Signing out

Hello all! Boone here again. Sadly, it's my final night here in New Zealand so I'm writing my recap of the whole trip.

I left off my last entry right before our trip to Rotorua which was pretty awesome, I learned how to perform a haka. It was Father's Day in New Zealand but that didn't stop me from beating Dad mercilessly at Scrabble later that night. I'm a great son. The following day I took off for the Coromandel Peninsula where I found a hostel and met my flatmates, Eric and Johannes. The three of us drove to Hot Water Beach despite there being a terrible storm. Hot Water Beach has loads of geothermal activity underground so if you dig a hole at the beach during low tide it will fill up with hot water, hence the extra clever name, Hot Water Beach. We were hoping that sitting in a natural hot tub would somewhat counteract the cold from the storm, but that didn't end up being the case.

Eric and Johannes had to catch a bus early in the morning so I was on my own for the following day. I went to Hahei and hiked to Cathedral Cove, got my feet wet. There were two little dogs that were walking the trail with me, I think they lived in the area. They followed me all the way back to Hahei Beach, but when I walked up to the car I heard barking down on the beach. I could see one dog and he was barking at the waves. I couldn't see the other dog in the water but the barking dog continued to bark as he went down the beach, seeming to follow something he could see in the water. I sprinted down the beach, ready for a dramatic rescue, only to find that it was a different little dog and he was barking at the waves because he was just a dumb dog. The two dogs I had been walking with were down at the other end of the beach.

Yesterday we flew down to Wellington and explored the Beehive and Parliament building.
Outside the Parliament building is a statue of New Zealand's longest serving prime minister, Richard Seddon, 1893-1906. He was an avid opponent of women's suffrage. I found it pretty funny that the statue faces the recently-built Kate Sheppard Hotel, named after New Zealand's most prominent member of the suffrage movement (she's on the New Zealand ten dollar bill, he's not on anything). We went to a rugby game between Wellington and Waikato, I loved it, I wish rugby was bigger back in the states. Later I went out to a couple of sports bars with my flatmates, three German girls, and we watched more rugby, the All Blacks beat the Wallabies 28-24. After the game we went dancing at this pub that had a live band. Didn't get back to the hostel until 2:30.

This morning we flew back to Auckland and Mom asked me for all my 'bests and worsts' of the trip, here's a few...

Best memory - Paihia hostel
Best volcano (of the 7 I summitted) - Rangitoto
Best kiwi food - meat pies
Best Maori word - Whakarewarewatangaoteopetauaawahiao (I'm not making it up)
Worst part about driving in NZ - the 'give way' rule for lefts turns, absolutely ridiculous
Worst scare - thinking there was a puppy drowning at Hahei Beach :(

New Zealand is pretty amazing, and is completely and utterly different from America. I feel like everybody here has a generally nicer attitude towards foreigners than we do in America. There's far more unprompted help offered everywhere. Everybody is far more trusting here. You can accidentally leave a bag of groceries in the cart at the store and go back and they'll simply tell you to grab everything that was in the bag, someone will return the misplaced one. You can go to the library and check out books even though you have late fees to pay. If you don't have the money on you, no worries, bring it next time. That wouldn't happen in America. And I know these are just small examples but they build up.

The politics are completely different as well. In the US, presidential candidates campaign for about 2 years, but here in New Zealand they do it in 5 weeks. Why does it take two years for us?
The US is a completely politically divided nation, divided for the most part into two parties, Democrats and Repulblicans. Here in New Zealand there are 8 political parties. EIGHT! In the US, hypothetically every Democratic candidate for any office in Congress can lose an election 49% to 51%. Congress would be entirely Republican despite the fact that 49% of the country voted Democratic. New Zealand has a system so that every party is represented proportional to the votes nationwide, so everyone has an equal voice.

The media is completely different. They actually report on things going on throughout the whole world, whereas in America practically all I hear about is what's going on in America. There's far more positive stories than negative ones; in America I feel like all we hear about are the latest local crimes, or the next thing they're adding to the endless list of things that cause cancer. It imposes this fear in us that there's danger lurking around every corner; New Zealand doesn't have that fear. And tying this back in with politics, in the US if you're liberal you watch liberally biased news and if you're conservative you watch conservatively biased news, it's just how it goes. But here in New Zealand I don't see a lot of bias in any of the news.

The food is healthier. I know that sounds strange, but what I mean by that is (for example) a McDonald's double cheeseburger in America is literally dripping with grease, but when I order one here, it's almost dry. It's the same company, and supposedly the same product, but you can literally taste the difference. I'm pretty confident they actually add straight grease to the burgers back in the US to make them tastier. No wonder 64% of our population is overweight.

And while I love all these - what I would consider - improvements over American society, I have grown so accustomed to our rude American behavior, our biased media, our greasy food, and our imperfect democracy, that I don't think I could ever leave it. I doubt my mom will ever stop trying to persuade me to move to New Zealand, and that's all fine and well, but I'm pretty happy with my stars and stripes. Cheers, mate.

Whooping it up at the Librarian Conference in Wellington

After a prolonged debate, it was finally decided that I would get to attend the School Librarian Association of New Zealand (SLANZA) conference in Wellington. At first, my colleagues and I assumed that the boss would go. Then she didn't want to go. Since it looked like nobody was going (and there was money in the budget), I told her that I was interested in attending ... but I was the employee with the least seniority, so she needed to offer it to Lara, Barbara, and Lucy first. Eventually it was decided that Lucy and I would BOTH go, which I never imagined would happen. We hurriedly reserved flights, booked a hotel, and registered for the conference before anyone could change their minds.

The big adventure began with me having to get up at 4:30 to get to the airport by 5:30 for a 6:00 flight. I am NOT good at getting up early. I am SO not a morning person, and I reminded Lucy of that repeatedly throughout the day. On the other hand, I could hardly believe that you only needed to check in 30 minutes early for an NZ flight! It's great living in a small country that isn't hyper-sensitive about security and terrorists. Curiously, Lucy and I were not seated together, but that's OK because I probably wouldn't have been very good company at that hour of the morning anyway.

Once we landed in Wellington (1.5 hours later), Lucy escorted me into the Koru Club, Air New Zealand's first-class lounge. Lucy's husband is a more-than-frequent flyer and he's a gazillion-mile member of the Koru Club or something like that. Anyway, Lucy gets access too, so she suggested that we go there for free breakfast. I'm all over that idea. It was my first time in a first class lounge and now I know what I've been missing all these years: cushy armchairs, hundreds of free newspapers, unlimited free food and drinks, fancy restrooms ... the works. I ate some really good muesli (granola) with yogurt and was tempted to find out which brand they serve because it was the best muesli I'd ever had in NZ. Mmm mmm. Alas, we had to get to the hotel before I could gorge myself further.

We took a taxi to the hotel, dropped off our bags, and walked to the high school where the conference was being held. We arrived just in time for the powhiri, a traditional Maori welcome ceremony. After the keynote speaker, it was time for morning tea: scones. Then we headed off to our first session. I went to a session on copyright laws in NZ (I know it sounds boring, but it's stuff I need to know) while Lucy learned about new IT developments in libraries. Then it was time for lunch: mini quiche and tarts. There was another session, then afternoon tea: muffins. Don't you love this country! After our 3rd session, there was even wine and cheese. They sure fed us a lot.

Like most conferences, some sessions were better than others. One frustrating presenter told us how to use an online database, but didn't even let us log on and try it ourselves. We just sat there in the computer lab and watched him do it. Ugh. The same is true of the different speakers; some were fascinating, some were funny, and some were boring. I still like going to conferences, however. There's things to learn, and new products to see, and inspiring speakers. Either I get great ideas for what I'd like to do differently, or I get validation that I'm doing some things well already.

My favourite speakers are usually the authors. In May, I went to the Auckland Writers and Readers Conference and got to hear about 25 different authors speak in various sessions. Joanne Harris (Chocolat) was wry, and Lionel Shriver (We Need to Talk About Kevin) was appropriately intense. Joy Cowley, an NZ children's author, told about her childhood when she always read a book while walking, and even read a book while riding her bike! (then she crashed into a parked car). I know it's nerdy, but I like to hear authors speak. At this conference, there was an entertaining speech by author Kate DeGoldi, and also Apirana Taylor, a poet who played various flute-like instruments as part of his poetry performance.

Often, the best part of a conference is the vendor tables with all their exhibits. I know they're just trying to sell me something, but they give away so many freebies that I don't mind stopping to talk to them. Lucy and I ended up with a shoulder bag full of pencils, pens, rulers, bookmarks, posters, hats, jelly beans, books, reading lamp, calculator, and notepads - besides the product information. We made a haul.

The conference ended early on the second day so the participants would have time to enjoy Wellington. You'll never guess where Lucy and I ended up - the Wellington City Library. We tried shopping, and even went into a store or two but then decided to see what the city library was like and ended up staying there the rest of the afternoon. We were interested in how they displayed their books, what kind of signage they used ("Dewey Love Non-Fiction? Dewey Ever!"), and the names of the various sections (Nostalgia Collection = classics). Lucy even took a few pictures, which brought a supervisor over who asked what we were doing. When we explained that we were school librarians admiring their set-up, she was really nice and said she was happy to answer our questions. (In America we would have been questioned to see if we were making plans for a terrorist attack) We browsed their shelves until we got bored and then started walking back. We're such library geeks. In our defence, we did go to a Belgian pub for dinner, which sounds much more happening than it was. I better skip the part about dancing on the tables and picking up cute (younger) guys in case our husbands read this. No, seriously.

The truth is that I'd been sneezing and blowing my nose all day so I took some antihistamine back at the hotel and fell asleep while Lucy was still watching CSI. Sharing a hotel room was not a problem for us, but I'd asked Curt if he ever shared hotel rooms with other guys when he went on site visits and he said No Way!. Apparently sharing a room is a girl thing.

On the last morning, the alarm went off as scheduled. I hate alarms. I hate getting up. At home, Curt gets up first, takes a shower and turns on the heater in the bathroom (this way it's nice and toasty when it's my turn). When he comes out, he gets dressed and starts to make the bed ... except I'm still in it. He folds up the duvet. Brrrr. Finally, he has to "hug" me, then sit me up, then stand me up (still hugging), and finally send me to the now toasty bathroom. It's our tradition. In the Wellington hotel room, I didn't have anyone to drag me out of bed. I explained the routine to Lucy, but she refused to perform Curt's duties. Anyway, I had to get out of bed all by myself and I performed admirably. Lucy threatened to tell Curt that my whole routine is fake, and that I'm perfectly capable of getting out of bed by myself. Uh oh.

On this particular morning, Lucy turned on the TV to watch the replay of the America's Cup race that took place in Valencia at about 2:00 in the morning. We didn't care enough about the race to stay up and watch it live (although lots of Kiwis did) but we wanted to know the outcome so we watched the replay. At this point, the New Zealand boat was down 4-2, and the Swiss boat only needed one more race to win overall. When we turned it on, the Swiss boat was ahead. It looked like it would be all over for the Kiwis. But no. Something happened to the Swiss boat ... they were losing ground ... the Kiwis passed them! It looked like the Kiwis might win after all. The Kiwi boat kept gaining ground (do they call it gaining ground or is it gaining water?) and had a comfortable lead as they neared the finish line. But apparently the Kiwis had a penalty against them from an earlier infringement. This meant they'd have to make the boat do a pirouette! So just before the finish line, they cranked it hard to the right (starboard? port?) and the boat turned in a tight circle. Unfortunately, this allowed the Swiss boat to catch up and pass them BY ONE SECOND. The Swiss boat won the America's Cup.

That was a pretty exciting finish, considering I don't even care about this sport. But boy, the rest of New Zealand sure cares. The whole country would be in mourning after this. If it's any consolation, most of the crew members on the Swiss boat were poached from New Zealand (but everyone here considers them traitors). I guess New Zealanders dominate the crews on pretty much all the boats. Sailing is HUGE in NZ. One more thing - why does Switzerland have a boat when there's not even any oceans in that country???

Today's date was July 4th, which doesn't mean anything in NZ, but would be a big holiday in the US. Since Wellington is the nation's capital - and the location of the American Embassy, I wondered if there would be some sort of 4th of July celebration there to mark the occasion. Coincidentally, the US Ambassador is from Portland, but he was appointed as a reward for his service to G. W. Bush as campaign finance chairman or something. So he probably wouldn't be amused but my explanation of why we moved to New Zealand. I guess it's just as well I didn't try to attend anything at the embassy.

Back at the conference, we had one more speaker, morning tea, another sessions, lunch, one last session, and a closing panel. Done. Our flight wasn't until 7:00 so we had some time to kill. No, we did not go to the Wellington City Library this time. We went to Borders Books. Which is almost as pathetic, I guess. For dinner, Lucy proposed that we go to the airport early and have free dinner in the Koru Club. Sounds like a plan. I got to gorge myself one last time before we flew home. This time, Lucy and I were seated together and we debriefed: good conference, lots of loot. We can't wait to share all our new ideas with our colleagues. Lucy said she'd make a Power Point of the pictures she took. I told her to remember to remove the picture of the cute guys that we picked up at the pub, or our fellow librarians might think we had too much fun.

Road Trip, Day 9

Uh oh. The alarm in our hotel room didn't go off. Luckily, Curt woke up at 7:35 anyway ... but we needed to hit the road at 7:50 to catch the ferry. No time for showers. We just threw everything in the car and started driving.

The drive from Nelson to the ferry terminal at Picton is another winding road over mountains and along the coast. It only takes 1.5 hours to get to Picton, but that was enough time for Nolan to get carsick. He said he wasn't feeling too good. Curt pulled over. Nolan threw up in the bushes. All those pies he'd been eating probably didn't help.

When we arrived in Picton, we found out that the ferry was running an hour late, so it turned out that we had lots of time. Oh well. This gave Curt & Erica a chance to get coffee & tea, while Nolan and I went in search of carsick medicine. The village of Picton is little more than a ferry town, and it serves a few thousand ferry passengers every day, so I was guessing they sell PLENTY of seasick pills. Sure, enough, the chemist had a substantial selection, and recommended SeaLegs. Sold.

During the break at the cafe and the chemist's, we also used Picton's public toilet, which ordinarily would not be noteworthy except it was downright weird. Curt used it first, and reported that it played cheesy Burt Bacharach music while he was in there. Obviously, that made us all want to experience it. When you pushed a button, the door slid open like on Star Trek. There was even an automatic toilet paper dispenser that gave you an exact amount. There didn't seem to be a flusher button, but a recorded voice told me that it would automatically flush when I pushed the button to exit. It felt like something from the Jetsons.

While waiting in line for the ferry, we learned that the crossing today was going to be rough and there was a "moderate" seasick warning. Fortunately, we were freshly stocked with enough seasick medicine for all of us. And it was a good thing we were, for the crossing was indeed choppy. A few of the more miserable travellers were in the bathrooms puking, but we all managed to survive with our stomach contents intact. Oh, and we played Scrabble on the ferry (again) and I won (again).

We arrived in Wellington at about 2:00 and even though everyone would have preferred to take naps, I made them all go to the museum instead. We walked through the shopping district and along the waterfront to get there. After the long ferry ride, it felt good to be out in the fresh air and walk around ... at first. Then we walked for another 2 hours inside the museum, and before long my feet hurt. Still, Erica liked the bush walk and the skeleton of the pygmy sperm whale hanging from the ceiling. Nolan liked the bugs (again) because it had big wetas. I liked the chocolate chip cookie at the cafe.

Back at the hotel after dinner, Curt took some cold medicine for his sniffly and sneezy nose, and combined with the seasick medicine, he fell asleep at 7:15 p.m. It's been a long day. It's been a busy week. It'll be good to be back home tomorrow.

Road Trip, Day 1 - Good Friday

It was Easter break (no school for 2 weeks) and we were setting off for a 10-day trip to the South Island with Nolan and Erica. We had ambitious plans which included driving 3500 km (2174 miles). We'd be driving from #1 to #4 on the New Zealand map on the right. That's about the same as driving from Bellingham to Los Angeles and back. BUT - and this turns out to be crucial - there won't be any motorways, just 2-lane roads. Imagine driving on Highway 1 along the coast all the way to L.A. instead of using I-5. Imagine the unimaginably beautiful scenery. But imagine how much longer that would take. Imagine all the carsick people in the back seat.

Our first day would involve driving all the way to Wellington, at the bottom of the North Island. (On the map, that's from #1 to #2) We left at 7:00 a.m. - even though I am NOT a morning person - and stopped within 20 minutes for crappuccinos for Curt and Nolan. As I got out of the car in the parking lot, I realised I still had my slippers on! My shoes were sitting back home by our kitchen door, and I had intended to put them on as I left, but evidently I didn't. Good grief. I did the same thing once before, when I wore my slippers to choir accidentally. I am having WAY too many senior moments. Those were the only shoes I was bringing on this trip, apart from sandals. Would it be sandal-wearing weather (hot and sunny) every day? Probably not. And I had no shoes for the next 10 days. Hmmm. Plan A - turn around and go back for my shoes. This idea was nixed by everyone. Plan B - My slippers almost look like shoes so I could just keep wearing them and nobody would know. I'd certainly be comfortable! Plan C - Maybe I would just have to buy some shoes. The consensus was to go with a combination of Plans B & C. As you might expect, Nolan got a big kick out of my absent-mindedness, but he would never tease his poor old mother about it throughout the trip, would he?

It took us about 9 hours to get to Wellington, but we made lots of pit stops and with 4 drivers we managed pretty well. During the drive, Erica took lots of pictures and Nolan did lots of crossword puzzles. We like to help him, which he doesn't always appreciate, but it helps us pass the time. We found our hotel in Wellington after a few wrong turns, U-turns and swear words. We call these episodes "Adventures" which is a euphemism for being lost and frustrated. One problem is that Curt is morally opposed to turning around; I think it's against his religion. Apparently, it feels too much like defeat and he doesn't want to have to admit that we're lost. So we keep going and proceed to get lost-er.

Eventually we arrived at the hotel. Whew. After checking in and schlepping all the luggage to our room, Curt and I decided to stretch our legs - remember, it's been a long drive! So we went for a walk (wearing slippers) in Wellington's Botanic Gardens nearby and climbed the trail to see the city from the summit. Very nice. We also stopped at a children's play area and tested out the zipline which was pretty cool. I always wanted to rig up a zipline from our house in Portland to my school below. You could see the school from our back deck, and it seemed like a pretty efficient way to commute to work every day if I could just jump on a zipline and whoosh down the steep hill, landing in the football field. Alas, it would only work if I could get Boone to crank me back up the hill at 5:00 every night and he wasn't too keen on that idea. Wimp. So I walked or biked to work instead. But it would have been fun.

We walked back to the hotel to get Nolan and Erica so we could drive around and find something for dinner, which involved more Adventures. As the official mapigator, I usually get blamed for getting us lost. In my defence, it's impossible to see the map in the dark. So I can only get a glimpse of the map as we drive under a street light, and then whoosh, my light source is gone. Before long, my credibility is gone too. On the way home, it sounded something like this:
me: Turn left at the next light
Curt: What? That's going to take us down to the waterfront again. We want to go the OTHER direction.
me: Trust me. It'll get us right back to the hotel.
Nolan: Why should we trust someone who can't even remember her shoes?
Curt turns left as directed. A few seconds later, we enter an unexpected tunnel.
me: "What is that tunnel doing here? There's not supposed to be a tunnel. Uh oh. You need to turn around. Trust me on this."

Wellington

We continued our holiday journey, driving from Rotorua to Wellington at the south tip of the North Island. Petrol stations seem to be more sparsely distributed in New Zealand than in the US, so the fuel gauge needle was uncomfortably close to the red E at the end of the dial. I was also doing mental math to convert kilometres and litres to miles and gallons to predict the amount of distance we could travel before we would run out of fuel and call for roadside assistance. We finally came to a station and Megan breathed a sigh of relief. I never had any doubt.

The price of petrol does not vary by more than a few cents per litre at all of the petrol stations. There must be some kind of national collusion because competition among different brands does not seem to make a difference: about nine out of ten petrol stations sold regular gas for 141.9 cents per litre (that converts to $3.65 US per gallon).

We stopped for dinner at a restaurant along the southwest coast and had a fine meal of fish and chips. The restaurant faced the ocean surf which was stirred up in a frothy tempest resulting from a storm that had blown in that afternoon. Wellington is famous for its wind, rivaling Chicago for the frequency and intensity of windy days.

We found our hotel after a couple of circuits through the CBD. The Wellesley Club is a very ornate hotel with old fashioned decor, appointments, and high coffered ceilings. We were given the McVicar Suite which was just adjacent to the Davidson Suite, What were they thinking? Fancy hotel bathrobes were supplied, but we ignored the fancy embellishments and wet bar offerings. Who do they expect to eat one small serving of Pringles potato chips for 3 dollars? Not us!

We ate the complimentary continental breakfast in the hotel dining room, but I insisted that we stop for a flat white at a local coffee shop before we headed to the Parliament buildings.

We walked around the Beehive (that's what the new Parliament building is affectionately called) and the old Parliament Buildings and arrived at the entry just in time for a guided tour. Our tour guide spoke with an American accent but he seemed very knowledgeable about the New Zealand history and government. We toured the House Chamber and saw the Queen's throne (it's really just a red upholstered high back chair!). The Queen is still officially the Head of State but it's obviously a ceremonial vestige of another time period.
The old Parliament building had recently been upgraded for earthquake safety. We saw a short video about it and saw the actual contraptions in the basement. They're called flexible base isolators and they were my favourite part of the whole tour, The base isolation system was developed in New Zealand by a Kiwi structural engineer and they are quite proud of the technology that has been exported around the world.

After the tour, we walked across town toward the Te Papa Museum, and Megan gave me a welcome civics lesson in parliamentary government and proportional representation. I need to learn more but it was a good start. The Labour (liberal) party controls Government now (barely) and the National (conservative) party is the Opposition. There are half a dozen minor parties like the Green, Maori, and New Zealand First party, but they only have a few seats. Coalitions and alliances are formed to ensure a majority voting block and this makes for some interesting bed partners. There's a fair amount of stealth, betrayals, and back stabbing. It's Shakespearian.

The Te Papa Museum is a new building lacking architectural distinction. It doesn't seem to have any memorable form or texture from the outside, and the galleries are chopped into odd spaces with no apparent flow or order. It's not even a sculptural edifice like the Guggenheim in Bilbao which works inside and out on so many levels. The permanent collection of paintings is small (most of it is science and history-related children's exhibits, which Megan liked) and the temporary art exhibits were average. The best part was a room with a vaulting stained glass window refracting a filtered blue light on a multi-coloured, whimsical marae within.










We walked back toward the hotel, stopping to see St. Paul's Old Church (1886) which has a very attractive timber vaulted gothic roof structure. A US Marine Corps flag was inexplicably mounted in the nave prominently alongside the New Zealand and American flags. Why?








Two buildings away, we visited the National Archives and were the only visitors to walk through the exhibits which included a display under glass of the original Treaty of Waitangi (similar to the Declaration of Independence) and other original founding documents in an unguarded, dimly lit vault. There was also an exhibit about an airplane crash in Antarctica 25 years ago, killing 250 sightseers. We had no idea there were flights to Antarctica! Apparently people used to fly there and back (without landing) just to see it from the air.


A brief walk back to the hotel and another walk to an Indian restaurant with take-away curried lamb finished us off for the evening. Megan soaked her sore feet in the luxurious hotel bath after a long and tiring but very interesting day.