Catlins, Central Otago: Light Tramps, A lot of Food, and Camping

Kiwi Slang lesson six: car parts, expressions and swearing!

bonnet (noun): hood of the car.

boot (noun): trunk of a car.

"oh my giddy aunt!" (expression) pronounced "oh my gidday ah nt" : similar to "oh my gosh!" or "I can't believe that happened!" or "holy cow!".

"no worries" (expression): meaning many things, from "you're welcome" to "no big deal", to "no problem".

wanker (noun): a derogatory word for a person who is a jerk.

bloody (adjective): a popular swear word, used to express frustration, anger, or annoyance.

Person 1: The boot and the bonnet of our car won't shut, so I've tied them with rope.

Person 2: Aw yeah, how'd that happen?

Person 1: Another car crashed into us and then floored off before we could get it's bloody license plate!

Person 2: Oh my giddy aunt! What a wanker!

Person 1: Luckily though, I'm insured; so, no worries.

* * *

Before Simon and I headed out Sunday night for Balclutha to visit Simon's parents, we went to LoneStar. LoneStar is an Elvis-themed, "South of the [American] border" restaurant. It's always funny to see American themed restaurants in NZ, especially when they're not totally aware of the theme. After a huge dinner of chicken burritos and vegetarian nachos, we hopped in Anthony (my car) and rode to Balclutha.

Simon's parents were excited to see us, and after spending a night hanging out with their golden retriever puppy, Amber (that name is way too close to "Abi"), and having a few glasses of wine, we were ready to get on the road again. Simon drove us into the Catlins where we stopped at "Jack's Blowhole". This was a little tramp through paddocks with incredible views of the east coast (think: major cliffs, huge waves, idyllic scene). After walking for awhile we saw it: this enormous crevice/precipice where water tunneled through 300 meters of rock- actually it was still pummeling through. Pretty incredible.

Afterward, Simon and I walked back through the rain and hail (it had been a beautiful day) with our coats over our heads. We drove a bit farther until we came to Surat Bay, once again the weather had turned beautiful for a moment. We managed to hike through beautiful dunes until we got to a beach boasting sea lions. Although we didn't see any sea lions, we did catch the beginning and end of a major storm. To get to the beach you have to race between huge waves (tide coming in), and these massive, vertical dunes. Unluckily for Simon and I an enormous storm came in over the ocean. We managed to keep beach walking until the storm passed, but it was definitely intense being in the "eye" of the storm on the beach.

Si and I then decided we wanted to camp in Central Otago (we were in the Catlins- Southland), a few hours away. The weather is normally really warm in Central Otago because it's not on the coast. After about a half hour of driving, we were passing huge sheep paddocks with tiny lambs. One of these tiny lambs had somehow gotten out of the barbed fenced paddock and was searching, and crying, for a way back in to it's mom. Simon and I parked the car and attempted to corner this little, crazed lamb. After about three failed attempts (this was one athletic and stubborn lamb!), Simon somehow managed to corner the lamb, pick it up, and drop it in the paddock. The lamb ran willy-nilly across the field and the child-parent reunion was complete! Very cute. I definitely had images of returning home for Christmas going through my mind!

After high-fiving for about ten minutes, Simon and I were back on the road. The Post Office at Clyde (Emily you'll remember this) was turned into a beautiful cafe that we ate dinner at. Completely full of local veggies, and berry cobbler, Simon and I sat on a bench outside and enjoyed the setting sun. Finally, realizing that we needed to find a campground before complete sunset, we drove around the edge of the mountains surrounding Clyde. Beginning to panic (a lot of paddocks were private property), we were about to give up hope and camp by the side of the road, when we actually stumbled upon a legitimate camping ground. A very, very "dodgy" camping ground mainly filled with broken down trailers. We ended up camping by a stream nearby, away from the creepy rusting, smoking trailers. After a night of Simon's symphonic snoring, we were ready to go at eight AM (Simon was ready at 5:30, but I gave him a death glare, so he took a walk instead).

It was a beautiful morning, about 65 degrees F. After a quick bite to eat in Alexandra, we drove all the way back to Dunedin, feeling really good about our trip. I took a huge nap when we got back, and then made enchiladas for the flat. It's been a good "weekend" for me, and I'm (sort of, kind of, okay not really, but trying to be) ready to go back to work tomorrow.

Anyway, happy days to all of you! Hope that everything is well in the States and otherwise!

Cheers,

Abi

The Last Few Months: Mt. Cook, Milford, 21sts, and Moeraki

Kiwi Slang lesson #4 (0r #5?)

hungus: noun (pronounced hun-guss)

someone who eats more than they should.

quite: (adverb? unsure on this one...)

added onto something it either means "a little" or "a lot" (VERY CONFUSING).

completely contextual.

wee: (another adverb... maybe)

little

gutted: verb (emotive descriptor)

to be upset by something.

knackered: verb (emotive descriptor)

to be very tired, almost falling asleep.

example:

Person A: Simon is such a hungus, he eats us out of house and home!

Person B: Aw yeah, I was quite gutted when he ate all of the chocolate chips I had just bought.

Person A: I'm completely knackered from running to the grocery store every morning!

Person B: Do you think he'll be too upset if we tell him about this?

Person A: Nah, only a wee bit. He'll just keep eating anyway.

Hope that you've used the break from my posting to get on your Kiwi slang, ay?

I know it's been awhile, and I really have pretty much no excuse, so for that I apologize.

Here's a brief summary of what I've been up to in the months I've been away from this blog (next blog will include pictures, I promise...).

September:

In the beginning of September management changed at the Mannequin. Jana and Nigel (the old owners) moved/are moving to Australia, and Eric and his wife Gaye became the new owners. Eric is sort of a senile Austin Powers, consistently traipsing through the Mannequin with a tea towel over his shoulder singing old songs like "Sophie's Mother" or "Mona Lisa" (is that song by Frank Sinatra?), and telling customers things like "are you being served" or "let's go shopping!". I am now one of the "old workers" as opposed to the newbie. I'm still pretty new to hospitality, but it's gotten consistently, for the most part, better.

I took a trip to Christchurch (where Simon's sister Marijke lives) and Mt. Cook (Maori: Aoraki) with Simon in early September. It was completely incredible. We went to Hanmer Springs (the hot pools are beautiful, warm, and like saunas, especially in the rain). We decided on a whim to visit Mt. Cook. One minute we were on a beach basking in the early-spring sun, and the next we were at a snow field. For some reason I didn't imagine that Mt. Cook would be that far away from the East Coast of New Zealand... whoops. It took us a few hours, and I was still in my swimsuit when we found ourselves in a few feet of snow by a lodge.

The next morning we woke up and took a tramp through this beautiful completely pristine wonderland. Thankfully I had brought my hiking boots, but had no coat, so I just layered up like a fat marshmallow, and we set out. It's impossible to explain how amazing the end of the tramp was: ten people sitting in front of a huge frozen lake, and these enormous mountains, listening for avalanches. Amazing.

Simon and I took an awesome trip to Milford Sound for my birthday. We drove to Te Anau (which I still can't pronounce), had a look around, and then drove to Milford on the same day. It was a little rainy, but the fiords were still completely remarkable (look to next post for some serious pictures). We ate dinner at a pool hall out there (the only restaurant in kilometers) and then set up a tent a little ways away. After we set up our tent Simon gave me a slice of birthday cake he had hidden away (very sweet (oh man, I'm puny)), and we ate it together. Because our two man tent was more like a half man tent with Simon's 6'6 frame, we put the box outside. Ten minutes later we heard noises all around our tent. Simon, being the manly man he is, was convinced a serial killer had tracked us down. Opening up the flap of the tent incredibly cautiously we peeked out to spot a Kea (New Zealand alpine parrot) with my birthday cake box in its beak! So basically, I shared my 22nd birthday cake with a Kea.

The next morning we took a few walks, looked around at waterfalls, and then set out for home. Stopping at Balclutha to fuel up and see Simon's parents (and Roy), I was surprised by birthday cupcakes! All in all it was a very good (as in baked goods) weekend.

October:

I had a few 60 hour weeks at work in October leaving me with little time to do much else (other than sleep). I went to a few 21sts, which are a big deal in New Zealand. Dozens of people are invited to huge parties, where the main focal point is the birthday person taking 21 shots or a "yardie" of beer (about 9 beers) in a short amount of time. Before that, influential people from that person's life give teasing speeches normally about how the birthday person has been drunk, or can't drive, or was caught naked in a public place... etc. etc. Basically your 21st birthday is complete humiliation. I have a theory that this is part of the "tall poppy" syndrome in New Zealand. Basically, Kiwis don't like anyone getting too cocky or confident, you're part of a national community first and foremost. So, if you do end up getting too confident in what you do, or too good at what you do, everyone else cuts you down (you are, in essence too "tall" of a "poppy"). 21sts sort of work the same way, "you're finally an adult! time to feel complete and utter degradation!".

As an American, I don't really get it.

Another real New Zealand thing is barbecuing (especially sausages and eggs). Sarah, one the chefs at the Mannequin, had a barbecue sometime in early October. Shaun, the head chef, Andy, the kitchenhand who goes to uni for Finance and wants to marry me to get a green card so he can move to New York City and become a Wall Street giant (the news hasn't affected abroad optimism apparently, haha Andy), and a few of Sarah's flatmates were there. I ate a lot of meat (as the token vegetarian) and fell asleep on Sarah's couch watching Outrageous Fortune. Very Kiwi of me.

A few weeks later Simon and I went to Sarah's 21st. I will soon post pictures of her doing a yardie with foam all over her face. Then you'll be able to see the New Zealand drinking culture firsthand! It was a really fun party, with backyard cricket (I got severely reprimanded for treating it like baseball), heaps of sausages, and, of course, American music in the background (like "Born in the USA", an awkward moment for me). Cromwell is a beautiful town surrounded by snow-tipped mountains and a gorgeous lake.

Also in October, I skied "the Remarkables" (the mountains in Lord of the Rings). Simon drove me up the last weekend of skiing. We slept in the car in Arrowtown, woke up to take the "Millennium Walk" around the aqua-ish river there. After some crepes for breakfast (a French couple opened the shop, the diversity here is wild), it was time to go to Queenstown for skiing. Powdery, warm, and sunny, it was a moment I'm going to remember for a long, long time. It felt like being in a movie, skiing with these incredibly views on all sides. I felt like I was going to pee in my pants on the drive up there, no rails on the roads (sorry, Mom). It was worth it for the incredible day though. I had a sunglasses burn for about two weeks, but that, too, was worth it.

At the end of October Simon and I went to the Moeraki Boulders. The Boulders are pretty uninteresting, they are basically huge circular rocks that were maybe carried there, maybe not, by indigenous people. Sorry to seem uncultured, but I wasn't as impressed as the other tourists there who snapped about 100 pictures from each angle. At the end of the day, the sunny beach was nice, but I don't think I'm able to talk up the dozen rocks like they're the Babylonian Gardens. However, Simon and I did find an incredible seafood restaurant called "Fleur's". This is literally the best seafood I have ever had. The fish of the day is caught by fisherman literally THAT DAY and given to the cafe already filleted by the same fisherman. The views out onto the bay were incredible, the fish was the best I've ever had, and watching the sunset in this little wooden cafe with live music, and Simon was seriously priceless.

Anyway, just a little catch-up for now, soon I will post pictures and I promise to post sooner than the next Millennium!

Love you guys heaps.

Hope all is well in your part of the world,

Abi

Around Town: Mannequin, My Flat, Balclutha, Otago Peninsula.

Kiwi slang lesson 4:

several common words and phrases to use with friends

knackered: the Kiwi version of "tired".

dear: to be incredibly expensive, or of great worth.

snapped: to be caught red-handed

feed: a big meal

ra...ra...ra...: to be compared to the U.S. version of "blah blah blah", an expression used when describing someone who is ranting angrily. Pronounced the same way that cheerleaders in the U.S. yell for teams.

conversation example:

"oy bro, I was quite knackered after that massive feed"

"where did you go to eat?"

"Bacchus, in the Octagon"

"aw yeah? I heard that place was quite dear"

"I reckon bro, I'll be snapped when my mom looks at my credit card statements, 'what were you doing eating there? ra...ra...ra...' "

Once again, I have to apologize for not posting for awhile. These past two weeks have been a blur of little trips to Balclutha, the Peninsula, wine and dinner at the Mannequin chef Shaun's house, bus rides into downtown Dunedin with Sarah, and of course, work.

Here's a collage of pictures: my flat, where I work, and other odds and ends. I hope that you're fitting your Kiwi slang lessons into your day-to-days.

This is 28 Pentland Street! The long awaited tour of my flat commences now! Notice the strange fence/gate in the front, I am at a complete loss to describe it's function. There's Simon coming home from class on his bike. I would tell you to check the scale of our house to Simon's height, but keep in mind Simon's giraffe-like height.

We went to Balclutha for a few nights to visit with Simon's parents last week. Simon's mom made a really delicious pumpkin soup and casserole, and insisted that I sleep in an actual bed and not on the floor. I ended up kicking Roy out of bed, but he was seriously happy to be able to play video games with Simon into the wee hours of the morning. This picture is taken on the street that Simon's parents live on- Boyd Street.

This is the stream behind my house, there's a hiking trail on the right and on the left is my backyard.

This is the hill at the top of my road, Pentland Street, notice the sheep in a line. Every morning before I go to work there are always sheep grazing on the hills around the house. There are a lot of farms, and beautiful houses on the hills around the valley, whereas the valley itself is mainly cheap flats (see above).

This is the street entrance to the Mannequin. I put those signs out everyday I open!
This is the inside of the Mannequin, what I see when I'm working. Because it's winter there isn't much seating outside right now, but in about a month there will be about eight more tables to cover in the sun. This picture was taken at the front of the cafe/bar/restaurant where the seating is higher. 

The conservatory and outdoor seating are seriously treacherous with coffee in hand. A "long black" is made by putting a double shot of espresso on top of just enough hot water; they "go bad" within 30 seconds, so you have to get them to customers fast or re-make them. I ended up tripping outside and almost spilling a customer's long black on his head in my hurry. Woops.
That's where you can see me standing semi-frazzled and incredibly busy on most days of the week. On the left approaching the bar is Jana, my manager. She doesn't look that frightening, but you seriously have to trust me on this one...
Anyone who knows Simon, knows that he's obsessed with food. Here he is with that big grin on eating a filled croissant out front. He's pretty excited.
Once again, another picture taken on the road from Simon's parents house. I asked Simon what those mountains were called and he replied, "Mountains? Abi, those are hills".
The view out the window of 28 Pentland Street. June the cat lady lives two flats to the left. The flat on the immediate left is owned by a Scottish couple- Alex and Kathy. In their mid-40s, they are incredibly kind, and own an enormouscat named "Warlock".


The orange stuff growing on that hill is called "flax" and is a pretty serious rope product used at first by Maori iwis (tribes), but now commercialized nation-wide.

*   *   *

This week Jana told me that she "reckoned" that I was probably the most confident worker they've had at the Mannequin. After I rolled my jaw up off the floor, she told me that she thought it was because I was American. Kiwis are consistently trying to be humble, accommodating, agreeable. Jana and I talked about the difference in cultures, and she said how she "loved America" because "everyone was confident". I thought this was something really interesting to think about; I'm learning a lot here about New Zealand sure, myself obviously, but also (and this is going to sound exasperatingly cheesy) what it really means to be an "American". What are your thoughts on this? What is an American? What do we stand for? Who are we as a people?

Jana's been leaving me alone more and more, which is nice. Another newbie is being hired, so I won't be the new person anymore. When I heard the news that Jana was looking at CVs I literally ran into the kitchen and did a dance in front of Sarah with the soup ladles. I locked up for the first time alone last night. If anything was stolen or broken into I'd be to blame (said Jana), this scared the crap out of me. I almost locked myself into the shop, but at the last minute figured out how to get the deadbolt unlocked and escaped before the alarm went off. In other words: work is actually all right. I know a few "regulars" which is a cool feeling, and I can handle looking after the front of the restaurant myself, which is a relief. 

*   *   *

Other culturally Kiwi things. Every Kiwi that I know is obsessed with the Kiwi drama "Outrageous Fortune" (this was the best youtube clip I could find: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=57bGt0sUhds&feature=related). Sarah from work has insisted that I watch all four seasons as soon as I possibly can in order to actually assimilate to New Zealand life. She let me borrow Season One, and now Simon is addicted. Every time we've both home he asks me eagerly "Outrageous Fortune time?".

*   *   *

I'm feeling a lot more settled down. I have volunteering at the fat duck place tomorrow, which I'm sort of excited about. I also have received my first library fine! You know what that means... I've officially arrived in New Zealand!

Post again soon, this time I mean it.

Hope you are well.

Cheers,

Abi

End of First Month: Little Stories

New Zealand Slang: Lesson 2 

Small ways to make you sound more like a real Kiwi.

1. When you're feeling exasperated put "oy!" in the beginning of your sentences. 

2. Use the terms "mate" or "bro" for a friend (this is not "bro" like frat-boys use it, but a term that is used by most people under 30 in New Zealand). 

3. Instead of saying "I think" or "I agree" say "aw, yeah. I reckon".

4. Instead of saying "great!" or "that's good news!" say "sweet as!".

e.g. "Oy, bro! What time do you get off work?"

"Aw early today; 10:30 I reckon."

"Sweet as, mate!"

*   *   *

I haven't been posting nearly as frequently, which has upset my mother, so I'll continue to post on a more frequent basis now.  The last few weeks have been a blur of work, volunteering, and trying my hand at cooking weird things. 

Although the weather has still been cold, it's been getting more and more sunny which is nice. It's now above freezing, which is sweet as. I'm calling some people about cars in the next few days, and I will definitely (thanks Emily for the charger!) post pictures of the flat, my work and (maybe?) a very old car.

Saturday night at work was (knock on wood) the worst night of my career (as a waitress/barista), hilarious in how completely terrible it was. 

I took the order for 20 people too early before people sat down. I ended up forgetting an order (lamb shank), so our chef had to do it quickly when we figured it out (after everyone got served). I forgot cutlery for almost every table I served. I forgot to clear dishes for tables. 

My manager, Janna, then screamed at me to "USE MORE COMMON SENSE, ABI. SERIOUSLY. IT'S NOT THAT HARD". I basically almost peed my pants with fear.  Then, to top it off, I managed to drop an entire gallon of milk into the freezer where we keep beer on tap. And finally I broke a sugar holder, but hid it, because I didn't want to admit to doing something else wrong. Simon luckily had a bottle of wine waiting for me when I got home. I proceeded to ask him non-stop for the following two hours (hysterically), "do you think I'll get caught for breaking the sugar holder?!".  After falling asleep, I had dreams of, you guessed it, cafes. 

*   *    *

Today I volunteered again at the Botanic Gardens.  Last week I went out to feed the ducks in the morning and they pretty much attacked me, or at least my sneakers- literally pecking them with their fat beaks. I've relegated that job to Margaret now. There are other people who work at the Botanic Gardens too, mainly my parents age. Claire is the manager, she likes to talk about conservation and haircuts with me. Chris is a 67 year old man who comes in to volunteer after me. 

Our conversation today:

"Good morning Chris!"

"I'm sorry Abi, you're going to have to speak up. My hearing aid is blocked by wax!"

Of course I could have said "Chris, that is absolutely disgusting, please tell me they have Q-tips in New Zealand", but before I could he had started rambling about steam engines in the United States. 

I really get a lot out of volunteering here.

*   *   *

I'm either going to take a bus out to the Peninsula tomorrow, or drive with Piet to Balclutha. I'm also planning on giving June the cat lady something that won't kill her (e.g. jellybeans) this week, and maybe go over to her house for a big roast (vegetarian... not anymore!). And of course, the ongoing search for transpo. 

I'll keep all of you updated, sorry for the short sabbatical!

Cheers,

Abi

Week Three: Doing Things "Right", Work and June "the cat lady"

Kiwi slang of the week: 

cruzy (adjective, pronounced crew- zee):

being relaxed, easy to get on with.

example: (my manager, Janna, has a six month old named Archie) "Oh yeah, Archie is a very cruzy baby, he goes to bed at a regular time".

 

*    *    *

I appreciate infinitely people who stack their own plates, wait patiently for me to use an electronic order taker (it's a mini-till I take with me that is beyond annoying), and ask me how I am. I feast on little compliments I get during the day, these are my life buoys that save me from my massive screw-ups that are all too frequent. Saturdays are a little busy. Today couples brought their children to break glasses, pee on chairs, and generally wreak havoc upon the Mannequin. Normally, I work Wednesday through Sunday, some 8 hour, and quite a few 11 or 12 hour days. 

Ever get the feeling you can't do anything quite right? My coffees are too watery and I have to throw them out several times, I forget cutlery for tables, I don't wait on customers or give them their receipts the exact right ways, I forget orders, or have the customer repeat them five times because I can't understand what they're saying.

I fantasize frequently about taking the coffee machine and throwing it out the front window of the store, yelling maniacally at passers-by in a fake-Kiwi accent, and running home to eat a whole bag of chocolate chip cookies.

In short, it's been a rough week.

*    *    *

I've been manning the bar by myself in the mornings. Thursday morning my first customer was a really hungover 20-something year old. While I was making his flat white, he began philosophizing about life and death, and how we "just die". Needless to say, his coffee was a take-away (a "to go"). 

Last night a 30-something year old man named Charlie came in and ordered a few beers. This was a normal circumstance, that is, until he ordered a double shot of whiskey, and I accidentally gave him a quadruple. Charlie rambled on for two hours (hovering over the bar all the while) about how he'd been to the Ghaza Strip, Egypt, and how his father was ashamed to be from Florida. 

Charlie's accent was so thick that he might as well have been speaking French to me. I had no CLUE what he was mumbling about until I heard a proper noun come up: "Disneyland", "Obama", "Helen Clark". He was escorted out of the bar after two more drinks. Yikes.

*   *   *

I was supposed to have tomorrow off to go to Christchurch with Simon, but we have no way of getting there. Saddened that the trip I had been dreaming of was cancelled, I decided to a) make chocolate chip bars with chocolate and coconut on top (instead of throwing the coffee machine out the front of the coffee shop) and b) give some of these bars to June, the cat lady, across the street.

Tonight I went over with three chocolate bars and knocked on her door. Excited to see me, she invited me in, and we had a chat in front of her heater (summary of this so far: I went over to an old woman's house on a Saturday night because my social life is in need of a boost only an 80-something year old can give it).

Our conversation mainly consisted of June's stories about how she used to live next to a crack den (a place where meth is bought and sold (crack is meth in New Zealand I guess, June gave me the heads up)), gossip about the neighbors, and also June's description of how she is DEATHLY ALLERGIC TO CHOCOLATE. June regaled me with tales of spewing (puking) all over her friends toilet when she only inhaled a bit of chocolate, and then of course she ended up in the hospital. 

She had assumed that the bars I brought over were fruit bars, but luckily I took them away after talking for a little while longer, and a kiss on the cheek. 

Talk about not quite getting things right. I could have literally killed June, the cat lady, with kindness.

*   *   *

Tonight I'm making dinner, having a few glasses of wine, and watching a movie. Tomorrow I work from 11:45 until sometime at night. I've got to run errands on Monday, maybe look for some transportation so that Tuesday I'll do something fun.

Anyway, hope all is well with you, and that you're enjoying your weekends.

Cheers,

Abi

Second Week: Eating Lamb's Liver, Abi Makes a Friend, and Other Stories

The "jaffa race" was on Thursday while I was working. "Jaffa"s are like the American jaw-breakers- hard candy balls. Hundreds of people show up to watch hundreds of jaffas race down Baldwin Street (above). Each jaffa has a number on it, whoever wins gets a prize (I think it's a few hundred dollars at an eatery in Dunedin!). If this seems completely bizarre to you, you're not the only one.

Pictured is the race set-up. Traffic started building at 11 o'clock. Our cafe was slammed at around 12:30 after the race. It was a whirlwind of seating people, taking orders, getting water, and making coffee!

Those tiny red dots are all jaffas. As you can see, this is a major event in Dunedin. I, too, feel a little strange about the intensity of a "jawbreaker race"...

*   *   *

I know I don't have many pictures of the flat up yet, but this is a war memorial that's across the street from the opening of Pentland Street (where I live). This gives you a feel for the architecture and the scenery on North Road, the road I'm directly off.  The hills in the background are much more dramatic (I'll post pictures soon, I promise). I see this every morning while walking to work.

*   *   *

Sarah (pronounced Sear-ah) is a practicing chef in the kitchen of the Mannequin, she's 20 years old and is interesting in graphic design. On Saturday night she invited my out for a few drinks. These few drinks turned into going to a night club and dancing with about 10 of her Kiwi friends to American pop music from about ten years ago. I met a few interesting people, including a member of New Zealand's bowling club, a guy my dad's age named Dobby, who talked to me about being a stay-at-home dad, and his wife's nursing practice. 

After being her "wing man" for a few hours, I left her with an Aussie she had a crush on. It was a fun night. It was great to meet her friends, her dad (he was visiting her from Queenstown), and Sarah herself outside of work. 

The next morning, Janna, my manager, had me try "Lamb's Fry" which is actually lamb's liver. My motto in New Zealand is "try anything", but I'm thinking of re-thinking that motto IMMEDIATELY.

Work has been hard. I've worked a few 10 hour shifts that had me reeling, but I'm happy to have today and tomorrow off to recuperate. Anyone who says that working at a cafe is a no-brainer needs to get a job at one for a week (maybe when the jaffa races are on!). 

*   *   *

Today was my first day volunteering at the Botanic Gardens. My partner is a woman from Beijing named Margaret. Margaret still misses Beijing after a few years of living in New Zealand. Her daughter studies dentistry at Otago (she apparently wants to make dentures, Margaret said), and Margaret "takes care of her life". You can tell she misses home a lot, I told her I missed home too.

Margaret is still learning English, so I asked her to teach me a little Chinese. So far I only know how to say "how are you".  I don't know how to say "good", "bad" or "all right", so I won't know how Margaret's doing even when I ask her, but oh well, it's a start. 

Our main job as volunteers is to fill tiny bags with duck food, so people can feed the fat ducks that live in the Botanic Gardens. Today we filled about 200 bags; I asked the manager about statistics on duck obesity, but she didn't have any. I'll have to get back to you on that. 

*   *   *

Now, a little on how I'm feeling being abroad.

A few weeks before I went to New Zealand everyone I knew asked me "Abi, why are you going back to New Zealand". Some people questioned why I was going again- if I wanted to travel why not go somewhere I hadn't been? Others gave me a knowing wink when I said my boyfriend was a Kiwi. Still more wondered if I was running away from reality- "life after college". 

Yesterday a girl named Victoria (a friend of a friend when I was here) came into the cafe and ordered a coffee. When I told her that I had just come back to Dunedin two weeks before, she said "ahh, you came back for love!". 

In a way, Victoria is right, but not for the reasons she imagines she is. 

First and foremost I've come here because I love the ability to be in control of my own destiny; I love the fact that I'm making it on my own in a foreign country. I have a job! I am making friends! I talk to people on the street! I know the name of that used book store owner! I know that there are 48 houses on North Street between our flat and the center of North East Valley! These are tiny things that give me so much satisfaction, these tiny livelihoods remind me that I am fantastically alive. 

Growing up is a fear for millions of young adults, but I am so thrilled to be in charge of my own life. I am excited (and terrified) to count out my change at the grocery store, to bus tables, and debate if I'd like to buy a bike. It's true that I came here for love: a love of growth, change, a wealth of love for the friends that I have in the states and here, the love I have for Simon, and the love I have for my family (albeit, far away right now), and finally, a love for this new independence that I am cultivating.

Coming back to Dunedin is like re-meeting an old acquaintance that quickly becomes your best friend. It is so different to live and work here, rather than study as an American here. I have met one American since I've been here; daily I am surrounded by Kiwis. It's a completely new experience: something incredibly personal and difficult.

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Living in a foreign country is an "adventure", but not because I'm traveling every waking moment, or because I'm "meeting the native people". It's an adventure trying to understand people's accents when they're ordering "fish and chips", or a "long black". It's an adventure meeting June the self-proclaimed "cat lady" across the street, or having a conversation with Claire (the manager at the Botanic Gardens) about nuclear power and New Zealand's attitude towards sustainability. It's an adventure to learn how to properly wash a table, or how to use the electronic cash register, or- whew!- how to make a coffee.

 In this way, all of our lives are adventures, are they not? Even when you do not go abroad, even when you are at "home" being a teacher, a father, a mother, a friend, a grocery-store manager, a social worker, an accountant, unemployed, or a student, every day is an adventure, and being abroad is just a mindset.

These are my adventures this time around, the everyday sort that you have to put your sweat and blood into, and they prove- in many ways- to be more challenging than ones I've had before, but incredibly gratifying at the same time. 

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Overall, this week has been a lot of learning to make coffee, trying new things (gross new things), and trying to understand heavy accents. I'll keep you updated in the coming days. Hopefully tomorrow I'll get my IRD number (like a social security number in New Zealand), so I can actually get paid, and maybe I'll get some transportation going soon, so I can travel outside of the North East Valley and Dunedin. Last night Simon and I walked the full two miles into town to see Harry Potter. Because there are so few theaters in Dunedin, the movie was packed and we had to sit in the front row with our necks bent at a 90 degree angle. I'm still laughing about it.

Hope all is well with you, have a good Sunday or Monday!

Cheers, 

Abi

Taiaroa House: Visiting My Host Family

Right now I'm visiting my host family, a family that I met through "Operation Friendship" a year ago. They live on the Otago Penninsula, about 30 minutes out of downtown Dunedin. I took the bus to get here (man, bus fares are high here!): Broad Bay.

My mom's name is Kat, she's an artist, writer and full-time mom. Her daughters are Arihana (17 years old, great at piano, going to art school next year ), Mackenzie (16 years old, great artist, still in high school, but excited to go to art school maybe), and Zach (12, taller than me almost). Gary (Kat's husband) is home sporadically, and is really nice. They have so many pets/animals: Mango the dog, Space Rocket the cat, another cat (nameless by memory right now), two rats, and four chickens (new!).

That's Mango in the backyard with some of the chickens (I think those are George and Ginger). In the background is Kat's beautiful studio, where we all go to draw and paint. I made a map of the North East Valley, I'll post it soon.

This is where Kat paints, she has beautiful paintings (I had a few of her blocks in my dorm room, now they're around my room at home). She's working on a painting of cows that's really nice, she also writes short stories.

The Otago Penninsula is so much more beautiful than pictures can capture, but this picture and the next were taken from Kat's porch. It was a beautiful, clear day today. That's the other side of the Penninsula: Port Chalmers.

A bit of a block with the power lines, but you can see the silhouette of the hills. I took these pictures really quickly with Kat's camera. Now I'm uploading them upstairs on their home computer.

I can hear the sounds of pots and pans, Kat's voice, dinner, from upstairs. Hana's piano playing fills the stairwell, a song from Amelie. It makes me think about my family (hi mom and dad, sam and ryan, miss you guys).

The inside of Kat's house is all art, white planks, beautiful pictures. The road to get here is incredibly curvy and without gates. Their house is like a magic cottage on a beautiful hill, I love visiting them.

This is Mackenzie (Mac) with her rat Moki. I french braided Mac's hair today.

The girls doing a little art in the window, as the sun sets.

Well, thought it might be nice to have a few pictures. Hopefully there will be some of the flat up soon. Have to go help with dinner, it's been a wonderful day. Tomorrow, work starts.

Love to all of you.

Cheers,

Abi