Views from my flat. The Timeball in the first picture used to rise and drop with the tide, serving as an indicator to cargo ships coming to port.
Well, if I had accumulated any blog devotees I've probably lost them by now! It's been quite awhile since I've posted anything, and unfortunately (for you) too much has happened for me to fill you in on every little thing. Let me start with an apology to any wretched soul who has anticipated another entry, and follow with a lesson: don't expect consistency from a penniless, traveling English major who believes that purchasing a Subaru online and that day driving it on the left side of the road (for the first time) in the dark for two hours to a hot springs is a good idea. As I have expatriated, apparently so has my common sense... Apart from this mini-prologue, I'm going to try and keep this entry a bit lighter and less laborious for the reader. I figure I can summarize my travels and current situation in three sections:
1. Recent Events of Questionable Consequence
2. A Day in the Life of a... Canadian?
3. A wee-bit-a'-munted-up Kiwi-English Translation
So, without further adieu or digression from the subject matter, and without drawing out already lengthy and difficult-to-read computer-prose that will leave your eyes watering mere words into the entry, for the sake of the reader, I give you my latest blog entry, hopefully the most accessible, direct and engaging entry to date and a model of brevity and concision for all of those (of which there will be many) to follow. We begin with a few events...
RECENT EVENTS OF QUESTIONABLE CONSEQUENCE
1. We did a tramp on Stewart Island........from now on a prolonged ellipsis will allot you laughing time. I caught a blue cod on rotten venison in a crowded 6-foot rubber dinghy. We ate the blue cod. It was decidedly better than rotten venison.
2. We played Presidents and Assholes for drinks on a dairy farm outside of Timaru with the same kid (Chris) who took us fishing. The names "Pants," "Kiwi-Man," "Love Muffin," and "Cuddlebum" were dubbed. I will not say how or to whom, and please don't ask.
3. We played in the disc-golf tournament at the Queenstown winter festival. Jordan and I tied for fourth. Julie and Katie took seventh. There were eight teams. Somehow we still weaseled a bottle of champagne out of the deal.
4. I took second in a free Hold 'Em tournament in Queenstown, winning a $50 bar tab right before leaving the city. We had to stick around an extra night to make use.
5. We watched yellow-eyed penguins, the rarest in the world, hop up treacherous bluffs to nest. Hmm...
6. Weak Sauce's battery quit us in a snowstorm. Jordan had to rev the engine every time he wanted to use the windshield wipers, while I frantically defrosted the window with a dirty old sock
7. Jordan, Julie, Katie and "The Sauce" left Christchurch. I stayed on a couch I found on couchsurfing.com for a week with a kiwi host, along with a German kid we later nicknamed "efficiency."
8. I found a temporary flat looking out over the harbor in the Lyttleton suburb of Christchurch. Here I now reside.
9. I went to Hanmer Hot Springs for the weekend with my couchsurfing friend, a 40-year-old Scotsman, and a lesbian nurse couple. My new shoes were stolen at the pools.
10. I got a bartending job at Elevate bar and restaurant. I showed up for work yesterday and it was explained that I would be serving, not bartending. I am currently looking for jobs.
11. I simultaneously bought a white 1990 Subaru from a university kid and introduced the word "fly" as an adjective to the kiwi language.
A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A... CANADIAN?
I'm just going to describe a day, that's all. I have no routine, and if anything my life becomes more sporadic daily. Take some snippets from today, for instance.
"It's nine o' clock, time to wake up! It's Nine O' Clock, Time To Wake Up! IT'S NINE O' CLOCK, TIME TO WAKE UP!!!" I had an alarm in high school that had settings for a rooster, church bells, and a bugle. My new phone-alarm is far worse, and much harder to snooze. To its credit though it does kick you right out of your sweetest dreams and into the day, and by 9:30 I was at my bay windows, mug of brew in hand, staring down at the bustle of ships navigating Lyttleton's loading docks. Kat sat at the computer in a robe, while Tom perched next to her on the futon.
"Ha, does nobody in this house have a thing to do today?" After my four-hour orientation at work yesterday I had earned a day off. My new flatties both shook their heads.
"Just takin it easy. Guy's at work, probably cook some fish tonight, but other than that not much else," Kat, Guy's fiancee, responded. Guy seems to be at work often, managing the marketing for two ski hills and Chill, a "Winter Adventures" operator. The name is apt to describe my new living situation; Kat's a photography student, Guy and Tom both ski and surf religiously, and all three abide by the Southland philosophy of life-- just chill. Always reluctant to leave this haven they've created on our hill above the ocean, I lingered over my coffee and the view as long as possible before swooping up the keys to my 18-year-new Subaru and heading out the door.
Every day I head into the city I pass through a tunnel a few kilometers long. Lyttleton is in a way its own town, separated by both distance and attitude from the more lively, urgent, and landlocked center. The tunnel is a good transition point, marking the moment in each day where I either snap to attention or unwind, depending on which way I am passing through. Today I had to open a bank account, apply for an IRD number, and sign my work contract. I drove a bit slower through the tunnel.
After all of my errands I stopped to fill up my gas tank. Until New Zealand I'd never found it prudent to carry $100 bills. When my tank topped off at $101, I actually had to dig for an extra coin to cover it, all the while regretting my decision not to buy a 50cc Vespa scooter. Saving the money would have been worth the humiliation. Feeling cheated and angry, I felt that I had to go for something a bit more prudent- I rang up my friend Amanda to go get $8 sushi lunch boxes in the city center.
Christchurch is known as The Garden City due to the uncanny amount of land-area occupied by public parks and gardens. People ride their bikes all over and walk their dogs, poop-scoop bags in hand. Several streams descending from the North converge into one river, which lazily slips through the city out to the ocean. The sparsely chirping birds and calculated presence of nature are just enough to remind you that you're stuck in a city. I reflected on this while chewing on my tuna rolls.
My tenancy at my current flat is up in two weeks due to a prior agreement, so I spent the next few hours looking at flats I found on TradeMe, the kiwi version of eBay. I occupied my driving time with cursing, swerving, and fist-shaking as I searched for non-existent street names. There is no reason that a road, when it continues absolutely straight, should ever change its name at an intersection.
I stopped by work to look at my schedule. Each day was represented by a box, each containing two times. Logically the start and end of a shift, right? Mine indicate 11am-5pm, and I cracked a joke about my "wee six-hour shift" to my new boss. He explained that the two times were both start times, indicating a split shift with just enough time between the two to do, as the kiwis would say, "fuckall" with. I have split shifts every day this week.
On my way out I met my co-worker Byron. After a brief introduction the inevitable "Where ya from?" came up. "Guess," I said. He furrowed his brows and clasped his hands, index fingers pointed at his chin. He eventually lowered his hand-gun, leveling at my chest. "You're Canadian." It was the fourth time today and at least the 100th time this trip. Only one in four people correctly guess American. One in one hundred have sworn I am Swedish, and one in 50 say, "Umm..... Middle Eastern?..... Somethin'.....hmmm..."
A WEE-BIT-A'-MUNTED-UP KIWI-ENGLISH TRANSLATION
'Wee'- tiny.
'Munted'- screwed up. Actually, more 'f*cked' when used in context
'Sweet-as'- replaces cool or awesome, as well as numerous other words yet to be deciphered
'Cheers'- Thanks. No problem.
'Togs'- bathing suit. I know because I innocently left mine somewhere.
'Good 'on ya!'- way to go, good job. This is often shouted for some reason.
'How ya goin?'- How are you? How are things?
'Tea'- tea. But more commonly, dinner.
'Reckon'- people of all ages actually 'reckon' here, not just the philosophic elderly
'Gutted'- I feel awful, or 'dangit!'
'CV'- resume. Don't say resume here, people look at you weird and go back to what they were at
'Biscuit'- cookie
'Proper'- if something is real or genuine, it is actually "proper," such as a good pub
'Rubbish'- trash
'Bogan'- hooligan
'Boy racer'-bogan in a fast car
'Road Warriors'- the actual name of an NZ gang that get way to much TV airtime for being a bunch of high school punks in souped-up Hondas. This entry will not appear on the NZ version of my blog
'Lolly'-candy. Kinda grates the ears, huh?
'Shag'- hehe. I think back to Austin Powers every time I hear this. 'Randy' is common over here as well
'Bro'- Aww, bro! Yeah, it's still common here.
'Bum'- Butt
'Loo'- toilet
'Super-loo'- massive toilet complex
'The Trots'- diarrhea
'Deep Breath'- a beer after work. Maybe that's unique to my flatties, though...
'Flatties'- roommates
'Bloke'- Guy
'Bonnet'- Car hood
'Boot'- Car trunk
'Pack a sad'- to break or die. Or to leave I guess, I had a guy tell me his wife packed a sad on him
'On the piss'- getting drunk
'Pissed'- already drunk
'Piss-up'- a gathering at which to get drunk
'Pissing down'- raining. actually pissing down the worst I've seen while I write this
'Take the piss out of'- to ridicule or mock
'Root'- to have sex. there is no other meaning for this word, so careful at rugby matches, you don't want to root on the whole team...I actually told people I rooted for the Packers. No joke.
'Tomato sauce'- ketchup, but sweeter and a bit spicier. and not served with 'chips' unless requested
'Zed'- the letter Z
Light enough? Disclaimer: This piece is to be free from scrutiny in all areas grammatical or structural. Yes, elements of cheesiness, dryness, and erraticism were used to obtain a cheap laugh or two, and I am not ashamed of this. Briefly-
My several cracks at Christchurch do not indicate a distaste for the city. It definitely is a great hub for kiwi culture and a personable city. Amazing views of the snow-dusted alps and frothy ocean abound, and nature is never too far. However, now that I have finally found scattered moments to sit and think about what I want to get out of my time here, I have lost my feeling of content with simply being in a beautiful foreign country. No matter how special the city, and Christchurch is nothing extraordinary, it is still just that- a city. Though each may be markedly different and radiate culture of a particular nation, I think the true culture of a place must be in the natural beauty and the people who revel in it. People, and even the cities they build, are a product of the nature and surrounding geography; people are where they are for a reason, as are cities. As much as people can make a place, the place truly makes the people, and I think the root of cultural identity is much closer to the land itself. At least here it is. A virtual Garden of Eden for surfer Adam and ski-bunny Eve, New Zealand is a place where nature gives its all to humanity and the people actually give back. As I write this it becomes even more apparent- contrary to what I decided just weeks ago, and what I still believed just hours ago, I don't think Christchurch is the place for me. Going on 'heaps' of local advice and even urging, I'm seriously considering packing up at the turn of the season to head to Mt. Maunganui, a somewhat sleepier surfer town situated on the east coast of the North Island...
Ron and Beth- Just a developing whim, but I might be closer than originally thought when you both return!
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