Northern Exposures

So I managed to convince my friend Rebecca that it would be a good idea to take a long weekend driving around Northland, despite our copious workloads. (I've been in a 3-month long denial about this work, so this trip fit nicely into my current mind-state).



Our first stop was Leigh, a small coastal town, home to a marine reserve and lab, for a party to celebrate Guy Fawkes day (a member of a group of English Roman Catholics which planned to blow up the English Parliament and kill King James, to destroy Protestant rule and kill the Protestant Aristocracy. They failed, hence the celebration). Yes, I know, this is New Zealand, not England, but these are the kinds of perks you get in the Commonwealth. Anyway, celebration in New Zealand and Australia is an excuse to have a bbq or hangi, get drunk, set off some fireworks (legal here), have a giant bonfire and burn an effigy of Mr. Fawkes. You know, the usual summer festivities. If only we Americans hadn't been so damn truculent, we could be burning a straw man too!



While we were blessed with blue skies on Guy Fawkes day, as soon as we left Leigh, it rained for 4 days straight. From the Bay of Islands to the Kauri Coast, we were perpetually wet. Apparently, the region--which is mostly farmland--hadn't had rain for many weeks and was desperate for a drop. Of course we picked the one weekend when the heavens opened. Despite the dampness, we were happy to be out of the city, exploring the beautiful northern coastlines, hanging out in quaint fishing towns, splashing around tide pools and surf beaches playing with starfish and crabs, binging on abundant and brilliant sea food, making the obligatory trip to Cape Reinga, and paying homage to the towering Kauri trees, monsters of the bush.



Of course as soon as we returned to Auckland, the skies parted, and we saw the sun for the first time in almost a week.



After scratching my Northland itch, I got back to work on applications. I'm almost done! But I can't believe that I'm already planning trips to New York and Chicago for interviews in 4-6 weeks! crazy. You see, those places don't exist here. For the past 10 months, NZ has been a reality--albeit surreal and fun-filled--and the U.S. has been the fantasy, an apparition conjured in television, radio, and movie theaters down-under. On Dec. 5, I'll enter liminal airspaces and airport lay-overs to gain the day i lost a year ago. When I emerge, groggy and stiff, NZ will be a misty fantasy again, and the reality of the Buffalo winter will hit me like a lake-effect snow ball.





cheers,
d

The Latest, Rather Late

I moved to the North Island to continue my research and try to cram in as much "data collection" as possible. That being said, I've spent most of my time clawing my way through the labyrinth that is medical and grad school applications. I've been escaping this tedium by taking up Bikram Yoga. (You know, the one that's super hot--at least 98 degrees (F)/35 degrees (C)). The room is not only cozy warm, but also incredibly humid. It doesn't take much to sweat, just a breathing exercise to get your glands going. Maintaining your focus isn't too difficult either when the heat simultaneously launches your heart into a panic and your head into a ethereal state of meditation that only the amateur would mistake for exhaustion or a heart attack. At moments you feel on the edge, but you emerge so high, feeling purged of whatever toxins--thoughts of application morass or sweat--build up each day. I'm addicted. I guess I've discovered my masochistic side.

In a less selfish mode, I've been escaping my research, articles-in-progress, and apps through more productive indulgences. Some weekends I join a group of dedicated individuals who hop on a ferry at the Auckland docks every Saturday and every second Sunday and head for Motuihe Island in the Hauraki Gulf, just 30 minutes away from the CBD. With the Motuihe Project Trust I've spent days planting trees, doing nursery work, spraying weeds, and helping with other random tasks that are required to restore flora and fauna of the island. Throughout its history, the island has been a navy base, a German internment camp, a quarantine camp, a children's health camp, and a farm. Now, the trust--established around 7 years ago--is attempting to replant much of the cleared native bush in order to restore the biological diversity and create a haven for many of New Zealand's native birds, which are under threat from loss of habitat and introduced pests (such as rabbits, possums, stoats) on the mainland. At the outset, the huge population of rabbits was eradicated and weeds were removed. Now, many fields have been replanted with young saplings that were grown from seeds harvested from the little patches of bush that remained uncleared. Also, saddlebacks, a small dark bird with a reddish-brown saddle on its back, have been released and are flourishing. Rumor has it that they will release Kiwi in the coming weeks.

I haven't been for the past two weeks because of my travels, but I hope to get out there this Saturday for some conservation fun with the other botanical and eco-nerds.

I was out of town two weeks ago for the GREs, which were being held in Wellington, my favorite Kiwi city; its charm and life always cheers me. For three days I buried myself in practice tests at the public library. But the trip was not an entire waste. I was able to get some Bikram in at a local studio and visit another Fulbright, Willie, at his Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) exhibit at a Cuba St. Gallery. His installations were great and I felt so privileged to have the artist himself take me through the various meanings and intentions of his work. While I'm not from the southwest, or anywhere near Mexico (does Amsterdam ave count? what about Spanish Harlem?), it was good to get in touch with some North American culture around Halloween.

This past weekend, I traveled around Northland, exploring the various bays, beaches, and fishing and surfing outposts of the most northern region of New Zealand. In short: it rained. a lot.

more later . . . but hopefully not too late

Cheers,

D

Keep On Keepin' On

I've moved! And here's my new address just in case you would like to be my pen pal (or send me a flat warming gift):

Flat 1, 25 Collingwood Street
Freeman's Bay, Auckland
New Zealand


Following my trip to Melbourne, I packed up my life in suitcases and boxes, filled up my red Nissan hatchback, left my trusty bike with my friend Emily, and said goodbye to my flatmates, Basil the cat, my friends, and Christchurch. Tiring of the soggy chill of the South Island winter, I was anticipating a fresh start in Auckland, and looking more forward to the days ahead of driving along the beautiful roads winding their way north.



As I left my old flat early on a Friday morning, the skies were perfectly clear and the spring sun rose and chased away the last wet chills of August. My first day on the road I was headed for Picton at the top of the South Island where I caught the ferry for Wellington. For four hours, I drove along the coast ducking in and out of rolling paddocks where sheep dotted the hillsides like pills on a sweater. One of the joys of my drive was spotting the smaller fluffs of wool nestling against each other in the early morning sun--the babies of the new lambing season. aw! I squealed to myself in the car.



Halfway up the coast, I passed through Kaikoura, where I caught sea perch and the enormous shark back in March. There, the highway slinks along the coastal cliffs hovering over seal colonies and favorite cray diving spots. I took a moment for a rest at a look out point that hung over a large colony of seals sleeping on the rocks in the water below. I took a few pictures, breathed in the sea air, and munched on some yummy crackers that Emily made for me the night before (so good and crunchy! thanks em!).



The rest of the drive was more of the same: gorgeous rolling farmland (yawn). I arrived in Picton a little early to grab some coffee and lunch in a cafe and wander about this quaint town nestled in the Marlborough sounds. After having my fill, I drove to the ferry, parked my car in line, and waited until we could drive into the belly of the boat for our 3 hour ride across Cook Strait to Wellington on the North Island. On the boat, I attempted to do some work, but got sea sick as we left the sheltered waters of the sounds and bobbed along the open sea.

After landing in Wellington, I met with a fellow Fulbrighter who was putting me up for the night and, although I was exhausted, I joined him for a movie and dinner. Afterwards, I followed him up the narrow steep roads to his house perched atop one of Wellington's hills to recharge for my next day of driving.



I woke up in Wellington already feeling the northern warmth; again, I had sun and crystal skies. That day, I had to be in Tongariro National Park (in the middle of the North Island) as a place to meet a friend and pause for a few days on my journey. I took my time driving north of Wellington, stopping for coffee, and making a detour to a small coastal village, where I ate my lunch on some driftwood on the beach. As I walked back to my car, a couple drove onto the sand with their horses in tow, getting ready for a ride by the shore...oh! I sighed with envy.




As I traveled more inland, the landscape quickly changed from lush rolling greens to the muddy reds, copper browns, and dirty blonds of a desert. But I wasn't in a desert, I was in Tongariro, where the flora surprised and captivated me. We got more of a taste of this wildly different landscape the next day as a friend and I did some short walks and went skiing on Mt. Ruapehu, a volcano which erupted without warning just a few days ago. (One man was injured in the resulting avalanches). The snowcapped Mountains of Tongariro look eerily out of place, rising like silver mohawk from the evergreen North Island. The occasion was special: it was my first time on skis in years, and instead of skiing among pines, we navigated the black volcanic crags that blotted the fields. Less than perfect snow aside, it was a unique experience to be skiing above the clouds, on a volcano, in August.



My friend joined me for the last leg of the drive up through the Waikato to Auckland, where we stayed for about 2 hours to pick up a friend, and then head off for a last minute, 24-hour jaunt on the Coromandel Peninsula. I had come here with my parents in June and was glad to be returning to one of our favorite parts of the North Island. With my friends, however, we stayed in a charming backpackers in the Coromandel town, woke up and played along the shore of hot water beach in the hopes of digging ourselves a hot pool, and climbed to the top of the Pinnacles, one of the tallest points in the peninsula, all in time to return to Auckland that evening.





The following days, I returned to reality and began the search for a new flat, where I could unload my car, do some laundry, and get to work. So here I've been for a month, living in the trendy and vibrant Freeman's Bay neighborhood, trying to work, play, listen to the birds, smell the spring flowers, and not think about the fact that I have to leave this place in two months.



Cheers,

D

Melbourne, AU

We've almost reached the end of September, and I've yet to report on August! (Apparently, I do need my mother nagging me every other day.)

So much has happened since I last wrote: the seasons have changed, I've moved to the North Island, I have a new flat, I've traveled across the ditch, said good-bye to some American friends returning home, and begun a new (and somewhat final) phase of my research.


Before I departed Christchurch, I scheduled a handful of meetings and interviews in Melbourne and I allowed myself a 5 day weekend to explore this hip Australian metropolis with my friend Jenny, who came down from Sydney to hang out. Staying at the Nunnery, we positioned ourselves well to see, hear, shop, and taste the charms of Melbourne. This convent-turned-backpackers skirts the trendy, yet edgy neighborhood of Fitzroy (Melbourne's smarter answer to Williamsburg), faces Carlton Gardens and the Italian flavored uni district, and is just elbow-nudging distance from the CBD (um, that's Australian for 'downtown').

On my first day there, I found my way to the Royal Children's Hospital, and met with the social worker and adolescent gynecologist for interviews. While I was going on very little sleep (I had to be at the airport at 5am that morning), I managed to conduct relatively coherent conversations and learn some interesting things about their "centre of excellency." As I walked home, my impressions of the meetings sublimed into vaporous memories and recollections that I hoped would somehow deposit themselves in my field notes and transcripts. But I didn't care that at each moment these impressions fell further away--I wanted to take my time going back to my room to meander through the shop-lined streets of this foreign city. Weaving through Friday's pedestrian traffic, I ducked into a bustling bookshop to peruse the shelves of international and local literature. When I had visited Sydney, I made an effort to purchase a book by an Australian author, but this time, I felt like an ex-pat drawn to a nostalgic (and romanticized) vision of home so I bought "The Yiddish Policeman's Union" by Michael Chabon. (you may know him from his Pulitzer Prize-winning novel "Kavalier and Clay"). His latest is a noir detective novel, about a murder, a messiah, and a bunch of jews in the Yiddish-speaking Alaskan district of Sitka--oy, need I say more!? Anyway, bookworming aside, I returned to the convent and had a shluf, until my friend Jenny arrived.

The remainder of the weekend was filled with a trip to the Victoria Market, a gallery hop, fancy cocktails, coffees, a bike ride to the seaside suburb of St. Kilda, yummy food, giggles, a mosey through the Botanic Gardens, shopping, and last but not least, a Ryan Adams concert! It was my first time seeing him live, and it was as welcome as a warm slice of Americana pie. As Jenny and I waited inside St. Kilda's Palais Theatre, the Art Nouveau auditorium teemed with flannel, plaid and cowboy boots. The show was wonderfully teasingly mysteriously fulfilling. Not once did he allow the lights to light up his face or the rest of his band; his sometimes syrupy, sometimes gravelly voice emanated from the darkness. Ryan Adams is known for being a temperamental performer, and that evening he lived up to his reputation. He had the audience groveling on a string and at every break we braced ourselves for the worst: that--in that good ol' fashioned country music way--he might love us, leave us, and take the dog.








cheers for now,

D

Winter Festival Mania!

When Kiwis get soaked to the bone in winter rain and long for the warmth of the sun, they seem to comfort themselves in two ways: 1. indulging in heaps of delicious, home-roasted hot coffee, or 2. basking in the glow of the silver screens and spotlights of a festival. Currently, we are in the thick of winter, and we need a double dose of indoor culture. So, to prevent a full on S.A.D. epidemic, the Telecom International Film and the Christchruch Arts Festivals have come to town! These two-week long events couldn't be more refreshing unless they came with sun lamps and a good mojito.

With a tight wallet at present, I can't attend all of the goings-on, but there are a select few that I can manage to fit in. All around town, there are plays, cabaret acts, music gigs, classical concerts, gallery exhibitions, and dance performances. So far, I've seen two films and attended two concerts.

The first film I saw was the new New Zealand "geek-edy" Eagle vs. Shark starring Jemaine Clement (of the new HBO show Flight of the Conchords) and Loren Horsley, and directed by Taika Cohen , a.k.a. Taika Waititi (writer and director on Flight). This is a shoe-gazing, nerd epic that sometimes crosses the line from endearing to slightly upsetting. As it tracks the relationship of two socially awkward twenty-somethings--Jarrod and Lily--the film becomes a mission to his home town in which Jarrod confronts his past. He's really quite a jerk, but we're led to believe that his behavior is a result of bullying at school and his father's neglect (His older brother was a star athlete, adored and pushed by his father.) Yet, Lily follows him blindly and in the end makes him a better man.

The film is very charming and funny and has some nice themes. But, I couldn't help leaving the theater a little annoyed. Sometimes I feel uncomfortable laughing at these caricatures of social misfits. I guess that's what makes the film effective and exploitative-it gets you to enjoy and laugh at their quirks and absurdities, but in the end you may feel guilty as you begin to see them as valued people with similar struggles and experiences to your own. Anyway, the movie isn't amazing, but it's definitely good. I love these guys in Flight of the Conchords...be sure to check it out--it's a wonderful slice of kiwi-hipster pie.

The second film I saw was called Death of a President and it was a fictional account of the assassination of President Bush. The film describes the development of events surrounding his shooting as well as the attempt to find the killer. It avoids Bush-bashing, which I think would cheapen the film, and instead offers very powerful messages in very subtle, yet potent ways. The film splices fictional interviews with real news footage to make it seem like a documentary (if there hadn't been an initial disclaimer, I might have thought it was all true).

For me, and most Americans, violence has always been virtual. I experience most world events through a screen, so watching this film was just as real as standing in the guidance counselor's office in high school watching the planes crash into the twin towers. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it was all just a movie, and I had to keep reminding myself of that, but when Bush's assassination ushered in a new age of police state measures--Patriot Act 3--and bolstered a new Syrian-focused war on terror, my heart dropped, I got a chill and began to shake in my movie theater seat. This time, I was watching a national disaster (albeit fictional) from foreign soil, looking at the U.S. from a distance through kiwi-tinted eyes. It felt like I was in that scene from the Wizard of Oz, when the Wicked Witch shows Dorothy her friends' plight through her giant crystal ball and there's nothing she can do about it. She's helpless and so far away. Yet, indeed, for better or worse, there's no place like home.

On a lighter note, I saw Lauren Mitchell, the Oval Office (my voice teacher, Sacha's band), and Solaa perform as a part of the Christchurch Arts Festival. All of these bands incorporate some soul, funk, r&b, and jazz, but Solaa (my favorite) had two MCs throwing down some rhymes and a scratch DJ as well as two percussion sections, a man on synth and keys, two vocalists (male and female), 3 guys on brass, guitar, and bass. They sampled across American hip hop, funk, soul, and African beats, borrowing from The Roots and reminding me a lot of Jurassic 5, Ozomatli, and at times Fela Kuti.

The festivals still have another week or two left, so I may have a few more movies, galleries, plays, and concerts in my future.

In the spirit of Kiwi arts, I attended a harakeke (flax) weaving workshop today where I learned to make flax flowers and a kete, a small two-cornered container. From 10-4, I sat with 11 other women from all over--Kiwis, Americans, a Scandinavian, and an Israeli--in a historic Victorian home. These giant, strong plants grow throughout the country and enter into many aspects of Maori life and material culture including vessels, skirts, cloaks, wall decoration, tools, and fishing nets. Here's a photo of my kete and some flowers I made. Over the next few weeks the green will dry out and fade to a cream color.

Next week I head across the ditch to Melbourne, Australia! I'll be doing some research as well as hanging out with my friend Jenny who's coming down from Sydney where she works.



Cheers,

D

News Zealand

When my parents were here visiting, my father seemed to be on a daily mission to get the newspaper. He enjoyed reading about NZ press perspectives on global news as well as discovering hidden gems in the local stories of smaller towns. So I've decided that I would like to share with you stories from the pages of the New Zealand press.

This post's theme: Heroes.


The bus driver story is my favorite. Normally, buses are my enemies: they almost run over us pedestrians and come dangerously close to flattening me and my bike. But today, I could stand behind them because one of their ranks caught car-stealing hoodlums. What's more, the car smashed into a tram (or street car), also the bane of my cycling existence--i've gotten caught twice in their tracks, flying off course into parked cars or oncoming traffic. Again, I thank you cheesy tourist tram, keep up the good work!

Bus driver rounds up suspect

By CHARLIE GATES - The Press | Monday, 23 July 2007

DAVID HALLETT

ABRUPT STOP: a bus driver helped police when he collared a teenager fleeing a stolen car which had smashed into a tram in Cathedral Square, Christchurch, yesterday. Police and tram staff attended the scene of the collision.

A Christchurch bus driver came to the aid of police yesterday by collaring a 14-year-old fleeing a stolen car which had smashed into a tram in Cathedral Square.

The stolen Ford Laser, allegedly driven by a 19-year-old with two passengers aged 12 and 14, was spotted by police on Colombo Street about 9.40am and took off.

The car raced down the street with a police car in pursuit but the chase came to a crunching end almost before it began. The car was overtaking a bus in Cathedral Square when it collided with an oncoming tram.

The three youths fled on foot but a passing bus driver who witnessed the crash left his vehicle to chase the 14-year-old down towards Warners Hotel.

The driver, who works for Christchurch Bus Services and only wants to be known as Steve, said he did not hesitate to leap from his bus and collar the teenager.

"It took me only a second to decide to run after him. A friend looked after the bus for me. I ran a fair way to get him. He was running at a bit of a pace. I reached out and grabbed him by the collar and shook him a few times. I used to be a bouncer so I know how to grab people."

Steve then walked the teenager back to the scene to await the return of the police officer, who had run after the driver.

Another member of the public caught the fleeing 12-year-old and handed him over to Steve, thinking he was a police officer.

Steve then waited at the scene, with a sullen youth dangling from each arm, for the police officer to return with the driver.

Steve said he was driven to act because he could not abide theft.

"I do not like crime and I do not like people stealing stuff. I have had my car stolen, so I know what it is like," he said.

Sergeant Kim Reid said the culprits were "unbelievably young".

"Police had just observed them and were going to follow them when they took off. It was a very short chase. They could not have picked a more solid object to crash into. They are unbelievable young. It is sad, actually," he said.

The 19-year-old has been charged with unlawful taking and the two young passengers are being dealt with by Child, Youth and Family.

Tram driver Ray Pyne said he was shocked by the collision.

"The car came round the outside of the bus and crashed right into me. It all happened very quickly, I just looked up and saw the car heading towards me," he said. His seven passengers were unharmed.

The incident is the second time bus drivers have helped Christchurch police collar a suspect in a month.

Three bus drivers worked together to box in a car being chased by police on June 28.

The medical anthropologist in me likes the medical miracle story. Armed with scalpels and gauze, surgeons are modern day heroes. Now that they are separated, these little guys can go on to cultivate liberal humanist selves.

Conjoined twins medical team in Awards final

Monday, 23 July 2007, 2:38 pm
Press Release: Health Innovation Awards
Conjoined twins medical team in NZ Health Innovation Awards final

23 July 2007

The medical team that separated conjoined twins in 2004 has earned a place in the finals of the 2007 New Zealand Health Innovation Awards (HIA).

Waikato Hospital paediatric surgeon Askar Kukkady led the multidisciplinary team of specialists from Waikato Hospital and Auckland hospitals. The successful separation of the girls was an Australasian first.

Twenty-two finalists are competing in the HIA, three of which are also from the Waikato region. The HIA, a joint endeavour of the Ministry of Health and ACC, were started in 2003 and recognises individuals and organisations that have developed new and innovative approaches to delivering better health services.

The extensive planning and use of an integrated multi-disciplinary team ensured the operation was successful and the twins recovered rapidly. The operations were photographed and video recorded to enable teams around the world to deal with a similar situation.

The incidence of conjoined twins is one in 200,000 live births. The girls born in Waikato were of a particularly rare type called pygopagus twins. Accounting for only 6 percent of conjoined twins, pygopagus siblings are joined at the lower back, spine and pelvis. There have been less than 30 reported cases of the separation of pygopagus twins worldwide with none in Australia or New Zealand.

The operation was planned over five months. An angiogram detailing the twins’ blood vessels was the first recorded angiogram carried out on conjoined pygopagus twins. A model of their fused spine was made based on 3-D images from CT scans. Two weeks before the operation the team practised the operation using a set of custom-made fused dolls. The separation was conducted in two stages, when the twins were three months and five months old, the major operation taking 22 hours with rostered teams working in relays.

Today the twins are leading healthy happy lives. .A number of valuable lessons have been learnt from this major effort. Bringing together a team consisting of over 50 personnel has also helped in managing other complex cases needing the input of several disciplines.

Further information about the HIA is available online at http://www.healthinnovationawards.co.nz

This year’s HIA winners will be announced at the HIA expo and gala dinner held on 10 October at the Wellington Town Hall.

And last, but not least, Harry Potter comes to New Zealand. I have to admit that I only read the first two books, but I do enjoy the movies, the most recent of which I saw this weekend.

City under Potter spell

The Press | Saturday, 21 July 2007

STACY SQUIRES/The Press

Harry Potter mania gripped Christchurch last night with some of the city's luminaries participating in a pre-book release dinner party at Hogwarts – aka the Christchurch Club.

MAGICAL MOMENTS: Corallyn Newman rings the bell for silence at the beginning of the Harry Potter dinner at the Christchurch Club last night. The club's dining room stood in for the Hogwarts' dining hall and the crowd was entertained with speeches, quizes, and a dance performance by four little owls from the Sharon Howells School of Ballet.

The much anticipated seventh volume of the Harry Potter series, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, was released today.

Guest speakers included children's author Margaret Mahy, columnist and law lecturer David Round, and The Press TV reviewer Trevor Agnew, who proposed a toast to the series' author, J. K. Rowling.

The dining room of the Christchurch Club stood in for the Hogwarts dining hall and the crowd was entertained with speeches, quizzes, and a dance performance by four little owls from the Sharon Howells School of Ballet.

The guests were all dressed in Potter gear, with plenty of witches and wizards and even a rat, an owl, and a spider. Witch Sue Collyer said she was a "huge Harry Potter fan".

The five winners of the final Harry Potter book are: Shantelle Godfrey, of Hokitika; Ashley Ross, of Bryndwr, Christchurch; Vaughan Dunlop, of Avondale, Christchurch; D. White, of Rangiora; Helen Blackburn, of Christchurch. The answer to the question was Dudley Dursley.

Cheers,

D

Where have you been!?

Yes, I realize it's already July. And I know it's been over a month. Let's just say that snow in July is throwing me off. I'm wearing a beanie, buried under blankets in my non-centrally heated flat. But it's cool...I get the mountains, the ocean, the slow pace of life all in exchange for slight discomfort. I'm quite used to it, actually, whereas my new flatmate from Nebraska isn't. A snowboarder, he left a hot mid-west summer for the damp chill of Christchurch and the ski-fields of the Southern Alps. He arrived just as I returned from my trip with my parents.

We spent just over two weeks touring much of the North and South Islands and covered quite a lot of ground from the rain forest to the glaciers, and from Maori art and culture to fine wines and cheeses. We also traveled on many modes of transportation: we drove between Auckland the Coromandel and Rotorua; flew between Wellington and Marlborough; rode the train between Marlborough, Christchurch, and Arthur's Pass; jet-boated down the Waimakariri river; drove to Mt. Cook, and then Queenstown; flew in a helicopter over the Alps and Fiordland National Park to Milford Sound (which is really a fjord), stopping on a glacier; and cruised on a boat through Milford.

The highlights for both me and my parents included our tour around Auckland, the Fulbright awards ceremony in Wellington, Arthur's Pass, and our helicopter flight around Queenstown. In Auckland, we learned about modern urban Maori life with a focus on modern art. Melissa, our hip and knowledgeable guide, began our tour at a black sand beach on the west coast of the city. We left a city steeped in fog and arrived in the coastal suburbs with a low winter sun breaking through the clouds. As we stood beneath historic Maori Pa sites (important gathering places, high grounds for refuge or retreat), Melissa recounted the Maori origin story. Standing on the empty beach, we closed our eyes and imagined earth mother and sky father being separated by their children, guardians of wind, volcanoes, the sea, the forest, etc. We opened our eyes in a new world, with a new awareness that would stay with us for the remainder of the trip.

On the next beach, on the other side of the rocks, we noticed a gathering and a Department of Conservation Van. Dogs ran about excitedly. When we got close we could see and smell the sinewy remains of a whale carcass, maybe 5 meters long. The stench was awful and overwhelming, yet it belied a certain beauty of the animal. Having been dead at sea for weeks, much of the skin had rotted away exposing colorful muscle, fat, vessels, and bone. I'd like to think it was an omen.

Not everyone was as interested in the foul carcass as I was, so we quickly left for a bush walk, where my parents were introduced to the native bush, including many ferns, the great Kauri tree, and the Kaukau bush, which provided us with wonderful tea. After our brief walk, we had lunch in a hip neighborhood, explored its galleries, and then met one of New Zealand's master carvers, Blaine Terito. He welcomed us into his home where he showed us his work and shared his stories. He also spoke with us about his moko, or facial tatooing, a Maori tradition reserved for only the most respected members of the community. Moko was almost lost with colonization, but with the current Maori resurgence it's being practiced again. Like many Maori arts, this is concerned with whakapapa, or genealogy and descent. Additionally, it's message lies in what is left unmarked, the white spaces between the ink. We learned a great deal from him and feel very privileged that we could meet with such a highly regarded artist and cultural leader.

Another favorite segment of the trip, was the time we spent in Wellington. There, I met with the Fulbright students from New Zealand, going to study in the U.S., and we were honored together in the parliament building at the awards ceremony. After a couple of ministers, the head of the Fulbright New Zealand board, and the U.S. ambassador to NZ spoke we walked up to the stage to receive our certificate, leis, pins, and shake some hands. After some photos and an a whole lot of kvelling, we retreated to a local sushi bar for dinner with the other U.S. Fulbrights. It was a pretty special night.

From there, we hopped Cook straight to the South Island, where we drank a lot of wine, ate a lot of cheese, and saw millions of sheep. In Arthur's Pass, we had an off-road tour of Flock Hill, a sheep station, and toured parts of Arthur's Pass, our first taste of the Southern Alps. We spent the last few days of our trip in the mountains, sleeping beneath Mt. Cook, and flying to Milford sound, where we cruised below waterfalls misting off sheer cliffs carved out by glaciers millions of years ago. On our way flying back over the snowy peaks, we landed on a pristine glacier. The ice and snow crunched beneath our feet as we walked about. From there, the mountain and glacier sloped down to oblivion with only the ocean beyond it's edge, on one side, and the whole of the Alps on the other. We were there for just a few moments...any longer and I may have blown away.

In other news: I fell while hiking with my parents during our last day in Queenstown and badly sprained my ankle. No hiking for me for the next month or two. So unable to join my flatmates in Queenstown for a weekend of snowboarding, I drove down with them and went to the Wanaka Mountain Film Festival instead. For three days, I immersed myself in extreme sport film: mountain biking, snowboarding, free-skiing, mountaineering, hang-gliding, base-jumping, kite-skiing, and rock climbing. It was a great weekend and as always, a beautiful drive to the mountains. Unfortunately, I returned to my flat unable to find my car where I had left it. It was stolen, with my trusty hiking boots inside. Even if my insurance did cover it (which it doesn't), I could never buy back shoes that had been worn in for six years and had led me through the Appalachian Mountain trail, Costa Rica, the Adirondacks, on now New Zealand. I'm still hoping for the best. Let me know if you've seen a lonely looking red Subaru station wagon; YZ6757.



For more pictures from the trip, check out the link to my flickr photo page.



Cheers,

D