Black and New

In my experience, the first few days in a new place always feel very long. As there is no established routine and even basic things are new and different, it is that much more interesting and challenging to navigate through a full day. So, naturally, I have spent my first few days doing the things that will allow me to establish a routine and become familiar with my new surroundings.

After arriving in Auckland early on Thursday morning, I spent the day riding the bus from Auckland airport to Wellington. Although I was worn out, I was excited to take the opportunity to see the North Island from the ground. The ride passed by plenty of green hillsides, the absolute beauty of Lake Taupo, and sheep. Lots of sheep. I passed the time by reading, enjoying the bus driver's accent, and talking to the Samoan-Maori woman sitting next to me about all things New Zealand.

Friday was my first full day in this country, and I quickly set about making myself at home in Wellington, where I plan to spend the next few months. After successfully setting up a cell phone (say that with a lisp), I started a bank account with ANZ bank. The good news is the staff were as friendly as Kiwis are famous for being and I now have a bank account here; the bad news is that my money order is not going to be accessible for a month while my check clears. That obviously puts severe constraints on my activity, and the teller was considerate enough to ask me if I'd be able to last that long without it. I was being completely serious when I told her yes. I was already planning to look for a job here; now it's just a little more urgent.

One major difficulty was spending a weekend here so soon after arriving, as job hunting is better done during the business week. But thanks to the free internet connection at McDonald's – the only place that has one here – I was able to do plenty of research on housing and jobs in Wellington. I've since moved into a hostel that rents by the week to avoid the extra costs of deposit and bills that would come with renting a room in an apartment, and sent in numerous job applications via the internet. Monday was my first day of job hunting in earnest, and it was certainly more encouraging than similar hunts I've done in North America.

But I didn't just come to New Zealand for its friendly job market. The challenges of being in a new place are what make it interesting, and although I've been kept busy making myself at home here, I have been able to notice the things that make this place different from Canada and the United States. One unavoidable topic of interest here is the Rugby World Cup, which begins on September 9^th. Rugby in general is always in the news, as I expected. Here's a brief anecdote to help explain just how rugby-mad this country is:

Prior to the World Cup, New Zealand's rugby team is competing in the Tri-Nations, an annual competition between the three major rugby nations of the southern hemisphere (South Africa, Australia, and New Zealand). They played their first match of that tournament here in Wellington on Saturday night, but that wasn't the only first on Saturday. As stores all over town had been advertising, the team revealed their highly-anticipated World Cup jersey in that match. The new design was the subject of a major ad campaign and much speculation. That amount of fanfare for a jersey is common in sports, but the nickname of the New Zealand rugby team is the All Blacks. I wondered to myself how much one could modify a jersey that fit the specifications “all” and “black”. The major topic of discussion in Sunday's newspapers? The white collar on the new jersey.

Landfall

I have arrived in Wellington, New Zealand after a long journey involving a thirteen-hour flight and a 12-hour bus ride. Every time I leave for a new place, I have last-minute doubts and wonder why I'm leaving behind everything I know. This time, any such worries were quickly dispelled when I watched the Air New Zealand safety video. I was nearly laughing out loud in my seat, and only realized afterwards that I had just enjoyed an airline safety video.

I was further bolstered by the flight attendant who asked me to "give 'er a nudge" when the woman next to me was too preoccupied with her meal to give him a drink order.

There will be more detail to come, but for now, I'm just happy to have arrived somewhere I can put down my bags and sleep in a bed.

That Wasn't So Bad (Getting to New Zealand, parts 1 and 2)

As I sit at my gate in San Francisco International Airport, looking at a 747 that will soon take me to Auckland, I feel a bit rushed to review the past 9 days of travel before I get caught up in a new city, country, and hemisphere. But let's see how I do.


My previous post may have given you some idea about the train ride that my Dad and I took from Chicago to Richmond, CA. It was unlike any train ride I had ever taken. Although I had been on sleepers before, this was more like making the train my home for almost three days. Dad and I knew we were in for the long haul, so we settled in pretty quickly, beginning a best-of-3 series of rummy 500, making significant advances in our respective books, and learning the ropes of life on the train.


There were numerous delays in the schedule throughout the ride. This being Amtrak, we had expected the ones that affected our arrival time. What we had not expected were the struggles with mealtimes. Our meals were included in the ticket price, and the food was pretty high-quality for the circumstance. But it did get a bit frustrating to wait until 9.30 PM for your 8 PM dinner reservation to start. Fortunately, the food was worth waiting for and mealtime delays merely made the ride go by quicker by giving us something else to think about.


Not that we needed much else to think about once we reached the Rockies. Crossing the Midwest took a little less than 24 hours, and it was exactly as I expected - more corn and soybeans than you can imagine. We reached Denver just before noon on the second day, and from there, I entered a part of the United States that I had previously only seen in movies (Westerns, primarily). The Rockies were incredible, particularly the Colorado River. It seemed to be unable to decide what type of waterway it would be - a wide floodplain or a violent whitewater. About every 20 minutes, the train would enter a new gorge and the river would go the color of paper as it narrowed and the rocky bottom resisted its advance. At times, the waves appeared to move backwards. Soon, though, we would enter a wider valley in which the river became more like a lake with a current. Apparently the river is high this year, which made this whole process even more fun to watch. To top it all off, the train was mooned twice along this part of the route - once by a man balancing on a whitewater raft. A nice addition to the scenery, particularly during dinner time.


Utah passed mostly in the dark, but Nevada's desert was another sight unlike anything I've seen before. Although our route was flat, the scenery was far from boring. The mountains in the distance seemed to randomly change color and shape, and the scrub and sagebrush slowly degraded into salt flats, a phenomenon I would not have identified on my own (thanks, Dad). It was on this part of the ride that I saw a wild rabbit, the only wild mammal I would see in three days (mooners excluded).

Our final climb happened as we entered California near Lake Tahoe, and then we descended on a miniature version of our entire trip - scrubby desert, then farmland, and finally the industrial surroundings of San Francisco. 

Our time in the Bay area was fairly scattered - between the Napa Valley, San Jose, San Francisco, and Oakland, I feel like I've gotten a pretty good feel for the entire region. As scenic as it all is, I was overwhelmed by the amount of traffic, in which I was fortunately only a passenger. The sprawl also soured my introduction to California. For those of you already saying "Don't go to LA," don't worry, I'm not planning to. I did enjoy San Francisco, although I hadn't given it too much thought before my arrival. The hills were a bit trying at times, but the public transit is not only good, the operators are entertaining. I heard bus riders asked to "be like Moses and part so these people can get on," and operators yelling, "this is Ghirardelli square - if you want chocolate and ice cream, get off here." It's not worthy of live stand-up, but it was nice to have a little personality behind the wheel. San Francisco also includes historic trolley cars as part of their transit network, which is cool in so many ways. They've even been brought in from other cities that no longer use them, so you could ride a trolley car from Washington, St. Louis, Chicago, or Milan. Yes, that Milan, in Italy.


As usual, I made a point of trying the local culinary specialties. I particularly enjoyed the clam chowder in a bread bowl, which was as good as it is on the East coast. Our tour of Chinatown took us to a market with live seafood on sale (including frogs), but neither of us was brave enough to try any. It was entertaining enough to watch the delivery guy use a net to unload fish into the store's tanks. But the food could not top one of my favorite parts of San Francisco: the pier 39 sea lions.

San Francisco has been fun, but New Zealand has been at the back of my mind the entire time. As much as it's a great monkey to have on my back, I'll be happy when I finally arrive in Auckland.

Woke up at 3 AM to get a photo of the 4th of 6th new states that I visited.

The Pier 39 sea lions.

How do you know you're in the gay district? A Grease sing-along, that's how.

The plane I'll be boarding soon.

That Wasn't So Bad! (Getting to New Zealand, parts 1 and 2, introduction)

The first two parts of my journey to New Zealand are now complete. My Dad and I departed North Bay, ON on Sunday and spent the night in Goderich, ON, with my aunt and uncle. Monday was a long day of driving, all the way from Goderich to Chicago, with a quick stop in Valparaiso, IN for a visit with two other relatives who I was meeting for the first time as an adult. We spent that night in Chicago with my aunt. After a day of sightseeing in Chicago, we left the Windy City at 2 PM on Wednesday afternoon and began a 54.5-hour train journey to the Bay Area, which we completed only 3 hours ago. You can imagine how tiring this whole thing has been, so please forgive me if I save the verbal description for later. Here are some photos to whet your appetites.

The Mt. Pleasant, IA train station. Pretty much as I expected it would be.

The Colorado River, probably my favorite part of the ride.

The sight I woke up to on the last day of the ride. Somewhere in Nevada.

Leaving, Arriving, and Leaving Again

My last week in Logroño passed in an odd haze of goodbyes. It was my first week in Logroño without a schedule, which allowed me to focus my energies on saying the multitude of goodbyes that needed to be said. I think somebody said once that "parting is such sweet sorrow" or something like that...which is absolutely true. On the one hand, saying goodbye forces you to appreciate what you've had with the people you're leaving; on the other, it reminds you of what you're leaving behind. I've discovered that the best way to prevent this draining sensation is to have something exciting planned for the future, such as my upcoming trip to New Zealand.

Regular readers of this blog will remember this post about my plan for reaching New Zealand without flying and spending a year on a working holiday there. Because of difficulties with scheduling and obvious better alternatives, I will not be completing my journey to New Zealand by ship. The plan remains relatively similar to the one I posted previously, however: my dad and I are leaving for Chicago this Sunday, with a one-night stopover in Goderich, ON, before catching the train to San Francisco. After a weekend in the Bay area, I will fly from San Francisco to Auckland, where my year-long visa will begin ticking away. Dad and I will be making a variety of family visits on the way, as well as visiting Nebraska, the only of the fifty American states he has yet to see.

I'm planning to spend the first few months of my time in New Zealand in Wellington (the capital). My preliminary research indicates that Wellington has a pretty lively job and rental market, and I will be arriving in the middle of winter, which is when agricultural jobs are least available. Furthermore, being in Wellington will allow me to soak up the energy of the Rugby World Cup more than being in a smaller town would. After the tournament finishes, I only have ideas, but I know I want to spend a fair amount of time on the South Island, particularly in Otago and Southland.

But what have I been doing since I got back from Logroño? I've been at my parents' house in North Bay, ON. I don't have the best relationship with this place, but this has been a particularly nice visit. With the excitement of preparing for New Zealand, I have been particularly able to appreciate the good things North Bay has to offer. As usual, I have raided the public library's massive collection of music and movies, and fully enjoyed the proximity of Lake Nipissing - at one point I had showered only twice in seven days, bathing in the lake instead. I was also here for shad fly season, one of North Bay's most unique occurrences. It's also pretty gross. I didn't take any pictures, but this guy did a couple years ago.

My preparations are nearly finished, with a new Netbook on my lap right now, a new backpack waiting to be filled up, and a new iPod on its way. I've also been contacting potential flatmates in Wellington and doing some long-distance job-hunting, while reading any historical text I can find about New Zealand, one area in which the public library is sadly deficient. I'll find out how well-prepared I actually am in less than a week, when my eleven-day trip begins.

Keeping Things Interesting

My week in Jaén with Pueblo Inglés came to an end yesterday when I returned to Logroño after 12 hours of traveling. Taken as a whole, the past week was easily the best seven days I've spent since I arrived in Spain in October. The people were interesting and friendly; the daily schedule was full but not overwhelming; the physical surroundings were beautiful; and, on a more practical note, the food was great. I can hardly think of a single moment that I did not enjoy. I've been telling people the program is a bit like a summer camp for adults, and people often make reference to the fact that children don't want summer camp to end - that was never true for me as a child, but it was this time. It would obviously be impossible to communicate exactly why that is, but here's a few highlights.

The program took place at a hotel near the town of Cazorla, a bit like a hunting lodge located in the Sierras de Cazorla national park. Our bus ride took us through acres of olive trees, which could only be expected, as 60% of Spain's olive oil is produced in the province of Jaén. The area around the hotel, however, was only mountains and forest. During one of our afternoon breaks, some other participants and myself took a hike to a nearby waterfall, where I indulged my love of wild swimming for the first time since last summer. I don't think I knew how much I had missed it until I dunked my head under a massive cascade of frigid water.

The majority of the week was built around speaking English in one-on-one sessions. Obviously this is intimidating for the students, but the English speakers also have to concern themselves with being able to maintain a conversation for almost an hour. For me, however, it was a relief to finally be working with adults. After 8 months of practically pulling teeth to make Spanish children speak English, speaking to Spanish adults was hardly more difficult than talking to a native English speaker for the same amount of time. My one-on-ones would often run over the allotted amount of time because of sheer interest. I don't think I've ever had so many interesting conversations or met so many interesting people in such a short space of time.

One of our mornings was also dedicated to an excursion into Cazorla, a city of about 8000 people. Some of the streets reminded me of Granada and took me back to my first visit to Andalucía two summers ago (also the reason I applied for this position). Although we didn't have long to explore, I was intrigued by the city's mountainous geography, waterways, and stray cats. Apparently my wandering ways caused me to miss an impromptu bullfighting demonstration by two of the group's members...can't win 'em all, I guess.

The idea of creating an English village means everything becomes part of the program, including the meals and free time. Naturally, that means the food has to be pretty good, and it was. Lunch and dinner were three-course meals, with the first and second dishes chosen from a menu the day before. The selections may have presented the greatest challenge for the English speakers, as many of them were quite unique to Spain and Jaén. One of the firsts was local wild game, a combination of boar and deer that left very little room for my second course. My experience with Spanish people this year led me to believe that the food would be a great conversation starter, and I was correct. With so many Spaniards from so many places, there were always opinions flying around the table (but not food, fortunately).

But the best part of this week was also the most intangible - the people. As I mentioned above, I have rarely met so many interesting people in such a short span of time, and it was absolutely fantastic to be around them. It would be impossible to fully explain why that was, so let's just leave it at this: put me in a group that includes a retired air force pilot, a circus performer, and an engineer/blogger/poet, and it sounds like the beginning of a joke. But it also allowed my curiosity to run wild and me to thoroughly enjoy myself.

Also, the hotel had a baby deer that was looked after by the staff and kept as a pet. As if the place wasn't awesome enough already.

The hotel and its surroundings.

Near the river I went swimming in - this waterfall was too far away, unfortunately.

Stray cats on a roof in Cazorla.

Bambi, the temporary pet of the hotel.

The End, Extended

I finished work this past Tuesday. It was an odd finish, as I had been sick all weekend with pneumonia and had to miss school on Monday to avoid a relapse. My last day at Albelda was much more low-key than at Alberite, as one of the teachers had just returned from a two-week honeymoon in China, which distracted from the fact that it was my last day. I didn't mind - having just begun to feel better, I wasn't sure I could have handled being the center of attention.

Wednesday saw my last tutoring class, and early Thursday morning, I took the bus to Madrid to meet the people with whom I will be living this week. To give a little background, I had signed up for a program called Pueblo Inglés (English village), which brings together native English speakers and Spanish students of English. For the English speakers, it's a volunteer position - for the Spanish people, it's a week of practicing English (often for professional reasons). After meeting in Madrid, we were carted off on a six-hour bus journey through Castilla La Mancha and Andalucía to a hotel in the mountains near Cazorla, in the province of Jaén. It's an absolutely beautiful location, but more importantly, it's isolated - which allows for the creation of an "English village." It's an interesting approach to education that I am keen to try after a year of educating in a more conventional manner.

On a side note, Pueblo Inglés is a great way to get a cheap holiday in Spain - your accommodation is paid for as well as your food and transportation from Madrid, and the location and accommodation are both fantastic. The people here are a unique mix - I believe I'm the youngest person, but the age range seems to cover everything from 23 to 80 (or thereabouts). I've already met a former Air Force fighter pilot, an academic journal salesperson (oh yes, they exist), and two people who operate businesses that they began themselves.

Oh, and this is the view from my bedroom window.