Weekend at Omaha Marae

This past weekend, the Loyola group was shuttled to a Marae about an hour and a half outside of Auckland on the lovely shores of the Northland's western coast. A group of young guide from Potikiri Adventures escorted us and led us through the welcome ceremonies performed by the owners of the marae. A marae, by the way, is a Maori meeting ground. The land is very sacred to the Maoris and shoes are not to be worn inside the marae building, nor are food or drink to be taken inside. The welcome ceremony began with our group standing at the outskirts of the marae, the women in front and men in the back. As a Maori woman chanted a welcome from the doors of the building, we walked forward slowly and entered the meeting house to the right side, the visitor's side. After paying our respects to the elders of the marae, we sat for a formal greeting given by a man named Uncle Perry. Then, as Maori tradition dictates, the greeting was followed by a song sung by the woman and Uncle Perry. Then it was our turn. Brent gave a short speech thanking the owners for sharing their place with us and we sang a song in Maori, following the lead of one of our guides.
The formalities having ended, we ventured outside as the sun crept lower in the sky to take pictures of the idyllic setting and kick a soccer ball around a bit. Dinner followed, and then a drive to the local pub, where we got to know our guides better. I spoke with one guide in particular and found that she is an avid climber and she offered to take me climbing around Auckland! I haven't got her info, but we'll see that group in a few weekends hopefully again when we go to Taupo and Rotorua. I would absolutely love to learn how to climb while I'm down here!
The next morning, I woke before everyone else to a bright orange and pink sky. I grabbed my camera and ran outside with two others who'd been admiring the same view. Being awake at that time of day when the rest of the world is still asleep and everything is calm is such a powerful experience. I wish I'd actually just put the camera down for a moment to take it in more.
I feel as though I've been doing that a lot this year, grabbing for my camera and completely forgetting where exactly I am and why I want to take a photo in the first place. I find myself enjoying places more via my photos than the actual, tangible setting. Note to self...
So our first activity of the day was the local Farmer's Market in town, where vendors sold local oddities but nothing too extraordinary. I did get sucked in to buying a purse for a fairly cheap price. Other than that, nothing too exciting so we moved on to the beach where we splashed about a bit, frolicked, then left. Nothing too exciting that day until the afternoon.
The post lunch part of the itinerary began with Maori stick fighting. We began with a warm up of ten suicides of back and forths in decreasing order from 10. Does that make sense? The first suicide included ten runs to the opposite side of the lawn and backpedaling back, and the next repetition included nine back and forths...Repetitions of either ten sit ups or ten push ups (yea right, me? Upper body strength?) were alternated between the suicides. The exercise was actually really welcome except for the sun and the fact that I had just eaten quite a large lunch.
On to the fun stuff: We got our stick's and I can't remember what the Maori term for them was or what the actual art of fighting was but I was puuuuumped. Our teacher was some 5th level -out of seven, and there are only 12 people at the 7th level in the country- champion who was intense. His intensity was probably compounded by the fact that his first language was Maori and he struggled a bit with English so he'd just kind of show you moves and expect you to get them by example. No worries for me. Then it came time to fight each other and Karlee and I were paired against each other. If you don't know Karlee, she is my 6'1 roommate for next year and the two of us tall blondies were made to enter the ring of onlookers and fight. The blocks, and attacks for that matter, that we'd just learned went out the window and we found ourselves saying "Okay, I'm going to hit you hear now! Find a way to block it!" The fight must have looked pretty lame because we were more concerned about not hurting each other, than getting the moves right. That went on for about two minutes....exciting stuff, lemme tell ya.
After stick fighting, I was able to take out my aggression whilst kayaking. We played a few games, paddled around a small reef, then turned back toward shore, but not before a rousing game of Cowboys and Indians. Red paddles vs. White and Yellow. Seeing as I was hot from the 10 suicides and had not successfully taken out my pent up aggression on my future roommate for fear of upsetting rooming relations for next year, I found myself diving from my kayak, onto the vessels of others, sliding across their laps, and landing in the water, taking my opponent and their kayak with me. I think I need to get back into contact sports. I really don't have a good enough outlet for this aggressive streak. I was reminded of the drawbacks of these sports though, when a huge black and blue contusion (sp?) appeared on my left thigh the next morning. When I got back to my hall, my floor mates were asking "Oh my gosh! What happened!?" "Maori stick fighting," I said.
That night: Dinner, reading, volleyball, bar and planning of the South Island trip with one of our guides from a South Island town.
On our third and final day, we were able to get our itinerary changed and two guides took us snorkeling at a local marine reserve. We saw some huge snapper and two other kinds of smaller fish, the names of which escape me. It was a neat thing to do, although I do not think I'm made for snorkeling. I don't know if it's my lung capacity or what, but I just never do well with snorkels. I'd also had flu like symptoms for over a week at this point, so, ya know, maybe that had something to do with it. Either way, I was absolutely exhausted by that point and luckily the next activity was perfect. We were driven to perhaps the most beautiful beach I've ever been to. I promptly spread out my towel, laid down, and slept.
Later: Closing ceremonies and 'thank yous,' a visit to a Kauri tree, and back to Auckland.
In other news, I went to the health center today to try to clear up this illness issue. We have student health insurance here apparently, on top of a socialist health system and you know what that means......FREE MEDS! I am a firm believer in socialized medicare. Mmm mmm good. Although I've found that medication here in NZ is a lot less powerful that French medicine and I think I'd still prefer to get sick in France, should I choose one country in particular in which to come down with something, or develop something in the case of my abscess. That's enough.
What else? I went to watch my friend here get a tattoo of the New Zealand silver fern on his foot on Friday. Yikes! Looked painful, but it came out really cool. The place seemed a bit dodgy and they didn't bandage his foot afterward or clean it much. Then again, he didn't take these precautions himself, so I guess we'll see how it heals! Got my wheels spinning, though.
So I suppose I'm beginning to use this as a procrastination tool. I better get to work, however, because I'm leaving for a two weeks in the South Island in about 48 hrs. I don't really know what's going on in my life, things are happening so fast.

CanyoNZ

On a beautifully bright New Zealand day, 12 Loyola students packed into two ten-seater vans- one of which was Death Trap from the Coromandel- and journeyed off into the Waitakere Range to test their mortality.

Our kidnap..., I mean, guides drove us up, up, up into the forest and finally told us to get out of the vehicles at an undisclosed, remote location. One of the guides opened a shed to reveal racks of wetsuits and shoes, helmets and harnesses. We were instructed to grab all the necessary equipment and then get back in the vans to be driven to another undisclosed location. Once at this second location, we were lined up and made to trek a half hour's walk into the middle of nowhere. Finally, after much panting, we stopped at a mountain stream and put on all of our equipment. Then, our guides forced us to jump into the water, and sumberge ourselves completely. Only then would they consider letting us go free. I was the first to jump and as my head dipped beneath the surface of the water, I felt the chill of the liquid run all through my wet suit. Wide-eyed and a little breathless, I surfaced again to meet the gaze of our smiling guides who said "Congratulations, you're initiated!"

My friends and I jumped, slid, and rapelled, one by one from pool to pool, making our way down this unsuspecting river in the middle of the North Island wilderness. Some jumps were free jumps and we were allowed to enter the pool however we wished. Others had to be executed just right, or else there would be consequences. When we came to slides, we'd lay down, head first or feet first, and swoosh down a naturally formed water chute. Rapelling was perhaps the most exciting part of the day, however.

With no one at the bottom of the first high waterfall, our guide called out my name because she knew that I'd been able to tie my ropes correctly and that I'd had experience rapelling before. I was first and I was to go down with no belayer below. So she strapped me in and down I climbed to belay for the rest of the group! I'd done this sort of thing in gyms before on man-made rock walls but being in the outdoors and rapelling with water crashing on your helmet is a different experience entirely. It is so fun!

We stopped for a bit of a lunch beside a pool that was home to two fresh water eels. I wasn't sure how I felt about knowing that there were creatures like this in the deeper pools into which we'd been jumping, but I preferred not to think about it...

I was able to have a great conversation with the our guide Connie from Chile as well. She'd gone to school for Eco-tourism and Adventure Tourism management, which I thought was the coolest thing, and it got my wheels spinning about grad school. What if I moved down to Chile, just picked up Spanish as I went along with my classes learning how to do all sorts of great adventurous things in order to make a living!?!?!

After a long day, we were driven back to Auckland and we quickly found ourselves in Father Ted's pub with some good hearty food and live music. Who could ask for anything more?

For the past few days I've been puttering around Auckland, and I've noticed some random things, some of which I guess are signs that I'm settling into life Down Under. The first was that I called cookies "biscuits" today without even thinking about what I was going to say. That surprised me, but not the boy I was talking to because he's from England. So I had no one to share my matriculation in NZ with. Secondly, speaking of biscuits- and this is a shout out to Christie- I was walking through the convenience store today and I was in the cookie isle and I saw them. Sitting there in all their glory were the chocolate covered HobNobs that Christie and I lived off of during our drives to and from Scotland 4 very long years ago. As soon as I saw them I thought, "uh-oh," but as I sit here now eating the buttery digestive, I feel nothing but bliss, which I'm sure I'll pay for later, but for right now I'm perfectly content.

Another thing I'm getting used to is which way to look when crossing the street. I may also just be paying more attention to the traffic lines painted on the ground. Whichever.

My hindsight is starting to kick in, too. I have this awful habit of being so wrapped up in traveling and the differences I encounter while traveling that I forget to simply enjoy where I am and I have to wait until I've been away from a certain place for a few months in order to fully appreciate it. So it's getting to be that time when the weather gets cooler and the leaves begin to turn and I think to myself, "I just experienced autumn not so long ago, only I was in France." I miss things like being able to sit outside at cafes, the chime of the tram when it is about to stop at St. Eloi, and the freshly baked baguettes. I miss the friends I made when I was in Europe and I miss the culture and history I was able to discover with them in so many different places.

Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love New Zealand and I think I am able to love it more at the present because I can pick out the things that are different about this country that I appreciate and that I know I will miss in hindsight when I am back in the U.S. France and New Zealand are just so completely different though. People ask me which I like better and I tell them that there is absolutely no comparing them. They are just at opposite ends of the spectrum.

While Europe has been inhabited for thousands and thousands of years, New Zealand has only known civilization for less than one thousand years and was only colonized less than 300 years ago. It is such a young country that is celebrated for it's natural wonders and breathtaking scenery. Europe has the art, the architecture, and the tradition. I think it is such a neat thing to compare these two places and see what from Europe has made it's way down here to the Southern Hemisphere and, for that matter, what is unique to thise region in terms of landscape and Maori culture. I think about France being the seat of higher thought and the avant-garde approach to government while I live among people who belong to a thriving indigenous culture that is protected and maintained so well here. It's just too cool for words.

Hiking the Tongariro Crossing

On March 13th, I rented a car from a guy named Frank who constantly referred to me as "Madam." He runs a small rental car agency outside of Auckland and agreed to let 18-20 year olds rent cars, as long as it was clear that in the event of an accident, we'd pay 3,000 NZD. Not sure if you were meant to know that or not, Mom and Dad...
Anyway, I picked up a nice red automatic (!!!) four door from Frank's place and started south for Tongariro National Park two hours before rush hour traffic was even toying with the notion of making life a living hell for novice standard users. Take that.
I made it to The Crossing Backpackers at about 8pm, ate some dinner with my travel mate, and nestled into my mummy bag early in anticipation of our 6:45 bus to the trail head. At first, I thought I might have learned to deal with mummy bags. Thinking back to this past summer's expeditions in Seattle, my mummy bag and I had a rough start together. Sleeping on Shi Shi Beach one night, I awoke in a pool of sweat that my "zero-below" bag had caused. I went to unzip the zipper, which was all the way above my shoulder, but it suddenly got stuck somewhere around shoulder-level. And, being a mummy bag, the space was too confined for me to lift my other arm and somehow free myself from what had suddenly become a straight jacket. After 5 minutes of desperate fighting, I forced my other arm up to where the zipper had caught itself, took each side of the zipper, and ripped until I'd unzipped my sleeping bag down to the knee region. Cool air suddenly hit my chest and I felt as though I'd gotten a breath of fresh air after having endured Chinese water torture for hours. After that I had a lot of contempt for this thing.
So having reunited with mummy bag for round two in New Zealand, I zipped the zipper to about my waist- for I dare not zip any further- and tried to fall asleep. Well, the cool room started to get reeeeaaallly warm all of a sudden... so I unzipped further. Then I need to turn over, but when I did so I got all caught up in the inside lining. But I couldnt right the lining because...its a mummy bag. It's impossible to maneuver your feet in those things. So after tossing and turning for about 2 hours, I just layed the bag over myself and found that to be the only solution to this mummy bag saga. I didn't do that in the first place, Dad, because I would've been sleeping on a bare hostel mattress....yes, I anticipated your response.
Well 6:15 came, I popped up, boarded a bus and began the 18.5 km trek by 7:45 a.m. I was surprised with myself, seeing as Aly and I usually make it a habit of hitting the snooze button until about 10 a.m., throwing on some sort outfit, and wandering to the trail by 11 a.m., only to hit the summit just as the bad weather rolls in. Al, I'm feeling ambitious for this next summer... this whole getting up earlier thing is really beneficial for not having to run up the mountain in order to have daylight for the trek down.
I hiked at a pretty good pace for about 4 km, but suddenly at kilometer 5 it was as if someone had just yanked the terrain up with a string to a 45 degree angle. I felt as though I was climbing straight up and thought my heart would pound out of my chest. That continued for a whole kilometer, at the end of which, we'd reached the base of Mt. Ngaruahoe a.k.a. Mt. Doom for all the Lord of the Rings buffs. From there we had a nice kilometer or two to traverse a flat crater, then straight up a bit more to reach Red Crater, a volcanic black and bright red hole that had thermal vents seeping from it's rock walls.
After a lunch of pepper cheese and chicken sandwiches, We continued up a bit more to a breathtaking vantage point from where one could see for miles around in a 360 degree radius. The trail from there continued to three sulfurous mountain lakes, known as the Emerald Lakes. They looked a lot prettier than they smelled, I have to say. But they were bright turquoise and an incredible contrast from the Red Crater that sits beside it.
Another traversing of a flat crater, a walk by Blue Lake, a downhill stint for about 8 km past thermal vents in fields of New Zealand bush and I was done! We ended just in time to catch the 2:30 bus back to our hostel and book it back to Auckland that night in order for my hiking partner to get back for an appointment.
Since Tongariro, I've ventured across Auckland's bay to the quaint town of Devonport. I also celebrated an eventful St. Patrick's Day at Auckland's finest pubs- after attending all of my classes that day! Last night, my friends and I also brought a blanket out to the Domain and just sat and talked for a very long time, which doesn't sound like much but our conversations get pretty hilarious. I think a few topics were Dracula, our dogs, annnnd kebabs. So that was enjoyable. This Sunday I will be going canyoning and bringing a camera on this one would probably be a terrible idea, but I'll be sure to let you know the outcome, if I survive jumping, repelling, and sliding down waterfalls...

You need to see these!

Karlee, Tyler, Lauren, Courtney and I spent the past weekend in the gorgeous Coromandel Peninsula, whose landscape is some of the most dramatic and awe-inspiring I've ever seen (See picture link above). The weekend was not without it's challenges, however. Let me explain...

...And let me begin by saying, Mom and Dad, it's a good thing you didn't know what I was up to this weekend. On Friday, we picked up our rental car, which was supposed to be a 10-seater automatic van. Instead, we were given an eight-seater jalopy that was- DUN DUN DUN- stickshift. Only I and Courtney had the experience to drive this car, and as my mom will tell you, I don't drive the stickshift in NJ during rush hour traffic, when I know I'll be going up hills, or when I have a long way to go.

So we start out on the left side of the road, get onto the highway, and immediately hit stop-and-go rush hour traffic heading uphill within the first 5 minutes of a 2 1/2 hr. drive. The stop-and-go lasted a good 45 minutes until we got out of the Auckland area. About an hour and a half later, the road changed from smooth country route to winding, near death twists and turns along a raceway that dropped off into the ocean on the left and was a crumbling rocky mess on the right. This eventually turned away from the coastline and began to climb up, up, up into the countryside in a series of hairpin turns. When we FINALLY got to our hotel, I shifted to what I thought was third gear, but it was first, we made a scene in the parking lot, screamed a bit, and finally fell out of the car, happy to be on terra firma again. BUT! I did not once stall out during the drive, I made it safely to our destination, and I now think I feel more safe driving myself around England than I do having you drive, Dad.

After a nice, beer-induced sleep (it was necessary and there was no over-indulging-I promise) we got up the next morning and I forced Courtney to drive to Hot Water Beach. She quickly got the hang of it because she'd regularly driven manual for a while and I was elated to have another driver. The drive was amazing and truly showed all the best New Zealand had to offer. Rolling, green sheep pastures and lush tropical forests lined the route. We also had good weather, which was a pleasant surprise entering into New Zealand's rainy fall season.

Hot Water Beach, so named because of the thermal springs that bubble up beneath the sand, was one of the coolest things I believe I've experienced. At certain points, the sand is so hot, that it boils up to the surface and you cannot even stand on it. We rented spades and dug a hole right near the hottest water just as the tide began to come in. This was opportune because the hot water mixed with the cool sea water and created a natural spa at just the right temperature. So cool!

After Hot Water Beach we trekked to another beach with views of the islands dotting the coastline. The chain extended far out into the sea. Imagine vibrant emerald domes popping up out of the water sporadically for miles. It's so amazing what this Earth can produce!

Cathedral Cove was our next stop. That included a 40 minute hike down to the cove itself with stunning views toward the inland and the sea. Once we reached the beach, we were met by an enormous cave that had been hollowed out of the rock by years of crashing waves. A very impressive sight. We sat on the beach for a while, looking out at various rock formations jutting from beneath the turquoise water. You can look at my pictures to see what I'm talking about, although I don't know if any photos could ever do the entire Coromandel justice.

On our final day in the Coromandel, we stopped by a place called Water Works, which I was less than thrilled about visiting, but it turned out to be a quirky, fun place with very unique activities. Someone bought a few hectares in the middle of nowhere, started tinkering, and built tons of water spouts and things out of scrap metal, tubes, and other stuff. Weird, but we had a lot of fun and a nice ride home after- with Courtney driving.

O Week in Auckland

This past week, many orientation activities were planned for both Huia, our "residense" hall, and the international students. I suppose the first event of note was a great concert in the park given just a few feet from our dorms. This was actually sponsored by the Skytower in town and it featured the Starlight Symphony as well as other well-known artists from this region of the world. We listened to an impressive cover of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody whilst watching the laser light show that played out overhead. Also, if you have not yet heard Brooke Fraser's music, get it. I'm obsessed. She sounds like a folk-ier (is that a word?) Celine Dion.
Well that was just a great night. I'm so happy to have the Auckland Domain so close by because there was no room to stretch out on a patch of grass in France. Here I have multiple rugby fields all to myself! I was able to get up there the other night and watch about 10 cricket games going on at once. Neat experience, although I'm still not sure I understand the game...
Monday night brought us to the first theme party of the week. Jungle Night down at the Viaduct- Auckland's version of the Baltimore Inner Harbor (or Fell's). We hit the many thrift stores that are conveniently located nearby, found some fatigues and whatnot, and went out!
I believe Tuesday was pretty mellow, and with no real plans, Carin, Tyler and I found ourselves wandering the Auckland Museum, which is at the other end of the Domain. A museum inside a huge park? HEAVEN!
One exhibit, which particularly caught my attention, was the volcano zone. Apparently Auckland is built over three different volcanoes, all dormant, the last one having erupted merely 600 years ago! Yikes! A video took us through an explosion scenario that was realistic and a bit frightening, but don't worry, Dad, I have my bug net to protect against the volcanic ash.
I learned that volcanoes are formed at weak points in the mantle's crust and that the subduction of two plates- usually an underwater plate moving below a land plate- creates the friction that heats up and wants to get out. Hence, volcano. New Zealand's North Island is caused by the subduction of the Pacific Plate moving beneath the Australian Plate and the bottom of the South Island is caused by the Australian Plate moving beneath the Pacific Plate. I could have those two mixed up, but either way, there is way too much geothermal activity going on down here. Apparently the North Island's Lake Taupo is actually a caldera that was formed when the Taupo area exploded over 20,000 years ago (I think?) in what is one of the 10 worst volcanic eruptions in the history of the world. Crazy! So you have the volcanoes in the north, a good amount of subduction going on in the south, and the Southern Alps in the middle, being pushed ever higher by the two plates grinding against each other. Three centimeters a year I may have read? I'm very wishy washy with facts- sorry about that.
Well, all this geothermal activitiy sparked my interest and I noted to my mom that being a geophysicist might be fun, to which she responded "What do they do?"
"Become lawyers..."
I can't quite remember in what exact order the week progressed, but we got to Mission Bay beach on one particular day, which was very nice. Only a 15 min. bus ride from downtown Auckland. On Wednesday night, theme party two found us at the International Student Association's "Dress like your nationality" party. Some of us copped out and donned the Daisy Dukes and cowgirl attire. It's easy... There were four very impressive Harlem Globe Trotters floating around, however.
On Saturday, the hall put on a cocktail party, had everyone dress up, and then led us to a bar where the drinks were $15 NZD. We said noooo thank you and met up with the rest of our group at the Skytower where we celebrated the 21st of our friend Tore from Loyola. Good choice.
Yesterday, Courtney, Tyler, Karlee, our two Californians Lauren and Alli, and myself trekked to Takapuna Beach, which is a great shore around the north side of Auckland Bay. After a few nice hours there, we continued on back to Mission Bay and their jazz festival, which featured many local bands, tons of great food, and a perfect environment in which to spend the last night before classes!
Courtney, Tyler, Karlee and I were walking back from the festivities last night, commenting about how great the day was when we heard a bunch of screaming. We figured it was some students out for their O weeks or whatnot, but as we were crossing a sidestreet on our way back, I looked to my left and saw a woman lying in the road motionless. Moments before, I'd seen a pickup truck drive out of the road. We all whipped our phones out, only to realize that none of us knew the emergency number for NZ, so I flagged down a passing car, shoved my phone at the woman and told her to call the police.
Eventually the paramedics showed up (but man are they slow here) and the police followed suit- although they drove right past the street. Tired of waiting for them, I ran up to their car stopped at a red light and told them we'd been waiting for a good 20 minutes, to which the cop responded "Oh, is that where it's at?" in a less than enthused, monotonous tone.
We gave our account of what had happened and the woman came to. They said they don't think anything will come of it since she's a "street worker" but at least the whole thing was a good wake up call for us. As the cop said to us, "Auckland's not just greenery, aye?" Noted.
Well that was quite an eventful week. I have to go get ready for my first day of school now! English and Social Justice. Academia, here I come!