Astonishment

Yeah, yeah… I know. It’s been a long time since I’ve updated. Considering that I’m still way waaay behind, it’s even worse. No worries, though, bro. I’ll eventually finish this up.

The last time I posted, we had just left Christchurch.

Sad thing too because Sumner’s Beach was one of the BEST times that I’ve had in New Zealand. Great company, great scenery, and great times. When you rate that on a scale with everything else that I did, that means a lot.

Anyway, here we go:

Spring Break, Part 3: Steep Streets and Beer.

We arrived in Dunedin right before noon and immediately caught a shuttle to our hostel. It was one of those big chain hostels (ABC Hostel or something? Can’t remember anymore), so the deals were great and the services were reliable.

Since a room typically held four to six people, we were lucky in that there were four of us. That meant we got a room all to ourselves.

Once we were all settled in, we grabbed instructions for a walking tour of Dunedin and showed ourselves around. Our goals were simple enough: Eat, meet one of Brad’s (the guy with the crazy hair) friend at the local college, and climb the steepest street on the planet.

Unfortunately, Tolkien decided to send some ogres our way. More on that later….

So we decided to follow the directions (our Treasure Map) to see the major sites of Dunedin. Unfortunately, it didn’t exactly take us along the scenic route. From our hostel to some random lonely roads, we passed by what once must have been a magnificent courthouse. Now, though, it had been remodeled into a strip club. The lack of stores and tourist-y areas along these roads at least provided us with a random Chinese fastfood takeout place.

We were starving (our last meal was at 7ish am - a granola bar for me, back at Christchurch). We swallowed entire rabbits whole, then continued with our tour. Unfortunately, we didn’t take too many pictures of this walk. It wasn’t a very pretty city. If I had to compare it with any other city I know, I’d call it Philadelphia.

The nice parts, I admit, were very nice though. Here are pictures from our walking tour:

See? Philly.

The first monument-type thing we saw:

More…

A prison. And yeah, there are still inmates there. Though, honestly, I can’t imagine what kind of crimes are prominent in New Zealand. Maybe it’s illegal for hobbits to shave? (*coughs… apologizes to any Kiwi readers.*)

The Dunedin Railway Station - easily one of the best sites in Dunedin. Here are some pictures of it, but no worries. We’ll be back here again when we hop on the train to Queenstown.

And here we go… Imagine Willy Wonka. Imagine his chocolate factory. And now, take a good look at the Cadbury Chocolate Factory. You see that big purple tower? You know what’s inside? It’s a real chocolate waterfall! (We’ll enter the factory tomorrow… but, unfortunately, they wouldn’t let us take pictures. Something about people trying to steal Mr Wonka’s secrets.)

Here’s an old fire station and an antique firetruck.

Then here’s the University of Otago, with its library, dining area, the quaint campus feel (quads, buildings, and students playing rugby… instead of frisbee), and student housing. Very much like Amherst except for, you know, those MOUNTAINS IN THE BACKGROUND! Oh, and for these students, student housing actually means student housing. I mean - seriously, look. They have houses.

Anyway, we were there for two reasons. One: Kate really wanted to see the college. And two: Brad met up with a friend and they briefly chatted… then he looked at me, grinned, and pressed the “Do Magic” button that’s supposedly a part of me. It was all in good fun, though.

After that, we were finally on our way to the World’s Steepest Street.

And this is when Tolkien throws some obstacles our way. My stomach is in PAIN all of a sudden. My sister’s nose is constantly running (she’s had a cold for most of this trip), and we were in the middle of a residential area with no chemists (aka Kiwi word for pharmacists) around. We managed to find a dairy (think Seven Eleven). It has drugs, but it doesn’t have any cold medicine, and it doesn’t have any pain killers.

But oh no. We’ve come all this way. There’s no way we’re missing the World’s Steepest Street, even if it means keeling over and throwing up once I reach the top.

First off - the impossibly long walk.

On our way, we ran across some interesting signs. Oh yes. The Church of St Martins apparently transformed into the Church of Satin.

And.. here we go. The world’s steepest street!

Oh wait. No. Believe it or not… that was NOT the World’s Steepest Street. There were a dozen of those - false imitations - before we actually found the real World’s Steepest Street. It’s called Baldwin St, and there’s a ferocious feline guarding it. See?

Time for the climb to the top. You can see me, curled over in pain, as I force myself to make the dangerous upwards hike.

The view from the top:

(Pained expression as I walk back down…)

Here’s a random bit of info. Every year, there’s a race up and down this street. It’s called the Baldwin St Gutbuster. More details about this insanely painful (and, I think, unnecessarily tiring) event are on that picture of a sign somewhere above.

We were done, and we would make it back just in time for our tour of Speight’s Beer Factory. On the way back, we finally found a supermarket. My sister and I stopped in for some meds (which helped a great deal). I got her some Strepsils… she didn’t really need them, but I’ve started eating them like lollies (aka candy) since my last cold. They’re delicious, by the way, and highly addictive cough drops.

After that adventure, we walked (WAAAY too much walking in this little island country) to Speight’s Brewery. The tour consisted of a history of beer, a history of Speight’s Brewery, the beer-making process, and….

*drum rolls*

As much free beer as you can drink for an hour. It was only a $15 NZD tour… and, for most people, it was well worth it. It was completely wasted on me… but hey - I tasted some of the supposedly special taps. If you like to drink and you’re ever in Dunedin, this is the place to go.

And here’s Mr Speight himself!

And oh! No… this isn’t a random beer spout sticking out of the factory. The beer factory is directly over this resevoir of amazingly fresh water. Its quality is supposed to be better than the town’s tap, so people come here throughout the day just to fill up jars upon jars of water.

–
Anyway, in summary: Day five of my mid-semester break was spent wandering the streets of Dunedin with a complicated treasure map, receiving advice from the scholars of Otago University, climbing great obstacles, and, finally, relaxing in the ancient secrets of beer.

No worries. No one got too drunk. My sober state of mind could have easily made me the designated walker, but my lack of directional sense (I still have no idea how Brad got us to the beer factory without a map) would have kept us in Dunedin for weeks. That meant other people had to watch themselves… and, fortunately, we made our way safely back to our hostel.

I don’t remember what dinner that night was, but we had a great snack - leftover chocolate cake from the dinner that we had made for our Christchurch hosts.

Overall, Dunedin was a decent bit of fun, loads of pain, and a midway point on our way to Queenstown. Stay tuned for our next chapter: Part 4 - Chocolate and Trains.

And, of course, a thank you to Brad, Kate, and Florence for their wonderful pictures.

Day four!

In Chinese, the word “four” is a homonym for the word “dead.” Hotels in the US don’t have a 13th floor (at least, not a floor labeled as the 13th floor) because the number 13 is supposedly bad luck. In China, you’ll find that there is no 4th floor, 14th floor, 24th floor, or 34th floor. I wonder, though, whether or not they just ignore the 40th to 49th floors. I’ve never been to a building in China that’s tall enough to include those….

But yes. Day four.

The Day of Death.

Which has absolutely nothing to do with by fourth day of spring break. We were still in Christchurch… I believe it was either a Friday or a Saturday. That meant the marketplace downtown was open, so our Christchurch hosts decided to bring us down for some shopping fun.

We had to walk through Cathedral Square again, which was filled up this time.

The marketplace had little cakes for sale, lots of souvenir-type-stuff, crepes, fudge, delicious Greek food, and seagulls. Yes. Even all the way across the Pacific Ocean, those birds still hunt people down for the food in their hands.

And oh! There was a street performer! He wasn’t a magician, but he did some magic-like stunts. This is him lying down on a bed of broken glass while a spectator jumped on him.

The stunts were ok, but the performance was really entertaining. He was energetic - exactly what a street crowd looks for in the middle of a marketplace.

Finally, for the Scots out there, a man in a kilt blowing a bagpipe:

Fun as.

After that, we took a bus to Sumner’s Beach. It’s not a wildly tourist-y location… and you may miss it if you’re taking a quick tour of New Zealand. It’s definitely not at the top of any lists, but it was one of my favorite places in New Zealand.

It’s a beautiful beach with soft, shell-less white sand (unlike the yucky stuff on the Jersey shore). At some points, it’s almost impossible to differentiate the sky from the water. What’s more - the beach has these giant rock structures that are absurdly fun to climb. There are random mussel shells on them. And this entire beach is the foreground to another beautiful view - there are mountains in the background, white with the winter snow. You will see pictures…

I just wanted to say, though, that I think I missed out on the climbing-everything-into-every-hole stage as a child. I have a Kiwi friend who pointed out the urge to jump into a hole that she saw (we were on a class field trip… this blog entry will come later). I would have loved to do more of that….

But here we go.

Sumner Beach:

My friends decided to take off their shoes so that they can go for a dip in the water. It’s winter… not as bad as it is here, but definitely not warm enough to go for a swim. So while they adventured forth on bare feet, my sister and I stole their shoes and ran to the top of the rock structure. I deposited their shoes there and waited for them to come.

Yes. That’s right. We stole their shoes.

Then we just climbed around the little rock thingies for a bit. People took lots of pictures… and they all ended up looking like band pictures or something. Strange…

And here’s this really tall part that had a path up it on the other side. Most people took that path. Since I was bitten by the climbing bug, I decided to take the risk and brave the climb upwards without any climbing gear. I was joined by another friend, and we had a nice climb up to the top. Didn’t climb down though… don’t think I could have managed that.

And here’s the path that most people took to get up. We used it to get down.

And don’t forget the caves.

Here you can see both the entrance to the caves and the main rock structure that we climbed up.

That night, we thanked our hosts by cooking dinner for them. The Auckland group (that’s me, my two friends, and my sister) went to the supermarket, bought taco-making things and pasta stuff, and cooked. It was fun and a good way to end our time in Christchurch.

The next morning, we hopped on a plane and headed for Dunedin - home of both the Speight’s beer factory and a Cadbury chocolate factory. More on that later… but, in the meantime, a thank you to Brad, Angelica, Shalom, Heather, and Florence for taking all these pictures.

So it’s finally spring (it’s September now). Most University of Auckland students spend these two free weeks studying and writing papers… I spent it traveling. No matter. Those two weeks were undoubtedly sweet as.

A side note: Yes. I know it’s not really September. And yes. I’m not actually in New Zealand anymore. The semester ended with the end of October, and final exams took place during the first two weeks of November. But oh well. DEAL WITH IT!

Eh… ahem. Spring break.

The original plan involved a couple days in Australia and a week and a half on the South Island of New Zealand. But, as usual, the whiny voice of my little sister decided to stalk me all the way across the Pacific Ocean… and, as the older sister, I was forced to stay behind in New Zealand and wait for her while two other friends went ahead to brave Australia’s great Outback.

Since my sister can read what I’m saying… eh… I should probably apologize and say, instead, that I was glad to have her along. Seriously though - yes. It was great to have her along. My parents were going to come and see me at the end of my semester, but she would have classes then. So she persuaded them to let her come earlier… and, though I missed Australia, we nevertheless had an amazing time.

So… Day One: Rangitoto.

You may not remember this… but Rangitoto is the volcano where a fellowship of American students in New Zealand destroyed the One Ring. I mean - eh, it was one of the first day trips that I took in Auckland. Since my sister was dead tired and completely jet-lagged - she had just gotten off the plane that morning - I decided to torture her by dragging her up a volcano.

You’ve already seen pictures of Rangitoto… but last time, we didn’t make it to the lava caves.

My cell phone doubled as a torch (aka flashlight). We were fortunate that we had it… because we managed to stumble into one particular lava cave/tunnel. We went in one end, braved the darkness, hit our heads and tripped on sharp rocks, before finding our way out the other end. No pictures because it was too dark to take them. And also because I didn’t bring my camera, and my sister neglected to take any pictures.

Then we climbed up to the summit again and sat down for some lunch. Here’s a view of the city from the top… and yes. That bird is posing for us. My sister dropped a bread crumb there as a bribe.

Christchurch

Day two was spent partially exploring Auckland… and partially riding in a plane to the South Island. We arrived in Christchurch, grabbed a taxi, and made our way to Canterbury University where we were picked up by other American friends in the IFSA-Butler program. They brought us out for some fish ‘n chips dinner and gave us a mattress to sleep on. My fellow travelers who had gone ahead to Australia arrived back in New Zealand that night.

Day three -
We spent this day exploring the city. It was beautiful… a lot more red-brick than Auckland, had a more British feel… and the place was a lot more like Amherst and Northampton.

We took a series of buses to the center of the city. It was a Saturday morning, so the place was bustling with activity. All the little stores were opened, a town crier dressed in a traditional red coat walked around yelling out random things, and street performers played flutes, juggled torches, and tried to sing.

So the town crier:

Here’s some of the random Christchurch ‘artwork’ that decorated the streets:

There was even a giant chess set in the middle of the square. Think Harry Potter… I wanted to play but two people were already battling out their conflicts on it.

The most prominent feature, though, was the giant cathedral at the edge of the square.

Let’s go inside…

Beautiful, eh? Believe it or not… this is the final resting place of Aragon. See?

Ok. Maybe not. But it’s cool.

After that, we each paid a dollar to take the winding stairs up to the top of the cathedral’s clock tower. There were 134 steps winding tightly around a central pillar. It’s designed to give the defender the advantage in a swordfight. All I experienced, though, was severe motion sickness when I went up.

Through the little window there, you can see all the bells.

And, finally, the view of the square from the top.

After the cathedral, we walked down the street pass the Dyslexic Center. The Dyslexic Center seemed to be some kind of center for… I don’t know… research on dyslexia or something? All I could get out of it was that it was pretty and weirdly decorated. I didn’t get what the figure on top meant, but we took pictures anyway.

Then onwards to the museum!

It was essentially the Christchurch Museum of everything…

After we ate the museum, we had lunch from the random food stands in Christchurch. I had a delicious kebab (think burrito with chicken and random stuff).

Then PENGUINS!!!

Yes. That’s right. Penguins. On the afternoon of Day Three, we went to the Antarctic Centre.

The place rescues wounded penguins from the south and cares for them at the Antarctic Centre. Any baby penguins that are born there, though, are returned to the wild. The Antarctic Centre in Christchurch is also the place where the rest of the world goes to prepare for trips to the Antarctic. There’s a US base (or something?) there where scientists and south pole people go. From there, they take a plan down to the bottom of the planet.

So we came.

We survived the antarctic weather. This was a room that became colder every twenty minutes or so. They would give us big red coats to wear… then we would go inside. There’s snow on the ground, an ice slide, an igloo, a tent, and a motorcycle-thingy for people to take pictures on. Every twenty minutes, it would get colder and darker… giant fans would turn on, and everyone inside would freeze to death.

Yes. You can see my sister and I smiling here. But then the lights slowly disappeared, the fans turned on, and we died.

And thus ends this blog.
Forever.

Oh. Heh. Maybe not. I lied.

>.>

<.<

Some of these penguins are so injured that they can’t swim properly. We watched them eat… one of the staff members fed them by throwing fish into the water. They dived and grabbed for the fish. One penguin could only swim clockwise….

We also learned that the penguins won’t eat fish without heads. The man who was feeding them ripped off the head of one of the fish and threw it in. The penguins grabbed for it, only to spit it out again.

So… here’s the feeding:

And this last one was hand-fed because he was too injured to jump out, swim, and fight for the food with all the other penguins.

After that, we rode on a Haglund. (Think giant tank-like vehicle that drives up and down snowy hills, over giant holes, and into lakes.)

That red one is a fake one… in the room with the freezing cold fans from earlier. Here’s a real one. We rode on it towards a muddy track. We went up and down hills, off cliffs, over holes, and into a lake. Yes, that’s right. INTO a lake.

Remember… INTO a lake. See the water?

And here’s my biggest accomplishment yet: I was in two places at once.

(My right foot is on water from the North Pole, while my left foot is on water from the South Pole).

Yeah… anyway. That’s the end of part one. There’s at least another day of Christchurch, though, before we go off to explore the rest of the South Island. Stay tuned for more.

In a time of ancient gods, warlords, and kings, a land in turmoil cried out for a hero. She was Xena, a mighty princess, forged in the heat of battle… Her courage will change the world.

And, indeed, her courage did change the world.

Let’s go back to the middle of winter: August.

IFSA-Butler (the program that I’m in) planned a daytrip for my group to the Waitakeres – in this place where the old gods once roamed, Xena and Hercules fought side by side in the New Zealand rainforests. The Waitakeres, a place transformed into Ancient Greece, was the shooting location of our favorite son of Zeus and, of course, our favorite Warrior Princess.

In this amazing rainforest, I hyperventilated, nearly froze to death, slipped and fell enough times to rival Commander Kimpulse in bruises. I also had one of the greatest experiences of my life… and the great thing? If you’re not afraid of hiking through a rainforest without a guide, you, too, can hike through ancient Greece without paying a penny.

Anyway, here we go-

Saturday morning, we hopped onto a bus with Mel (our Student Liaisons Officer aka our advisor aka our New Zealand mum) and two guides. After a long and windy bus trip through the curved roads of New Zealand (and another near-carsickness/throwing up incident), we arrived at the Waitakeres guest center for our first view of the rainforest. From the little museum-like area with its displays of the local wildlife (mainly birds and insects) and geological features, we could stand on a little balcony. Here’s the grand view:

Yep. Straight out of Xena.

We got our bagged lunches, headed back into the bus, took another winding drive up into the rainforest, and stopped right before my breakfast decided to come back up out of my stomach.

Checked our clothing (to make sure no one was wearing anything with cotton), stuck food and warm sweaters into dry bags, then started the hike.

To be honest, I wasn’t expecting very much. I expected a nice, easy hike – the name of the trip was simply “Wander in the Waitakeres.” If that trip was just a wander, I’d hate to think what a real tramp through the rainforest would be.

Anyway – hiking. Or tramping. We walked downhill… through some obviously man-made slippery wooden steps, hands bracing our bodies against everything that we could see. It had rained the day before… and things in the area were just naturally wet. I grabbed several ferns and tree trunks and branches to steady myself, though I probably released and sent several sharp splinters into the face of the person behind me.

Unfortunately, I didn’t actually kill anyone…

When we reached the bottom of the steps, our guide pointed out a little pond area. At this point, I realized that I had forgotten to bring a water bottle. Our guide (I don’t remember his name, so I’ll call him Elmer) said that there were parasites in the water that could cause diarrhea… but, otherwise, it was safe to drink.

So… eh… good thing I don’t get thirsty easily?

Some more hiking.

And then. Wait. What? We were going to hike in the water? But what about our clothes? And shoes? They’ll get wet!

Yes. They will get wet.
Yes. You will fall.
Yes. You will freeze to death.
Oh. Ok. That’s fine.

So into the water we went.

Looks great, eh? We spent most of the hike knee-deep in water, carefully navigating the smooth, slippery rocks at the bottom of the river. There were random bursts of fast water and random moments of peace. It was cold at first, but after a while, it didn’t matter anymore since I could no longer feel my legs anyway.

At first, we tried for the high ground, avoiding the river whenever possible. If there were rocks above water, we climbed them. Sometimes, the water was just so deep that we had to climb them… inching slowly sideways against the rocky side of a cliff. Of course, if we slipped, we would fall backwards into the cold water… and a hike in the river would become a swim in our clothes.

But hey – I wasn’t really that wet above my knees. It was all fine and dandy.

Pretty trees. Pretty rocks. Pretty bugs. Pretty sky. Pretty mountains.

Oooh. Pretty waterfall. I wonder how we’re going to get around that.

Wait. What? Say that again?

We will be… climbing.. down this waterfall… with a rope. Abseiling. Ok. Breathe. Sounds fun. Breathe. Sounds dry. Breathe. People are doing ok. Can’t be any different from the last part of rock climbing, right? I’ve done that before… (FOOT Rocking Trip, 2006!)

You go first.

Ok. Looking down. Not scary. Nope. Not at all.

Climbing. Or… opposite-of-climbing. Lowering.

Don’t let go. Hold tight. Rope burn won’t kill me. Falling will.

Ah! I’ve made it! I’m alive! Nervous laughter.

More hiking. More beautiful scenery. More reminders of scenes from Xena… and yes. I watched the entire series all at once during exams period freshman year. So… heh.

Oh. Hiking.

Ok. More walking in water.

And then… another waterfall! We’ve already done it once. We can do it again. Look! There’s Elmer the tour guide again. He’s probably setting up another rope. Wait… what’s this? He just threw his bag down. It’s floating at the bottom now. Wait.. what? NO! NOOOO!!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

He jumped!

Someone else just jumped. And then… and then…

Look at that waterfall.

Hehe.

No. That’s not it. That’s another one that we saw. We didn’t jump off of it. We probably would have died if we did. Here’s the one we jumped:

But yeah. Okay. Shouldn’t be too hard. Just jump far enough away from the rocks. Wouldn’t want to smash into them. That wouldn’t be pretty. Nope. Not at all. Okay. Don’t think about it. Climb slowly to the edge. Turn around. Wave goodbye to everyone else. Breathe. Don’t think.

Just do it.

JUMP!

Scream.

Get laughed at later for my scream – because, you know, hard to think that that kind of sound could have come out of me. Yeah… er…

Breathe. What’s this? Cold. Cold. Swim. Breathe faster. Heart racing. I think I’m hyperventilating. Paddle. Paddle paddle. I think I can see the shore but… it’s too far. Don’t think I can make it. Hyperventilating. Wait. I’m hyperventilating. That means I need to calm down… slow down my breathing. Why am I doing this? Why did I come here? It’s freezing cold… I… I…

A hand. Grab the hand. Grab. Get lifted up… climb up. Up onto the shore. Breathe. Shiver. Slow down… look around.

Whew.

I’ve made it! Wow. Don’t think I could do that again, but it was great! Amazing. Look! There’s that guy that I know with an orange jacket. He’s jumping too. He’s hyperventilating, I bet you. Haha! And… he’s swimming to the wrong spot. Over here now. He’s panicking. He’s climbing. He’s back on shore. I watch. I’m ok. Everything will be ok. I’m alive now. Nothing to worry about.

One by one, the remaining hikers jump off the waterfall. One by one, they panic in the cold. They swim. And they relax. Then comes more hiking. More walking through the river. And, almost immediately, we run into another waterfall.

And, almost immediately, we have to jump down a second (albeit shorter) waterfall. More hyperventilating. Not as bad as the first time, though, but I came out shivering. As a result… since that would be our last jump, the guides and Mel (aka our Student Liaisons Officer, if you don’t remember) gave me a nice big wooly sweater and a funny green beanie. Didn’t matter.

It was warm.

No more waterfall jumps, though. But yes. One more waterfall.

We carefully climbed down it.

Hiked more, still knee deep in water. Stopped, finally, at a little hut area for lunch. It rained for those fifteen minutes of food… but, as a Kiwi friend says, there tends to be four seasons in one day here on the North Island.

Beautiful views, of course:

More hiking. On ground now, though the ground was soft and muddy… our shoes, cleaned by the rushing water of the river, was suddenly brown and mucky again.

The mud, however, slowly transformed into a black magnetic sand as we approached the black sand dunes of the Waitakeres.

By the way – these sand dunes were actually filmed in Xena, though I don’t remember where they’re from. I’ll need to watch again and look for these places… but yeah: Black Sand Dunes.

We climbed up them… and our muddy shoes became encased in black sand. Because the sand was so soft, we ran and jumped off the edge of the dunes.

Fun. Ended up completely covered in this black magnetic sand.

Then hiked over to the beach. Beautiful views.

Relaxed. Hopped back onto the bus. Fell asleep.

And finally, home.

–

Definitely the most fun I’ve had in New Zealand. If I weren’t so worried about wandering through these rainforests without a guide, I’d bring everyone here. If I bring a friend with hiking experience, though, I think we’d manage. If you ever come to New Zealand and you have some hiking experience, this is the place to go.

Anyway, random note-

Kiwis tend to drop their r’s when they speak. Park, for example, would be pronounced pok. Orc, for example, would be pronounced ock. Thus, when you come to Auckland, you also enter Orcland.

With that said, I leave you to get back to my last week of classes. I am now updated up into mid-August. The next update may take awhile… considering that my next trip is my two-week spring break. So I’ll see you then.

I took NO pictures on this trip. All pictures are credited to Brad B, Britt O, and Helen A.

“Even i am eatable. And that my dear children is called cannibalism which is frowned upon in most societies.” -Johnny Depp as Willy Wonka

So… you want to be a cannibal?

Or, eh, you’d like to hear more about cannibalism? This post won’t be a story about “primitive man” and a “barbaric” instinct for human meat. This will, rather, be a more serious post about the nature of cannibalism among the Maori in New Zealand. And, since European sailors were the ones who originally wrote about their observations in New Zealand, this post will also be about a sailor’s morbid fascination with cannibalism.

For sailors, at least, there was always a fear that a shipwreck would force them into cannibalism. You may have heard stories about starving sailors, drawing straws to pick out the one among them who would die so that the rest could live….

These stories were foremost on the minds of the European sailors who first arrived in New Zealand. Captain Cook (the New Zealand version of Columbus) and his men first encountered cannibalism at Queen Charlotte Sound… and, since then, there has been a lot of writing on the issue. Cook, unlike others of his time, strangely insisted in his journals, “They eat their enemies slain in battle - this seems to come from custom and not from a Savage disposition - this they cannot be charged with.”

Based on my elementary understanding of Maori customs - keeping in mind that these customs varied from tribe to tribe and region to region - I’ll try to explain the basic principles of cannibalism in New Zealand.

The Maori have a concept called mana. Mana, explained simply, is the authority and respect that a person has. Though a person is born with a certain amount of mana (based on bloodlines), any person’s mana can increase and decrease based on his or her actions. Someone who kills many people in battle gains more mana while those who are cowardly lose mana. People can also gain and lose mana based on reciprocity.

Here, we have the basic anthropological ideas of reciprocity: there is some social obligation to fulfill after someone has given a gift to another person. Gift exchanges build relationships, and gift exchanges are, thus, an important part of social life. Anyone who does not return a gift in some shape or form loses mana and those who give more gain mana.

In addition to gift exchanges, insults are also a part of the concept of reciprocity for the Maori. If a person insults you, your mana will be horribly damaged unless you reciprocate that insult.

With that in mind, cannibalism in Maori society is not the practice of hunting down and eating others. Rather, cannibalism involves raising one’s mana, decreasing the mana of one’s enemies, and reciprocating insults. Oftentimes, cannibalism was only practiced after someone from another group has greatly insulted your group. In such cases, there may be no other way for you to regain your mana.

Cannibalism is the greatest insult one tribe can give another tribe, especially if the person eaten is a chief. Because the chiefs and their ancestors are extremely, extremely sacred (the Maori term would be tapu), then the simple act of changing these sacred men into profane, everyday food (profane would be noa) would be very damaging to the tribe’s mana and its reputation.

And thus ends my attempt at describing a complicated cultural practice in a short, simple post.

Fine, fine…

I realize New Zealand’s a bit more than a centre (woah - I just spelled that the Kiwi/British way) of adventure tourism. Some of you are probably interested in my daily life here… my classes, my schedule, and my weekends when I’m not out touring the country.

Because, you know, that stuff actually is very interesting.

But guess what? You will… NEVER know about it!

Or, eh, maybe not never. But you won’t hear about it today because I still have a lot of other stuff that I need to catch up on. It’s been insane lately, what with the onslaught of papers and exams that I have suddenly come in. Midterms are just about over, but I still have a lot of stuff to do.

As a result, with a lot of work… comes a lot of procrastination.

So I give you this week’s edition: Merging like a Zipper.

The excitement of the beginning has passed by this point… we’ve formed the fellowship, we’ve bypassed the initial orcs, and now… we have weeks of mindless walking in front of us. There are still battles approaching, we still have an enemy to fight, and, as always, there’s that the burden that one of our group carries around his neck. But until the next adrenaline rush, all we have is a bucket full of boredom and a field full of sheep.

BAAHHH!

But we also have archaeological field trips. As an anthropology student, it’s my duty to my fellowship to explore all the branches of my department, even if archeology’s focus on artifacts pales in comparison to my more sensible interest in people.

Right… so, eh…

Archeology field trip. About a month ago - two weeks or so after my trip to Rotorua, my lecturer from my NZ Archaeology paper brought us out on a trip to this giant hill. “Paper,” by the way, is the Kiwi term for “class.” So, lately, I’ve been writing papers for my papers.

Anyway-

Because, by that point, I had made a friend in that class, she offered to give me a ride. Otherwise, I would have to crowd into a bus with the rest of the class and suffer through a bumpy, probably vomit-inducing ride. We left early… and arrived long before anyone else was there, so she decided to give me a tour of the neighborhood.

Her tour consisted of every major and minor landmark in the area… and its thorough history. I saw a bank where a gun was fired once upon a time (a rare occurrence due to the strict gun laws in this country), and several stores with strange names. There was a clothing store called “The Carpenter’s Daughter.” No idea where that came from.

Of course, I also commented on random things that stood out to me on the streets. There are a lot of rotaries here, and there are a lot of strange signs. One of these signs is a picture with a zipper and a car. That’s right. You’ve guessed it: Merge like a zipper.

Our first stop was a dead end - the edge of the road where we could see a little lake area with a little island. That island was fascinating. It was small and.. well, take a look for yourself:

Don’t worry. You’ll see more pictures of this amazing island later.
We proceeded, then, to go to a little area by the harbor… with benches and geese and stuff. I guess it’s a park-like area. There’s a sign there that says…

No alcohol.
No smoking.
No parking on the grass.
No fishing.
No littering.
Do not collect shellfish.

Yep. That shellfish thing was random. Only… not quite. Shellfish were the main source of protein for the Maori here in New Zealand after the fauna population was depleted. Some Maori probably have continued to collect shellfish.

Only one picture of that harbor area, mainly because my fingers were freezing in the wind. August is winter here, remember?

We passed by some houses. My friend and tour guide pointed out a Maori sovereignty flag outside one house… and a New Zealand flag outside of another. I made a comment about a game of Capture the Flag, but I sensed that there are tensions in New Zealand between some Maori and some white Kiwis. The Land Wars, after all, isn’t too far back in history. More on my observations on these tensions may… or may not come later.

But-

After that, we finally hopped back into the car and drove to our field trip destination: Mangere Pa.

Our first view of Mangere Pa.

I’ll begin with some background. A pa is, in essence, a Maori fortified site. Once the original Polynesian settlers have arrived in Aotearoa (aka New Zealand) and settled into groups, conflicts began… possibly as a result of a competition for resources, which resulted from a rise in the population.

The pa formed as a defensive refuge and a lookout point. They were made on natural hills, though the land was modified with terraces and artificially flattened land. Defensive structures, for the most part. Mangere Pa had a strange crater in its center:

Around this crater, there were several holes in the ground. These holes are kumara pits - sweet potato storage areas. They were covered once upon a time (wood tends to deteriorate over time). And… yeah. They stored lots of sweet potato.

You can just make out the dips in the land.

These pits covered most of the pa, and I took a lot of pictures of them. As the only American in the group of Kiwi students, I felt obliged to play up the American tourist stereotype.

Oh! Here’s a giant kumara pit. Since we were all standing over it looking down, we created some nice shadows… so it’s pretty.

Yes, there are a lot of kumara pits. But they weren’t all used at the same time, so it’s actually fairly difficult to estimate the population of the people who once lived at the site. Sweet potato tends to rot easily, and a pit becomes disgusting and bacteria-filled after it’s stored kumara for a while.

We also got to play with a long steel stick thingy:

I’m not sure what it’s called, but it’s used to feel for midden. Midden would be a pile of prehistoric rubbish. Shells from shellfish, chips from broken tools, animal (and human) bones would be thrown into a big pile. For the most part, these pits were filled with the inedible parts of prehistoric Maori diet. And yeah - when I said that human bones were sometimes found in these sites, it means that some Maori did practice cannibalism. Not all… but some. And they have their reasons for it. It wasn’t too commonplace. Let me know if you’re interested, and I can write more about it from what I know via ethnography. But back to the kumara pits: sometimes, the Maori would take these piles and use them to fill up old storage pits.

Archaeologists love trash, and they love to analyze it, so midden is actually pretty interesting to study. They would take that stick and push it through the dirt into the ground. If it hits something hard and makes a crunch sound, then, chances are, you’ve hit midden.

Some midden, of course, rises up to the surface. When you look at it… for the most part, it’s a bunch of broken shells in the dirt. See the little white things?

And here’s a person actually using that long steel stick thing to search for midden.

Here’s some artificially flattened land. At one point, there were probably some houses or small buildings on this bit of land.

We climbed up to the top… and got a great view of the waters around Auckland and Mangere Pa.

Yep. It’s a great lookout point. Someone up here would be able to spot invading canoes long before they arrive.

Here’s a terrace - a man-made depression in the hill. A bit like a moat, I guess… only without the water. The defender has the advantage of higher ground. Moreover, wooden palisades used to jut out of the ground, further blocking the invader from attacking.

Here are some random cows on the pa. Yeah… by the way, these cows mean that I went home with my nice sneakers covered in poo.

Oh! Look! It’s that little island again! Only, this time, I’m looking down at it from the top of the pa! Yeah… I really liked that little random island.

And, finally, more of the view from the top. New Zealand’s a beautiful country….

(I was a bit embarrassed at how touristy I was. So I tried to take a picture from the top… out from my pocket… without looking at the screen. The following picture shows how wonderful my aim is.)

Mangere pa is only twenty minutes or so away from the center of Auckland. The city’s not that great, architecturally, but the area’s beautiful. I also thoroughly enjoyed this field trip. For those who don’t know what they’re looking for, the pa’s just a giant hill with livestock and poop on it. For those who do, there’s a good bit of history in the land.

After the field trip, I got a ride back to campus… where I had lunch with my friend before we parted ways. I had class, and she had to go home.

Here’s an interesting aside. You may not get it if you’ve never been to Auckland… and it’s probably a lot harder to tell this joke through text, but I want to give it a try. I thought the joke was funny.

Background notes:

-Mangere Pa is one of many pa in New Zealand. The biggest and most well-known/tourist-y pa is in Auckland… known as One Tree Hill (this is its English name).

-There are many places in New Zealand that have retained their original Maori names. Mangere Pa is one example. Rangitoto and Rotorua are two other examples.

-Maori pronunciation is different. “Wh” is pronounced with an f sound. “Whangarei,” for example, would be pronounced fong - uh - ray. “A’s” are like the “o’s” in “bog.”

-”O’s” are pronounced ah. Onehunga is pronounced Ohn - uh - hung - uh.

Okay. With that in mind… here’s the joke:

An American tourist in Auckland returned to his hotel one night. The person at the front desk asked him what he had done that day. The tourist replied, “I went to One - Hunga.” (Pronounced as the number “one” followed by “hunga.”)

The person at the front desk laughed and responded, “No… you were at Ohn - uh -hung - uh. You see, there are two languages in New Zealand: English and Maori.”

The tourist nodded. He understood. The next day, he comes back from a trip. Once again, the person at the front desk asked him what he had done that day. The tourist grinned and responded, “I went to Ohn - uh Tree Hill.”

–
End of Joke.

Get it? He actually went to One Tree Hill… but… he pronounced it in Maori and…
Er.

You need to hear it to get it. And… yeah, it’s a funny joke… because… I thought it was. And.. it was corny. I like corny jokes.

Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this entry. I’ll try and update again soon. In the meantime, good night.

—
The picture of sheep, I stole off of Google. I do have a LOT of pictures of sheep… but I didn’t take any of them on this particular trip, and I was too lazy to dig them up. The other pictures, I actually took myself for once.

I know. A period of nothing… and then, all of a sudden, one post after another. Heh… that’s how I tend to do things: all at once. So yeah.

And now… woah. If you ever go to New Zealand, Rotorua is the place to be. Three of us took a three day trip to Rotorua. We left one Friday (on the first day of the Olympics) and returned that Sunday. We rented a car, drove on the left side of the road, and…

Well. It was my first taste of adventure tourism in New Zealand. So let’s begin:

—

Friday

After class ended, we loaded our bags, packed it into a rental car, and left the city for Rotorua. My friend Brad drove out of the city, friend Kate navigated, and I sat in the back and tried not to get sick. The cows, sheep, horses, farms, and sights around me… bunched together with the camera in my hands… made it hard for me to concentrate on not getting sick.

Fortunately, I didn’t get sick. Not yet. Because… when I do, it gets ugly.

When we reached the halfway point, I took over the driving. Here’s some tips… if you ever end up in a situation where you have to drive on the “wrong” side of the road: stay awake, keep left, and watch out for right turns. If you’re in New Zealand, you’ll probably also run into a LOT of traffic circles.

Anyway, that night, nature was waiting for me to start driving. The moment I got in, it started to rain… and the sun started to set.

That was loads of fun….

There weren’t any close calls, considering that it was my first time driving here… though I did make a wrong exit from a rotary at one point. No worries, though. The GPS that we had helped a lot with that, and it beeped everytime I reached 100. That’s… 100km/hour, if you’re wondering. And, when I was driving… it tended to beep a lot.

Yeah… er, blame the New Jersey driver in me….

When we reached the hostel, we got our rooms and settled in. Here’s what the room looked like:

Actually, before I move on, I need to put in a little side story. After we checked in, we needed to repark the car. Brad took over the driving at that point and brought it around to the back. He thought that he saw something strange in the darkness of the parking lot, but he ignored it as a trick of the light….

Then came a BOOM against the side of the car door, and a giant… black furry creature glared at us.

It licked the window.

Brad freaked out. Everyone else (me included) thought it was funny.

But, eh, to his credit… if I had been driving, I… would have been scared too. I think the laughter that came afterwards was more of a… nervous… yes-we-survived thing, rather than a… it-was-funny.. thing.

Yeah.. er… anyway. Back to that night. We settled in, walked through the town, and stopped at Hell’s Pizza for some dinner. If you’ve never been to one, you need to go. It has at least seven pizzas. Each pizza is named after one of the seven sins… and the pizza is, in my opinion, actually… better than Antonio’s. The prices weren’t too bad either. I stuck with pasta, though, which was also pretty good.

A bit more wandering around the city.

More comments about how sulphury Rotorua smells. I didn’t mention that before… but, because the place is covered with hot pools and geysers and… signs of volcanic activity, it smells sulphury.

Played some Egyptian Rat Screw.

Then we watched the Opening Ceremonies for the Olympics on the television in our hostel common room.

Struggled to stay awake through the flag thing.

And passed out for the night.

—

Saturday

While Friday was a traveling/exploring/getting oriented day, Saturday was a day of near-death experiences. Ok… eh, not quite. But I definitely experienced adrenaline rush after adrenaline rush.

After a quick Fish ‘N Chips breakfast… (or, er… as quick for me… which.. is slow… for most people), we set off for the Agrodome.

The Agrodome is a concentration of intense… adventurous activities, combined with… paddocks full of animals. I’ll let you know what I did here… and then I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.

Zorbing: We were placed into a big plastic ball. This ball is then filled with water… and then we were pushed off the side of the hill. We bounce down the hill and get splashed all over… all while we crushed each other within the confines of the big, plastic ball. If you have the chance, you need to do this.

Freefall: We jumped onto a giant fan. The giant fan lifted us off the ground. It’s supposed to simulate skydiving. We’ll leave it at that.

And yes… the fan distorted my face a bit.

Swoop: I call this a baby-step to bungee jumping. Don’t think it’s not scary though… because… it’s single-handedly the scariest thing I’ve done up to this point. I’m wrapped up in a giant cocoon, lifted up to… very high, and dropped suddenly… when one of us finally gets the guts to pull the cord. We freefall for a long time… then swing slowly to a stop.

I wanted to do bungee jumping before this.

I decided I didn’t want to do bungee jumping when I was at the top.

After it ended, I forgot the fear… and now I want to bungee jump again.

But… yeah – pictures:

Exciting as.

(I know. That doesn’t make sense… but it’s a saying here. You add “as” after a word to intensify it. Slang. The most common one is “Sweet as.”)

Anyway, after that, we set off for… a much safer farm tour. This included… cows, lamas (!!!!), sheep, lamb, pigs, deer, emus, ostriches, and… LAMAS! Heh… I had to say that again. But no. They’re not actually lamas. They’re alpacas or something. No one seems to be able to tell me the difference between a lama and an alpaca though… so I’ll just pretend that they’re the same.

Anyway, I stepped in a lot of poop, and I fed some animals. They kept on asking for food even when I didn’t have any more… so I backed off and tried to show my hands empty.

By the way – cows are much MUCH bigger than I thought they would be.

When all that was done, we had dinner at a little cafe place at the Agrodome (I had a Shepard’s Pie). Then we drove off to Rainbow Springs.

Rainbow Springs is a giant area, filled with habitats for fish, birds, and… yes… wallabies. Since we came at night (with the sole intention of seeing some kiwis), we missed many of the birds and animals that were awake during the daytime. And since it was freezing cold, we didn’t walk through the entire thing.

We met Jenny.

Jenny’s a kea, brought up in captivity. She also tries to talk, by mimicking humans. Her “hello” sounds more like “HA HO!” If you continue to talk with her, she says more things… but it comes out sounding like laughter. “HAHAHAHA!” The longer I stayed, the quieter she got. She didn’t stop talking… but her screech stopped sounding so much like a screech after a while. When we left, though, she purred… almost as though she were crying.

After we left Jenny, we saw some swans and some other birds. I stood beside a giant fake moa for a picture. A moa, by the way, is a prehistoric flightless bird, native to New Zealand. It didn’t have any fight-flight instincts when humans first landed on New Zealand, so it was extinct within a couple hundred years(?). It’s been gone since… at least 1600AD.

Then, of course, we saw some kiwis.

They’re small, brown flightless birds… famous in New Zealand. Local New Zealanders have adopted it as a national symbol… so much so that local New Zealanders call themselves Kiwis. They’re nocturnal so we weren’t allowed to take pictures with the flash on while we were there.

Nevertheless, one of us accidentally left the flash on for one picture… and a bird (not the one who was flashed) panicked and ran around in circles for a while.

It was… er, amusing… to watch.

Oh! And that also meant we got a great picture of a kiwi:

After that, we left Rainbow Springs, warmed up in the car, and headed for McDonald’s.

Yeah… heh. I know. Why McDonald’s? Honestly, I… wanted to try out the Kiwi Burger. It’s a hamburger with a beet and an egg on it. It was good. And I think the burger was a bit more substantial than the McDonald’s burgers back home. I’m not really sure, though, since I haven’t gotten a burger from McDonald’s in ages.

We went home, played some more Egyptian Rat Screw, and fell asleep.

—

Sunday

We woke up early Sunday, packed up, and checked out of the hostel. We weren’t quite ready to go home though… because, after a small breakfast (banana bread or something), we still had to go see the hot springs at Waiotapu. “Wai” is Maori for “water.” “Tapu” is Maori for “sacred.” So, essentially, Waiotapu means “Sacred Water.”

Anyway, beautiful pictures. Lots of pretty rocks. Mud pools. Nice, warm steam… and a decent hike.

After all that, we watched the 10:00am water-rising-out-of-geyser thingy. Yeah. I know. I’m really bad with terminology, but it was interesting. What caught me by surprise, though, was that someone actually had to go up and put something in the geyser to get it to start going. I thought that this stuff was natural… and I do think it is. This one was just weird.

But… the water did go pretty high:

After that, I started driving… for our journey home. I wanted to drive the first half because I wanted to avoid the city driving. Everything was going well. We stopped for lunch. I ate a delicious burger… though I’m not sure exactly what kind of meat was in it.

On the second half of the trip, when I sat on the passenger seat, I started to get carsick. It started off with some dizziness… a headache… and then a stomach ache. When we finally arrived back in Auckland, I was in pain and half-dead. I stumbled out of the car, grabbed my stuff… and clambered out to the front of the store. While the other two spoke with the car rental guy and took care of all that bureaucratic stuff, I was on the sidewalk outside, crouched down against the wall. I ignored passerby… while they stared curiously at me.

And I threw up.

Not pretty. My burger came right back up. I struggled back to UniLodge and was helped up to my room. I lay down on the floor for a bit before I took a shower… and… threw up there again. I cleaned it up best I could, went to my bed, and passed out.

After that nap, I felt better. My great trip to Rotorua ended on a memorably disgusting note, but I learned one great lesson:

I have a better chance of dying from a rough car ride and a bad hamburger than I do of dying from a jump off a building with a rope tied to my ankle.

(I took some of these pictures… but Brad B. took most of them. I stole ‘em from him… with his permission, of course.)

Ok.

Hello again. I realize that it’s been a while since my last update… but, eh, I’ve never been good at doings things regularly. You’re probably surprised that I’m even here… updating. But I have loads of pictures saved on my computer, and it’s about time that I… did.. something with them. Whatever that something is.

Right… er, let’s begin where I last left off.

A week (or two?) after the hike up to the summit of Rangitoto, IFSA-Butler (my program) took us to our first live rugby game. If you remember the post about orientation, then you’ll remember that I learned how to play touch rugby. Real rugby, though, is a hundred times rougher than touch rugby. Real rugby, believe it or not, is more dangerous than American football.

Real rugby is American football. Minus the padding.

And, that night… was more than real rugby.

That night was the All Blacks versus the Wallabies.
New Zealand versus Australia.

Kinda like Red Sox against the Yankees. Only… I know absolutely nothing about baseball… so, eh…

Amherst versus Williams?
Except… er… more intense. Much more intense. Take away the padding, take away that “touch rugby” stuff, throw in blood and dirt and bone…

Then you get a sense of what I saw that night.

Enough ranting now. Let’s go back to that night, and let’s begin with the costume. Since I’m in New Zealand, I set out the day before to buy myself some new All Blacks gear. I left the store with a black and white fleece jacket and a waterproof jersey underneath. Kind of stupid, when I think back on it… since, as usual, we were expecting it to rain that night. I’ll get to that later….

Once I was all set to go, I descended the UniLodge elevator to the first floor for some free pizza from Mel (the program’s “Student Liasons Officer” aka our mum for our time here). While everyone ate, a friend took out some face paints and started covering everyone’s faces in the traditional black and white.

I ventured forth… and allowed one small addition to my face: a small black kiwi bird.

Then, faces covered, we set off for the crowded train.

Since we were expecting some rain, I wore my yellow raincoat over my All Blacks stuff. I wore several layers to keep myself warm, but that yellow and blue raincoat basically hid the home team support that I was trying to give. Actually… it did more than that.

If you know anything about rugby, you’ll know that yellow and blue are the colors of the Australian Wallabies. So, in effect, I was walking around a city in the colors of the visiting ‘enemy’ team. When the rain didn’t come… and I heard some boo’s from behind me, I quickly pulled off the jacket. It wasn’t raining yet, and I was afraid that the colors of my jacket would provoke some of the pre-gamed All Blacks supporters.

We arrived at the stadium without too much trouble, found our seats, and waited for the game to begin.

The rugby game began with two national anthems – Australia’s and New Zealand’s. If you haven’t heard the New Zealand National Anthem, you should give it a listen. It’s half in Maori, half in English… and extremely interesting to listen to. It incorporates both the indigenous culture and the Kiwi culture. After that, the Wallabies stood side by side and grabbed each other’s shoulders… bracing themselves… for the All Blacks’ Haka.

A haka is a Maori war dance, traditionally done before a battle to intimidate their enemies. The All Blacks have adopted it… and, as the Wallabies stood in silence, the All Blacks stamped their feet, yelled something about death in Maori (“Ka Mate!”), stuck out their tongues, bulged their eyes, and made themselves look as scary as possible.

I kind of… felt bad for anyone who had to stand in front of them.

Then, of course, the game began.

It was intense, to say the least. There were several injuries… and there was this one move that I noticed. Everytime someone threw a ball in from the boundaries of the field, their teammates would, of course, try to catch it. But they didn’t all stay at ground level. One or two players from both teams tended to boost another player up – throw him into the air so that he could catch a ball that was… way above their heads. It worked some of the time and… I was actually waiting for someone to fall face first onto the ground from that position.

Didn’t happen. But… it was interesting.

Anyway, at the end of the day, the All Blacks killed the Wallabies by… a lot… (I can’t remember anymore, but the score reminded me of the Amherst-Williams Homecoming game two years back).

And – good news – it didn’t rain at all.

So that was that, and we all crowded into a train and made our ways back home after a brief, relaxing stop at a coffee shop.

Most of these pictures, by the way, are courtesy of Helen A. Because… you know how lazy I am with a camera.

This picture… with the bad camera lighting… is one that I actually took. But they’re actually in the middle of a game here, so I thought I’d include it.

(And this… is our group picture.)

There once was a Tupua couple on the North Island. These Tupua were children of the Fire Gods. One day, while they were home in Auckland, they quarreled and cursed the goddess of fire, Mahuika. The slighted Mahuika petitioned Mataoho, the god of earthquakes and eruptions, for his help. Mataoho created an eruption that swallowed the Tupua couple’s home, creating a hole in Auckland - a lake replaced land. At the same time, the strength of that eruption thrust an island volcano up from the ocean.

In this way, Rangitoto was born.

Rangitoto is a now supposedly extinct volcano near Auckland. The picture featured above, stolen from Google, shows the beautiful island at sunset (or sunrise?). One Monday morning - my definition of morning equates to the afternoon for most - I went with a small fellowship of volunteers. We were eager to climb to the top of that volcano… and we were anxious to throw in and, thus, destroy a ring that we had acquired.

Uh…

Oh. Sorry. That’s the wrong story. I’m short, but I’m not that short. And unlike my brother, my legs aren’t as hairy as a hobbit’s.

Anyway. One Saturday morning (at 11:00am or so), I left UniLodge for the ferry terminal on Quay St. I passed by a Gelato store, did my best to ignore the big ads for a Gelato Burger, and promised myself that I would return later. With a bagged lunch in hand, I boarded the ferry.

We ate our self-made sandwiches on the second deck of the ferry, then proceeded to take pictures as the boat slowly sang its high-pitched farewell to the beautiful city. Yes. These pictures are actually taken from my camera.

That’s my first picture. You can see the dock, the other boats, and the city. I took this from the ferry, so you can see it in the frame.

We’re slowly leaving the city. More tall buildings.

Ah. Finally. We’re far enough away to actually see the skyline. You can see Sky Tower, the big needly thing there. It’s no longer as clear though.

The ferry trip cost us $20 per person. I would guess that’s somewhere between $16-$18 USD, but my estimation skills are horrible. It actually wasn’t too bad… and we got to see a bit of what Devonport looks like. The ferry stopped there first, letting off some passengers and picking up some others.

Devonport, by the way, is a small community in Auckland. It’s one of those places where everyone knows everyone else… but, since I actually did take a trip there, I’ll save Devonport for another post. I forgot to bring my camera, though, so I’ll have to tell that story without any pictures.

Once the ferry left Devonport, we finally landed on the shores of Rangitoto. There were a couple small buildings around the dock… there was a little house, an old truck, bathrooms, and a larger tourist truck thingy that provided a tour of the island for the lazy people.

Surprisingly, I didn’t take that tour. I actually hiked up….

My first impressions?

Did you see Mama Mia? Other than the volcanic rock that made up the island, this place felt like the island in Mama Mia… minus the singing and the locals.

Here’s a bit of the rocky shore.

Once the ferry had left, we had no choice but to make our way up to the top of the volcano. We had three hours until the last ferry left the island, and we had a two hour hike in front of us - an hour up the island and an hour down. Though there were occasional constructed paths (all the paths were undoubtedly man-made), the majority of the trails were tramps over loose, volcanic rock. There were a couple fallen logs in the way and small puddles that remained from the last rainfall. It’s winter in New Zealand, after all… but I definitely prefer this winter to the winter back home.

The perilous, rocky path.

Since Rangitoto is relatively young for a volcano, vegetation’s slow, and animal life is sparse. There are a couple birds… and my imagination warns me that there are killer ants under all the rocks… but we really didn’t see too much wild life.

We did, however, see a pretty tree.

Pretty tree!

There’s this field where ferns are supposed to grow… in the summer. There aren’t any ferns there now… but look at how flat that piece of land is. It’s uncanny.

We were at a rest area with a good view of Auckland. You can just make out the Sky Tower from here.

Oh. And since I said that there were a lot of rocks… I guess I should stop showing you the green, and satisfy the thirsty Geo majors out there.

Volcanic rock surrounded by trees and stuff. You can also see the tip of my finger. That’s how you know I took the picture. My little sister would be proud… Either that, or she’s at home, shaking her head at this.

Oooh. Let’s zoom in all the rocks. Pretty rocks.

Gah. Fine! Here’s one picture of me… and more rocks. This picture’s for my parents… so please just cover me with your thumb. Thank you.

After an hour of strenuous hiking, we finally reached the top. The sudden increase in man-made paths and structures alerted us to our arrival, and a new sound reached our ears. Birds were chirping… and, since we could finally relax for a bit, I figured it was a sign that we had reached Mt. Olympus’ peak.

Things are out of order here… but here’s the walkway that lines the peak.

Oh right. Before we actually reached the volcano’s summit, we reached a crater. It was this big hole in the ground… covered by an impenetrable group of trees. I strained to see the bottom of the crater, but I wasn’t tall enough.

You can just make out the center of the crater.

A pretty bird on the walkway to the summit.

And, finally, the view from the top:

When we finished playing with our evil cameras, we turned around and took the hour hike back down. When we were going up, we told ourselves that the trip the other way would be easier….

Needless to say, my hike down resulted in nearly-twisted ankles. We encountered more unstable rocks on the way down… and my downhill leg muscles suffered. I think we saw two kids trip, fall, and cry. Don’t worry - their parents were with them.

By the time we reached the bottom, my legs were sore… and a big, purple bruise had appeared on my left ankle. We rested while we waited for the ferry to return, walked slowly on, and sat inside the ferry on our way back to the city. I think I napped during that trip….

After that nap, we treated ourselves to some gelato. I used this opportunity to try out the gelato burger. It’s essentially a hot donut with cold gelato in the center. Delicious.

Anyway, I returned back to UniLodge, inspected my bruise, and decided to ignore it. I proceeded to go to fencing that Monday night for some interaction with Kiwi fencers… which is always fun… before I returned home for some much needed sleep.

This is a picture of a Whare Hui on a Marae. Not the one that we stayed at, though - this one’s googled.

Alright.. I’m back. I’ve been lazy and couldn’t gather up the energy to write here. It’s… tiring, you know, pushing down the keys on a keyboard. Takes, uh, a lot of energy.

Right, um. So we’re back on the bus, waiting outside the Marae when Andrew, one of the Butler staff, gestures for us to get off. He must have heard the welcoming calls of a Maori woman - the summons, the beginning of the karanga, sets off a series of back and forth exchanges between a female from the host party and a female from the visiting party. A Maori woman (possibly from another tribe?) joins our group to perform the reciprocal calls in the Maori language.

According to the briefing that we had the previous night (a briefing that taught us Maori pronunciation and the basic protocol of this powhiri/welcoming ceremony), this exchange of greetings is a time to remember those who have recently passed away. It also states the purpose of the upcoming meeting.

As the karanga took place, the group stepped through the gates and onto the Marae. We took slow steps forward… with the women in front and the men behind us. The only men who stood in front of us were the two students whom the women had voted as our speakers for the night. We all stood there, shivering in the cold, as the next part of the powhiri began.

Then came the Taki or Wero (I’m getting these two names from Wikipedia which we all know is… an extremely reliable source). For our group, this meant that a Maori man in the traditional outfit of a Maori warrior came out of the Whare hui (I’m getting this from memory) and slowly advanced towards us with a staff in hand.

I was shivering with three layers of heavy clothes on, and this man didn’t even have a shirt on; for a second, I wondered how he could stand the cold… or if the adrenaline from the ceremony pushed those thoughts aside.

Anyway, he advanced towards us with a mixture of battle cries, intimidating glares, and thrusts of his staff. He came right up to our two male student speakers and thrust the spear by their faces… then stopped, backed off, and placed a small branch and leaf onto the ground. One of those speakers stepped forward and slowly picked up the branch. Then the Maori man retreated back into the Whare hui, and we followed.

We had to, of course, take off our shoes as we entered the Whare hui. We were later told that the whare hui is the women’s domain. The columns surrounding the doors were a women’s leg and the room inside is the womb where its occupants are watched over and protected. As the next part of the welcoming ceremony began, the women (who were previously in the front) filed into the last three rows of seats while the men filed into the first two rows. This setup is supposed to act as a defense for the women - if the host warriors were to attack, the men would be able to protect the women.

The host elder and speaker stood up and welcomed us in the Maori language. While the Maori warrior who had given us the branch outside had been in traditional garb, this elder was wearing a western outfit - pants, t-shirt, jacket, etc. I had realized that the majority of the ceremony had been a bit of a show, designed for visiting students. We were told, later, that this Marae wasn’t open for tourists… and, while I truly respect the ceremony and the culture, I wondered if a group of visiting students deserved the honor that such a ceremony traditionally grants.

Regardless, I did greatly appreciate the experience of the ceremony. As the host elder gave his speech, I sat back and listened to the language - taking the time to both enjoy the undercurrents of the speech without understanding its literal meaning. I examined the designs on the walls and the figures (with their glowing, seashell eyes and the extended tongue) and waited for the speech to end. When it did, the group of Maori hosts all stood up and sang. The singing that follows a speech acts as a signal that the rest of the group agrees with what their speaker has said. When the song ended, the Maori hosts sat down.

It was our turn to give our speeches.

Two students and the Maori man who taught us the basics of the protocol of this ceremony (a man from another tribe) acted as our speakers. After each speech, we all stood up and sang a song. As I wrote before, our group sang two Maori songs and one American one - Amazing Grace. If you’re interested, here are the words to the two songs. I’ll.. keep them here as a reminder to myself later on:

Tutira Mai
Tutira mai nga iwi
Tatou tatou e
Tutira mai nga iwi
Tatou tatou e
Whaia te maramatanga
Me te aroha, e nga iwi
Kia ko tapatahi
Kia kotahi ra
Tatou tatou e
Tatou tatou e

Te Ahroha
Te aroha
Te whakapono
Me te rangimarie
Tatou, tatou e
(Repeat)

–
If you’re interested, wh is pronounced f in the Maori language. Go ahead and try singing it. I’m sure you’ll be able to google the tunes. It was.. quite fun, even though I’m glad that the overall singing drowned out my horrible singing voice.

Once the speeches and the songs were done, we all went up and gave a Hongi to each of the host Maori. A Hongi is a Maori greeting, where each person shake hands and press their noses against one another. It is a traditional “sharing of the breath of life” (once again from the extremely reliable Wikipedia).

If you’re wondering about the pictures… I still hadn’t found my camera, and we weren’t allowed to take pictures during the ceremony anyway. But here’s a googled image of the hongi.

That marked the end of the ceremony and the beginning of the feast. We went to the dining hall (there’s another name for this, but my memory’s failing me here) and ate a great meal. The meat was cooked underground - the chefs dug a hole in the ground, buried the food, and cooked it all with burning coals. During the meal, a group of Maori men and women performed on stage for us.

This image, I actually stole from a friend’s blog… but this is the group of people I saw and it’s taken while I was watching. I should be… a good bit behind the camera. Anyway, they showed us some traditional dances and items. There was a ball on a string - once used as a training implement for young men - as a part of the dance, as well as a small club. Several of the female students were dragged up for a dance involving the aptly-named ball on a string. Afterwards, the guys were dragged up and disrobed.

That’s.. um.. right.

Then they were all taught the haka. The haka, from what I could gather, is a war dance that involves stamping, making lots of noise, sticking your tongue out, bulging your eyes, and, in short, making yourself as intimidating as possible. If you haven’t seen it, you need to youtube a video of the New Zealand All Blacks (the #1 rugby team in the world) performing it. It’s.. pretty intense.

After the show (and a reciprocal thank you via a magic effect for the performers), we cleaned up and reentered the whare hui for a good night’s sleep. We lay mattresses out on the floor, set up the pillows, pulled out our sleeping bags, and prepared for a moe (sleep).

But, because we weren’t tired yet… and it was our last night with everyone - some of the students would be leaving for Christchurch and the Butler staff were probably tired of us by that point - I performed some more magic. After half an hour or so, we returned to our sleeping bags and sat bag to an information session by a Maori woman who told us a bit about Maori history, religion, and politics.

When she was done, we finally closed our eyes and passed out for the night.

7 July: The next day, we woke up to our last good breakfast. Once we finished, some of us helped with the dishes while we waited for the farewell ceremony. When all the eating and the cleaning was done, individual students took turns standing up to thank our hosts. Then one of our male student speakers stood up to give the final farewell and handed our small hosts a small tree. We all stood up and sang Te Ahroha one last time.

When we finished, our hosts gave their speeches and sang their songs. We ended with a farewell hongi, gathered our stuff, and left the Marae with both a lot of new information, an amazing experience, and, it seems, new Maori relatives.

Before we left for the airport to drop off half our group, the Butler staff had one final mystery destination for us. The bus drove us through Auckland and into… the Villa Maria Vineyard for some wine tasting. We wafted the scent, twirled the glass, wafted more, sipped, gurgled, and swallowed. We were supposed to spit it back out, but our guide through the building forgot to take out the spitting bowl thingies.

We tried two white wines and two red ones - I took small sips of each and swallowed a lot of water afterwards. Honestly, though, the sweeter wines were manageable, flavor-wise. It’s a good place to bring my parents if they come down….

Afterwards, we got a tour of the interior of the vineyard. A machine fills up the bottles, caps them, labels them, and cleans them, while humans package the bottles into boxes. The first and last forty bottles of wine are discarded each day to ensure quality; these bottles, of course, end up in the hands of the vineyard’s staff. After some students bought bottles of wine (to take home for their parents, of course), we loaded back onto the bus and headed to the airport.

We gave the other students a brief farewell before heading to our new home in Auckland - UniLodge. And thus ends our orientation - what I call Camp New Zealand. The next stage is the “living on your own” stage… and then, finally, comes school.

But we’re not there yet.. and I think I’m done for the day.