking collectively about what we can do as a community. There is no reason why every single person individually flies in for a big rope event when you have twenty people coming from Sweden and twenty people coming from Spain. I know it’s annoying to get a bus, but if they could share it, that would be very affordable. Yes, it would take an extra twenty hours of their time and they would be uncomfortable, and it would require central organising and someone actually taking charge, but maybe it’s the sort of thing that we need to consider now. Also, if people start to be a little bit more strict with what they allow themselves to do, then maybe train companies, bus companies and other alternatives to flying will have to catch up and make both prices and information more accessible. However, to truly make a shift in how people travel, the government needs to incentivise better transport options. Either air fares are too cheap or train fares are too expensive. They need to be swapped. Within the UK, train fares are obscenely expensive. I’m more or less cut off for economic reasons from travelling with train. For example, instead of travelling two hours from Leeds to London, I take a bus for six hours. I don’t really mind being stuck there, but the longer I travel, the more exhausting it will become. It’s not really a sacrifice for me at the moment to take three days out of my schedule to do a weekend workshop. But realistically, if I was taking the bus to another country in Europe, that’s a day of travel, and then I would probably want to arrive there a day earlier because I would just want to spend the day recovering. And then there are the two days for the workshop, and then a day of travelling back. And then I would probably want to spend another day recovering at home. So, there a two-day workshop has become a six-day job. I can really see that happening. The cost in terms of time and tiredness and that sort of emotional thing is the biggest concern, also when thinking about the amount of time that I’m already now away from friends and family. Another way to go about this would be to organise more: to try to stay for several weeks consecutively in one place or area. That would mean more time away from family and friends, but maybe then I could spend the next month at home with them without having to travel at all. Maybe that’s a sacrifice worth making, but it demands cooperation with and between different organisers. I don’t know if it will make a difference, but it’s exciting that the environmental movement in the UK is gaining such momentum. Today, we’re doing a protest against the bank HSBC and that they are still investing in fracking. There are some local fracking sites around here, and there were some induced earthquakes, so many groups are organising against it. But there are people in all of UK pretty much prepared to organise a new protest every week. Everyone is equally culpable, so it’s just to pick anything. Last week I was in London working, so then we did a protest against fast fashion. Then there was one because the BBC are not reporting enough on the environmental catastrophes we’re currently in. Here in Leeds, which is a small town, we did a protest for schools and young people. We thought maybe two hundred would come. A thousand showed up.