Sharks and Politicians

Two posts in one day? Unheard of!

I now have three weeks left here. I have mixed feelings about leaving. On the one hand, it'll be weird to say goodbye to so many friends, many of which I probably won't ever see again. I will also miss the scenery, the fresh air, the accent, and the general friendliness of the people here. On the other hand, I am very excited to go home. I've been feeling more and more of a draw to return home during the last week or so, and I think this feeling will increase as my days here decrease. I remember a scene in "Jaws" when Quint recalls the disaster of the U.S.S. Indianapolis. He said that the worst part of his five days stranded in shark-infested waters was the last few minutes that he spent waiting for helicopter to pick him up. I would hardly equate my beneficial time here to a horrible experience like Quint's, but I think I can relate to becoming more and more anxious for something to happen the closer it approaches. I'm looking forward to how different things will look to me after being here for 4.5 months. I already look at many situations differently in my head. This is certainly proof that I've grown as a person, although I'm not yet sure in what respects. I suppose I'll find out soon enough.

Two days ago I joined a friend of mine who was walking down to Parliament. He's a political science major and was going to watch a session. Watching the collection of New Zealand's representatives, I drew many comparisons between the U.S. House of Representatives and New Zealand's Parliament. It's certainly very similar in structure. There's a speaker who delegates the proceedings, and the individual "MPs" (Members of Parliament) do not speak directly to each other while questioning. The one major different that I noticed was the level of noise allowed in the chamber. Every time an MP got up to speak, they were heckled and degraded on all sides. I soon realized that this extreme opposition was mainly due to the high number of different parties represented in the room. Where the U.S. has two major parties, the New Zealand Parliament has seven parties present in the proceedings. I began to find it comical how immature and rude the MPs were to one another. I couldn't believe these were the leaders of a country. I know Congress can get a bit loud sometimes, but it was nothing like this. They literally screamed and heckled every single speaker, leading to a pointless escalation in volume until the Speaker finally stood up and called for order. There's no gavel, by the way. He just stands up. Sort of cool. After the call for order, the heckling started up again. John Key (The Prime Minster of New Zealand) was there as well, so I got to see him speak finally. It was a great experience, and it made me want to re-visit Congress again when I get back. 

One positive thing that I've noted about New Zealand is their treatment of their native population. The Maori are treated with immense respect here, and I don't think they realize how good they have it in relation to Native Americans or the Aboriginals of Australia. Maori language is an official language of New Zealand. Most signs have Maori and English translations on them. The heritage and culture of Maori life is ingrained into the culture here...every kiwi I know is privvy to a large number of Maori terms and words, along with traditional songs and tales. They teach them to children in grade school. The Maori also have their own TV station in their native language, and have several seats in Parliament, along with their own political party. Can you imagine so much opportunity and respect given to the Native Americans? We basically gave them some reservations and told them to talk amongst themselves. I didn't see the Maori MPs speak at all during my visit to Parliament session, but seeing their party represented in the government made me realize just how different the kiwis are to Americans in their treatment of their native population.

Last night I laid down some tunes with some friends of mine. We had access to an electric guitar/amp, a piano, a drum set, and an acoustic guitar. I mainly stuck to playing rhythm acoustic (my soloing skills aren't too fantastic), but I experimented a bit on the drum set after a while. I admit I wasn't exactly show-stopping material, but I feel like I'd get better with practice. My problem is the bass drum...the coordination sort of mirrors tapping your head and rubbing your stomach, especially when you're trying to play the pedal on an off beat. Anyone who's spent time around me knows that I'm a fan of tapping a beat on a table or my legs, so it was really cool to be able to finally channel my rhythms through a drum set. Yet another thing to check off the list of things I've learned here in New Zealand.

I'm now hoping to check out the south island for a week or so after exams. It'll leave me a few days to get my thing together before I leave. It'll probably end up being a bit rushed at the end, but it'll be worth it if I'm able to see the other half of the country; The only part of the south island I've seen is its snow-capped tips off in the distance viewed from Wellington. 

That's about all that's new for now. See you in three weeks.

Onward and Upward!

My free week has been very, very productive and eventful. The weather has been half beautiful and half downpour (in keeping with standard New Zealand weather procedures). On the rainy days, I have been learning the wonderful board game of Risk from my kiwi neighbors. I consider this extremely productive and unfathomably beneficial. However, I've also been fully taking advantage of the nice weather by exploring outer reaches of Wellington. There are uncountable tracks, forests and rolling green mountains surrounding the greater Wellington region, and the last couple of days have consisted of nonstop exploration. On the 19th, some friends of mine and spontaneously decided to scale a mountain that we saw in the distance from Oriental Bay, the Harbor of Wellington. 

We chose a random staircase going upward, and basically followed the logic that anything going upwards was a step in the right direction. This method proved to be foolproof, as we found ourselves on top of the mountain several hours later. Being on top afforded a view of the suburbs outlying Wellington from the otherside of the harbor, along with yet another unique perspective of the city itself. 

From this height, Mount Victoria itself (a frequent object of mountain scaling) seemed to be small and insignificant. I considered myself high and mighty, and remarked that I couldn't get much higher than this. I'd say this trip consisted of about five kilometers. It was a decent challenge, not too straining, but enough to make me feel alive and active. 

I really enjoy tramping...it allows me an opportunity to get out of the city region and see more nature. I've decided that I really don't like living in a city. It's too claustrophobic and man-made. Although Wellington has more fresh air than probably any other city in the world, it's impossible to filter out the sound of public bus systems, cigarette butts and honking horns. This, I am sure, is the same for any city in the world. I enjoy suburbs and quiet communities. My explorations around the suburbs have therefore provided me with some very peaceful and contended moments (even when the mountain wind literally moves my body with its force).

My tramp on the 21st was much more substantial and epic, constituting 15 kilometers in 5 hours. I woke up around 7 (this is very early for me, by the way..I'm a 9-9:30 guy), and jumped on a bus with some friends. As the sun rose, we walked through a quiet suburb and ascended the nearby mountain chain. This chain consists of the tallest mountains surrounding Wellington City, and is known as the Skyline Track. 

Leaving the streets and entering the mountainside

It was incredible...the view from the right was of the ocean and the very distant but startlingly clear snowcapped South Island, and the view from the left was Wellington Harbor, seen even higher than ever before. I was amused to glance upon the mountaintop from a few days previous...it was as small as Mt. Victoria once looked from that very summit. This made me consider the relativity of things and how we judge things according to our position and size. Perspective is important. I also don't think there's ever a point where you should stop and consider yourself "done" having scaled as high as you can go in tramping or in life. Always onward and upward.

We stopped for lunch at what appeared to be "the summit"...a lookout which afforded a beautiful view of the entirety of Wellington. The lookout structure contained a stone table which provided the direction and distance to major nearby landmarks in kilometers (Antarctica, Mt. Cook, Sydney, Invercargill, etc.) This was really impressive and the weary traveler feel as if they had conquered something massive. However, I soon learned that we were not yet 25 percent done. Turns out 15 kilometers is, in fact, a very long distance indeed.

The trek was long, hard, and epicly windy. However, I can say with confidence that I had a great time and a great experience. At certain heights I felt myself being almost pushed over int othe abyss. The wind is so powerful that it rips through your nostrils and forces its way through your nasal passages. It feels like there's some sort of liquid in there, but it's just very potent wind.

Highlights of the trip include: two very cool old men who wandered the mountainside with walking sticks and beards, 

a stretch of half a kilometer of track consisting of nothing but pure mud, wind turbine farms speckled over the mountainside,

a random brick chimney in the midst of a wooded area, 

impressive piles of cow poop that were larger than a small human (I did not take pictures of these), and the Cow version of Gandalf the Grey. Let me explain.

On several occasions, we came across a minor cow barricade. These cows usually dispersed at the first sight of humans, and nobody was the wiser. About halfway through our long journey through the mountains, we turned a corner and found ourselves directly in the path of two solitary cows. They weren't eating or looking off into the distance. They stood very still and stared right at us. We all stood still for a moment or two. If the fields of New Zealand had  tumbleweeds, one would've blown by in the middle of the frame.

 

Tom slowly got some grass and offered it to the cow. It was a simple peace offering meant to request safe passage. Grass giving, it would seem, carries a different meaning in cow language. The cow jerked his head and began to literally charge us. All seven of us displayed near superhuman reflexes by hurtling ourselves onto the side of the cliff walls, climbing up out of range of the cow. It was clearly a priority that no non-cow entity pass through this point. The two cows continued to stare up at us from an uncomfortably close proximity. After a few minutes, the cow realized that we were not coming down. We proceeded to scream scary sounds at it simultaneously until we scared it enough to run off into the distance. This has been a true story. New Zealand cows hold their passageways sacred.

The 15 km track proved to be a quite a feat, and the wind was so strong at points that we had to literally lean against it to prevent tipping over the other side. The scenery changed from rolling green fields, blue ocean, murky forests and wind turbine farms. One of these turbines powers 1000 homes. I had no idea they were that economical. Overall, it was a fantastic experience. It was also a huge challenge, and the nap that I took afterward is in contention to be in the top 5 of all time. 

Here's a link to the album of photos I took. Give them a gander, they're quite nice if I do say so myself.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2024540&id=1487820100&l=08efde5b8e