Sir Ed and me

Sir Edmund Hillary has died.
In this small country, where there seems to be 3 degrees of separation instead of 6, everyone has a connection to Sir Ed, as he is affectionately called. Here are mine:
• I can't claim to have ever met him, but he lived about 2 miles away and I drive by his house every day on my way to work, if that counts.
• His casket was driven to the cemetery at the end of my street.
• His wife was an Old Girl (alumni) of my school, and their daughter attended my school until age 16 when both perished in a plane crash in Nepal on a visit to see Ed. That was 30 years ago. There is still a Nepalese painting hanging in the school library, donated in honour of Louise and Belinda Hillary.
• My next-door neighbour was acquainted with Sir Ed and more specifically his (second) wife, June: June's sister worked for my neighbour, so they would all get together for a BBQ or whatever. Imagine, Sir Ed has been next door for a sausage sizzle.

Besides admitting to having only the slightest connection between Sir Ed and me, I can also admit to a dearth of similarities between Sir Ed and me.
Ed climbed Mt. Everest, the highest mountain in the world.

I climbed Rangitoto, a volcanic island in Auckland's harbour.




After conquering Everest, he said "We knocked the bastard off"
After huffing and puffing to the top of Rangitoto, I said "Who's idea was this?"

It must have taken Ed days/weeks/months to

travel by ship to India, then over land to Nepal, then walked to Base Camp, Camp 1, etc. until he got to the top.

I had a pleasurable forty-five minute ferry ride from Auckland, and hiked for a few hours.

Ed wore crampons on his boots.

I wore Teva sandals.

The temperature was below zero when Ed climbed Mt. Everest.

It was about 15ºC/60ºF when I hiked Rangitoto.

During his climb, Ed probably said encouraging things like, "Keep going, we can do it!"

During my hike I complained and belly-ached and said things like, "I'm too old for this!"

Ed was 33.

I was 50.

Ed had trouble breathing because of the altitude.

I had trouble breathing because I was out of shape.

From the top of Everest, Ed had a view of everything on Earth.

From the top of Rangitoto, I had a gorgeous view of Auckland and the Hauraki Gulf.

Back at Camp 4, Ed and Tenzig probably had a cuppa tea.

On Rangitoto, I drank bottled water. It was ice cold, and very refreshing.

Afterwards, part of the mountain was named after him: the Hillary Step.

I got nothing.

Here's what I like about Sir Ed: It's not that he was the first to reach the top of Mt. Everest, or raced to the South Pole, or gave all his money to the needy in Nepal. No, it's that he went to palaces and mansions, met royalty and millionaires and - as he described it - never saw much to envy, let alone emulate. I like that he's called Sir Ed. Most of all, I am impressed that his name is listed in the phone book under "Hillary, Sir Edmund." That says everything about him and about this country.

Connectionz

Meeting the Prime Minister reminded me of one of the differences between New Zealand and America: New Zealand is such a small country that meeting someone famous is entirely possible. I've noticed two consequences of this: Kiwis think that a typical American knows famous people (they don't). And Americans don't think a typical Kiwi would know any famous people (they do). Here's some examples:

On my first day teaching in New Zealand, the students asked me:
1. Do you know 50 Cent? (no.)
2. Do you know the guys from American Chopper? (no.)
3. Do you know any wrestlers from WWF? (no.)
As you can see, I was disappointing to them right from the start.
But they honestly thought that because I'm American, it's entirely possible that I would know someone famous in America. I don't. (It's quite disturbing to discover who they think is famous in America, or which famous Americans they hoped I knew - but that's a different issue)

New Zealand is so small that when there's a national disaster that affects a few hundred people - like the ferry Wahine that sunk on its way to Wellington - odds are good that the average Kiwi knew someone who was involved. A neighbour's son, a colleague, or a relative, for example. Since I rode the Wellington ferry a few weeks ago, wrote about it in the blog, and read a book about it, I have been bringing up the Wahine disaster in conversations and have discovered that my colleague's husband was on the same ferry boat a few weeks before it sank AND a science teacher at my school was on the ferry as it sank and helped save people. As an American, I find it amazing to find connections so close! But it's not amazing to Kiwis.

I recently went to hear an author speak about a biography she'd written of Sir Edmund Hilary, the New Zealander who was the first man to conquer Mt. Everest, more than 50 years ago. She explained the difficulties she encountered because her subject was a national icon, practically a saint, and still very much alive. She asked how many people in the audience had met "Ed." Out of 150 people in the room, about 25 raised their hands. I was astounded! If you were at an author event in America and asked how many people had ever met Muhammed Ali, I can't imagine you'd get a single hand.

Well, now that I'm living in this small country, I think I should go out and meet some more famous people. I've already met the Prime Minister. Who else should I seek out? An All-Black Rugby star? (Hmm. They're quite good-looking) The latest winner in New Zealand's Dancing With the Stars? (No. Too tabloid) How about Sir Ed? He lives in Auckland. His wife and daughter both attended my school, and he gave a painting of Mount Everest to the school in their honour after they were killed in a plane crash. That painting hangs in the library. Yes, I think I'd like to meet Edmund Hillary next. After all, it's not impossible to meet a national treasure in this country.