Hard of HearingKiwi

We've been living here for 1.5 years now, and we really are better at understanding the Kiwi accent. I swear. But at times, it still stumps us. There have been three recent events that reminded me just how muddled I can get.

There's a great kids' book called Millions, written by Frank Boyce. It's about two young British boys who found a bag of money and had to figure out whether to spend it, how, and on what. Eventually it was made into a movie, and my library purchased it. So I decided to bring it home on Friday and watch it. All good so far. In the opening conversation between the boy and his dad, I understood exactly 0% of what they said. Curt didn't fare any better. The boy's voice is kinda high, and he mumbles a little. Maybe that's why we missed it. We re-wound it and watched the scene again. Nope. Nothing. This movie takes place in Northern England and is about a low-income family, and their accent is absolutely unintelligible to us. There seems to be a lack of consonants in their speech. We finally resorted to subtitles. I'm so ashamed. We had to watch an ENGLISH movie with subtitles!

Also this weekend, there was the national spelling bee going on in Washington DC. Curiously, a New Zealand girl had qualified to compete, and it was a big news story around the country. I didn't even realise that the American spelling bee allowed kids from other English-speaking countries, but I guess they do. It seems like it would be a bit of a disadvantage for her because there are so many things spelled differently (like manoeuvre and kerb) that she had to learn. There are also words that sound significantly different (like furor in US = furore in NZ which has 3 syllables fyur-OR-ee). And she has to be able to understand the word that the judges are saying. That actually turned out to be easier than the judges being able to understand what SHE was saying.

The Kiwi girl made it beyond the preliminary rounds and into the televised finals, where the judges constantly struggled to understand her. For instance, they couldn't tell if she was spelling a word with a G or a J. G/GEE in NZ sounds a lot like J/JAY because E sounds like A. The judges kept asking her to repeat it. She'd say JAIE - or something like that - and they were stumped. Finally, they asked her to give them another word that starts with the same letter. She said giraffe. Ah hah! She was spelling with a G after all. The New Zealand news was having great fun with the judges' ignorance. They interviewed Kiwi schoolmates who all agreed she'd clearly said JAIE and why couldn't the judges get it?

The third incident happened at my school (which is named Diocesan School, but often called Dio for short). One of the teachers came in to the library to do some photocopying and struck up a conversation with us:
Teacher: Do you have a Dio beer in the library?
Lara, a fellow librarian answers: Nah.
Teacher: I have one beer, but I need about 4.
(I look puzzled)
Lara: Where'd you get yours?
Teacher: A parent of a student gave it to me.
(I'm still looking puzzled)
Teacher: I was going to be teaching a unit on storytelling, and thought it might be fun to use Dio beer.
(I'm extremely puzzled)
Lara: I think there's one downstairs in the office, though.
Teacher: Yeah. Theirs is all dressed up in school colours.
(I am beyond puzzled now)
Teacher: Remember when they were taking pictures of the beer and emailing to everyone?
Lara: People who dress up their beer must be sick.
Teacher: You sure have a funny look on your face, Megan.
Me: I'm still trying to figure out what this conversation is about. Usually if I listen long enough, I can use the context to fill in the blanks. But I'm lost. Are you talking about Dio beer???
Teacher and Lara, laughing hysterically: No, a Dio BEAR! You know, a stuffed teddy bear with the school insignia!

As you can tell, I'm still not quite fluent in Kiwi. But I did have a small success recently: I commented on the lovely scones that we had for morning tea, and Lucy said I pronounced it exactly right! (I've only been practising every Monday morning tea for the last 10 months!) Scone in Kiwi is pronounced about halfway between SCUHN and SCONN. And I did it right. Once.

Mueseum/ Mother's Day

We had another busy weekend with Nolan and Erica. Saturday we went to the Auckland Museum. Sunday was Mother's Day. Then my birthday was 2 days after that. Busy week.

1. We went to the Auckland Museum, a huge building with a brand new dome addition. I always get lost in there. The museum's displays include nature, culture and history, but Erica liked the nature stuff the best (naturally). There were all sorts of plants and animals, including fish. There were also plenty of gross-looking bugs. Nolan liked the wetas the best (naturally). There was even a giant stuffed moa - an ostrich-sized flightless bird that was hunted to extinction once humans arrived. We all liked the Maori display, especially the giant waka (canoe) and the elaborately carved marae (meeting house) that you could walk into (if you take your shoes off first). I liked the historical displays (naturally) about WWI, Gallipoli, and WWII. It was only 2.5 weeks since ANZAC Day, and there were still wreaths on the memorials and red poppies affixed to the marble wall listing lost soldiers' names.

Everyone's favourite, however, was the volcano exhibit. Curt and I are from Washington, the home state of Mt St Helens, so we have a long history with volcanoes. In 1980, we heard the BOOM, even though we were 200 miles away from the big blast. Then from 2001-2005, we had a great view of Mt St Helens out the picture window of our house in Portland where we could watch the mountain every time it decided to wake up and spew some more, which happened every 6-12 months.

In the museum's exhibit, we sat in a fake living room while watching fake news of an impending eruption in Auckland's bay. The news showed people evacuating the city, and experts evaluating the latest seismograph. There was footage of steam coming out of the bay, and then there was a huge KABOOM! The fake living room shook and nearly scared the pants off me. The lights went out and the TV screen went black. Looking out the living room's fake window, you could see the eruption, the destruction, and the ash. It was quite realistic and rather sobering. Auckland is built on 50 volcanic cones, after all.

After getting our thrills at the museum, we went to Devonport for fish and chips, with a slight detour to Devonport Chocolates (naturally). And another detour for crappuccinos (naturally).

2. Sunday was Mother's Day, which (naturally) is not a very big deal around our house because Curt doesn't want to make any holiday a big deal. He doesn't get me a present or a card or anything. (This explains why I was determined to make my 50th birthday a bigger deal by buying tickets to Fiddler on the Roof and by planning a party for myself.) Happily, this year Mother's Day was a little more special than usual because Nolan and Erica were here. I made them come to church because it was Mother's Day. Lots of people wanted to talk with them afterwards. Everyone at church always makes them feel special. That evening, Erica made salmon for dinner and it was excellent (naturally). And they got me a card. Then we watched Heavenly Creatures, which is a great NZ film, but probably not a good choice for Mother's Day because the characters in the movie kill their mother. I just hope Nolan doesn't get any ideas.

Sydney, day 6

Today we are heading to the beach town of Manly, which involves taking a ferry from Circular Quay. This is our substitute for a tourist-style tour of Sydney Harbour since we're too cheap to pay for a ride on a real tour boat. We like ferries better. We walk along the pedestrian corso that links Manly ferry terminal (which faces west to Sydney Harbour) to Manly beach (which faces east to the Tasman Sea). There's even an arts & crafts market going on today that we peruse. Curt's mildly interested in buying some shorts while we're here, but honestly, we're just not very good shoppers. I have a Kiwi friend who came to Sydney with her two teenage daughters specifically to shop for a week. They'd be disappointed to hear how much shopping we've done on this trip, which is next to nothing. I'm pretty much a failure at being a shopper. It's just not in me.

As we wander down Manly's beach, Curt finds a modern sculpture to sketch. It looks a lot like the sculptures along the boardwalk in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico (which he also sketched). I dutifully assume my role, sitting on some rocks, dangling my feet in the water, and reading a book. Ahhh. That's what vacations are all about. I'm well into my second book already, and brought along a third one just in case.

After the sketch, we walk farther to Shelly Beach which is even nicer and more secluded than Manly beach. Despite our aforementioned ineptitude at shopping, Curt scores a major success at a small gift shop near Shelly Beach that happens to have a perfect black ceramic pot for our bomb collection. Before you report us to the elite anti-terrorism squad, let me tell you the story of our bomb collection: My brother gave us a black ceramic pot for Christmas 18 years ago, and as we opened the box, it looked just like the size and shape of a cartoon-type bomb (but without a fuse). One of our boys cried out, "Cool! Uncle Scott gave us a bomb!" Uncle Scott immediately zoomed to the top of the list of best uncles ever, because what could be better for Christmas than a genuine bomb when you're 8 years old? Ever since then, we've called that pot our "bomb", and we began to collect matching black pottery bombs on our all travels. We have to be extra careful these days not to call our pottery a bomb in the airport as in "Do you have the bomb in your carry-on honey?" or "Don't let the bomb break." This kind of slip-up could have catastrophic consequences.



After securing our most important purchase of the trip, we climb some steep steps to a lookout over North Head. It has another stunning view of the Tasman. We keep following more trails, through a hole in a rock wall, and ultimately into a couple of dead ends. We've been walking for 90 minutes now, without knowing where we are or where we're going. We are utterly lost. I have visions of us stranded in the bush for days. With no water. It's HOT out.

Who will ever report us missing? Nobody will even notice our absence until Curt doesn't show up for work Jan 8. I'm convinced we'll get bit by a poisonous spider or attacked by endangered bandicoots (whatever they are). I can see the headlines now: STUPID AMERICAN TOURISTS' BODIES FINALLY FOUND or STUPID AMERICAN TOURISTS LOST IN THE BUSH WITHOUT WATER. Well, we eventually find our way back to civilisation, head towards the ferry terminal and get some nice cold water. And chocolate milk for you-know-who. So I guess we won't be headlines this time.


After that sweaty, nail-biting adventure, I'm ready for something safe. We take the ferry back to the city with three objectives: 1) Salad Nicoise 2) shorts for Curt 3) a movie.

1) Allow me to explain - Curt has been hankering for Salad Nicoise for days. We keep stopping at every restaurant and reading every menu, but can never find Salad Nicoise. (We actually do find it on one menu, but it's at a restaurant that is closed for 2 weeks during the holidays. Drat.) Don't ask me why he's so obsessed with finding Salad Nicoise, but he is. It's like he's pregnant or something and is having cravings. In the end, we settle for tasty exotic salads at David Jones Food Hall and I promise to make him Salad Nicoise when we get home to NZ.













2) We successfully purchase some shorts and two shirts for Curt so I guess we can say we did some shopping here after all. He did, anyway. The shorts are khaki, and the shirts are white and ... white. You have no idea how many white shirts he already owns! He's such an engineer. He wears white shirts and keeps a pen in his pocket - even while he's on vacation. I kid you not. Luckily, it's part of his charm.

3) At the cinemas, I want to go see The Queen. Curt thinks it's about Diana's death and he hates all that "pseudo-celebrity schlock" as he calls it.
Me: "But it's not about Diana's death. It's about the queen's reaction. And Tony Blair's."
Curt: "Mmm hmm." (pause) "Let's see what time James Bond begins"
Fortunately, James Bond doesn't start for 90 minutes and The Queen starts right now! So we buy the popcorn (this step is absolutely essential) and go watch The Queen. Even Curt likes it.

We end our night with a train-bus ride back to the hotel, and polish off the semi-melted ice cream bars we have in the room's mini-fridge that supposedly includes a freezer section but these ice cream bars aren't exactly frozen anymore. Still, that doesn't stop me. I eat it with a spoon. Tastes fine.

Boxing Day/Sydney, day 2

There's a big yacht race from Sydney to Hobart that begins today so the harbour is full of boats watching and escorting the yachts. It's quite a sight.

I happen to have a perfect view of all the boats because I am sitting ever-patiently while Curt does a watercolour sketch of the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Yesterday, we scoped out a perfect spot for him to sit and sketch, which always must include some shade to sit in. He eventually chose a spot on the lawn of the Botanic Gardens under a giant tree, with some curious ibis birds who keep him company. So today as he settles in for the next 60-90 minutes, it's my job to 1) keep myself occupied 2) keep admirers from bothering him 3) swat bugs away 4) go fetch some lunch or cold drinks occasionally and 5) don't try to talk to him because he's too zoned out to have a conversation while he's painting. I love this part of our travels because if affords me the opportunity to lie around and read a book or maybe even catch a short snooze, two of my very favourite activities. When I'm feeling really sassy, I offer my opinion of his work-in-progress, such as "I think it needs a little more purple." That always goes over well.

Once the masterpiece is complete (and it's ALWAYS a masterpiece), we walk through more of the Botanic Gardens and are especially creeped out by the zillions of bats hanging from the trees in one area! Eewww.

Then we are even more disturbed by the crowds on the streets. In contrast to yesterday, the streets are absolutely packed today. Boxing Day is traditionally a day of huge post-Christmas sales and all the stores that were closed yesterday when we walked through the ghost town called Sydney are now open and full of throngs of bargain hunters. The Pitt St. pedestrian mall is shoulder-to-shoulder. Good grief. We duck into David Jones department store and head to the 7th floor to look at digital cameras. There's even a queue to get on the escalators, but as we go higher at least the crowds thin out.

The reason we're looking for a digital camera is that I broke ours last week: I inserted a memory card but then couldn't get it out. Eventually I yanked it out in 2 pieces and after that, I couldn't get any other (unbroken) memory cards to go in. After looking at repair costs, we decided to buy a new camera.

Once we finished our mission on the 7th floor, we went to the Food Hall in the basement for dinner, then off to the cinema to see a chick flick: The Holiday. Isn't it sweet that Curt agreed to go to a chick flick rather than making me go see James Bond? For the last 20 years, whenever we went to a family movie, I always got outvoted by the 5 men in my life (4 sons and a husband) and we always seemed to end up going to a testosterone-laden movie like James Bond. It's nice now that there's only two of us and I get to choose the movie occasionally.

Finally, we end up back at the hotel so he can rub my feet, like he does every night. What a guy.

Across the miles

It's kinda weird being overseas for Christmas. I definitely notice when my Christmas experience isn't the same as it used to be. For instance, I notice that there's only one present under the tree. This is because a) there's only two of us here and b) one of us is morally opposed to Christmas shopping. I already bought presents for our 4 boys, my mom, and my two brothers' families, and mailed them by Dec. 4. Done and dusted. I got Curt an olive tree for Christmas which he already found (six-foot trees are notoriously difficult to hide). The boys won't be mailing any cards or presents to us because they're boys and because they're always broke. My mom says she sent me a package and it might be here by Valentine's Day. I don't know if my brothers are sending us anything. Probably not. And Curt? Well. I gave up on that years ago. So we have exactly one present under our tree. It's from our neighbour. It's small and round and light. I'm guessing it's a Christmas ornament or something like that. Oh wait, all the choir members got a little present from the minister this morning. but I already opened mine and ate it because it was chocolate. Mmmm.

Also, it's Christmas Eve already and we only have 8 Christmas cards. One is from the postie (mailman). One is from the realty company that sold us the house (not very personal). One came with the present from our neighbour. One is from a church family. And we have four cards from relatives in America: my mom, two uncles, and Curt's brother. That's it. It's pretty sad when an email from your credit card company wishing you a happy holiday is the highlight of your day. Come on, people!! You'd think we died or something. No, we're very much alive. And we sent Christmas cards to all our friends and relatives back in the States including our address. Well, fine. I won't let it make me feel too sorry for myself because I don't associate the number of cards we receive with how many people love me. Really.

Besides presents and cards, here's a few other differences I've experienced:
• Christmas pud (pudding), Christmas cake, and mince tarts are traditional Christmas treats here. The closest American traditional Christmas food might be the ubiquitous fruitcake/brick, but even that is more of a joke than an actual food that is consumed. As for mince tarts, Curt was a bit confused when we were given 12 little mince pies by our neighbour. You see, in NZ "mince" usually refers to ground beef. So he thought we got 12 little meat pies. But actually, they're minced pecans and raisins and brown sugar ... what Americans would call mincemeat pie. (and that fact that mincemeat has the word "meat" in it when there's no meat in it just makes it doubly confusing!)

• I used to wear Christmas sweaters all the time in December in the States. But here, it's too hot to be wearing sweaters in December (besides which they're called jumpers). Trust me, I tried. Once. I wore my Christmas sweater to church last week and thought I'd be OK because it's always freezing in that big old building early in the morning. But by the time church was over, I was roasting, and I had to strip off a layer in the car on the way home. Let's say I learned my lesson.

• Stores and offices close for a few weeks during the holidays. Curt's engineering company will be closed from Dec 22-Jan 8. There's nobody in the office. No engineers, no bosses, no secretaries. I thought maybe a few guys might go in to catch up on a project that's behind schedule, since they've been getting flack for it being so late. But no. The clients understand that nobody is going to do any work over the next 2 weeks. NOBODY. I also went to my favourite bakery to buy my favourite bran muffins but they were closed from Dec 23-Jan 17! The American/capitalist in me wonders how a business can afford to go without income for that long. But the newly emerging Kiwi in me says "good on them" for realising that time off is more important than money!

• Since Christmas happens during everyone's summer vacation, people's holiday traditions tend to involve being gone at the beach house or being gone camping. I don't think there's the same notion that you need to be HOME for holidays. Our neighbours left on the 20th for 3 weeks at their vacation house in Whitianga. They must have taken along all the presents and will open them there. Do they also take along the stockings? I wonder if they put up a tree at the vacation house?

• I haven't heard as much Christmas music playing in the grocery stores, malls, doctor's offices, etc. In Portland, there was even a radio station that played ALL Christmas music from December 1-December 25. There's really not that much good Christmas pop music around, so you can imagine that a lot of the airtime was filled up with tunes like Jingle Bell Rock performed by Neil Diamond or Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire sung by 'N Sync.

It's also weird to see how my Christmas experience is still the same as it used to be:
• For instance, last night we watched National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation with Chevy Chase. That was always a favourite holiday movie with our family especially when Clark Griswald put a gazillion lights on his house.

• Speaking of lights, people do decorate their houses here, but not nearly as many because ... 1. It's summer and it doesn't get dark until quite late. 2. Most people go away camping for Christmas so they're not home anyway. 3. Christmas isn't as over-the-top commercialized as it is in the US. The local newspaper showed photos of a few of the more decorated houses, but I couldn't help but be thankful that NONE of them had Santa flying The Traditional Christmas Helicopter or riding The Traditional Christmas Alligator like my next door neighbour in Portland had on his roof. I am not making this up.

• People still do PLENTY of shopping, and still worry about what to get their sister-in-laws, etc. Men still put off the shopping until the last minute and still don't know what to buy. Some things are universal.

Overall, the Christmas experience is definitely different here. Some parts are better than in the US - like the weather - and some parts are worse - like not being with family. If the sun comes out, we may go walk along the beach promenade like we did last night. If not, I think I'll make some popcorn and watch sappy Christmas movies and open my present. I can't decide if I'm sad or not ... but I think I am a little. I miss the family.

School Starts

STUDENTS: Well, my school started this week and I'm just getting to know all the kids. I have about a dozen Maori and Pacific Island kids (Samoa, Fiji, etc.) plus 3 Korean, 2 Chinese, 2 Indian, 1 Cambodian, 1 South African, 1 Dutch, 1 Australian, and 1 token American teacher. That's lots of diversity for a class of 29 students! The personalities of 12- and 13-year-olds are pretty much the same all over the world. A few are too chatty. A few are shy. Some have very low skills and can barely read or write. Some have terrible home lives. Some are extremely active in sports. So far their behavior has been mixed. I was ready to wring their little necks on the 3rd day, but they were lots better on the 4th day. They're just testing me. I'll have to whip them into shape. :)

MISS: All the students call their female teachers "Miss." As in, "Sorry, Miss." or "Yes, Miss." It's sweet. It reminds me of the Spanish students calling me Maestra.

PLANNING: I ran out of things to teach after two days of beginning-of-the-year stuff. The container isn't here yet so I was just making things up ... with mixed success. I was frantically staying up till 11:00 every night trying to plan for the next day, just surviving day-to-day. I hate that. Luckily, I had some time this weekend to plan for the coming week so I feel better. (I even had time to watch the Olympics opening ceremony, and time to write this blog entry.) And supposedly, the ship with our container is arriving the day after tomorrow. My fingers are crossed.

SINGING: Mrs. Baker will like this: Every week there is an all-school singing assembly where the principal plays the piano and the kids all sing along. If they're not singing out loud enough, she makes them start over. It's kinda cute seeing everyone (boys included) singing at the top of their lungs. So far, we've sung Daydream Believer and Lean On Me, old 70's songs. I would have expected folk songs or something. Oh well. I love to sing, regardless. I also told the principal that I play flute and she's eager for me to accompany her, once my flute arrives.

SPORTS DAY: On Friday we had a big sports day to celebrate the end of the first week back. The Deputy Principal is a volunteer fireman so he brought a fire truck and aimed the hose in a big arch and the kids ran under it and through it and got all wet. (remember, it's summer here) They had a blast. There were also relays and tug-o-war and other fun stuff. Perhaps Mr. Foote should get a fire truck to come for Alder Creek's 8th Grade Day?

FITNESS: There's an all-school fitness program 3 mornings a week for 30 minutes. (Kiwis are REALLY sports-minded) I'm in charge of taking 30 kids on a power walk. My job is to make sure none of the kids allow this 48-year-old lady to pass them.

PE: By the way, Schroeder, Kiwi kids always do PE & Fitness barefoot! They have their PE classes outside in the grass almost every day. They only get rained out once or twice a month and have to go in the Assembly Hall instead.


LUNCH: Lunch also takes place outside. First, the kids all sit under the trees for 10 minutes to eat, Then they have to clean up. Then they are released to play around for the rest of the hour while 2 staff monitor the grounds. There's no cafeteria, no kitchen, and no hot lunch served in any New Zealand schools.

SUN PROTECTION: They are required to wear hats for protection from the sun. It's funny to me because I'm used to kids getting in trouble for wearing hats. Here they get in trouble for NOT wearing hats. Ha. I also have to be a good role model and wear a hat when I'm leading the power walk, etc.


MOVIE MAKING: I also found out that they're making a movie version of the book Bridge to Terabithia, a young adult novel that lots of kids have read. They're filming it here in New Zealand, and actually it's happening less than 5 miles away. Some of my students are getting paid $100/day to be extras in the film. They are playing fellow classmates of the 2 main characters. The 2 stars are both American kids, but the extras are Kiwi kids.

Avondale Spiders

New Zealand is known for having absolutely no snakes and hardly any spiders (compared to Australia where there are thousands of deadly creatures everywhere you turn). But we managed to move to the one neighbourhood in Auckland (Avondale) that is known for its large, hairy spider. Who knew.

Apparently, the Avondale spider is quite famous in the spider world because it was the species that was used in the movie Arachnophobia. They're up to 8 inches across and pretty hairy, but entirely harmless (so they say). That made it perfect for scaring the pants off the audience, but not endangering the actors during filming. Still, I'm hoping never to see one personally.


Avondale seems to have embraced its reputation as a spider town. There is a large spider sculpture (named Dale ... get it? ... AvonDALE?) in the town square, which has become a local landmark.





And the Avondale school uses the spider as its mascot.





Here's what the NZ scientists say about the AVONDALE SPIDER:
Delena cancerides Walckenaer
(Araneae: Sparassidae)

The large harmless spider found around the Avondale area of Auckland is an Australian huntsman spider. This spider found its way to New Zealand in the early 1920s, with the first specimen found in 1924. It probably came in imported wood used for railway sleepers. It has not spread very far from Avondale, so it has received the popular name of Avondale Spider. In South Australia this species is quite common, and people encourage them to live in their houses to keep the pest insect population down.

Where found
They are nocturnal and like to hide during the day in dark, dry places. In their natural habitat, which is under loose-fitting bark of wattle trees, they live in large colonies. Around houses they hide in attics, under corrugated iron, behind pictures and bookcases, and in sheds and garages.

Food
These spiders are fascinating to watch. They sit motionless on walls and then rush after prey. They very quickly devour prey, sucking all the juices out and discarding the hard outer pieces. Their favourite foods seem to be moths, flies, cockroaches, and earwigs.

Size
The first reaction of most people on finding Avondale spiders is usually horror. The spiders move very fast when disturbed (as do people when frightened!). Mature spiders with legs outstretched can measure up to 200 mm across (8”).

Life history
The mature males are frequent visitors inside houses in the months January to March when they are looking for a female to mate with. Females are capable of laying up to 200 green eggs in an oval-shaped, white papery-looking egg sac about 25 mm long (1”) by 12 mm wide (1/2”). Females guard their egg sac, and after 4-6 weeks open this up to enable the spiderlings to hatch. They will look after the spiderlings for a few more months until they disperse. Spiderlings will feed communally if the prey is too big for them to manage on their own.

by Grace Hall
Landcare Research