Pony Haircuts, Poo Soup, & Playing Chicken

Project “Sleep-in-the-Van” had a fairly smooth start. As Christchurch faded in the distance, we eagle-eyed the roadside looking for prime spots that we could 1) not bother anyone or trespass, 2) get away from the traffic. After a stint next to a farmer’s field getting everything sorted out for the night (the van came with tons of stuff — some useful, some taking up precious space), we found a picnic area just down the road. Although it wasn’t as far from the highway as we’d like, we still bedded down to a gorgeous sunset on the mountains and the sprinklers ch-ch-ching away.

We set an alarm for five (yes, a.m.), lest we overstay our welcome, and awoke to mooing cattle, and waddling ducklings. When we stopped for gas in Ashburton, Pat supported my pact with myself to invest some of my travel time into my health. He filled up and babysat the van while I explored the 7 a.m. small-town-life in my sneakers. Then it was off across the Nebraska-like flat farm lands, toward our next wwoofing spot in Makarora. We passed sheared sheep, amazing red stag herds,

, half-grown lambs, and even saw elk! Scotchbroom has taken over here just as much as it has in the States (Oregon!), unfortunately, so lots of that, too. Some kind of hawk was plentiful alongside the road as the flat farm land finally gave way to rolling hills. Give me elevation, or give me death!

Through the window of a not-yet-open shop in Geraldine, we saw the world’s largest sweater – the “Giant Jersey”!

As we climbed out of Geraldine, lupine

all shades of the rainbow began to dot the roadside. For the next five hours, the countryside was covered in a candy-like tapestry of lupine. Our pit stops for the day were beside huge, emerald blue lakes with Mt. Cook and its neighboring peaks towering in the background. The water is an indescribable color — like a murky blue raspberry jolly rancher. Gorgeous!

In the late afternoon, we finally arrived at Chris & Emily’s. They are an awesome family, and we’ve been having tons of fun with them and their children. Hunter is a little six-year-old warrior, and Evie is a charming four-year old with a head full of red ringlets. Cute! We kicked off our first day of work with a pony haircut. Dudley has a horse disease that makes his hair grow profusely. The closer it gets to summer, the more miserable his yak-like coat is for him. We took the scissors to him — not a pretty job, but he’s comfortable. Form over function, right? Then we rid one of the gardens of thistles and fed all the young plants “poo soup” (which is exactly what it sounds like).

The view from Chris and Emily’s is absolutely stunning. Mt. Turner (sounds like “Tuna” in kiwi-speak) reaches just a bit higher than the surrounding snow-capped peaks. We can see Lake Wanaka glittering all day long a few miles down the valley. The country side is spring-green, and it’s early mountain summer everywhere we turn. Between working in the garden and in the yard, we’ve managed to see nature’s “Blue Pools” up the road, meet tons of locals at a community BBQ, and end up as honorary staff members at an employee cheese and wine evening at the local resort. I’ve also been adoring the use of Emily’s road bike — endless paradise is excellent motivation!

Our big excitement tonight, housesitting for the family while they’re on their weekend getaway, took place in the chicken coop. Somehow, a mother hen and her three chicks ended up on the floor of the coop. The chicks can’t get back up to the nesting box themselves, so we had to move them. The recipe for hilarity is this:

  1. Find a pecking, frantic mother hen in attack mode
  2. Add freaked out baby chicks trying to stay with mom
  3. Squeeze a Gentle Giant (Pat) and a Fiesty Female (Me) into a space the size of a tipped-over refrigerator box (the coop).
  4. Arm Giant with a cricket bat, toy shield, and leather gloves
  5. Arm Fiesty with plastic lid (shield), long sleeves, and leather gloves
  6. Attempt to gently separate chicks from mom using shields and bat while crouching in coop.
  7. Let explitives fly.
  8. Repeat 6 and 7 for ten minutes

No chicks or mother hens were harmed in the writing of this blog, and everyone is safe and sound back where they belong!

More photos at: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=247622&id=500324216&l=e757f4bf09

Have Van, Will Travel

I am officially, sort of against my will, a hippie! Yes, I am now the dubiously-proud owner of a 1994 Mazda Bongo van with mattress.

Our trusty twelve month home/storage unit.

I don’t know how it came to this. Okay, I do. Except for a brief stint in my teens, function has always triumphed over form. Originally, a wagon was our goal — economic, not-a-van, and a place to lay our heads instead of shelling out $50-100 to sleep every night. An attempt to fold Pat’s 6’7” frame into the back of a Subaru Legacy was the moment of truth, and the reality of van ownership slowly sunk in.

Van shopping was a piecemeal task. Astoundingly, New Zealanders do not know about and do not use Craigslist (although it is available)! The closest thing is Trade Me, but it’s like Ebay. Our best option was to bike from hostel to hostel scanning message boards and calling van owners. On Sunday, we went to the Canterbury Car Market — a parking lot where sellers and buyers can meet up. Throughout the week we test drove seven vans. Most, mechanically speaking, have been run into the ground by apathetic or unknowing short-term owners. Bad shocks, black-black oil, mismatched tires, shoddy alignment, corroded radiators — you name it. We finally settled on the most mechanically sound van we found, which isn’t saying much. We’ve got our fingers crossed that the transmission carries us through the next year without a hitch!

As luck would have it, a couchsurfing visit to the tiny town of Birdlings Flat worked out amongst the van acquisition antics. We stayed with “Wheelie Mike” – a retired sheep shearer and deep sea fisherman. Birdlings Flat is about the size of… Rozet for you Wyomingites, Hyattville for the Californians, and Cheshire for the Oregonians. Half the time, they’re not even a dot on a map. It’s a collection of about 40 houses tucked beneath a volcanic bluff by the sea — no store, pub, or post office to speak of. Wheelie Mike’s is a hub of activity, and thanks to the “drop on by” community mentality, we got to meet half the neighborhood!

Mike’s son Bradley escorted us down to the roaring sea — he on his dirt bike, we in the all-wheel-drive golf cart on steroids. I found my first agates ever (finally!) and watched the terrifying, pounding surf. Although Mike is technically a quadriplegic, he still has some use of his arms/hands. Enough that he had dinner half done by the time we made it home! We drank Speights (the local beer), traded stories, and met neighbor after neighbor well into the night!

The next day, we finally got to play tourist in New Zealand’s largest south island city. Besides the stunning cathedral on the main square, my favorite part of the day was the art gallery. They are currently running a Ron Mueck sculpture exhibition that’s all the rage throughout the country. He makes stunningly life-like sculptures, save for their size. All are either larger or smaller-than-life. My favorite is “Wild Man” – a terrified looking mountain man sitting on a block. (see photo).

A city girl, I am not, and so at the end of the day, I was happy to head off into the sunset (sort of… it actually wouldn’t be dark for hours.)

More photos, if that’s your thing, at:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=245726&id=500324216&l=05eafbf507

Automobile Search and Rescue

We’re through with Auckland (for the time being) and have moved on to Christchurch (where all the earthquakes were recently) on the South Island! I’ll try not to be too dry as I squeeze lots of action into a few paragraphs!

So — in Auckland, we had more wonderful time with the Small/Blacketts (they are so fun!). We spent our working hours scraping anti-foul/bottom paint & deck paint off an old wooden sailboat. It will be fun to see it finished! Despite Tony’s flattering persistence to convince us to stay on, we won’t get to see it in person. (Although, we’ve talked about meeting up with them for a sailing trip when we come back north. FUN! And maybe some fish next time…)

Picnic with the Small/Blackett family

For a cultural experience, we got to go to an awards assembly at the school. Differences were the “heaps” of subjects that receive best-in-class awards — it ranges from math (they say “maths” here!?) to hospitality with a total of 20-some subjects. Also, kids are divided into different “houses” (like Harry Potter, I’m told) starting when they first enter the school. Far as I could tell, instead of one class leader/president, each “house” has one, so there are five at the school. More opportunities for leadership is neat.

Nick, Laurel, Pat and I strip and sand down Allegro

For sightseeing, we went to the Auckland Museum (this is akin to the National Museum), One-Tree Hill, and a famous beach — Karekare. The museum had tons of stuff about the Maori (original inhabitants of NZ). We learned that, unlike the U.S. where native populations were decimated by disease, the journey to NZ was so long that immigrants either recovered from their illness or died, which helped keep Maori population deaths more in check than elsewhere in history. NZ is known for tons of birds (the sea bird that is colored like a bald eagle catches my eye every day), and on display were Maori ways of catching them. My favorites were a long pole with a noose at one end, and a drinking trough lined with nooses that gets placed up in trees. We also learned how flax is processed for fiber. The “Volcanoes” was our favorite Natural History display, which included an interactive experience — sit in “your” living room watching a new volcano (Auckland has 50) being born (until the ash/plume flattens your house). The audio and moving floor made it a pretty cool experience!

A hike to “Dr. Seuss Land” from Karekare yields an amazing view

One-tree hill (volcano) actually has no trees at all anymore. It was the site of a Maori “pa” (defensible settlement) long ago. It’s been turned into a sight-seeing place that’s great for getting bearings — you can see much of the city, including both harbors (Auckland is one of the only cities in the world that boats two separate harbors — no wonder it’s the “city of sails!”).

Known both for beauty and a killer rip tide – moveable posts indicate which narrow strip of water is “safe” for swimming while a BP sponsored motor boat stands by for rescues

On our last days we went to the famous black sand beach — Karekare (ked-ee-ked-ee). We felt like we were on the set of LOST in Hawaii. We hiked up into the jungle, then out over a swamp and up the famous black sand dunes. It’s mind-blowing — the black sand is full of reflective minerals (silica?) and so it’s like looking at a brilliant night sky in the middle of the day! The paths leading up back to the parking lot (they say “car park”) felt like they were straight out of a storybook. So cool!

Pat at the summit of the massive black sand dunes that sparkle like the night sky

On Sunday, we went to a sculpture exhibition with the whole family in a military-fort-turned park. We loved the diversity and the interactive sculptures. Afterwards we had a picnic. Pat and I made quesadillas with tortillas from scratch! (Since they don’t have Mexico nearby, tortillas are hard to come by.) Our flight the next day to Christchurch was uneventful. Domestic flights don’t have the ridiculous security run-around that international flights do. We didn’t have to take off our shoes or jackets, we didn’t have to separate out our liquids — it was great!

Interactive Fun at the Sculpture Exhibit

Finally someone else steals the sky-high show

Now we’re on a car-finding adventure here in Christchurch while wwoofing with Yolanda. Funny thing, Yolanda is out of town on business, so her friend Annie is actually at the house in her place. Mostly we’ve just given her yard (another urban wwoof placement) a major overhaul and pulled nearly every weed on the property. We haven’t had much luck with the car stuff so far, probably owing to the fact that we couldn’t make up our minds about what we wanted AND we didn’t have a phone to contact any of the numbers in the ads. (Cell service is monopolized here and is horribly expensive — 21c a minute at the lowest, 44-89c usually. Texts are from 4-9c each!) Our hosts weren’t offering to help with phoning, so we bought a phone and SIM card. You, too, can call us! 022-011-seven193. NZ country code is 64.

One of my favorites – copper and frosted glass – each flower is only $450!

We’ve gotten to see a bit of Christchurch as we bike from hostel to hostel checking out the message boards. The earthquake damage is nil in some parts, and shocking in others — sort of like tornado aftermath. We’re off to look at some more vehicles. Wish us luck!

Will Work For Food

I’ll get the bad news out of the way first.   The “vacation” stories won’t probably arrive on the scene until after the first of the year.   Sorry to disappoint anyone sitting at a desk hoping for a non-stop adventure story, but I’ve been deeply submerged in regular, every-day life almost since we arrived.   But it’s great!

Affordability is at the top of my priorities, and will be until I have my first New Zealand paycheck.   I brought along $500 to last me until then.   At a minimum of $25 a night for (shoddy) accommodation, I needed to find a way to get my bearings cheaply.   Enter: work exchanges!  We are using  WWOOF NZ – Worldwide Opportunities (or Willing Workers) On Organic Farms.

A big pronunciation mis-understanding ensued with us both repeating the same word over and over and hearing two totally different things.

Before settling in to a job, I need to learn all the New Zealand systems – how to get a tax ID number, bank account, car, registration, warrant of fitness, etc.   What’s appropriate for a resume, where are the not-to-miss spots, how much should rent be… the works!   WWOOF is a program where workers volunteer four hours a day on a farm in exchange for accommodation and three meals.   Perfect!   (Although “farm” is very loosely defined.)

We spent our first two days in New Zealand at a hostel more suited to just-turned-18-partying-hell-raisers.   Jet lag plus some blessed earplugs took care of me, though!   On the second day we spent the day wwoofing with some people who own an inflatables-climbing wall-fun-on-the-go kind of business.   Pat and I ran the “log joust” at a local “Light Party” (the church’s alternative to Halloween).   In exchange, we’ll go fishing with them and stay at their farm next time we’re on the North Island.

After the hostel we moved to Steve and Joanne’s house.   Their adorable, always smiling, two-year old Benjamin was great and they were incredibly thoughtful and fun to chat with.   We cleaned the grass out of the backyard landscaping, explored the village up the road, and got fully adjusted.   Then it was off to Justine and Tony’s (Jo’s brother).   We cleaned up their front landscaping, helped with their rental cottage, planted some seedlings, painted Justine’s clinic windows, and are helping restore their classic yacht.   We’ll be here until we fly to the south island.

The Small and Blacketts (Justine & Tony’s family) are hilarious.   Tony is a clever, quick-to-laugh, easy-going guy.   Justine is sweet, even-tempered, bright, and genuine.   Emma – daughter number one – is a sharp-witted, adorably pixie woman in her first year at university.   Grace -daughter two – is serious, smart, blunt, and charming.   Hebe (hee-bee) (family friend’s daughter in town for school) is quiet, giggles, and is a brainiac (she got best-in-class in four subjects this year!).   Family dinner time is endless entertainment!

And now a few more New Zealand observations:

There are lots of cool little efficiencies here.   Steve & Jo have a slide-out cupboard in a tiny eight-inch wide by two-foot deep space.   Their dishwasher is divided into two – much like a common oven with its warming drawer.   Small loads don’t waste any extra water!   Over 90% of toilets have two different buttons – one for #1 (some water), one for #2 (more water).   And since the toilets are so efficient, the water doesn’t swirl around the bowl.   So, I haven’t been able to experience the southern-hemisphere phenomenon of the water moving the opposite direction.

Bathrooms are different.   It’s common for a household to only have one.   The toilet is most often on its own in a tiny closet and the shower and sink are in a room next door.   The shower door is just a half-partition, but somehow the floor stays dry!   Walking into the bathroom (or any other room for that matter) is a bit confusing.   The switches are exactly opposite – flip it down for “on” and up for “off.’   But the switches aren’t pegs like in the U.S.   Instead they’re more like the switch on a power strip.

Spring is still in the air and I’m still getting used to the accent.   Underneath the awesome Norfolk pines, jasmine is blooming everywhere and baby ducks are being herded along the sidewalks.   I’m finally adjusting to the common greeting, “how are you going?” and can usually provide a timely answer.   It will be “ages” until I figure out all the vowels.   Over half the place names are Maori – Waitakere, Whangarei, Rangitoto, Manakou, Titirangi, Omaru, and on and on.   I still say, “What?” a million (or “heaps” of) times a day.   I hope it gets better!

On that note – a funny story to wrap things up.   The other day Tony (sounds lots like “tiny” said “tah-nee”) said that a family friend was “fake.”   Later I brought it up, curious about the cultural meaning of someone being “fake.”   A big pronunciation mis-understanding ensued with us both repeating the same word over and over and hearing two totally different things.     My end: “What does it mean when someone is fake?”     Oh… no… not fake.   Fake.     “Yeah, fake.   What kinds of things are fake?”   No, not fake.   Fake.   I said she was fake.     “I know… what does it mean though.”   No, Fake.   V-A-G-U-E.   Fake.”     The most hilarious part was later, recanting the story for Grace, when I got to the end (fake/vauge), she heard (fake/fake) and Tony had to clarify for her while rolling on the floor with laughter!

Stay tuned for more fascinating Kiwi quirks!

<<titirangi>

First Impressions

We’ve landed!   New Zealand is great!

We got here sort of by accident.   Neither Pat or I listed New Zealand as number one on our places to go in the world (mostly due to cost – we tend to dream of countries where our dollars go farther and the traveling is a bit more adventurous).   However, New Zealand hands out work permits to Americans like candy (they need migrant workers) and the country contains never-ending mountain paradise coupled with an enormous landscape variety.   So, we are quite pleased to be spending the next year near the bottom of the globe!

You might have to have a fossik.

New Zealand is a quirky little set of islands – two large and several small – more than 1,000 miles off the coast of southeastern Australia.   Roughly, New Zealand is the size of California (a bit smaller).   Or a bit bigger than Wyoming if it’s easier to think of that size.   It’s known as “the land of the long white cloud” (we brought rain gear!) and has everything from the tropics on the North Island to full blown glaciers on the South Island.   Can’t wait!

The biggest difference so far, besides the seasons, is the switched roads.   Everything is on the opposite side.   Having worked in left hand traffic over five years at the coal mine, I thought I’d have a leg up on the adjustment.   Not so!   Everywhere I look I see lonely little “passengers” in cars without drivers.   I check both directions three times before crossing a road, and dash in a panic to the other side.   It will be hilarious (and hopefully not disastrous) when I start driving!

It was a neat reminder – on the way in from the airport – to see a sign about the upcoming “summer” of possibilities!   Spring is in full swing with the tree ferns unfurling.   Billboards with eye-grabbing extensions seems to be popular here – a beaker with the bubbles going outside the traditional square, a man’s leg extending outside the usual space to demonstrate “leg room” on certain new flights.   Oh, and coins here are made of heavy metals!   I was shocked to pull my camera out of my pocket and find coins stuck all over the magnetic closure.

The road signs are different as well as the vocab.   A red circle encompasses speed limits.     Yield signs are the same shape, of course, but instead the command is “Give Way.”   “Works End” means you’re out of the construction zone.   A motorway is a highway, and a bonnet is a hood.   “Sweet as” means “cool.”   “No diapers allowed in trash can” becomes, “No nappies in this rubbish bin, please.”   By way of directing me to search in a drawer for a rubber band, our host Steven told me, “You might have to have a fossik.”   Volunteering in the hot sun, an event organizer offered drinks.   I chose lemonade, and she returned with a Sprite!   All drink of that sort (7Up, Fresca, etc.) are called lemonade here!   I love that kiwis (New Zealanders) say “heaps” instead of “lot” and refer to your energy level in term of “beans.”   As in “Benjamin still has heaps of beans left in him!”   Or, “My, you’ve got a lot a beans to hike all that way.”

Some things are markedly more expensive, but minimum wage is more than double what it is in the U.S.   With the worldwide exception of unsubsidized fuel (gasoline is about $7.40 a gallon here), most day to day things are the same price or just a tiny bit more expensive – especially food.   We’ve eaten lots of peanut butter and fruit outside of the meals we share with our wwoof families.

We’ve had some interesting food finds.   The cheese industry here has escaped the strange marketing that’s turned U.S. cheese a rainbow of yellow and orange.   None of the cheese has color additives, making it all the color it was to begin with – white!   Vegemite and marmite are popular toast spreads here.   Basically, it’s low-sodium soy sauce that’s been evaporated into a paste.   Pat says it’s gross.   At the store, we found a new fruit to try – a tomarillo is like a long persimmon, is ruby red with black seeds, and tastes like a cross between a tomato and a melon.   Yum!

Final observations – people here seem really friendly.   There seems to be a really non-aggressive atmosphere.   On the bus, instead of a sign like, “These seats are reserved for elderly and disabled persons” the sign said “Make the journey easier for elderly or disable persons.   Give them this seat.”   Speaking of the bus, we won’t be riding much.   We’re off to the south island November 15th where we’ll buy a car (which we’ll sell back when we leave).   The bus is expensive – about $5 a ride around the city, and less convenient than having a place to keep our stuff!

I’ll blog more later about what we’ve been doing since we arrived.   We’re off to explore the little village up the road a bit more!

Dinner With A Sex Tourist

It was tough pulling myself out of bed in time for the 7:15 bus to Chiang Mai this morning, but I made it!   Bargaining with a tuk-tuk  driver to get to the bus station was one of the more humorous parts of the morning.   It’s disappointing to see that Americans have a terrible reputation around here.   Today is the third time I’ve watched a Thai  person’s face look completely crestfallen once I told them I was an American.   I would hope such reactions would insipre some introspection.

The bus ride was uneventful.   I’ve been savoring the one book I bought in the SF airport, but I know I probably can’t make it last forever.   Especially if I end up on a Mekong River trip!

Here a monk, there a monk, everywhere a monk, monk! Coming into contact with a woman means three days of absolutions. They steer a wide course around all women, including me!

After getting set up at a Chiang Mai guest house, reserving spaces in tomorrow’s cooking class (I think we’ll be the only two!), and chatting up some physical therapists from Seattle, Nicole and I went our seperate ways for the afternoon and evening.

The main Buddah  and others inside the Wat. It’s so beautiful, all the colored mirrors – green, teal, blue, gold, and red. And everything is coated in a golden glow. It’s amazing!
I, of course, had to start with a small nap.   Then it was off to the city’s most majestic temple for twenty  minutes of contemplation in front of the huge and beautiful Thai buddha.   Then, fancying something other than Thai food (hey – I eat it at least once a day!), I headed for an Italian place near a used book shop.   I can’t stand not knowing the language or being able to satisfy my curiosities about it, so I bought a phrasebook and plunked down at the Italian place.   My crab pasta and wine had just arrived when an American fifty-something man asked me how it was.   Since I’m always having to do “take away” after every meal, I invited him to order some anti-pasta and share my dish.

Turns out he’s a 53 year old  retired pharmacist from Pennsylvania  who used to teach at a few universities in the US.   Has children  in their early teens  in Michigan.   Is a sex tourist!   I held my own, pegged him with all my questions about the biz, and made my diapproval  very clear.   He was fairly  unaware of my stance and often told me more than I wanted to know, but I got my curiosity satisfied.   He says that the women there largely do it to support their families, and it’s more like a relationship than a business transaction.   They come after white men in friendly ways hoping to play host at all the dining hot spots and attractions and end up with a few thousand bhat  (about $60 – $90) whenever their family needs something (medical appointments, etc.).   Weird.

I excused myself rather definitively, leaving no room for protest, and headed off to leave a note for Nicole at our guesthouse before heading to the night bazaar.   After a mile or two, I arrived to some desperate vendors who don’t let up (very unlike all the other experiences I’ve had here) and ran out of time after only four or five blocks.   On the way home, I took a “short cut” that sent me almost a mile out of my way.   When will I ever learn to retrace my steps?!

Tomorrow is an entire day of Thai cooking class, and then on to… I don’t know.   Pai?   Chiang Rai?   Somewhere in between?