Wellywood


Wellington hillside as seen from the ferry

What do public showers and gelato have in common? El numero dos. During our five days in Wellington, I visited both the gelato shop and the public shower* exactly twice.

Approaching the green, hilly, capital city by ferry, felt like being on Google Earth slowly zooming into the port. Much like Portland, Oregon, this town’s development was planned from day one. A “town belt” – a green belt of forest surrounding the city – was set aside over a century ago. As a result, it’s gorgeous but full of horrendous. Couple this with a pattern that is decidedly not a grid and numerous one way streets, and you have a recipe for definite driver/navigator bickering!

Bucket fountain on Cuba street - fun, random entertainment!

The “best museum in New Zealand” is in Wellington. It’s free and it’s called “Te Papa” or ‘Our Place.’ [Papa is the Maori word for mother!] I spent hours (at least ten) exploring the very-well-done exhibits over five days. Film footage of a home’s interior during an earthquake in the simulation house finally made me understand how scary a real monster of a quake would be. (I’ve only been in smallish ones). One of the displays showcased a Kiwi scientist who invented “Quake Breakers” for large buildings — basically giant rubber blocks shot through with lead cylinders (for shape security) that the whole building sits on. Lead doesn’t crack under pressure like other metals.

The display on immigrants was also illuminating, and included tables with a conveyor belt of stories rolling by that I could pick off and put back. It’s incredible to see how some people wait for an entire decade in a horrible refugee camp shack for a chance at a new life. It was also thought-provoking to be reminded that the difficulties don’t end after they clear customs. It’s so easy for us ‘haves’ to get irritated with the ‘have nots’ when the gift of a new life and new opportunities doesn’t completely erase who they were or put a permanent smile of gratitude on their faces.

On our ride back to the city, the fountain came on!

I really enjoyed the museum displays that highlighted Maori and Kiwi culture. Some of the ancient Maori wisdom — from latitude finding water devices to knowledge of lunar effects on planting — made me feel wildly ignorant. I had an “oh yeah!” moment when I learned that boat builders always carefully observed a tree before chopping it down. The most windswept side (with the fewest branches) will be more dense and act as a natural ballast if the boat is carved out correctly! An interactive game took me through what it was like to grow up Maori in the mid 1900’s. I made choices about ‘my’ life — whether or not to go by my Maori name at school, whether or not to stay home with my siblings when my mom died, who to date, where to live. But sometimes, I’d make my well-thought-out selection and the computer would say, “Because you’re Maori, _______, so you can’t do that.” “Because you’re Maori, you’re not allowed to drink at this restaurant unless you’re married to a Paheka (white) man.” Overall an excellent civil rights empathy exercise!

Red rocks - an ancient intrusion that gives the area it's name - where we spent a lovely afternoon

From browsing the museum, I finally learned why, until a few years ago, there were NO local banks in New Zealand! Australia has owned all of them for over twenty years.   Even the Bank of New Zealand and National Bank, which sound like they must be owned by NZ are not! Why? In the 80’s, New Zealand’s economy took a huge nosedive, forcing the sale of many government assets from banks to telephone companies, to electricity services. A few years ago they finally started up Kiwi Bank (which is who we chose to bank with), by adding services to all the post offices!

Other interactive exhibits I enjoyed: deciding which four species to take with to a new planet and finding out whether or not I survived, choosing a tsunami-creating-force and watching how it plays out in the ocean, and being the prime minister having to make a decision based on the Treat of Waitangi (New Zealand’s hotly contested founding document — the English version is signed by Maori and European leaders, but the Maori leaders could only read the Maori version which put things in quite a different context than the English version.)

Blooms at the lovely botanic gardens

But, Wellington wasn’t entirely about the museum! We visited Mt. Victoria overlook to enjoy views of the city and relax, we met up with a former Wanaka co-worker of mine and biked the waterfront, we shared a few pitcher’s at the lamp-shade ridden Mac’s Brewpub, we checked out the underground (literally) Saturday market, we educated ourselves at the hilltop wind turbines, we lazed an afternoon away 4WDing out to Red Rocks beach, we visited the Embassy Theater restored to its impressive Victorian glory by Peter Jackson for the Lord of the Rings premiere, we made tacos for Olivia and Eugene (my former co-workers), and we spent an evening as the only patrons doing karaoke at the Fringe Bar!

Thanks to a pretty compact downtown, we also got some much needed alone-time — parking the car and going our separate ways. In my wandering, I discovered the huge Sunday farmer’s market doesn’t have ANYTHING organic, I explored the breathtaking observatories and tidy trails in the gorgeous botanic gardens, and thrice I indulged in the delicious, cheap Malaysian food for which the city is famous. Yum!

So many flavors, so little room in my belly!

By the end of day five, the old saying about taking the girl out of the country was ringing in my ears as we struggled through painfully jammed traffic and an attempt to find parking. Relief flooded me when Pat agreed we should give up and hightail it out of the city! Goodbye, Wellywood!**

Rainbows, unicycles, ladies of the night, etc: visuals here.

*While public showers may seem gross, here they are decidedly not.   Why?   NZ doesn’t have any homeless people.   One of our kiwi friends told me how shocked he was to travel in U.S. cities and see homeless folks.   So who uses a public shower, if there isn’t anyone who doesn’t own a shower?   Well, basically, no one.   Since it doesn’t get used, it’s a sparkly, shiny public facility for which you just check out the key!

**Wellington is apparently well-known in the film world, in league with the likes of Bollywood, and Hollywood. As such, it is often referred to as Wellywood. A controversy broke out a few months ago when the city government approved the construction of a giant Hollywood-esque sign on a hilly by the city’s airport. Eventually, the sign promoters had to give up their dream.



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