Walking with the Giants of Perth

By Neilwin Joseph L. Bravo
As a young boy, I was always awed by stories of giants. Giant stories from the biblical Goliath to the folklore-ic Jack and the Beanstalk amused me no end.
 Stories of giants kept me awake and at the same time put me to sleep depending on what time of day it was.
 Giants were my kind of heroes, too. When I was bullied (oh, believe me, I was) in kindergarten, I called my ‘giant’ neighbourhood buddy and classmate Apollo to defend me.
 Aaah, those days.
 Last February 13 to 15, I finally experienced walking with giants in the streets of Perth here in Australia.
 The ‘giants’ were the main attraction of the Perth International Arts Festival and were created as part of the centenary celebration of the Anzac which is the term for the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (Anzac).
 The Anzac was a First World War army corps of the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force that was formed in Egypt in 1915 and operated during the Battle of Gallipoli.
 From the time I saw the ads on television, I had set my mind on meeting the giants—a Girl Giant and a Diver Giant. Actually, they are giant marionettes controlled by Lilliputians hanging on cables. Never call them puppets, the company warned ahead of the visit by the Little Girl Giant and Diver Giant. It didn’t take long for people to see them as “alive,” too.
 Girl Giant measured almost six meters, she has shoulder-length hair, changes clothes, showers, walks, dances, flies and yes, even snores in sleep. Diver Giant is as tall as a four-storey building. He walks, takes off his diving headgear, hugs Girl Giant and carries her to sleep. Yes, he snores too.
 That snore reverberated around the city interrupted by didgeridoo as the show capped off with the two Giants bidding the city goodbye and ferried on a barge off Swan River.
 While walking in Perth’s CBD, the Diver Giant even leaped over an overpass assisted by a crane. It was a massive spectacle I will never forget. It’s like a fulfilment of my ‘giants’ fantasy.
 I describe the show as spellbinding. To experience the giants was just dreamlike.
 If my month-old son Magnus could scream from his pram, I know he would. But a quaint smile on his face was enough for me to be reminded of one day telling him the whole story.