Adult Under Construction: July 2013

Since this post, I have been letting the subject of my plans for September fall by the wayside. Now that the North Island, the South Island, and Saipan are behind me, it's time to explain my next adventure.

In the three years since I finished my undergraduate degree, I have intentionally worked a variety of different jobs to broaden my experience. Potential career paths have been spinning through the back of my mind, each with roughly the same level of appeal. After three years spent investigating, the biggest conclusion I have made is that it would take several lifetimes to explore the possibilities offered by every one of my interests. However, I also realized that I did not want to spend the rest of my days making coffee and sandwiches for just above minimum wage. I wanted to be doing something that made positive change, so at least I could finish each day comfortable in the knowledge that I was doing what I could to improve the world. Being a barista did not do that for me.

It became clear that graduate school was in the cards, and I used my extended stay in New Zealand to explore various options online. The study of planning (you may have heard it called urban planning) has attracted me for several years now. I have long been convinced that humanity's relationship with the planet is out of sync, and the planning of towns and cities seems like an excellent way to manage that relationship. Planning also combines several of my other interests, allowing me to get a sense of what the aforementioned "several lifetimes" might have been like.

After coordinating references, transcripts, and personal statements through the wonder of the internet, I was enthusiastically accepted at Dalhousie University, in Halifax, Nova Scotia. Their MPlan is a two-year degree with a mandatory work term. My only hesitation about it was the two-year commitment (European degrees are one year), but the more I hear about it, the more I'm glad I accepted their offer. I recently made a visit to Halifax to arrange housing and get acquainted with the city. A number of friends from my undergraduate years happen to be living in the area as well, and one is even in the same program.

I will do my best to update the blog while at Dalhousie, although much of the material might be filed under "planning nerd." Time will tell.

Meanwhile, here's an assortment of photos from the past three years.

Logroño's bridge over the Rio Ebro.

Bambi, the deer that the staff took care of at Pueblo Ingles.

Eating clam chowder from a bread bowl in San Francisco - it was better than my facial expression indicates.

Stormtroopers guarding the Willis St mall in Wellington.

The crayfish tail I cooked in Arthur's Pass.

A ringtail possum in the tree outside Chris' house in Brisbane.

Bird Island near Saipan.

Those of you who have read this post will recall that I was not headed directly home when I left Auckland on June 1st. After my parents and I traveled around the South Island, over the Cook Strait, and up the guts of the North Island, our journeys diverged. Mom, having spent the previous month on two long-distance trips, headed home. Dad and I were on our way to Saipan, which is so small this spell check doesn't even recognize it as a word.

In an age when David Beckham can commit to play simultaneously for the LA Galaxy and the English national team, and Ryan Nelsen can play two games in London and one in Auckland in a week, it might seem like almost anywhere is easily accessible by plane. I assure you, that is false - although our journey did begin in New Zealand, a long haul from almost anywhere. When Dad and I left Auckland, we were on our way to Tokyo, a mere 10-hour flight. After some sushi and a few giggles at Japanese toilets, we hopped a three-hour flight to Seoul. We spent the night in Seoul airport's "Rest and Relax" area, a free place to sleep, use the internet, and even have a shower in the morning. We had to work out some confusion over whether we were arriving or connecting, but once it was all cleared up, it proved to be the nicest airport I've ever slept in (and I've slept in a few). Once we'd showered, we boarded yet another flight, this one a four-hour ride over the Pacific to Saipan. For some reason, we were bumped up to first class on our last flight. It was so comfortable we almost didn't want to arrive.

But arrive we did, and I spent a week with Dad getting a sense of life on Saipan. Saipan is in the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands (CNMI), which is related to the USA in much the same way as Puerto Rico. When Dad was working here in the late 1960s, all of Micronesia was a Trust Territory of the UN, administered by the USA. In the intervening years, that Trust Territory has split into CNMI and the independent nations of Palau, the Marshall Islands, and the Federated States of Micronesia. CNMI's unique relationship with the US has odd results, such as products being labelled as "Made in the USA for export only," while the immigration officials at the airport are American.

Aside from the political changes since Dad was last in Saipan, far more tangible economic changes have altered the look of the island. A possession of Japan before World War II (and the site of a major battle during it), the Japanese have returned in droves as tourists. Just as Americans vacation in the Caribbean and Kiwis in Polynesia, the Japanese vacation in Saipan. There are also hefty quantities of tourists from South Korea, Russia, and China. Tourism has led to resort hotels by the dozen and duty-free shopping downtown - there's a Louis Vuitton on Saipan.

However, Dad's experience connected him with the native Chamorro and Carolinian people of Saipan, and we spent most of our time with them. People welcomed Dad like a long-lost family member - literally. I've been enthusiastically informed that I am family now too and welcome to return whenever I like. We spent much of our time catching up with Dad's old friends and visiting sites that he remembered. There was always plenty of food, drinks, and music, which made for a consistently pleasant atmosphere (it also helped explain why obesity and diabetes are such serious problems there). I consumed more coconut products than I had in my entire life up to that point, strummed a ukulele in front of a crowd, and saw avocados the size of eggplants. I also learned about betelnut, a mild stimulant that the Carolinians chew religiously. The instantly noticeable red stain on a person's teeth is a dead giveaway.

Life on Saipan is heavily influenced by the weather. Many household activities take place outdoors, as the humidity is even more stifling indoors. I've learned that Carolinians tend to relax on their floors, rather than on chairs or couches, and now I know why - it's cooler down there! Dad frequently marveled at the fact that he had lasted for two years in such oppressive conditions, and I could barely last two hours without relief. Furthermore, Saipan has one of the most uniform climates on Earth, meaning it's a sauna all year round. The only exception we found was higher, exposed areas which get regular breezes off the ocean, and they were like oases in the desert. When I visited Brisbane I was lucky enough to miss the worst of the heat and humidity; on Saipan I had to confront it 24 hours a day.

Words can only explain so much about the week we spent in Saipan. It was one of the most unique and unusual weeks of my life. But all good things come to an end, and we had another flight odyssey ahead of us. An early-morning flight to Guam connected us to an eight-hour flight to Honolulu, where we spent a day to adjust to the time change (and for me to set foot in Hawaii). From there we took a seven-hour red-eye flight to Denver and a three-hour flight to Toronto. I learned two things on that last journey: United is an airline to be avoided, and the Pacific Ocean is HUGE. The magnitude of the distance set in on the drive home; luckily, Mom was driving.