When Bri and I were in Australia, I realised that if I was going to make it back to the sheep farm, it would have to be that weekend. Wal, one of the guys who owns the vineyard where we worked over the original farm weekend, lives in CHCH and had offered me a ride back down to Oamaru anytime. Bri and I got back to CHCH on Wednesday night and I called Wal on Thursday. He said the earliest he would pick us up was 9 am Friday morning, so I had to finish my 1,500-word Russian history essay by then. Of course I spent Thursday doing laundry, cleaning my room, etc. All the stuff we do when we’re trying to procrastinate. I didn’t sit down to seriously start my essay till 9 that night, and I finished to the sound of birds chirping in the fresh sunlight at 6 am. The reforms of Alexander II (or was it III?) are actually pretty interesting, so at least I wasn’t bored. And Rachel was a complete lifesaver—she wrote on the same topic and let me use her library books, and then she printed out and turned in our essays the next morning, and she also biked to the grocery store around 7 am to get provisions for the weekend, because she is awesome. I got to sleep for a whole hour!
By 9 am we were headed to the UCSA building, where Wal was supposed to pick us up. We got coffee and breakfast inside, then ended up waiting four hours for Wal. We had a really long talk, which was great, and then we fell asleep on some couches. Rachel and I were both a little nervous about making conversation for four hours with this guy we barely knew, but he is very friendly and easy to talk to. He told us about the time he’d been in Charlotte, NC and completely blown away by the Southern accents. We could imagine. I tried to stay awake, but it was impossible, so Rachel put me in the backseat with Wal’s dog Dolly so I could nap. Wal took us the scenic way; he drove us down so we could see the Waitaki River and then through the little town of Kurow. He bought us ice cream too.
Two of Wal’s co-investors, Arthur and Jocelyn, are in the process of moving from CHCH to Oamaru, so we helped them move stuff in to their new house for a bit. Those two are a trip. Arthur shoots his mouth off all the time and refers to Jocelyn as “She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed.” She is pretty quiet in contrast, but one time he was giving her a lot of sass and she flipped him the bird. Wal’s response was, “Aren’t they just a great advertisement for love and marriage?”
Unfortunately Keith and Kaye, the owners of Glenmac, were out of town for the weekend, but they still graciously allowed us to stay at their house. Rachel and I took the room Alex and Dale had stayed in last time. We spent Saturday tearing apart the plastic guards that go around vines and stacking them together, an activity that we’d dubbed New Zealand Wine Vine Sheath Consolidation back in September. I also helped Jocelyn and Arthur spray the vines with sulphur to prevent mildew.
When we got back to Glenmac, Wal took us into the sheep-shearing sheds to see heaps of discarded wool, the table they spread the wool on to evaluate its quality, the old shearers and the new ones. It was very educational. Then that night, Jocelyn made roast for dinner while Arthur told her what she was doing wrong. Typical. Then we did Tim Tam slams. If I haven’t explained that yet, there’s a type of chocolate Australian cookie called a Tim Tam that you bite both ends off and then suck coffee or hot chocolate through like a straw, and then when the cookie is saturated and melting, you eat it and it is amazing. Afterwards, Rachel and I ended up having a long talk with Wal about just about everything—relationships, religion, drinking, you name it. We crashed by eleven.
On our way back to the vineyard Sunday morning, Arthur showed us his neighbours’ vines and the drastic consequences that tiny differences in altitude, wind power and sunshine can have on the crop. Vine growers are supposed to grow grapes in very poor soil, because in such conditions the vines will focus on producing a few quality grapes rather than a lot of mediocre ones. When we made it up to our vineyard, we helped weed the vines and timed Arthur on the tractor. We only stayed for an hour or so, and then back at Glenmac, Arthur and Jocelyn gave us a bag of lamb chops from their own sheep and a bottle of Riesling (my favourite) to thank us for helping them. Arthur is undergoing chemo right now and unable to do a lot of the work on the vineyard, so I think Rachel and I were more help to them than we realised.
We exchanged email addresses and that sort of thing, and then we headed back to CHCH with Wal. He took us by the Waitaki Power Station on the way home. I spent the whole trip just gazing out the window at the green hills and the sheep. New Zealand just doesn’t look real; it seems idealised, like Arcadia. No photograph can do it justice, although Rachel’s come pretty close.
The past week went by in a blur. Rachel and I cooked our lamb chops for everyone returning from their tramp at Abel Tasman on Monday night. Tuesday I absolutely nailed my ancient epics final. On Friday night Emily and Rob flew in from Sydney and spent two nights here. They’ll be back on Wednesday and then again on Friday and Saturday. Kiwis don’t celebrate Halloween, but we did the other night, which was a lot of fun. Last night Nora and I went to church at the Cathedral downtown, which was super cool because four priests got ordained. There were sparkly mitres everywhere. Then I came home and watched The Emperor’s New Groove with Sina, who’s moving out today. Moey is leaving on Friday, so my last week here will be pretty quiet, which is sad. However, in addition to Emily and Rob, Ellen from farm weekend is coming to visit! I’m meeting her in the city in a few hours. Somehow I need to make time to study for my Nazi history and Roman myth exams, which are on Saturday and Monday.
Sorry about the super-long posts. Consider reading them practice for when I’m a writer someday.
much love-
Carie Mac
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Better Than New Zealand
As I predicted, October was a busy month, so it’s story time. The last week of classes I had two essays and a test. Of course I procrastinated horribly and finished my 2,000-word paper on the myth of Cleopatra at 2:30 am on the morning of Saturday the 17th. The fun part is, I slept for about 45 minutes and then got up at 3:30 to take a shower and pack in time to catch a cab to the airport with Briana at 4:45 because we had a 6:30 flight to AUSTRALIA! My friend Emily from Wake is studying at the University of Sydney and invited us to stay with her for a few days. Here’s a secret: in a lot of ways, Australia is actually better than New Zealand. Shhhh.
Being a bit of an idiot, I forgot that you can’t carry on liquids, so airport security took my shampoo etc. (but left me my razor???), which gave Briana no end of amusement. I also accidentally marked my customs card to indicate that I was a convict with tuberculosis. But it’s ok, because I forgot to turn it in.
Somehow we managed to make it to Emily’s flat by 10 for breakfast. Then Emily and her boyfriend Rob took us to the market at the Rocks for some shopping. We checked out the Circular Quay and the Opera House, and then we went to the Botanic Gardens. There was a tree full of bats, which was really interesting, and there was a guy in a plane skywriting about Jesus. Super cool. After we had lunch at a café in the Gardens, all four of us fell asleep on the bus back, so we decided to take a nap. Emily very generously turned her room over to us and we passed out for a good three hours. At dinner we discovered that Australia has legit pizza, unlike New Zealand. That night Emily and Rob took us out to a club called Argyle, which totally dazzled us because Christchurch nightlife has nothing like it. Emily asked for four glasses of water and the bartender looked at her like she was nuts.
The skies Sunday morning looked like rain, and we decided to go to the aquarium. We took our sweet time to get down to the Quay, though, getting distracted by the tall buildings, a cupcake bakery and a Krispy Kreme. I was extra excited about that last one because they do NOT have it in New Zealand. It was Briana’s first Krispy Kreme doughnut. I was so proud of her. We stopped by the Opera House to see if we could catch a show while we were in Sydney, but it’s hard to find a good one on such short notice that’s not too expensive. We missed a whole string of great orchestra concerts they played the week before we came. Oh, we also went back the Rocks to do some more shopping. Then we went to the Aquarium, which was awesome. It had two underwater tunnels with sharks and stingrays and dugongs and sea turtles and everything… so cool. I love aquariums. Afterwards Briana and I walked along the Sydney Harbour Bridge and took pictures from the top.
On Monday we had breakfast at the Museum of Sydney Café, on Rachel’s advice, which was great. I sniped a roll of toilet paper from their bathroom to give to Emily. Then Bri and I walked to the Quay and took a ferry to Manly Beach. We decided on Manly pretty much because Rachel told us about this great chocolate place there—Chocolate by the Bald Man, Max Brenner. And it was so nice to actually have warm weather! It’s November now, supposed to be quite summery but stupid Christchurch is cold and rainy and the wind will almost pick you up sometimes. Fantastic. So yeah, we got sunburned and freckled and maybe even a little tanned, and swam around the jellyfish and loved every minute of it. That evening we met up with Emma, my friend from high school, for Mexican food—I mean real Mexican food, the likes of which Christchurch has never seen—and gelato. It was really nice to catch up with Emma; I hadn’t seen her in a year at least. But it’s a small world, so we met up down under rather than in North Carolina.
Tuesday, our last full day in Sydney, we debated between Bondi Beach, the really famous one, and the Blue Mountains. We opted for the mountains, because I would have been disappointed if we hadn’t seen them because everyone makes such a big deal about them. Plus for some reason I like trains as much as your average five-year-old boy does, so I was psyched to take the two-hour train ride to Katoomba. We walked from the train station to the mountain lookouts and laughed at the ridiculously overdressed tourists. We stopped laughing when we got to the Mountains. The thing is, we’ve spent the past four months in Middle-Earth, living among some of the world’s most breathtaking scenery, and the Blue Mountains look like, well, Arizona. Lame. It wasn’t a total write-off, because we got to go walking on the trails and check out some pretty waterfalls, but still. The walk from my flat to the grocery store is more interesting than what we saw of the Blue Mountains.
The next day we were up at seven and psyched for the ZOO. The highlight of Taronga Zoo is definitely the “Australian Walkabout” (John Locke anyone?) wherein the kangaroos and wallabies and emus run free and you can pet them. It’s like the petting zoo at the state fair, only a million times more amazing. I made a mental note that when I have kids, I’m taking them to Sydney just so that they can pet a kangaroo. Because Bri and I did and it was super cool. What was NOT cool was the wallaby. We spent about ten minutes watching it and had the following exchange:
“Does that wallaby have a hole in its tummy?”
“What is that thing sticking out?”
“Maybe it’s a boy wallaby, if you catch my drift.”
“Oh-my-gosh it’s a baby. It has a BABY in there!”
“Oh, disgusting!” etc.
Moving on from the momma wallaby and the tiny pink hairless wallaby junior, we saw gorillas, tigers, giraffes, sea turtles, ostriches, zebras, all manner of creepy crawly things, and so on. After the kangaroos, the elephants were my favourite. We watched a zookeeper hose them down for a while, which was too funny because some of the elephants absolutely loved the water and others would have none of it. The baby nearly tripped over his ears trying to get out of Dodge. Speaking of little ones, I found a small Australian kid who was too short to see the lions, so I held him up to the glass while his mom had her hands full with his sister. The lions were too far back to see, so he amused himself by smashing flies on the glass. Then we went to check out the meerkats together. It was nice to spend some time with a little kid again, and his Australian accent was precious. We also saw koalas, which are almost as disappointing as the Blue Mountains. All they do is lie around in the trees and snooze. After we had seen everything there was to see, we rode a gondola back down to the ferry, which afforded a great view of the Sydney skyline. Christchurch doesn’t have any real skyscrapers, and Sydney’s massive buildings reminded us so much of the States. It was like a preview of home.
I think I’ve already established that I do not travel well. Actually, Bri and I do not travel well together. (It’s a good thing we aren’t flying to LA together next week. Oh, wait…) So at the airport, they had trouble with our Australian visas, and then we were almost late for our plane because of course our gate was at the very end of terminal, but then we got there and weren’t sure if this WAS our gate so we had to go find out, and all this rushing went on with me huffing and puffing to keep up with Bri who is six inches taller than I am. By the time we sat down, we were both grumpy and hot and hungry, and then it turned out that out plane was delayed. How lovely. Bri had plans to go on a five-day hiking trip the next day, and I had an essay to write that was 40% of my grade, so neither of us were real keen on cooling our heels in the Sydney airport with nothing to do besides gripe and listen to our stomachs growl. When we did board the plane, however, we found ourselves seated near a little boy with Buzz Lightyear and Jessie action figures who were dive-bombing each other. I was very tempted to lean over and holler, “To infinity—and beyond!” but I resisted the urge. I had bought some Reese’s in Syndey, because guess what ELSE New Zealand doesn’t have, and Bri and I ate them for dinner during the three-hour plane ride. Delicious.
So we got home in one piece, our friend Sam picked us up at the airport, Bri got off on her tramping trip ok, and I got my essay done. This only brings us up to 21st, but it’s almost 2 am so I will continue tomorrow, or something. Rachel went on a ten-day tour of the north island last month and right now she is on a road trip down south, and when she gets back I would love for her to have a bunch of messages demanding that she post on the blog. Thank you.
To be continued.
love-
Carie
Being a bit of an idiot, I forgot that you can’t carry on liquids, so airport security took my shampoo etc. (but left me my razor???), which gave Briana no end of amusement. I also accidentally marked my customs card to indicate that I was a convict with tuberculosis. But it’s ok, because I forgot to turn it in.
Somehow we managed to make it to Emily’s flat by 10 for breakfast. Then Emily and her boyfriend Rob took us to the market at the Rocks for some shopping. We checked out the Circular Quay and the Opera House, and then we went to the Botanic Gardens. There was a tree full of bats, which was really interesting, and there was a guy in a plane skywriting about Jesus. Super cool. After we had lunch at a café in the Gardens, all four of us fell asleep on the bus back, so we decided to take a nap. Emily very generously turned her room over to us and we passed out for a good three hours. At dinner we discovered that Australia has legit pizza, unlike New Zealand. That night Emily and Rob took us out to a club called Argyle, which totally dazzled us because Christchurch nightlife has nothing like it. Emily asked for four glasses of water and the bartender looked at her like she was nuts.
The skies Sunday morning looked like rain, and we decided to go to the aquarium. We took our sweet time to get down to the Quay, though, getting distracted by the tall buildings, a cupcake bakery and a Krispy Kreme. I was extra excited about that last one because they do NOT have it in New Zealand. It was Briana’s first Krispy Kreme doughnut. I was so proud of her. We stopped by the Opera House to see if we could catch a show while we were in Sydney, but it’s hard to find a good one on such short notice that’s not too expensive. We missed a whole string of great orchestra concerts they played the week before we came. Oh, we also went back the Rocks to do some more shopping. Then we went to the Aquarium, which was awesome. It had two underwater tunnels with sharks and stingrays and dugongs and sea turtles and everything… so cool. I love aquariums. Afterwards Briana and I walked along the Sydney Harbour Bridge and took pictures from the top.
On Monday we had breakfast at the Museum of Sydney Café, on Rachel’s advice, which was great. I sniped a roll of toilet paper from their bathroom to give to Emily. Then Bri and I walked to the Quay and took a ferry to Manly Beach. We decided on Manly pretty much because Rachel told us about this great chocolate place there—Chocolate by the Bald Man, Max Brenner. And it was so nice to actually have warm weather! It’s November now, supposed to be quite summery but stupid Christchurch is cold and rainy and the wind will almost pick you up sometimes. Fantastic. So yeah, we got sunburned and freckled and maybe even a little tanned, and swam around the jellyfish and loved every minute of it. That evening we met up with Emma, my friend from high school, for Mexican food—I mean real Mexican food, the likes of which Christchurch has never seen—and gelato. It was really nice to catch up with Emma; I hadn’t seen her in a year at least. But it’s a small world, so we met up down under rather than in North Carolina.
Tuesday, our last full day in Sydney, we debated between Bondi Beach, the really famous one, and the Blue Mountains. We opted for the mountains, because I would have been disappointed if we hadn’t seen them because everyone makes such a big deal about them. Plus for some reason I like trains as much as your average five-year-old boy does, so I was psyched to take the two-hour train ride to Katoomba. We walked from the train station to the mountain lookouts and laughed at the ridiculously overdressed tourists. We stopped laughing when we got to the Mountains. The thing is, we’ve spent the past four months in Middle-Earth, living among some of the world’s most breathtaking scenery, and the Blue Mountains look like, well, Arizona. Lame. It wasn’t a total write-off, because we got to go walking on the trails and check out some pretty waterfalls, but still. The walk from my flat to the grocery store is more interesting than what we saw of the Blue Mountains.
The next day we were up at seven and psyched for the ZOO. The highlight of Taronga Zoo is definitely the “Australian Walkabout” (John Locke anyone?) wherein the kangaroos and wallabies and emus run free and you can pet them. It’s like the petting zoo at the state fair, only a million times more amazing. I made a mental note that when I have kids, I’m taking them to Sydney just so that they can pet a kangaroo. Because Bri and I did and it was super cool. What was NOT cool was the wallaby. We spent about ten minutes watching it and had the following exchange:
“Does that wallaby have a hole in its tummy?”
“What is that thing sticking out?”
“Maybe it’s a boy wallaby, if you catch my drift.”
“Oh-my-gosh it’s a baby. It has a BABY in there!”
“Oh, disgusting!” etc.
Moving on from the momma wallaby and the tiny pink hairless wallaby junior, we saw gorillas, tigers, giraffes, sea turtles, ostriches, zebras, all manner of creepy crawly things, and so on. After the kangaroos, the elephants were my favourite. We watched a zookeeper hose them down for a while, which was too funny because some of the elephants absolutely loved the water and others would have none of it. The baby nearly tripped over his ears trying to get out of Dodge. Speaking of little ones, I found a small Australian kid who was too short to see the lions, so I held him up to the glass while his mom had her hands full with his sister. The lions were too far back to see, so he amused himself by smashing flies on the glass. Then we went to check out the meerkats together. It was nice to spend some time with a little kid again, and his Australian accent was precious. We also saw koalas, which are almost as disappointing as the Blue Mountains. All they do is lie around in the trees and snooze. After we had seen everything there was to see, we rode a gondola back down to the ferry, which afforded a great view of the Sydney skyline. Christchurch doesn’t have any real skyscrapers, and Sydney’s massive buildings reminded us so much of the States. It was like a preview of home.
I think I’ve already established that I do not travel well. Actually, Bri and I do not travel well together. (It’s a good thing we aren’t flying to LA together next week. Oh, wait…) So at the airport, they had trouble with our Australian visas, and then we were almost late for our plane because of course our gate was at the very end of terminal, but then we got there and weren’t sure if this WAS our gate so we had to go find out, and all this rushing went on with me huffing and puffing to keep up with Bri who is six inches taller than I am. By the time we sat down, we were both grumpy and hot and hungry, and then it turned out that out plane was delayed. How lovely. Bri had plans to go on a five-day hiking trip the next day, and I had an essay to write that was 40% of my grade, so neither of us were real keen on cooling our heels in the Sydney airport with nothing to do besides gripe and listen to our stomachs growl. When we did board the plane, however, we found ourselves seated near a little boy with Buzz Lightyear and Jessie action figures who were dive-bombing each other. I was very tempted to lean over and holler, “To infinity—and beyond!” but I resisted the urge. I had bought some Reese’s in Syndey, because guess what ELSE New Zealand doesn’t have, and Bri and I ate them for dinner during the three-hour plane ride. Delicious.
So we got home in one piece, our friend Sam picked us up at the airport, Bri got off on her tramping trip ok, and I got my essay done. This only brings us up to 21st, but it’s almost 2 am so I will continue tomorrow, or something. Rachel went on a ten-day tour of the north island last month and right now she is on a road trip down south, and when she gets back I would love for her to have a bunch of messages demanding that she post on the blog. Thank you.
To be continued.
love-
Carie
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Deep Thoughts? Maybe a Little
I’ve pretty much spent the entire weekend working on an essay in true Carie Mac style, which consists of frantically trying to organize the thoughts and quotes scattered across six color-coded pages in Microsoft Word, listening to the Wake-State football game with half an ear and ignoring Ted Nugent scream about cat-scratch-fe-verrrr, with the occasional Youtube break. That’s how I do it. Needless to say, after stringing together a thousand words on whether or not the Nazis succeeded in their policies toward youth during wartime Germany (answer: it depends on who you ask), I needed a break for something a little more uplifting. So Nora and I went to the Christchurch Cathedral for the evening service. It’s an Anglican church, but it’s also a tourist attraction. The floor is patterned with Stars of David and there’s a huge menorah in the corner, and there are candles and a small fountain for meditation purposes. Walking in, I assumed that it would be a church whose leaders pride themselves on “tolerance” at the expense of the truth. Looking over the liturgy, I saw that all the Scriptures and anthems were about love and all the mushy stuff that churches tend to emphasize over God’s more serious characteristics. I settled back in my comfy seat, ready for another useless sermon about feeling rather than doing. I judged the church and its members before hearing what they had to say, so clearly I had something to learn. And God never misses out a chance to deliver in a situation like that.
The New Testament lesson was Matthew 10:1-22, about Jesus talking to his disciples before sending them out with nothing but their faith and his Spirit. It’s not a terribly cheery passage, unless you relish the idea of being flogged and betrayed by your loved ones. The priest’s words caught my attention, as did his admission that he’d much rather be chilling in his comfortable, beautiful church in his spiffy vestments than out on the road for Jesus. Then he said something that struck me: that the church’s elaborate architecture and extravagant trappings aren’t in place to honor God or for his edification. Instead they serve to illustrate his greatness so that his people remember who he is. We get so caught up in the rush of our lives and allow God to recede in importance among our own priorities and fears, and the beauty of his house reminds us, or at least the priest and me, that God is still in charge. Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me. And so on. So much so that he took what was basically a study break and used it to smack me over the head with his sovereignty again.
The sermon also made me think about how terrible we are at remembering all the things God’s done for us. We’re a lot like the Israelites, who had the worst memories in recorded history. I’m sure that the part about the whole miraculous escape from slavery in Egypt that really stuck in the Israelites’ minds for years after was that they had to eat the same old, same old manna every day. I mean, if God’s going to drop food out of the sky, it could at least be like Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, right, and he could mix up the menu sometimes? What was he thinking? And the thing is, we’re just like the Israelites—we focus on the bad things that have happened in our lives rather than the miracles God has worked on our behalf. It’s typical of us to complain rather than rejoice. But when I listened to the priest speak today, I felt like the extra rubbish in my heart was melting away. That priest knows his stuff. As he said, the beauty of the church is a “vehicle” for our connection with God. Maybe that sounds idolatrous. But in that huge space, I can’t help but feel very small and remember who I am in comparison with the one I’m supposed to serve.
Well, those are my deep thoughts from New Zealand. It’s a good priest who can speak for five minutes and have me thinking about his words the rest of the night. But it’s bedtime. I have GOT to stop waking up at the crack of dawn to get on Skype.
love-
Carie Mac
The New Testament lesson was Matthew 10:1-22, about Jesus talking to his disciples before sending them out with nothing but their faith and his Spirit. It’s not a terribly cheery passage, unless you relish the idea of being flogged and betrayed by your loved ones. The priest’s words caught my attention, as did his admission that he’d much rather be chilling in his comfortable, beautiful church in his spiffy vestments than out on the road for Jesus. Then he said something that struck me: that the church’s elaborate architecture and extravagant trappings aren’t in place to honor God or for his edification. Instead they serve to illustrate his greatness so that his people remember who he is. We get so caught up in the rush of our lives and allow God to recede in importance among our own priorities and fears, and the beauty of his house reminds us, or at least the priest and me, that God is still in charge. Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me. And so on. So much so that he took what was basically a study break and used it to smack me over the head with his sovereignty again.
The sermon also made me think about how terrible we are at remembering all the things God’s done for us. We’re a lot like the Israelites, who had the worst memories in recorded history. I’m sure that the part about the whole miraculous escape from slavery in Egypt that really stuck in the Israelites’ minds for years after was that they had to eat the same old, same old manna every day. I mean, if God’s going to drop food out of the sky, it could at least be like Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, right, and he could mix up the menu sometimes? What was he thinking? And the thing is, we’re just like the Israelites—we focus on the bad things that have happened in our lives rather than the miracles God has worked on our behalf. It’s typical of us to complain rather than rejoice. But when I listened to the priest speak today, I felt like the extra rubbish in my heart was melting away. That priest knows his stuff. As he said, the beauty of the church is a “vehicle” for our connection with God. Maybe that sounds idolatrous. But in that huge space, I can’t help but feel very small and remember who I am in comparison with the one I’m supposed to serve.
Well, those are my deep thoughts from New Zealand. It’s a good priest who can speak for five minutes and have me thinking about his words the rest of the night. But it’s bedtime. I have GOT to stop waking up at the crack of dawn to get on Skype.
love-
Carie Mac
Monday, September 28, 2009
Rachel's Post!- Spring Break Tramping
Soooo this is a really long time in the coming – I do apologize! There is just so much going on that Carie can’t get me to sit still long enough to write anything for the blog. Thank you to all who harassed me : )
About spring break – it was crazy! To begin, I had an essay due the week of break (what???) that I frantically finished the night before our big trip began, so I only got three hours of sleep…when in New Zealand, right? But that’s ok – we were only chilling in the car for the day. As Carie mentioned, she got up early to see us off and Dale, PT, Alex, Matt, Nora and I piled into our ghetto van and hit the road. We made it all the way to Te Anau that first day, past Queenstown – the whole drive was about 7-8 hours I believe. We stayed in a hostel for the first night and all crashed hard. It didn’t help that a violent hurricane/storm/cyclone was raging outside our window. Alex made the comment “So, the trail is going to be a little bit muddy tomorrow…” and we all went back to sleep.
The next day we woke and went to the NZ DOC (dept. of conservation) to see about the Kepler Track that we were about to do – 3 nights and 4 days of tramping with beautiful views! When we got there we were informed that we couldn’t do more than a day of the track because of avalanche danger, so we decided to do the first leg of the track to Luxmore Hut. Trust this first leg to include ALL of the incline needed to reach the top of the mountain for the rest of the track. I don’t know how Matt, PT and Nora did it but somehow they convinced me to keep going. Alex and Dale had raged on ahead, of course, and were at the hut an hour and a half before us. But what a great hut! It was 56 bunks, probably one of the largest in New Zealand, and we had it all to ourselves. That first night and every night after we played poker in the dark with trail mix for chips – it was great!
After a pretty decent night’s sleep (not so much for the boys who stayed in a drafty room) we all got up and hiked to some caves that were nearby and descended into them for a pretty long ways. This involved lots of kneeling and squinching – it didn’t help that there was a sizeable creek of snow melt running down the length of the cave. Post-caving we booked it back to the car then had to decide on what to do with all this time we now had. We opted for driving to Milford Sound, about three hours away. Just before Milford we had to drive on roads that were constantly covered/shoveled because of avalanches – this was a little nerve-wracking. We literally stopped for a bathroom break at Milford then drove back up the road (there’s only one way in and out) to the Routeburn Track. We hiked for about an hour (in the wet dark, btw) to a hut because it was close to the road. We woke the next morning and there was snow everywhere! On the way back to the van we went up to the summit – on the way up there was enough blue sky to see the surrounding mountains, which were awesome, but lucky for us, when we got to the top there was not a patch of blue sky in sight and clouds covered every mountain peak. Win.
A little dejected we got out of that mess and hit up a microbrewery where everyone was happy to have warm stomachs for a few minutes : ) After this we drove more (another 3ish hours) to Mt. Cook, thinking there was a hut we could stay in there, according to the nice lady at the local DOC. Well, she was utterly wrong. We found that the huts there were private, so instead we went to Mt. Cook Village to check on the hostel situation - $30 a person for a night. We were all way to cheap to pay that, so instead we went for the option of sleeping in a covered picnic shelter (which had running water) on picnic tables for the night. I think we all got about 2-3 hours of sleep – it certainly did not help that snow blew in every once in a while to land in our faces. But oh well – we all had the chance to do a Tim Tam Slam the night before. I was pretty happy.
We woke to crummy, rainy weather outside, and like idiots decided to tramp a bit to see the nearby glacier. By the time we got there we were soaked to the core, even under ‘waterproof’ clothing and such. This didn’t stop us, though, from walking another hour and a half to a few suspension bridges in Hooker Valley. Hail, sleet and snow greeted us on this little sidetrip, and possibly some of the coldest, strongest wind I’ve ever encountered. We made it out, though, and headed for Mt. Somers after calling and confirming that the weather was bright and sunny.
A couple of hours later we arrived at Mt. Somers, this time dropping off Dale and Alex at one end of the track. PT, Matt, Nora and I slept in a different hut that night, intending to meet Dale and Alex sometime in the middle of the next day and hand off the keys as we passed them. After almost being blown off the mountainside (stronger winds than at Mt. Cook? I don’t know…) we arrived at our hut, which was practically brand new. We went to bed around 9:30 and at 11 woke to the sounds of people outside. That’s right – about 40 people showed up after at least a few hours hiking in the dark. Some set up tents, some came inside, but the really crazy ones slept in their sleeping bags on the cold ground. Nuts!!!
The next morning we got up early and hiked to the saddle of the mountain, around where Dale and Alex stole the keys from PT. We hiked for a while and then found an awesome waterfall where we stopped for about 20 minutes, knowing that the boys would have to wait a bit for us at the end : ) We continued on the trail that was winding up and down, over and under crazy roots. We had a few close calls but no one seriously wiped out. By the end, though, all our legs were trembling from fatigue. I swear my muscles were sore for at least 3-4 days after our trip. The experience was awesome, though, and a great way to spend 6 days! That night we returned to Carie, our guardian angel, who made dinner for us all. It was spectacular! Thanks Care Bear : )
About spring break – it was crazy! To begin, I had an essay due the week of break (what???) that I frantically finished the night before our big trip began, so I only got three hours of sleep…when in New Zealand, right? But that’s ok – we were only chilling in the car for the day. As Carie mentioned, she got up early to see us off and Dale, PT, Alex, Matt, Nora and I piled into our ghetto van and hit the road. We made it all the way to Te Anau that first day, past Queenstown – the whole drive was about 7-8 hours I believe. We stayed in a hostel for the first night and all crashed hard. It didn’t help that a violent hurricane/storm/cyclone was raging outside our window. Alex made the comment “So, the trail is going to be a little bit muddy tomorrow…” and we all went back to sleep.
The next day we woke and went to the NZ DOC (dept. of conservation) to see about the Kepler Track that we were about to do – 3 nights and 4 days of tramping with beautiful views! When we got there we were informed that we couldn’t do more than a day of the track because of avalanche danger, so we decided to do the first leg of the track to Luxmore Hut. Trust this first leg to include ALL of the incline needed to reach the top of the mountain for the rest of the track. I don’t know how Matt, PT and Nora did it but somehow they convinced me to keep going. Alex and Dale had raged on ahead, of course, and were at the hut an hour and a half before us. But what a great hut! It was 56 bunks, probably one of the largest in New Zealand, and we had it all to ourselves. That first night and every night after we played poker in the dark with trail mix for chips – it was great!
After a pretty decent night’s sleep (not so much for the boys who stayed in a drafty room) we all got up and hiked to some caves that were nearby and descended into them for a pretty long ways. This involved lots of kneeling and squinching – it didn’t help that there was a sizeable creek of snow melt running down the length of the cave. Post-caving we booked it back to the car then had to decide on what to do with all this time we now had. We opted for driving to Milford Sound, about three hours away. Just before Milford we had to drive on roads that were constantly covered/shoveled because of avalanches – this was a little nerve-wracking. We literally stopped for a bathroom break at Milford then drove back up the road (there’s only one way in and out) to the Routeburn Track. We hiked for about an hour (in the wet dark, btw) to a hut because it was close to the road. We woke the next morning and there was snow everywhere! On the way back to the van we went up to the summit – on the way up there was enough blue sky to see the surrounding mountains, which were awesome, but lucky for us, when we got to the top there was not a patch of blue sky in sight and clouds covered every mountain peak. Win.
A little dejected we got out of that mess and hit up a microbrewery where everyone was happy to have warm stomachs for a few minutes : ) After this we drove more (another 3ish hours) to Mt. Cook, thinking there was a hut we could stay in there, according to the nice lady at the local DOC. Well, she was utterly wrong. We found that the huts there were private, so instead we went to Mt. Cook Village to check on the hostel situation - $30 a person for a night. We were all way to cheap to pay that, so instead we went for the option of sleeping in a covered picnic shelter (which had running water) on picnic tables for the night. I think we all got about 2-3 hours of sleep – it certainly did not help that snow blew in every once in a while to land in our faces. But oh well – we all had the chance to do a Tim Tam Slam the night before. I was pretty happy.
We woke to crummy, rainy weather outside, and like idiots decided to tramp a bit to see the nearby glacier. By the time we got there we were soaked to the core, even under ‘waterproof’ clothing and such. This didn’t stop us, though, from walking another hour and a half to a few suspension bridges in Hooker Valley. Hail, sleet and snow greeted us on this little sidetrip, and possibly some of the coldest, strongest wind I’ve ever encountered. We made it out, though, and headed for Mt. Somers after calling and confirming that the weather was bright and sunny.
A couple of hours later we arrived at Mt. Somers, this time dropping off Dale and Alex at one end of the track. PT, Matt, Nora and I slept in a different hut that night, intending to meet Dale and Alex sometime in the middle of the next day and hand off the keys as we passed them. After almost being blown off the mountainside (stronger winds than at Mt. Cook? I don’t know…) we arrived at our hut, which was practically brand new. We went to bed around 9:30 and at 11 woke to the sounds of people outside. That’s right – about 40 people showed up after at least a few hours hiking in the dark. Some set up tents, some came inside, but the really crazy ones slept in their sleeping bags on the cold ground. Nuts!!!
The next morning we got up early and hiked to the saddle of the mountain, around where Dale and Alex stole the keys from PT. We hiked for a while and then found an awesome waterfall where we stopped for about 20 minutes, knowing that the boys would have to wait a bit for us at the end : ) We continued on the trail that was winding up and down, over and under crazy roots. We had a few close calls but no one seriously wiped out. By the end, though, all our legs were trembling from fatigue. I swear my muscles were sore for at least 3-4 days after our trip. The experience was awesome, though, and a great way to spend 6 days! That night we returned to Carie, our guardian angel, who made dinner for us all. It was spectacular! Thanks Care Bear : )
My Kind of Weekend
Hey everyone!
I had a pretty sweet weekend, so I thought I’d write about it, since I’m already sitting at my computer, having a sing-along with Coldplay and no doubt annoying Sina. In my defense though, at least it isn’t ELO. Anyway, some friends and I had been talking about going paintballing for awhile now, and on Friday we finally did! PT’s friend Dan set it up, and because it was a dismal rainy day, Nora and I ended up being the only ones going from our group. The paintball place Dan chose has a World War II theme. They divided the 21 of us into a team of 9 Americans (actual Americans + some Kiwis), and the other team had 12 Germans. I’m not sure how the teams got distributed so catty-wampus, but oh well. The first game was D-Day, and we had to charge the “beach” from the “landing craft,” and so on. We played 7 games like that, and then for the final game, we took turns sniping each other. It was hilarious. Nora was wounded worse than I was; I didn’t get hit as much because of my characteristic cowardly MO of taking shots from behind trees. Know how usually in the States the paintball refs say you have to demand surrender at a certain point rather than shoot someone from five feet away? Kiwis have no such rule. I got shot twice from like three feet away. Ouchies. Nothing like that yellow paintball bruise Rachel had for six weeks last spring, but it still hurts.
On Saturday, the sun finally came out after a week of rain, so Nora and I went to the park! We walked to the Botanic Gardens and all the way into town. We both took a ton pictures—after deleting the bad ones, I still have 70 or so of pretty flowers and such. We accidentally wandered onto Hereford Street, so naturally we had to go to the Coffee House. It’s tradition now.
DST started in New Zealand yesterday, so now we’re 17 hours ahead of the East Coast. We went whitewater rafting for our final Butler event yesterday, and the general consensus was that the morning we spring forward is a terrible day to get up for an event. Pete said that Kate requiring us to be up so early was like breaking up with someone on their birthday. I love Pete’s words of wisdom. Actually I was kind of excited, because Shelby, the Butler rep who took all of my panicked phone calls with study abroad questions last semester was joining us! She’s spending 2 or 3 weeks in New Zealand and Australia. She made the 2-hour bus ride to the Rangitata River even better because oh-my-goodness she brought Reese’s. Guess what, New Zealand does not have those. Kiwi candies, or lollies, are way too sugary and fruity for me. So if you feel inclined to send me a present (you know you want to), send Reese’s. Rachel’s mom already sent her some—thanks Beth : )
So, rafting was sweet as. It was pretty chilly, but they dressed us in thermals and wetsuits. It was my first time in a wetsuit, and I personally did not care for it. I looked and felt like a penguin. We divided up into four rafts. The bros got their own of course, and my raft consisted of Katie, Briana, Nora, Jas, and me. Our guide was a Kiwi named Bob, and he was delightfully inappropriate with his stories and comments. We loved him. One of the awesome things about sharing a raft with a bunch of girls (and Bob) was the freedom to SCREAM all the way through the rapids. Not in a terrified way, more in a celebratory way. We had rapids ranging from Class IIs to Vs. Super cool. I managed not to fall out of the raft, but I did fall into it a lot. Oops. Speaking of dysfunction, I was also too scared to jump off a 9-meter rock into the river. I made the mistake of looking over the edge first and then there was no way. I probably would have drowned anyway. You try swimming in such an ill-fitting wetsuit. I looked like a reflection in a funhouse mirror.
On the way home, I introduced Kate to Blue-Collar Comedy. I’m not sure whether it helped or hurt her already dim view of Americans. Warmed my heart, of course, but that’s because I miss the South so much. Today we started our fourth week of classes, so we’re ¾ of the way done with them! Bahaha it’s so exciting.
Keep the letters coming. We miss everyone!
love-
Carie and Rachel
I had a pretty sweet weekend, so I thought I’d write about it, since I’m already sitting at my computer, having a sing-along with Coldplay and no doubt annoying Sina. In my defense though, at least it isn’t ELO. Anyway, some friends and I had been talking about going paintballing for awhile now, and on Friday we finally did! PT’s friend Dan set it up, and because it was a dismal rainy day, Nora and I ended up being the only ones going from our group. The paintball place Dan chose has a World War II theme. They divided the 21 of us into a team of 9 Americans (actual Americans + some Kiwis), and the other team had 12 Germans. I’m not sure how the teams got distributed so catty-wampus, but oh well. The first game was D-Day, and we had to charge the “beach” from the “landing craft,” and so on. We played 7 games like that, and then for the final game, we took turns sniping each other. It was hilarious. Nora was wounded worse than I was; I didn’t get hit as much because of my characteristic cowardly MO of taking shots from behind trees. Know how usually in the States the paintball refs say you have to demand surrender at a certain point rather than shoot someone from five feet away? Kiwis have no such rule. I got shot twice from like three feet away. Ouchies. Nothing like that yellow paintball bruise Rachel had for six weeks last spring, but it still hurts.
On Saturday, the sun finally came out after a week of rain, so Nora and I went to the park! We walked to the Botanic Gardens and all the way into town. We both took a ton pictures—after deleting the bad ones, I still have 70 or so of pretty flowers and such. We accidentally wandered onto Hereford Street, so naturally we had to go to the Coffee House. It’s tradition now.
DST started in New Zealand yesterday, so now we’re 17 hours ahead of the East Coast. We went whitewater rafting for our final Butler event yesterday, and the general consensus was that the morning we spring forward is a terrible day to get up for an event. Pete said that Kate requiring us to be up so early was like breaking up with someone on their birthday. I love Pete’s words of wisdom. Actually I was kind of excited, because Shelby, the Butler rep who took all of my panicked phone calls with study abroad questions last semester was joining us! She’s spending 2 or 3 weeks in New Zealand and Australia. She made the 2-hour bus ride to the Rangitata River even better because oh-my-goodness she brought Reese’s. Guess what, New Zealand does not have those. Kiwi candies, or lollies, are way too sugary and fruity for me. So if you feel inclined to send me a present (you know you want to), send Reese’s. Rachel’s mom already sent her some—thanks Beth : )
So, rafting was sweet as. It was pretty chilly, but they dressed us in thermals and wetsuits. It was my first time in a wetsuit, and I personally did not care for it. I looked and felt like a penguin. We divided up into four rafts. The bros got their own of course, and my raft consisted of Katie, Briana, Nora, Jas, and me. Our guide was a Kiwi named Bob, and he was delightfully inappropriate with his stories and comments. We loved him. One of the awesome things about sharing a raft with a bunch of girls (and Bob) was the freedom to SCREAM all the way through the rapids. Not in a terrified way, more in a celebratory way. We had rapids ranging from Class IIs to Vs. Super cool. I managed not to fall out of the raft, but I did fall into it a lot. Oops. Speaking of dysfunction, I was also too scared to jump off a 9-meter rock into the river. I made the mistake of looking over the edge first and then there was no way. I probably would have drowned anyway. You try swimming in such an ill-fitting wetsuit. I looked like a reflection in a funhouse mirror.
On the way home, I introduced Kate to Blue-Collar Comedy. I’m not sure whether it helped or hurt her already dim view of Americans. Warmed my heart, of course, but that’s because I miss the South so much. Today we started our fourth week of classes, so we’re ¾ of the way done with them! Bahaha it’s so exciting.
Keep the letters coming. We miss everyone!
love-
Carie and Rachel
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Sexy Weekend (On the Farm)
Guess what guys. I finally went to the sheep farm. It was sweet as!
The farm, Glenmac, is a little ways outside the town of Oamaru, which is a few hours south of CHCH. We left on Friday afternoon, and on the bus, Alex decided to nickname our farm stay Sexy Weekend. Because he’s Alex. In Oamaru we met up with our fourth person, a girl named Ellen from the University of Otago in Dunedin. She is super cool! Ellen is a senior bio major at Butler in IN, and we bonded over music and being domestic. She also is really involved in Young Life so she’s familiar with IV. We were great roommates for the weekend!
A guy named Bruce had driven Ellen up from Dunedin, and he took us the rest of the way to Keith and Kaye’s farm. Bruce works as a shuttle driver along the eastern coast, so he told us a ton of cool stuff on the way to Glenmac. I immediately liked Bruce because he was wearing a hat with his family tartan on it, and I have one of those too! (Our tartan is prettier though. Sorry Bruce.) When we got to Glenmac it was already dark, so we just went ahead and ate dinner, which was amazing. One of the ways that IFSA sells Country Life Weekend is by going on and on about the home-cooked food. I was like whatever, big deal, I can cook my own delicious food. But I’ve been a little homesick, and you cannot underestimate the emotional power of a meal cooked by this sweet lady who’s telling you about her grandkids. Being at uni, I forget that there are families out there and people who sit around on a Friday night talking and drinking coffee with a rugby match on TV. Honestly this was the first cup of coffee I’d had in New Zealand that didn’t have a perfect foam replica of the Eiffel Tower or something on top, so instant coffee or not, it really warmed my heart. (Yes, I got emotional over a cup of coffee. So sue me. Coffee reminds me of my mommy.)
Ellen and I had a fight over who got to wash the dishes and she let me win, and we discovered that Kaye had this sick dishwasher that was in two halves and you could run them separately. Note to self, when I get my own house, I will need one of those. After dinner, we watched some rugby until everyone went to bed, and then the four of us stayed up well past midnight talking and drinking coffee. When we finally did get ready to turn in, I came back from brushing my teeth to a very confused Ellen:
“I had just taken my contacts out, but I think Alex just came in here in his underwear and told us to go look at the stars.”
(See, I told you it was sexy weekend.)
Because the angle of our window only afforded us a great view of some trees, Ellen and I went tiptoeing around the house in search of something better. In the living room, we peeked out the window and caught our breath. Not only were there a ton more stars than we’re used to, they were so bright and twinkly. Being out in the middle of nowhere, night-time means total darkness, especially with the new moon, and we were taken aback by the stars’ intensity.
We weren’t sure what time to be up, because Kaye had just told us “not too early,” but we had no idea what that meant. As a result, the next morning Ellen and I were lying in bed whispering like little kids on Christmas morning, “Do you think we can get up now?” “What do you reckon the boys are doing?” When we did venture out, we found Dale and Alex headed out the door to transport hay with Keith. Ellen and I decided that running outside in our sock feet on the wet grass to take pictures of the farm was a great idea (we are not the brightest). When we had eaten and dressed, we investigated the dog situation. Keith and Kay have at least five sheepdogs that are off limits, but they do have one regular pet dog named Penny, and we played with her while we waited for the menfolk to return. She was too cute! After the boys got back, we rode with them to Keith’s neighbour’s field, where he was storing some hay. We helped load a few loads into the truck, and then stuck around the pasture to take pictures while the guys drove the hay back to Glenmac. I had been excited about finally seeing sheep up close, but let me tell you something, sheep are a letdown. They are really skittish and apparently two girls in our early twenties are downright terrifying. So Ellen and I never got close enough for a decent photo, but I did take a bunch of the landscape while lying in my paintball stance. You get cool shots from ground level!
After such a taxing morning of doing pretty much nothing (ok, the boys had worked), we had last night’s leftovers and some soup for lunch. At this time of year, sheep shearing is over but lambing has yet to begin, so there wasn’t a whole lot for us to do on the farm, which was disappointing. When Kay offered us a choice between a forty-minute ride to watch a sheep-shearing competition and a few hours’ work in a nearby vineyard, we opted for the latter. The thought of voluntarily riding in a car with the prospect of tomorrow’s long bus ride back to CHCH was not appealing. We walked the 3 or so km to the vineyard, and we had to cross a stream. Dale and Alex put rocks into the river for me to step on so I wouldn’t get wet, but I did anyway. Fail.
Three of the other people staying at Glenmac over the weekend were investors in this vineyard. The main one, a man named Wal, was glad to have our help. There were thick plastic sleeves that had been protecting the vines, and Wal had us pull them apart and put them inside each other to save space. When we had finished that, he set us to work on the sleeves still on the vines. After a few hours of this, it was starting getting dark, so Wal loaded us into his truck for a drive around the plateau the vineyard sits on. The scenery is gorgeous in every direction. It’s incredible.
That night, one of the other men visiting Glenmac cooked a dinner of pork in ginger and soy and I don’t know what else but it was fantastic. I was tired and cold, but a hot delicious supper, a glass of Riesling, a shower and a little Norah Jones had me fast asleep in no time. Of course, first we watched the All Blacks absolutely whomp the Wallabies, Australia’s national rugby team (who are running neck and neck with Maryland and Richmond in the Stupidest Mascot Ever contest). It still makes me cry a little inside when I think about missing football season back home, but I really like rugby. It moves a lot faster than football. In rugby the play is continuous; we don’t have to stop and hold a conference every time somebody runs a play. And interceptions are frequent and not a big deal, so as a spectator it really cuts down on all the times I have to curse Riley Skinner during a game. Anyway, at 4 am Alex woke Ellen and me up to go outside and look at the stars again. We found a few familiar constellations, like Orion and the Southern Cross. It was super cool. After a mug of hot chocolate, we called it a night again.
In the morning, we packed up and Keith drove us up a hill so we could see how beautiful Oamaru is, wherever you look. It was amazing. We took a ton of pictures. Back at the farm, we said goodbye to Kaye and Keith and set off with Bruce. He stopped so we could check out some huge rocks on the way into town—first the Elephant Rocks and then the whale fossils. Bruce said that part of Narnia was filmed in the whale fossil place! Alex, Dale and Ellen are all into science, whereas my knowledge ends somewhere in Biology 101 with me falling asleep in class. So while they were looking at the cool rocks and plants and making intelligent remarks, I was contemplating the fact that the James McAvoy’s lingering presence made sexy weekend much sexier, Mr. Tumnus or not.
Ellen’s bus left at noon so we had to drop her off first, which was a bummer. Our own bus wasn’t coming til three, so Bruce took us to the beach to see the Moeraki boulders. Dale and Alex were super excited about them because apparently they’re alive and growing, or something, whatever. Instead of trying to understand, I found some cool shells on the beach. Bruce made fun of me because I thought it would be a good idea to pull a Briana Lane and throw myself down in the sand. Unfortunately the sand was quite wet (surprise, we were on a beach) and I got soaked. But the pictures I got in my paintball stance are sweet as, so it was worth it. (Rachel’s teaching me how to take better photos, but I’m a bit of a lost cause because having lost the instruction book, I know absolutely nothing about my little Nikon except that Ashton Kutcher advertises them.) So after the beach, Bruce took us on a drive through historic Oamaru, which was really interesting. Bruce knows his stuff. He put us on a double-decker bus to CHCH by 3, and I slept all the way home. It was lovely.
Coincidentally, Wal lives in CHCH and drives down to Oamaru to work on his vineyard every weekend. I got his number and I’m planning to go back with him sometime next month. I think Keith and Kaye just like having people around, because they jumped at having me over again. So I’m excited about that!
Y’all need to be more aggressive with Rachel, telling her to post on the blog. She has all these adventures without me and then she doesn’t write about them. Do not stand for this, people!
a whole lot of love-
Carie Mac
The farm, Glenmac, is a little ways outside the town of Oamaru, which is a few hours south of CHCH. We left on Friday afternoon, and on the bus, Alex decided to nickname our farm stay Sexy Weekend. Because he’s Alex. In Oamaru we met up with our fourth person, a girl named Ellen from the University of Otago in Dunedin. She is super cool! Ellen is a senior bio major at Butler in IN, and we bonded over music and being domestic. She also is really involved in Young Life so she’s familiar with IV. We were great roommates for the weekend!
A guy named Bruce had driven Ellen up from Dunedin, and he took us the rest of the way to Keith and Kaye’s farm. Bruce works as a shuttle driver along the eastern coast, so he told us a ton of cool stuff on the way to Glenmac. I immediately liked Bruce because he was wearing a hat with his family tartan on it, and I have one of those too! (Our tartan is prettier though. Sorry Bruce.) When we got to Glenmac it was already dark, so we just went ahead and ate dinner, which was amazing. One of the ways that IFSA sells Country Life Weekend is by going on and on about the home-cooked food. I was like whatever, big deal, I can cook my own delicious food. But I’ve been a little homesick, and you cannot underestimate the emotional power of a meal cooked by this sweet lady who’s telling you about her grandkids. Being at uni, I forget that there are families out there and people who sit around on a Friday night talking and drinking coffee with a rugby match on TV. Honestly this was the first cup of coffee I’d had in New Zealand that didn’t have a perfect foam replica of the Eiffel Tower or something on top, so instant coffee or not, it really warmed my heart. (Yes, I got emotional over a cup of coffee. So sue me. Coffee reminds me of my mommy.)
Ellen and I had a fight over who got to wash the dishes and she let me win, and we discovered that Kaye had this sick dishwasher that was in two halves and you could run them separately. Note to self, when I get my own house, I will need one of those. After dinner, we watched some rugby until everyone went to bed, and then the four of us stayed up well past midnight talking and drinking coffee. When we finally did get ready to turn in, I came back from brushing my teeth to a very confused Ellen:
“I had just taken my contacts out, but I think Alex just came in here in his underwear and told us to go look at the stars.”
(See, I told you it was sexy weekend.)
Because the angle of our window only afforded us a great view of some trees, Ellen and I went tiptoeing around the house in search of something better. In the living room, we peeked out the window and caught our breath. Not only were there a ton more stars than we’re used to, they were so bright and twinkly. Being out in the middle of nowhere, night-time means total darkness, especially with the new moon, and we were taken aback by the stars’ intensity.
We weren’t sure what time to be up, because Kaye had just told us “not too early,” but we had no idea what that meant. As a result, the next morning Ellen and I were lying in bed whispering like little kids on Christmas morning, “Do you think we can get up now?” “What do you reckon the boys are doing?” When we did venture out, we found Dale and Alex headed out the door to transport hay with Keith. Ellen and I decided that running outside in our sock feet on the wet grass to take pictures of the farm was a great idea (we are not the brightest). When we had eaten and dressed, we investigated the dog situation. Keith and Kay have at least five sheepdogs that are off limits, but they do have one regular pet dog named Penny, and we played with her while we waited for the menfolk to return. She was too cute! After the boys got back, we rode with them to Keith’s neighbour’s field, where he was storing some hay. We helped load a few loads into the truck, and then stuck around the pasture to take pictures while the guys drove the hay back to Glenmac. I had been excited about finally seeing sheep up close, but let me tell you something, sheep are a letdown. They are really skittish and apparently two girls in our early twenties are downright terrifying. So Ellen and I never got close enough for a decent photo, but I did take a bunch of the landscape while lying in my paintball stance. You get cool shots from ground level!
After such a taxing morning of doing pretty much nothing (ok, the boys had worked), we had last night’s leftovers and some soup for lunch. At this time of year, sheep shearing is over but lambing has yet to begin, so there wasn’t a whole lot for us to do on the farm, which was disappointing. When Kay offered us a choice between a forty-minute ride to watch a sheep-shearing competition and a few hours’ work in a nearby vineyard, we opted for the latter. The thought of voluntarily riding in a car with the prospect of tomorrow’s long bus ride back to CHCH was not appealing. We walked the 3 or so km to the vineyard, and we had to cross a stream. Dale and Alex put rocks into the river for me to step on so I wouldn’t get wet, but I did anyway. Fail.
Three of the other people staying at Glenmac over the weekend were investors in this vineyard. The main one, a man named Wal, was glad to have our help. There were thick plastic sleeves that had been protecting the vines, and Wal had us pull them apart and put them inside each other to save space. When we had finished that, he set us to work on the sleeves still on the vines. After a few hours of this, it was starting getting dark, so Wal loaded us into his truck for a drive around the plateau the vineyard sits on. The scenery is gorgeous in every direction. It’s incredible.
That night, one of the other men visiting Glenmac cooked a dinner of pork in ginger and soy and I don’t know what else but it was fantastic. I was tired and cold, but a hot delicious supper, a glass of Riesling, a shower and a little Norah Jones had me fast asleep in no time. Of course, first we watched the All Blacks absolutely whomp the Wallabies, Australia’s national rugby team (who are running neck and neck with Maryland and Richmond in the Stupidest Mascot Ever contest). It still makes me cry a little inside when I think about missing football season back home, but I really like rugby. It moves a lot faster than football. In rugby the play is continuous; we don’t have to stop and hold a conference every time somebody runs a play. And interceptions are frequent and not a big deal, so as a spectator it really cuts down on all the times I have to curse Riley Skinner during a game. Anyway, at 4 am Alex woke Ellen and me up to go outside and look at the stars again. We found a few familiar constellations, like Orion and the Southern Cross. It was super cool. After a mug of hot chocolate, we called it a night again.
In the morning, we packed up and Keith drove us up a hill so we could see how beautiful Oamaru is, wherever you look. It was amazing. We took a ton of pictures. Back at the farm, we said goodbye to Kaye and Keith and set off with Bruce. He stopped so we could check out some huge rocks on the way into town—first the Elephant Rocks and then the whale fossils. Bruce said that part of Narnia was filmed in the whale fossil place! Alex, Dale and Ellen are all into science, whereas my knowledge ends somewhere in Biology 101 with me falling asleep in class. So while they were looking at the cool rocks and plants and making intelligent remarks, I was contemplating the fact that the James McAvoy’s lingering presence made sexy weekend much sexier, Mr. Tumnus or not.
Ellen’s bus left at noon so we had to drop her off first, which was a bummer. Our own bus wasn’t coming til three, so Bruce took us to the beach to see the Moeraki boulders. Dale and Alex were super excited about them because apparently they’re alive and growing, or something, whatever. Instead of trying to understand, I found some cool shells on the beach. Bruce made fun of me because I thought it would be a good idea to pull a Briana Lane and throw myself down in the sand. Unfortunately the sand was quite wet (surprise, we were on a beach) and I got soaked. But the pictures I got in my paintball stance are sweet as, so it was worth it. (Rachel’s teaching me how to take better photos, but I’m a bit of a lost cause because having lost the instruction book, I know absolutely nothing about my little Nikon except that Ashton Kutcher advertises them.) So after the beach, Bruce took us on a drive through historic Oamaru, which was really interesting. Bruce knows his stuff. He put us on a double-decker bus to CHCH by 3, and I slept all the way home. It was lovely.
Coincidentally, Wal lives in CHCH and drives down to Oamaru to work on his vineyard every weekend. I got his number and I’m planning to go back with him sometime next month. I think Keith and Kaye just like having people around, because they jumped at having me over again. So I’m excited about that!
Y’all need to be more aggressive with Rachel, telling her to post on the blog. She has all these adventures without me and then she doesn’t write about them. Do not stand for this, people!
a whole lot of love-
Carie Mac
Monday, September 7, 2009
Spring Break Part Deux
Hey everyone!
I’m so excited to finally have news about my life in NZ—the second week of spring break was much more interesting than the first. The trampers came back Saturday afternoon, and they had their rental van for one more day, so we went on an adventure. We had lunch and beer samples at a brewery called Brew Moon, and further on up the road was Waipara Springs Winery, where we sampled maybe five wines. It was such a beautiful day to sit outside, be with friends and contemplate the characteristics of wine. I’m getting so educated in this country. Later that afternoon, Rachel’s dad flew in for a visit. He was in Sydney on business and it’s only a three-hour flight to Christchurch, so he stayed here for a few days. Bill is an excellent example of why I love it when other people’s parents come visit them: they buy stuff for everyone. Sunday night we went to a pub quiz and Bill treated us to dinner and drinks. (Disclaimer: it’s not normal for me to drink so much in a day, ok. Don’t judge.) We didn’t win the pub quiz—not even close—but it was really fun. There was one round where we had to match the pictures of dinosaurs to their names, which I dominated thanks to Scott’s childhood obsession. Okay, actually Matt dominated. I’m sure he went through his own dinosaur phase as a kid. However, had he not been there, I would have been the dinosaur champion.
Bill had rented a car, and on Monday he took Matt, Rachel and me to Akaroa, which is a historic French settlement on Banks Peninsula, further out than Diamond Harbour. It was so gorgeous! We walked around for a few hours and I took too many pictures, which may eventually reach the blog. But seeing as how my computer is probably lost somewhere in the wilds of New Zealand on its way to Auckland for the second time, don’t hold your breath. They are up on Facebook though.
The best part of break was the ROAD TRIP WITH RACHEL AND BRIANA! We drove around the northern coast of the south island and it was so much fun. I just want to point out two good things about road tripping with girls: no one cares that we stop for a bathroom break every hour, and everyone is totally fine to pull over for photo-ops every ten minutes because the country is too beautiful to be wasted. We left on Thursday morning in our rental car, named Milton (we vetoed Norbert), and drove to Kaikoura. We ate lunch there and then went on to Picton, which is a small town that sees a lot of backpackers coming through. We spent the night at a cute hostel called the Villa. We cooked pasta and Briana and I shared a nine-dollar bottle of wine, having made it our goal to find THE cheapest wine at the store. It wasn’t too bad, actually. Also, I should point out that the reason Rachel chose the Villa over other hostels was that they served free apple crumble. Win. We were all asleep by ten. Rachel got this creepy bedspread with a pattern of clown heads. Naturally Bri and I found this hilarious. So we took a picture.
The next morning we went to the shops in Picton and then down to the bay. Since Rachel of course wanted to interact with nature, we drove to Nelson Lakes National Park for a walk in the woods. We stopped for PB&J at a little spot next to the lake, which was gorgeous. We took a ton of pictures. From the park I drove (yes, I drove, and no one died) to the town of Nelson, which is bigger than Picton. We stayed at a sweet as hostel called the Paradiso, which has a pool! I want to go back to Nelson and stay there when the weather is warmer. Also, every time we walked past the reception desk, the radio was playing Bad Company or Journey or something. You can’t go wrong with this place. We made stir fry for dinner and Bri and I shared another cheap as bottle of wine. Whether or not one of us had more than her fair share of the wine and got a little buzzed is not part of this story.
The reason we stayed in Nelson Friday night was to shop at the market on Saturday morning! It was huge and we were there for probably three hours. I bought a bunch of Christmas presents. We met an Irish guy selling muffins, and when we told him were from North Carolina, he said he’d met James Taylor a couple times. How cool is that? We also ran into a group of kids we know from Canterbury who were on their way home from hiking. After we finished at the market, we took our giant bag of food to the beach and had a picnic on the sand. The colour of the ocean in New Zealand is a far cry from our muddy green Atlantic—it’s bright turquoise and breathtaking. Then we got on the road again and drove back to Kaikoura, where we spent the night at a hostel called the Lazy Shag. We had dinner at place called the Whaler, which we chose solely because Briana likes the beer they serve. The beer was definitely good, but the food was crummy—we all got steaks and they messed up our order. Plus when we’d been there for maybe fifteen minutes, this giant group of Aryans descended on the bar and apparently had some kind of family reunion. I don’t know about you but I had never seen a baby in a bar before. So we sat around and talked til we got sick of Club Copenhagen and went back to the hostel. We crashed early and Rachel and Bri went to the beach to watch the sunrise. I do not care for sunrises because if I’m seeing one, it means I’m up too early. Plus I saw their photos so it’s like I was there, right? Except I was warm in bed, so that actually makes me the winner.
After said sunrise, we checked out the shops in Kaikoura, then went on walk along a cliff and down to the beach. We saw a ton of cows and seals. Only in New Zealand do they live a stone’s throw from each other. We had PB&J on a giant rock out in the water, which afforded the most beautiful view of blue sea, blue mountains and blue sky. It has to be seen to be believed, which is why I came home from the trip with 440 pictures. After deleting the crummy ones, I still have 360. Thank goodness for external hard drives.
Today classes started back—six weeks to go!—and I rang in the new term by skipping Russian history to track down my computer. I think it’s in Auckland. Fingers crossed.
Everyone email Rachel and tell her to post the tale of her tramping trip, which is highly entertaining. Do it now.
love-
Carie
I’m so excited to finally have news about my life in NZ—the second week of spring break was much more interesting than the first. The trampers came back Saturday afternoon, and they had their rental van for one more day, so we went on an adventure. We had lunch and beer samples at a brewery called Brew Moon, and further on up the road was Waipara Springs Winery, where we sampled maybe five wines. It was such a beautiful day to sit outside, be with friends and contemplate the characteristics of wine. I’m getting so educated in this country. Later that afternoon, Rachel’s dad flew in for a visit. He was in Sydney on business and it’s only a three-hour flight to Christchurch, so he stayed here for a few days. Bill is an excellent example of why I love it when other people’s parents come visit them: they buy stuff for everyone. Sunday night we went to a pub quiz and Bill treated us to dinner and drinks. (Disclaimer: it’s not normal for me to drink so much in a day, ok. Don’t judge.) We didn’t win the pub quiz—not even close—but it was really fun. There was one round where we had to match the pictures of dinosaurs to their names, which I dominated thanks to Scott’s childhood obsession. Okay, actually Matt dominated. I’m sure he went through his own dinosaur phase as a kid. However, had he not been there, I would have been the dinosaur champion.
Bill had rented a car, and on Monday he took Matt, Rachel and me to Akaroa, which is a historic French settlement on Banks Peninsula, further out than Diamond Harbour. It was so gorgeous! We walked around for a few hours and I took too many pictures, which may eventually reach the blog. But seeing as how my computer is probably lost somewhere in the wilds of New Zealand on its way to Auckland for the second time, don’t hold your breath. They are up on Facebook though.
The best part of break was the ROAD TRIP WITH RACHEL AND BRIANA! We drove around the northern coast of the south island and it was so much fun. I just want to point out two good things about road tripping with girls: no one cares that we stop for a bathroom break every hour, and everyone is totally fine to pull over for photo-ops every ten minutes because the country is too beautiful to be wasted. We left on Thursday morning in our rental car, named Milton (we vetoed Norbert), and drove to Kaikoura. We ate lunch there and then went on to Picton, which is a small town that sees a lot of backpackers coming through. We spent the night at a cute hostel called the Villa. We cooked pasta and Briana and I shared a nine-dollar bottle of wine, having made it our goal to find THE cheapest wine at the store. It wasn’t too bad, actually. Also, I should point out that the reason Rachel chose the Villa over other hostels was that they served free apple crumble. Win. We were all asleep by ten. Rachel got this creepy bedspread with a pattern of clown heads. Naturally Bri and I found this hilarious. So we took a picture.
The next morning we went to the shops in Picton and then down to the bay. Since Rachel of course wanted to interact with nature, we drove to Nelson Lakes National Park for a walk in the woods. We stopped for PB&J at a little spot next to the lake, which was gorgeous. We took a ton of pictures. From the park I drove (yes, I drove, and no one died) to the town of Nelson, which is bigger than Picton. We stayed at a sweet as hostel called the Paradiso, which has a pool! I want to go back to Nelson and stay there when the weather is warmer. Also, every time we walked past the reception desk, the radio was playing Bad Company or Journey or something. You can’t go wrong with this place. We made stir fry for dinner and Bri and I shared another cheap as bottle of wine. Whether or not one of us had more than her fair share of the wine and got a little buzzed is not part of this story.
The reason we stayed in Nelson Friday night was to shop at the market on Saturday morning! It was huge and we were there for probably three hours. I bought a bunch of Christmas presents. We met an Irish guy selling muffins, and when we told him were from North Carolina, he said he’d met James Taylor a couple times. How cool is that? We also ran into a group of kids we know from Canterbury who were on their way home from hiking. After we finished at the market, we took our giant bag of food to the beach and had a picnic on the sand. The colour of the ocean in New Zealand is a far cry from our muddy green Atlantic—it’s bright turquoise and breathtaking. Then we got on the road again and drove back to Kaikoura, where we spent the night at a hostel called the Lazy Shag. We had dinner at place called the Whaler, which we chose solely because Briana likes the beer they serve. The beer was definitely good, but the food was crummy—we all got steaks and they messed up our order. Plus when we’d been there for maybe fifteen minutes, this giant group of Aryans descended on the bar and apparently had some kind of family reunion. I don’t know about you but I had never seen a baby in a bar before. So we sat around and talked til we got sick of Club Copenhagen and went back to the hostel. We crashed early and Rachel and Bri went to the beach to watch the sunrise. I do not care for sunrises because if I’m seeing one, it means I’m up too early. Plus I saw their photos so it’s like I was there, right? Except I was warm in bed, so that actually makes me the winner.
After said sunrise, we checked out the shops in Kaikoura, then went on walk along a cliff and down to the beach. We saw a ton of cows and seals. Only in New Zealand do they live a stone’s throw from each other. We had PB&J on a giant rock out in the water, which afforded the most beautiful view of blue sea, blue mountains and blue sky. It has to be seen to be believed, which is why I came home from the trip with 440 pictures. After deleting the crummy ones, I still have 360. Thank goodness for external hard drives.
Today classes started back—six weeks to go!—and I rang in the new term by skipping Russian history to track down my computer. I think it’s in Auckland. Fingers crossed.
Everyone email Rachel and tell her to post the tale of her tramping trip, which is highly entertaining. Do it now.
love-
Carie
Friday, August 28, 2009
Spring Break 2009, Take Two
Hey everyone!
Okay, since certain people have been bugging me about the blog and not accepting my I-never-do-anything-worth-posting excuse, I guess I’ll have to write something, lest Allison decides to come after me. Incidentally, I received a package from her today, containing Pop-Tarts (which they do NOT have in this country), Gushers, an amazing mix CD, and a two-page letter. I would not complain if anyone else felt like sending similar presents my way, just saying.
It’s the first Friday of spring break—read it and weep, kids, I have TWO weeks of SPRING break when you’re all starting classes in the Southern heat. Heck yes. I was planning to go tramping with Rachel, Dale, Alex, Matt, PT and Nora this week, but then at the last minute I remembered that I forgot that I hate being so intimate with nature and not being able to shower on a regular basis. Plus, every group of adventurers needs someone to play mom for them, making dinner when they get back and calling in the state troopers, or whatever they have in this country, if they fail to make it home on time. I am gladly filling this role. The moral of this story is that if one is not outdoorsy, one should avoid New Zealand. Guess I missed the memo. Love for the Lord of the Rings will only take you so far; I should really be in Europe looking at art. But since I am here, I’m enjoying all the fantastic people I’ve met and the beautiful scenery that still takes me by surprise every time I look outside. If I squint, I can see the Southern Alps from my bedroom window. How cool is that? And now that the weather is warming up, it will only get better.
On Tuesday, my friend Katie and I went into town and had breakfast, then wandered CHCH for a few hours. It was an absolutely gorgeous day. We decided to take the ferry from Lyttelton to Diamond Harbour, which I did once before with Jas, but it’s so beautiful there that I would go again and again. Also, it’s two dollars for ice cream. You can’t go wrong. Other than my pictures from Diamond Harbour, I don’t have much to show for this week. Rachel kindly lent me her computer, as mine has finally made it to Auckland via courier post, but they’re waiting on a new fan to arrive (good thing we’re right next to Asia, where the fan lives). I’m good friends with the Lenovo technicians in Auckland now. I call them all the time to ask about their progress on my stupid Thinkpad, so we’re on a first-name basis. There may or may not have been a day this week that I spent five hours chatting on Skype. God bless Rachel is all I have to say about that. Tomorrow I’m going back into town to check out a three-story used bookstore, and I’m so excited! (Even if I am taking a break from English classes this semester, I’m still a huge nerd when it comes to reading.) Also, the craftsy people will be out in full force at the Arts Centre, and I’m going to spend my hiking money on cool stuff for Christmas presents. Yes, I am already thinking about Christmas, so sue me. I love Christmas. Katie and I are planning to throw a Christmas party sometime next month, because we can. It’s going to be sweet as.
I haven’t been totally lazy this week. I wrote a 1500-word paper on Russian history. I started it a week ago, and the topic was so straightforward that a child could have written it. But being a horrible procrastinator, naturally I didn’t finish it until last night and then turned it in at 10 til 5 today. I really can’t be blamed, considering the staggering volume of Scrubs episodes they have on Youtube. And the Roman myth paper our lecturer told us to start a month ago? Started and finished it in one day. I am that good. Okay, Rachel is far more impressive, writing both these papers in the span of three days, while still getting ready for a week of tramping. We’ve both decided that with two years of double-majoring at Work Forest under our belts, a stint in New Zealand public education system is a piece of cake. We work hard on essays and tests, but day-to-day reading is really a waste of time. Why read in excruciating detail about Russian architecture when you could be watching Anastasia, or baking cookies while having a dance party? This is what we figure.
We’ve almost reached the halfway point of our time here already, not that I’m counting. As hard as it is to believe, classes are half done, with another six weeks to go before we finish on 16 October. I’m excited about the month of September, because it goes like this: another week off (road trip perhaps?) and three weeks of class, during which I have two 500-word assignments due—read: I’ll spend perhaps an hour on schoolwork next month—then I finally have my weekend on the sheep farm with Dale and Alex, and the weekend after that, our whole group is going river rafting. I’m so pumped. October is going to be a little more intense: four essays, a test, and a final. I have 11 days between the end of classes and that first final, so I might go WWOOFing for a week. Willing Workers On Organic Farms is an organization that will set you up at a farm, vineyard, etc. where you’ll work in exchange for room and board. If I like the sheep farm people, I might just go back there for a bit. We’ll see. Rachel and Briana and I are thinking of flying to Sydney for a few days between exams as well, as if I ever study for finals anyway.
Oh yeah, if anyone wants to help me enjoy the one football game of the season I can experience live, let me know, and my Pops will get seats for Wake at Duke on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Dad says the entire Duke team just had the swine flu, and hopefully they will play even worse that usual this season! Fingers crossed.
Please, please, please help me harass Rachel into writing about her tramp on the blog, for heaven’s sakes.
One last thing: I would like to compliment the Intervarsity gossip chain for its ridiculously fast timing at getting news to me on the other side of the world. Well done, people!
love, hugs and kisses-
Carie Mac
Okay, since certain people have been bugging me about the blog and not accepting my I-never-do-anything-worth-posting excuse, I guess I’ll have to write something, lest Allison decides to come after me. Incidentally, I received a package from her today, containing Pop-Tarts (which they do NOT have in this country), Gushers, an amazing mix CD, and a two-page letter. I would not complain if anyone else felt like sending similar presents my way, just saying.
It’s the first Friday of spring break—read it and weep, kids, I have TWO weeks of SPRING break when you’re all starting classes in the Southern heat. Heck yes. I was planning to go tramping with Rachel, Dale, Alex, Matt, PT and Nora this week, but then at the last minute I remembered that I forgot that I hate being so intimate with nature and not being able to shower on a regular basis. Plus, every group of adventurers needs someone to play mom for them, making dinner when they get back and calling in the state troopers, or whatever they have in this country, if they fail to make it home on time. I am gladly filling this role. The moral of this story is that if one is not outdoorsy, one should avoid New Zealand. Guess I missed the memo. Love for the Lord of the Rings will only take you so far; I should really be in Europe looking at art. But since I am here, I’m enjoying all the fantastic people I’ve met and the beautiful scenery that still takes me by surprise every time I look outside. If I squint, I can see the Southern Alps from my bedroom window. How cool is that? And now that the weather is warming up, it will only get better.
On Tuesday, my friend Katie and I went into town and had breakfast, then wandered CHCH for a few hours. It was an absolutely gorgeous day. We decided to take the ferry from Lyttelton to Diamond Harbour, which I did once before with Jas, but it’s so beautiful there that I would go again and again. Also, it’s two dollars for ice cream. You can’t go wrong. Other than my pictures from Diamond Harbour, I don’t have much to show for this week. Rachel kindly lent me her computer, as mine has finally made it to Auckland via courier post, but they’re waiting on a new fan to arrive (good thing we’re right next to Asia, where the fan lives). I’m good friends with the Lenovo technicians in Auckland now. I call them all the time to ask about their progress on my stupid Thinkpad, so we’re on a first-name basis. There may or may not have been a day this week that I spent five hours chatting on Skype. God bless Rachel is all I have to say about that. Tomorrow I’m going back into town to check out a three-story used bookstore, and I’m so excited! (Even if I am taking a break from English classes this semester, I’m still a huge nerd when it comes to reading.) Also, the craftsy people will be out in full force at the Arts Centre, and I’m going to spend my hiking money on cool stuff for Christmas presents. Yes, I am already thinking about Christmas, so sue me. I love Christmas. Katie and I are planning to throw a Christmas party sometime next month, because we can. It’s going to be sweet as.
I haven’t been totally lazy this week. I wrote a 1500-word paper on Russian history. I started it a week ago, and the topic was so straightforward that a child could have written it. But being a horrible procrastinator, naturally I didn’t finish it until last night and then turned it in at 10 til 5 today. I really can’t be blamed, considering the staggering volume of Scrubs episodes they have on Youtube. And the Roman myth paper our lecturer told us to start a month ago? Started and finished it in one day. I am that good. Okay, Rachel is far more impressive, writing both these papers in the span of three days, while still getting ready for a week of tramping. We’ve both decided that with two years of double-majoring at Work Forest under our belts, a stint in New Zealand public education system is a piece of cake. We work hard on essays and tests, but day-to-day reading is really a waste of time. Why read in excruciating detail about Russian architecture when you could be watching Anastasia, or baking cookies while having a dance party? This is what we figure.
We’ve almost reached the halfway point of our time here already, not that I’m counting. As hard as it is to believe, classes are half done, with another six weeks to go before we finish on 16 October. I’m excited about the month of September, because it goes like this: another week off (road trip perhaps?) and three weeks of class, during which I have two 500-word assignments due—read: I’ll spend perhaps an hour on schoolwork next month—then I finally have my weekend on the sheep farm with Dale and Alex, and the weekend after that, our whole group is going river rafting. I’m so pumped. October is going to be a little more intense: four essays, a test, and a final. I have 11 days between the end of classes and that first final, so I might go WWOOFing for a week. Willing Workers On Organic Farms is an organization that will set you up at a farm, vineyard, etc. where you’ll work in exchange for room and board. If I like the sheep farm people, I might just go back there for a bit. We’ll see. Rachel and Briana and I are thinking of flying to Sydney for a few days between exams as well, as if I ever study for finals anyway.
Oh yeah, if anyone wants to help me enjoy the one football game of the season I can experience live, let me know, and my Pops will get seats for Wake at Duke on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Dad says the entire Duke team just had the swine flu, and hopefully they will play even worse that usual this season! Fingers crossed.
Please, please, please help me harass Rachel into writing about her tramp on the blog, for heaven’s sakes.
One last thing: I would like to compliment the Intervarsity gossip chain for its ridiculously fast timing at getting news to me on the other side of the world. Well done, people!
love, hugs and kisses-
Carie Mac
Saturday, August 15, 2009
A chill couple of weeks in NZ
Hey everyone,
Time for another update from En-Zed, although we have been pretty low-key these past few weeks and there's not much to say. I'm supposed to be reading The Odyssey, so naturally I'm finding other things to do. The weather this weekend has been miserable, cold and grey and depressing. Rachel is out tramping in the rain! She would be. She's become a tramping fiend. The rest of us staying at Ilam over the weekend are having fun though- we went to a rugby match on Friday night, and Canterbury absolutely massacred the other team. We got the cheapest seats, for $16, and sat wherever we wanted because the stadium wasn't full. It's not the same as football, but rugby helps cheer me up about missing Wake's football season. Last night Nora bought The Fellowship of the Ring: three hours of group bonding : ) Also, last Wednesday, Alex, Jas, Nora, PT and I went to hear some Beethoven piano/cello sonatas at the Arts Centre, which was awesome. We like to get our culture on.
So, last weekend was the adventure weekend, which I hear was a lot of fun. They rode four-wheelers for part of it and also went to Kaikoura and saw baby seals. (If you happen to talk to Rach, try to make her write her own post. I can't keep writing about all these events I didn't go on! I'm not that good!) Here's what I was doing last weekend: writing an eight-pg paper on the role of women in Nazi Germany. Enough said. Rachel and I have a paper on Ovid due for classics this week (Rach also has like three others due this week), which our grumpy American prof told us to start on a month ago, but being Wake students, we haven't looked at the assignment since she handed it out. I should probably find that. Writing it will be tricky seeing as how my Thinkpad bit the dust yesterday, and I may have to send it back to Wake for repairs. I love my life. Fortunately I have a ton of great friends here who are very generous with their computers. One more week of classes and we're out for a two-week spring break! Still not sure what we're doing for that. Knowing us, we'll decide next Saturday or so.
Thanks to everyone who has written us letters! Seriously, it makes our day, and we will write you back.
love, love, love-
Carie and Rachel
Time for another update from En-Zed, although we have been pretty low-key these past few weeks and there's not much to say. I'm supposed to be reading The Odyssey, so naturally I'm finding other things to do. The weather this weekend has been miserable, cold and grey and depressing. Rachel is out tramping in the rain! She would be. She's become a tramping fiend. The rest of us staying at Ilam over the weekend are having fun though- we went to a rugby match on Friday night, and Canterbury absolutely massacred the other team. We got the cheapest seats, for $16, and sat wherever we wanted because the stadium wasn't full. It's not the same as football, but rugby helps cheer me up about missing Wake's football season. Last night Nora bought The Fellowship of the Ring: three hours of group bonding : ) Also, last Wednesday, Alex, Jas, Nora, PT and I went to hear some Beethoven piano/cello sonatas at the Arts Centre, which was awesome. We like to get our culture on.
So, last weekend was the adventure weekend, which I hear was a lot of fun. They rode four-wheelers for part of it and also went to Kaikoura and saw baby seals. (If you happen to talk to Rach, try to make her write her own post. I can't keep writing about all these events I didn't go on! I'm not that good!) Here's what I was doing last weekend: writing an eight-pg paper on the role of women in Nazi Germany. Enough said. Rachel and I have a paper on Ovid due for classics this week (Rach also has like three others due this week), which our grumpy American prof told us to start on a month ago, but being Wake students, we haven't looked at the assignment since she handed it out. I should probably find that. Writing it will be tricky seeing as how my Thinkpad bit the dust yesterday, and I may have to send it back to Wake for repairs. I love my life. Fortunately I have a ton of great friends here who are very generous with their computers. One more week of classes and we're out for a two-week spring break! Still not sure what we're doing for that. Knowing us, we'll decide next Saturday or so.
Thanks to everyone who has written us letters! Seriously, it makes our day, and we will write you back.
love, love, love-
Carie and Rachel
Monday, August 3, 2009
Reflections on Nature, School, Cookies, etc.
Hey everyone!
This past weekend I bummed around CHCH and Rachel went tramping with CUTC. Her group got pulled down by the current in the river and her Nikon more or less drowned : ( Frankly we're all more impressed with the bruises on her legs. Her paintball wounds from this past spring can't hold a candle to the battle scars she'll have to remember this adventure. They bushwhacked a trail for themselves, getting pretty scratched up by thorns in the process, and Rach still has splinters in her hands. She's going to write a post with more details hopefully soon.
While Rach was out risking life and limb, I was pretty much sitting in my flat watching Scrubs on Youtube. Sounds like us, right? On Sunday, though, I went to a nearby town called Lyttelton with my friend Jas, where we took a ferry then walked around looking at nature for a few hours. I'll put up some pictures of that soon. It was nice to get out of Ilam, although I should have been working on my two essays about the Iliad. (But who are we kidding, I'm not going to finish those til it's absolutely necessary.) I'm so not in school mode right now, and I'm determined not to be until, say, February, when Wake picks up and I'm taking seminars for my majors and there's no escaping it.
I've given it a lot of thought and decided that while nature is very lovely, I mainly prefer it in small nonfatal doses. One of my favorite things to do is walk around in the woods for a few hours, but after that I go back to civilization. Basically what we can draw from this is that I'm studying abroad in the wrong country. Everyone in New Zealand loves nature like it's their job. Rachel fits right in. It's become a joke between us. Last night someone asked if I was going to do snowcraft with CUTC- that is, learn how to camp and tramp in snow- and before I even answered Rachel died laughing, picturing me out in the wilderness wielding an ice ax. (It is kind of a hilarious image.) Actually the first thing she told me when she got back from her tramp this weekend was that I would have hated it because I'm too short for bushwhacking. This did not upset me. I'm ok with my homebody-ness, e.g., last night was a lot of fun because Rachel and I camped out in Matt's flat for six hours because he has an oven (also we love him) and baked a lot. Being domestic is therapeutic; it makes one feel accomplished. The three of us each made a different kind of cookie and I also made muffins for Navs, which is the campus ministry we are trying out. I really like it. Rach is still on the fence. They're a great group of people for sure, but I miss IV tons.
Our group from Butler has a choice between two weekend trips that are part of the package so they're paid for: an adventure weekend wherein you four-wheel to some hot springs, or a country weekend on a sheep farm. Although Rach and I wish we could do both, we decided to go on different trips and I bet you can't guess who picked which one. The adventure trip is this weekend, so I'll be on campus by myself. The two others kids going to the farm weekend with me, Dale and Alex, are going on the aforementioned snowcraft trip this weekend.
Oh yeah, we got our exam schedules. We each have three. This is how NZ does university semesters: you have class for a month and a half, then a two-week break, then another month and a half of class, then you have a MONTH off for exams. It's sweet as. Seeing as how I'm one of those people who can't make themselves do work in any sort of timely fashion and just studies the day before for every test she has, a month to "study" is going to be awesome.
Thinking of all you suckers as you head back to your REAL colleges where you'll have to do tons of work, ha ha ha-
a whole lot of love-
Carie and Rachel
This past weekend I bummed around CHCH and Rachel went tramping with CUTC. Her group got pulled down by the current in the river and her Nikon more or less drowned : ( Frankly we're all more impressed with the bruises on her legs. Her paintball wounds from this past spring can't hold a candle to the battle scars she'll have to remember this adventure. They bushwhacked a trail for themselves, getting pretty scratched up by thorns in the process, and Rach still has splinters in her hands. She's going to write a post with more details hopefully soon.
While Rach was out risking life and limb, I was pretty much sitting in my flat watching Scrubs on Youtube. Sounds like us, right? On Sunday, though, I went to a nearby town called Lyttelton with my friend Jas, where we took a ferry then walked around looking at nature for a few hours. I'll put up some pictures of that soon. It was nice to get out of Ilam, although I should have been working on my two essays about the Iliad. (But who are we kidding, I'm not going to finish those til it's absolutely necessary.) I'm so not in school mode right now, and I'm determined not to be until, say, February, when Wake picks up and I'm taking seminars for my majors and there's no escaping it.
I've given it a lot of thought and decided that while nature is very lovely, I mainly prefer it in small nonfatal doses. One of my favorite things to do is walk around in the woods for a few hours, but after that I go back to civilization. Basically what we can draw from this is that I'm studying abroad in the wrong country. Everyone in New Zealand loves nature like it's their job. Rachel fits right in. It's become a joke between us. Last night someone asked if I was going to do snowcraft with CUTC- that is, learn how to camp and tramp in snow- and before I even answered Rachel died laughing, picturing me out in the wilderness wielding an ice ax. (It is kind of a hilarious image.) Actually the first thing she told me when she got back from her tramp this weekend was that I would have hated it because I'm too short for bushwhacking. This did not upset me. I'm ok with my homebody-ness, e.g., last night was a lot of fun because Rachel and I camped out in Matt's flat for six hours because he has an oven (also we love him) and baked a lot. Being domestic is therapeutic; it makes one feel accomplished. The three of us each made a different kind of cookie and I also made muffins for Navs, which is the campus ministry we are trying out. I really like it. Rach is still on the fence. They're a great group of people for sure, but I miss IV tons.
Our group from Butler has a choice between two weekend trips that are part of the package so they're paid for: an adventure weekend wherein you four-wheel to some hot springs, or a country weekend on a sheep farm. Although Rach and I wish we could do both, we decided to go on different trips and I bet you can't guess who picked which one. The adventure trip is this weekend, so I'll be on campus by myself. The two others kids going to the farm weekend with me, Dale and Alex, are going on the aforementioned snowcraft trip this weekend.
Oh yeah, we got our exam schedules. We each have three. This is how NZ does university semesters: you have class for a month and a half, then a two-week break, then another month and a half of class, then you have a MONTH off for exams. It's sweet as. Seeing as how I'm one of those people who can't make themselves do work in any sort of timely fashion and just studies the day before for every test she has, a month to "study" is going to be awesome.
Thinking of all you suckers as you head back to your REAL colleges where you'll have to do tons of work, ha ha ha-
a whole lot of love-
Carie and Rachel
Monday, July 27, 2009
Otehake Springs
Hey everyone!
Rachel and I finally went on an adventure with the Tramping Club (CUTC) this past weekend! She took a bunch of pictures, whereas I got to our starting point and realized my camera was dead. Epic fail.
Three other kids from our Butler group came on the trip too—Jasmine, Dale and Nora. Jas had never been tramping before, but Dale and Nora are fairly experienced, so we were in good hands. There were about forty people in all. We rode in vans for about two hours Saturday morning and then started off on our hike to Otehake Springs, natural hot pools in Arthur’s Pass National Park. Brian, the trip leader, said that the trip would be fairly easy. Brian lied. It was actually quite pleasant at first, since we were walking on a gravel road. But soon enough it was time to cross the river, which we did a number of times (sixty-five thousand, at a conservative estimate) over the next day and a half. It wasn’t so bad when the water was just up to our ankles or knees, but a few times it came past my ribs. Short people shouldn’t go river-crossing, or hiking in general. We tramped for a while through dense woods mainly consisting, from my angle, of tree roots, mud and thorns. In retrospect, though, the woods were the least taxing part of the whole hike. The incline became really steep by the end of the day, and being 5’2” on a hill like that pretty much necessitates climbing on your hands and knees, so I was sure that by the end of the trip my knees would look like Hannibal Lector got ahold of them. They’re not really so bad, but I now have a serious new appreciation for level ground. Dale had brought river-crossing poles, and he took pity on me and lent me one for the rest of the tramp. It was great, like having a third leg. The high point of the day was definitely when a girl came up to me and said, “I haven’t met you yet, but I just wanted to tell you that I think you look like Rachel McAdams.” I replied, “I haven’t met you yet, but I love you.” For those of you who are cultural holdouts and haven’t seen Wedding Crashers, Rachel McAdams is a beautiful actress whom I apparently resemble when I’m wearing ill-fitting clothes, no makeup, and a lot of sweat and dirt. Don’t worry, I’m not planning to make that a regular thing. Anyway, we finished our hike to the hot pools in the dark—poor Rachel had to cross the river in the dark—but the upside was that we got to use our sweet head lamps. Those things are so wonderful. Rach and I are like little kids at Christmas with our headlamps.
After climbing up to our campsite, we pitched our tents in the dark and then a lot of people changed into bathing suits and hopped into the hot pools. Being from the South, Rach and I are not quite that hardcore when it comes to the cold, so we decided not to strip down outside on a winter night in New Zealand. But we did sit around with our feet in the pools for a few hours and helped some of the guys put away the wine they had brought. Dale brought a bottle of Villa Maria, because he’s awesome. Some of the Kiwis had brought an iPod and speakers, and I think they played the entire works of the Chili Peppers. Afterward it was snuggle time in the tents. We had borrowed a CUTC tent for the four of us girls, which turned out to barely fit three of us, so I begged a spot in a tent with one of the group leaders, Monique. There were eventually five of us in her three-man tent. We had two Americans join us, Luke and Julia; Luke told me that he doesn’t usually sleep with a girl on the first date, but it was so cold that he would make an exception. After we were all cozy in the tent, some guy came straight from the hot pools in his swim trunks and hopped in next to Monique, so we were mighty cramped. I think I slept for maybe an hour or two. Julia actually left in the middle of the night and slept outside rather than endure our snuggle fest. Rachel said her tent was pretty cramped too, but that she slept well anyway.
Sunday morning, Brian told us we were taking the “easy way” back home. I think I already mentioned that Brian is a liar, yeah? Well, I suppose this way was, technically, easier. It was fairly flat, and anything would be better than climbing back up Saturday’s hill from hell. We basically just followed the river home, which meant crossing from side to side to find the best place for walking when your two choices are wet rocks and dry rocks. Let me tell you something about rocks. Big rocks are okay to walk on; leapfrogging on them is actually fun and a fairly quick way to travel. Little gravelly rocks are fine too. But medium-size rocks are impossible, because they aren’t stable enough to really walk on, so you have to walk between them, and after a few hours your feet are threatening mutiny. I was really thankful that my hiking boots came up so high, or I’m sure I would have twisted an ankle. I said a lot of bad words to those rocks. We sometimes came upon grass, and I was more thankful to see grass than I ever have been in my life. We walked for a while on mossy, rocky ground that looked just like the landscape in that scene in The Two Towers where Sam is cooking rabbits and then he and Frodo get captured by Faramir. (I am such a Lord of the Rings dork, I admit it.) In fact, you’re probably thinking, at least we got to see some beautiful scenery, right? False. The only scenery I saw was the rocks I was walking on. I scrutinized the heck out of those rocks, lest I fall again and do some more damage to my knees. No, actually, it was beautiful out there. Although the rocks put me in mind of Mordor more than anything else, we were tramping around the Southern Alps, where Peter Jackson filmed a fair amount of movies scenes, including the ones in Edoras and Pelennor Fields. They filmed most of the movies on the North Island, actually. And I promise I don’t just know this stuff off the top of my head. I’m not Leslie Venable : ) I just found a sweet website with a map of NZ and you can click on locations and it tells you which LOTR scenes were filmed there: http://www.filmnz.com/middleearth/locations/index.html. You know you want to check it out.
The Sunday hike was a little scary because we were walking on a rocky road for hours, and we weren’t sure that we were going the right way. Every so often, we’d hear a rustle and Brian would lope out of the woods, as if he’d just Apparated from a Red Bull factory, and say, “How’s it going?” Then he would disappear again. There was another experienced tramper named Sam bringing up the rear, but we were mostly just betting on the fact that the road would bring us back home. When we started seeing cow patties, we got excited, because cows = farms = people = civilization. And sure enough, we caught up to the rest of the group, and from there it was a quick walk back to the vans. Of course, there was a deep river crossing first, and I’m pretty sure that’s where I lost Mom’s gloves. Oops. (I’ll buy you some nice Merino ones for Christmas!) But then we drove to a café at Arthur’s Pass a little ways down the road and to warm up and reconvene, and two hours later we were home. The ride home was fun because a) I was sitting down and b) Sam put on a station that played American classic rock, and he and I had a discussion about how women should not be involved in rock music, ever, when “Barracuda” came on. Sorry, Mom. Also, I dozed off at one point and woke up to the Bohemian Rhapsody—not so much Freddie Mercury as the entire van going, “MOMMAAAA! OOOOOOOH!” in about three different keys. When we got back, we had showers and then Nora made the five of us dinner. I love Nora. She is wonderful.
So, to sum up, a few hours into Sunday’s tramp, Jas and I had the following exchange:
Me: “How do you like tramping?”
Jas: “It’s awesome. It’s the greatest experience of my life. So fantastic, in fact, that I will probably never do it again.”
I was feeling really crummy after the hike, like I’m the worst tramper in NZ (probably true), but Dale said it was more intense than even he was expecting, so I felt better. I’m alive, after all, and now that I can feel all my extremities again, I’m starting to forget how horrible it was. Rachel did a lot better than I did, because she’s the Little Engine That Could, whereas I was always last and I’m thinking of officially changing my name to The Caboose. I mean, I like nature as much as the next guy—unless the next guy is Bear Grylls—but I think day tramps may be the best way for me to go. I’m quite attached to civilization. Except tramping means I might get to use my head lamp, which makes it pretty darned worth it.
lots of love-
also write us letters-
Carie and Rachel
Rachel and I finally went on an adventure with the Tramping Club (CUTC) this past weekend! She took a bunch of pictures, whereas I got to our starting point and realized my camera was dead. Epic fail.
Three other kids from our Butler group came on the trip too—Jasmine, Dale and Nora. Jas had never been tramping before, but Dale and Nora are fairly experienced, so we were in good hands. There were about forty people in all. We rode in vans for about two hours Saturday morning and then started off on our hike to Otehake Springs, natural hot pools in Arthur’s Pass National Park. Brian, the trip leader, said that the trip would be fairly easy. Brian lied. It was actually quite pleasant at first, since we were walking on a gravel road. But soon enough it was time to cross the river, which we did a number of times (sixty-five thousand, at a conservative estimate) over the next day and a half. It wasn’t so bad when the water was just up to our ankles or knees, but a few times it came past my ribs. Short people shouldn’t go river-crossing, or hiking in general. We tramped for a while through dense woods mainly consisting, from my angle, of tree roots, mud and thorns. In retrospect, though, the woods were the least taxing part of the whole hike. The incline became really steep by the end of the day, and being 5’2” on a hill like that pretty much necessitates climbing on your hands and knees, so I was sure that by the end of the trip my knees would look like Hannibal Lector got ahold of them. They’re not really so bad, but I now have a serious new appreciation for level ground. Dale had brought river-crossing poles, and he took pity on me and lent me one for the rest of the tramp. It was great, like having a third leg. The high point of the day was definitely when a girl came up to me and said, “I haven’t met you yet, but I just wanted to tell you that I think you look like Rachel McAdams.” I replied, “I haven’t met you yet, but I love you.” For those of you who are cultural holdouts and haven’t seen Wedding Crashers, Rachel McAdams is a beautiful actress whom I apparently resemble when I’m wearing ill-fitting clothes, no makeup, and a lot of sweat and dirt. Don’t worry, I’m not planning to make that a regular thing. Anyway, we finished our hike to the hot pools in the dark—poor Rachel had to cross the river in the dark—but the upside was that we got to use our sweet head lamps. Those things are so wonderful. Rach and I are like little kids at Christmas with our headlamps.
After climbing up to our campsite, we pitched our tents in the dark and then a lot of people changed into bathing suits and hopped into the hot pools. Being from the South, Rach and I are not quite that hardcore when it comes to the cold, so we decided not to strip down outside on a winter night in New Zealand. But we did sit around with our feet in the pools for a few hours and helped some of the guys put away the wine they had brought. Dale brought a bottle of Villa Maria, because he’s awesome. Some of the Kiwis had brought an iPod and speakers, and I think they played the entire works of the Chili Peppers. Afterward it was snuggle time in the tents. We had borrowed a CUTC tent for the four of us girls, which turned out to barely fit three of us, so I begged a spot in a tent with one of the group leaders, Monique. There were eventually five of us in her three-man tent. We had two Americans join us, Luke and Julia; Luke told me that he doesn’t usually sleep with a girl on the first date, but it was so cold that he would make an exception. After we were all cozy in the tent, some guy came straight from the hot pools in his swim trunks and hopped in next to Monique, so we were mighty cramped. I think I slept for maybe an hour or two. Julia actually left in the middle of the night and slept outside rather than endure our snuggle fest. Rachel said her tent was pretty cramped too, but that she slept well anyway.
Sunday morning, Brian told us we were taking the “easy way” back home. I think I already mentioned that Brian is a liar, yeah? Well, I suppose this way was, technically, easier. It was fairly flat, and anything would be better than climbing back up Saturday’s hill from hell. We basically just followed the river home, which meant crossing from side to side to find the best place for walking when your two choices are wet rocks and dry rocks. Let me tell you something about rocks. Big rocks are okay to walk on; leapfrogging on them is actually fun and a fairly quick way to travel. Little gravelly rocks are fine too. But medium-size rocks are impossible, because they aren’t stable enough to really walk on, so you have to walk between them, and after a few hours your feet are threatening mutiny. I was really thankful that my hiking boots came up so high, or I’m sure I would have twisted an ankle. I said a lot of bad words to those rocks. We sometimes came upon grass, and I was more thankful to see grass than I ever have been in my life. We walked for a while on mossy, rocky ground that looked just like the landscape in that scene in The Two Towers where Sam is cooking rabbits and then he and Frodo get captured by Faramir. (I am such a Lord of the Rings dork, I admit it.) In fact, you’re probably thinking, at least we got to see some beautiful scenery, right? False. The only scenery I saw was the rocks I was walking on. I scrutinized the heck out of those rocks, lest I fall again and do some more damage to my knees. No, actually, it was beautiful out there. Although the rocks put me in mind of Mordor more than anything else, we were tramping around the Southern Alps, where Peter Jackson filmed a fair amount of movies scenes, including the ones in Edoras and Pelennor Fields. They filmed most of the movies on the North Island, actually. And I promise I don’t just know this stuff off the top of my head. I’m not Leslie Venable : ) I just found a sweet website with a map of NZ and you can click on locations and it tells you which LOTR scenes were filmed there: http://www.filmnz.com/middleearth/locations/index.html. You know you want to check it out.
The Sunday hike was a little scary because we were walking on a rocky road for hours, and we weren’t sure that we were going the right way. Every so often, we’d hear a rustle and Brian would lope out of the woods, as if he’d just Apparated from a Red Bull factory, and say, “How’s it going?” Then he would disappear again. There was another experienced tramper named Sam bringing up the rear, but we were mostly just betting on the fact that the road would bring us back home. When we started seeing cow patties, we got excited, because cows = farms = people = civilization. And sure enough, we caught up to the rest of the group, and from there it was a quick walk back to the vans. Of course, there was a deep river crossing first, and I’m pretty sure that’s where I lost Mom’s gloves. Oops. (I’ll buy you some nice Merino ones for Christmas!) But then we drove to a café at Arthur’s Pass a little ways down the road and to warm up and reconvene, and two hours later we were home. The ride home was fun because a) I was sitting down and b) Sam put on a station that played American classic rock, and he and I had a discussion about how women should not be involved in rock music, ever, when “Barracuda” came on. Sorry, Mom. Also, I dozed off at one point and woke up to the Bohemian Rhapsody—not so much Freddie Mercury as the entire van going, “MOMMAAAA! OOOOOOOH!” in about three different keys. When we got back, we had showers and then Nora made the five of us dinner. I love Nora. She is wonderful.
So, to sum up, a few hours into Sunday’s tramp, Jas and I had the following exchange:
Me: “How do you like tramping?”
Jas: “It’s awesome. It’s the greatest experience of my life. So fantastic, in fact, that I will probably never do it again.”
I was feeling really crummy after the hike, like I’m the worst tramper in NZ (probably true), but Dale said it was more intense than even he was expecting, so I felt better. I’m alive, after all, and now that I can feel all my extremities again, I’m starting to forget how horrible it was. Rachel did a lot better than I did, because she’s the Little Engine That Could, whereas I was always last and I’m thinking of officially changing my name to The Caboose. I mean, I like nature as much as the next guy—unless the next guy is Bear Grylls—but I think day tramps may be the best way for me to go. I’m quite attached to civilization. Except tramping means I might get to use my head lamp, which makes it pretty darned worth it.
lots of love-
also write us letters-
Carie and Rachel
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Kia Ora!
Hey everyone! It took us almost a month to get the blog started (oops), but here it is at last.
We moved into our on-campus apartments a few weekends ago, after spending our first weekend in Christchurch (herein referred to as CHCH) at a nice hostel in the city center. Rach and I are in adjacent buildings, but—trust her to luck out like this—hers is the building with the laundry room. She actually lives right across from it, on the first floor, whereas I live on the third level again. But on the bright side, my flatmates are awesome. Their names are Moana and Sina and they’re both from Samoa. They’re great to live with—clean, considerate, and hilarious. And given my past tumultuous history with roommates, I’m pretty thrilled to have a single. Rachel’s flatmates are Japanese and Malaysian. Their names are Misi, Wa-Wa, and Na-Na. (I am not making this up.) They’re great flatmates as well.
Our flats all have kitchens, but only the really big flats have ovens; the rest of us just have stoves. So if you have any great stove-top recipes, please send them along! There are 2 kids in our Butler group with ovens, so we go over to their flats to bake sometimes. We are less than ten minutes’ walk from the grocery store (where they sell giant Toblerone bars for a dollar) and less than half an hour from the mall, which is really nice. There are also buses running all the time and everywhere. Rachel, Briana and I discovered that the other weekend, accidentally getting on the wrong bus and ending up out in the woop-woops (i.e., the boonies), where the bus proceeded to break down. It was an adventure.
We’ve been in class for a week now. Canterbury’s campus is much smaller than we expected, which is great since both of us are used to being on a campus the size of a teacup. Rach and I have two classes together, Russian history and Roman myth. Rachel is also in American lit and Kiwi history since 1940, and I’m taking Troy in ancient epic and the history of Nazi Germany. Our Roman myth professor is American. She has a Northern accent that makes us cringe, she told us she puts God on the same level as the Tooth Fairy, and she also announced that she doesn’t live in the States because she wants her taxes used for “health care and parks,” not an “imperialist war machine.” Charming. Rachel and I both feel that if we had wanted to listen to Americans complain about the US government, we would have just stayed in the States, but oh well. Surprise, though—not all Kiwis hate America, but there is still a prevailing attitude of pacifism in New Zealand. Our student advisor Kate read one of the guys in our group the riot act because he plans to join the Marines next summer. That really surprised me because in America, we tend to respect members of the armed forces, regardless of our own opinions about the current war. NZ may have a British heritage, just as America does, but we are definitely two distinct groups.
Rachel and I are trying to milk our break from Work Forest for all it’s worth. Last weekend almost everyone in our group went to see Harry Potter 6 together, and there were a couple of people at the cinema who looked exactly like the Weasleys. I mean exactly. It was awesome. And two nights ago we all went to play laser tag (or laser strike, as the Kiwis call it), and eat Japanese food, courtesy of our IFSA-Butler fees. There are more Butler events planned for the semester, including river rafting and an adventure weekend of four-wheeling, hiking, and hot springs. Rach and I both joined the Tramping Club, and we’re hiking to Hanmer Springs this weekend. We’ll take lots of pictures. The pictures up on Rachel’s Facebook are from an afternoon trip two weekends ago to a little town nearby called New Brighton. It has a library right on the beach, which is sweet as. One of the great things about this country is that you can hop on a bus and go right to the beach, or you can rent a car and drive a few hours to go skiing for the day. There are a ton of options.
Time for fun facts about Kiwis. Their accents are sweet as—“text” is pronounced “tixt,” “knackered” sounds like “naked,” and “netball” is a dead ringer for “nipple.” This is the type of fun you can have talking to Kiwis. In terms of friendliness, there really isn’t a fair generalization—some are polite and others are cold. I’ve met several really friendly Kiwis in my Nazi history class. One thing I can say about them as a group, though, is that they are terrible at sharing public spaces, whether they are walking on a sidewalk, driving in a parking lot, or wandering the grocery store aisles with a shopping trolley. Know how people in the States instinctively stay to the right when walking in public? Kiwis apparently think that keeping to one side is only for driving. It’s ridiculous. Also, the guys here wear really tight pants, so tight that we have to wonder how they get their feet in to begin with. And no self-respecting Kiwi wears sneakers with jeans, or sneans, as Kate calls them. Americans always give ourselves away by rocking the sneans. Another everyday difference between NZ and the States is the coffee. It’s like art to these people. I’ve dearly missed plastic to-go cups with plain old straightforward American coffee (that’s the first thing I’m buying at LAX when I fly home). People sit down and relax while they drink NZ coffee. It comes in a legit mug or even a tall glass, with foam in the shape of, I don’t know, a unicorn. No, seriously though, it’s usually in the shape of a leaf, and very pretty, but still. Our favorite coffee shop downtown sells a raspberry coffee called—really—a Ziggy Stardust. I like David Bowie as much as the next guy, but I think that in itself illustrates how seriously Kiwis take coffee. Starbucks, pretentious as it is, has nothing on New Zealand coffee.
Oh yeah, I though I’d mention who’s in our Butler group. There are ten guys: Pete from Wake, Kevin, Trevor, Nadav, Matt, Matt, Alex, Dale, Nick, and Andrew, and eight girls, Jasmine, Nora, Ashley, Briana, Katie, PT, Rach, and me. We’ve also picked up a few American kids who came here solo, Chris and Laura. They are all a lot of fun.
Rachel is the one with the sweet Nikon, so she’s in charge of pictures for the blog. Bug her if you think she’s slacking off. I, on the other hand, seldom remember that I even have a camera. (kidding, Mom, thanks for the camera)
We miss everyone back home tons. You should send us letters! Also Skype us! We’re 16 hours ahead of the East Coast and 19 ahead of the West.
love-
Carie and Rachel
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