notes from the road

as in the # of hits my site is getting each month. not bc my travels are oh so interesting (they are).  but because of bed bugs.

SO SCROLL DOWN TO THE MIDDLE OF THE PAGE TO SEE THE SCARY PICTURE OF WHEN BED BUGS ATTACKED ME.

and if you’re bored at home with no friends, working and feel like being a slacker, or simply love good writing and a decent story, read on friend.

One last entry.

I made it home. And being home is so very, very ordinary. I feel like I never left – like 5 whole months of my life didn’t take place. That kind of makes me sad. A lot actually.

Getting back into the swing of things is a little overwhelming. Getting a car, a job, life direction. Bleck.

But I’m trying to focus on the good; one thing I’ve learned is I have a strong tendency to think the grass is always greener on the other side… of the world. Sure, life in the US has a lot more responsibility and stress – but I also have all my friends and family, my church, the ability to get a job that doesn’t require one to pick fruit, scrub toilets, or carry coffee : )

I’m not quite sure if my decision to come back was emotional or God’s leading, irrational or logical, something I’ll regret or embrace.

Being home is giving me the opportunity to look into missions, and that excites me.

I’m so glad for the experiences I’ve had these past 5 months and the friends that I made.

I LOVED my time in New Zealand.

It was definitely a trip of a lifetime.

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Over the bridge and through the woods, to the North Island I go.
Left my ice-cream pal behind in Picton and hopped on a bus to Nelson where I was greeted by an “I love Dana” sign and my favorite Scot (Louise).  Went to the outdoor market in Nelson, where I resolved that if I can’t eat it or read it, I’m not buying it.  So I bought a used book – The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, and ate a lot of sushi.  (Since there are so many Asians in NZ, there are so many sushi restaurants and stands.  MMMMMM.)  Got picked up by a cute German (Edgar) and made a stopover in Motueka for a few days to celebrate his 23rd birthday, and now after a few more bus rides and a ferry ride, I’ll arrive in the capital of NZ on the North Island.  A little city by the name of Wellington.

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I used the “n” word in the presence of Germans.  No, not that one.  Nazi.  To be more specific, I actually called a German a Nazi.  Um, oops.  OK, so it was just a “food Nazi”, but still.  It slipped out.

Edgar had just picked me and Louis up in nelson so we could spend the weekend with him.  The van ride over he’s diving in the front and some duetch chick is riding shot gun.  A conversation about cooking ensues.  And then the slip up.  Silence.  Louis and I look at eachother like “oh crap.”  More silence.  But I mean, the guy lectured me on how to peel a carrot.  And “food Nazi” has a better flow then “anal retentative food fellow.”

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Ferry = ship of death – I was so sea sick I wanted to puke my guts out.  3 hours of nauseating bliss.  At least it was pitch black night when I went, so I could admire all the beautiful landscapes…
Louise and I bought some $2 speakers to plug into an i-plog.  That’s some quality sound, let me tell ya.  We could almost hear the music as we sat on a bench on the observation deck of the ship, watching the lights of Picton fade from site and eating some stale roles that we bought for 50 cents on the boat from hell.
I must admit, leaving the South Island tugged at my heart strings a bit.  It’s been my
home the past 5 months (holy crap – I’ve been gone 5 months!!!!!!).

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Cities in NZ are shite (is it still cussing if it’s in another language?  OK, I know it is… but I think the word sounds cool.  so F’ it.  The cities (Christchurch, Auckland, and Wellington) are pretty small with absolutely nothing extra special or interesting about them.  Architecture is nothing to write home about, museums are boring, shops are so-so, and there are a million cafes that all serve the exact same thing.  Same drinks, same cakes, same muffins.  It’s weird.
I was planning on looking for work in Wellington, but after 10 min of hard job searching, I decided I’d rather work in the NZ countryside.  Bay of Plenty – kiwi land, on the east coast of the North Island.  A place where kiwi picking and packing jobs are supposed to be a plenty.

The sad thing about my Wellington work plans going to shite (last time – I promise), is that I was supposed to meet up with Carolina next week to have one last hoorah and with Edgar in a month to take a road trip up to Auckland.  So I guess the last time I said goodbye to them was the last time I’ll ever say goodbye to them.  Tear :/

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Ummm.  So I’ve been writing this last blog in bits and pieces over the course of a few days.

An interesting turn of events.
I got off the bus in Te Puke in the Bay of Plenty (seriously, who names their town after vomit?), looked around, and decided it wasn’t where I wanted to be.
So I bought a plane ticket home a few hours later, hopped on a bus to Auckland (I have logged so many hours on buses the past week it’s ridiculous) and I’ll be home Monday night.  Yeah.  Haha.

I think I get a thrill out of impulse decisions or something.

I did say a quick prayer and decided if the plane tickets weren’t insane, I’d take it as a sign.  After the ticket eats up the remaining funds in my bank account, I’m pretty much at a nice solid zero.  Which isn’t too awful bad for not working 5 months I suppose.  I really did plan on working, it just kinda never happened.

While the decision to come home was spontaneous as combustion, much thought has gone into where I want to be and what I want to accomplish throughout the length of the trip.  And part of me is torn.  But the rest of the world isn’t going anywhere.  I mean, who knows how long the Middle East will exist, but the rest of it should be golden.  I might still travel later.  I really do want to see South East Asia.  Maybe I’ll go on a mission trip or study abroad.  But for now, I want to be home for a bit.  No clue what I’ll do, or how long I’ll stay.  I do know that I love Ohio and also that I don’t have a car – so if anyone knows of a good deal or a car I can borrow for a few weeks – lmk : )

As for this amazing blog – I’m going to go back and edit and revise the crap out of it and see if I can make this jumbled mess into something publishable.  Here’s hoping.

And call me.  See me.  Shower me with your love and affection : )
My cell is still 933.9924 and I should have the line connected in a week or so.

Thanks for reading!  Super a lot.

I wasn’t even supposed to get Pete at first. I probably should have had a Bobby or a Mitchell. I paid for a Bobby or a Mitchell, never dreaming that I could have a Pete – way out of my league. But I was just real smiley with the dealer and crossed my fingers and then Pete rolled along. And I fell in love.

Ya know, I started this whole personification thing and now I can’t think of a smooth transition to let you know that Pete is a car. Guess what???? Pete is a car.

I’m a witty one, aren’t I? HA.

Carolina and I were planning a short road trip and made some cd’s that we could listen to (err, sing really loud to – pathetic girl songs like “Always Be My Baby” by Mariah Carey and “No One” by Alicia Keys) as we drove.

Then the rental agency picks us up in a cheapo Toyota (aka Bobby), because that’s all we could afford. But Bobby didn’t have a cd player.

“Aww shucks Mr. Car Rental Guy, it’s a real shame that we made all these cd’s and won’t be able to listen to them.” (batting eyelashes, twirling hair)

Enter Pete. Subaru station-wagon, 4 wheel drive, 6 disc cd player, all the bells and whistles Pete. For the price of Bobby.

Nice.

So I hit the road with no cares or concerns – just a German, a football, and some chocolate bars as big as your head. What more could a girl ask for? Although, the chocolate bars made Carolina and I feel like self-indulgent fatsos, so we proceeded to do 25 jumping jacks anytime we had a pit stop.

We spent 2 days driving, stopping to play catch or go on short hikes, and taking in all the breathtaking scenery. It was a wicked good time and just to let you know – Carolina and I are now getting along swimmingly. Really well. Finish each other’s sentences, know what the other person is thinking from a look, laughing our heads off well.

And now we’re back in Picton. Which is nice. It’s kinda sad being here without the crazy German boys, who are back in Germany, but it feels a little like home nonetheless. I’m wofing at the Sequoia Lodge this week (where I wofed the first time I was here back in February).

Out of the 20 weeks I’ve been in NZ, I’ve spent 6 of them in Picton.

Back in Christchurch.

OK, think back. Do you remember the couple of hitchhikers from California who I picked up and invited to go to the beach? And the girl and I got along really well because we had gone through the same crap life circumstances and I was able to share my faith with her? That was sometime around the end of January.

Carolina and I are staying with them in Christchurch. Isn’t that craziness? What a small country, what a small world, and what a neat experience. Adam and Amy (the hitchers) moved to Christchurch about 2 months ago and have an apartment, jobs, 2 cars, the whole 9 yards now.

We got in last night, and this is so cool, we went to a film contest at the cinema. It was a contest open to anyone from NZ and they were all given 48 hours to make a movie. Each group was given a different genre (mystery, musical, horror, comedy, etcetera), but all had to have a main character named Kerry who was a perfectionist, a brush as a prop, and include the line, “wait a minute.” And the movie couldn’t be a second over 7 minutes. The viewing was only supposed to be for those who participated in the competition, but Adam knew one of the groups and they snuck is in.
This was even better than me and Carolina’s normal Tuesday night movie ritual. Tuesday is cheap flick night – $9 instead of $14.

Today’s Wednesday. We plan on sticking around until Saturday morning.

The novelty has worn off.
Farmer Dave is a little weird, I’m tired of always being cold, and I’ve discovered that rustic = dirty.
Nonetheless, I’m here for 2 more days.

SUNDAY 18/5
7:20AM – my alarm goes off so I can open the shutters on the window to watch the sunrise from bed.
7:21 - turn off my alarm, turn over, and go back to bed.
9:20 – wake up, get up, get washed up, and eat breakfast, which is usually last night’s leftover dessert. (apple crumble, plum crumble, and today was carrot cake)
10:00 – read my bible a little.
10:20 – sit in the sun contemplating the purpose of life. No joke – it’s crazy how when you travel, you really do spend a lot of time thinking about such philosophical issues. I suppose it’s because you have so much time on your hands and you don’t have a lot of the things that one generally pours their time into, such as a job or a long “to do” list or many material belongings (not much fits in a suitcase). Even as a Christian, where you try to lead a life centered on loving God and loving others, it’s an interesting thing figuring out what this type of life looks like on a daily basis; how does one live with purpose 24/7?
11:00 – after figuring out the purpose of life, as well as a solution to end world hunger, poverty, and war, I take a walk around the farm with Carolina and 3 of the farm dogs.
12:00PM - sit-ups and a few other exercises, which serve as my lame attempt to stay in shape.
12:10 - eat some chocolate and an orange : )
12:30 – writing. Writing has become like breathing to me since I’ve been away. It’s essential. Since I’m not surrounded by my friends and family who I’d normally share the details of my life with- I need a way to express myself and process everything that I encounter and experience.
1:00 – lunch, which is leftover dinner. Today that means pizza.
1:30 - time to feed the cows. Carolina and I hop on the 4×4 and meet farmer Dave at the cow field. We herd the cows into the main field. All this really means is that we walk behind them and they mosey into the field. We then move the electric fence pegs allowing the cows 5 more feet of grazing space in the feeding field for the next day. Then Carolina drives the tractor while farmer Dave throws hay off the back and I trail along on the 4×4. I proceed to get stuck in a mud puddle and need the tractor to push me out. We all head back to the farm. The hardest part of the work day is avoiding all the heaps of cow crap.
2:00 – eat some more chocolate
2:10 - 25 more sit-ups
2:20 – reading again. I just finished Confessions of a Fallen Angel by Ronan O’Brian which was a very, very well written book; I highly recommend it. It’s about a boy who has a near death experience and then has premonitions when the people close to him are going to die. Today I’m starting A Long Way Down by Nick Hornby. It seems pretty funny. It’s about 4 people who meet when they all try and commit suicide from a building on New Year’s Eve. And I just realized I seem to have a death theme going here. Huh.
3:15 – baking cookies while dancing around the kitchen with Carolina to Justin Timberlake and Red Hot Chili Peppers.
3:45 - reading, writing, thinking, and to be honest – being bored out of my mind. I’ve had enough of quiet farm life. In the right company, this could be amazing, because I guess it’s always the people you’re with that enrich your life with joy and bliss.
Anyway, from this time onward, Carolina and I play a little game called chase the sun. It’s freezing after the mid day warmth sneaks away, and you’ll find either of us sitting wherever a little sliver of sunshine manages to touch down. As darkness creeps in starving out all warmth, we resort to standing by the wood-burning chimney and clutching onto rubber sack things that you fill with boiling hot water. I’m holding one of the rubber sack things right now in fact.
5:00 – trying to get my laptop charger plug to charge my laptop. The things you take for granted, like the simple ability to pug in your laptop and charge the battery. For me, this is now an ordeal where I consider hurling my laptop out the window at least twice before I give up.
6:20 – cooking dinner. Polish perogies (noodles stuffed with apples)
7:00 – eating dinner
7:45 – hot shower, which helps revive my frozen body
8:30 – in bed. Farmers don’t go to sleep early because they have so much work to do in the morning, it’s because they are bored. Carolina and I snuggle under about 10 blankets, do 25 sit-ups together in bed under the blankets, and then talk and giggle like school girls until we both drift off to sleep.

BTW: things with my travel buddy are going much better. We’ve kind of found our groove so to speak, acclimating ourselves to one another. This is good because we’re going to be together for another 2 weeks. If we want to go back to my pathetic ice-cream metaphor, you could say the acclimation process is kind of like taking those pills that allow you to eat dairy… gas x? imodium? Anyway, we’re both drugged up on those.

Remember the traveling with friends / ice-cream metaphor? It seems that I’m lactose intolerant.
Translation: my traveling buddy is driving me nuts. Yesterday when I was riding on the back of a 4×4 with her, I just might have stuck my tongue out at the back of her head. Hahaha.
A know-it-all 19 year old is no day at the park. And the thing is, she probably isn’t even that bad; but when you travel with someone, you better like them a lot a lot a lot. And even then, they’ll still drive you up a wall at points. Which means that when you’re traveling with someone who you’re not too awful crazy keen on, you will spend a few of your waking hours wanting to poke them in the eye and kick them in the head. “What do you mean you want to spend a day and a bunch of money to see some big freaking birds? Birds???” But even more stupid than the bird thing is the way she always corrects me, and not cause I’m doing something wrong, I’m just not doing it her way. Yes, I know how to measure carrots for carrot cake, make grilled cheese, read a map, shift a 4×4, and tie my shoe you lunatic. If I kill her and end up in a NZ prison, know that I love and miss you all very much. And send me some cigarettes to trade for favors.
; )

I can’t believe I complained about losing my memory card. The next day my whole laptop broke. I mean, really, what the flipping heck? And as I was riding the bus from Dunedin to Timaru, where I am now, I was mentally constructing my next blog, sans the ability to type it out, while listening to my i-pod and wouldn’t you know it my i-pod froze. No worries though, because I have the code to unfreeze the son of a gun in my laptop…. err, wait. Well at least after the battery dies, it will usually work when I recharge it… on my laptop… huh…

Add on to this that the past few weeks I have had pretty much no opportunities to call home. Meaning it seems that God was maybe kind of trying to isolate me all alone on the other side of the world :/ (Don’t forget about me guys!!!)

OK, so obviously you are reading this article right now which means that 1. I bit the bullet and bought a new memory card, and 2. my laptop is fixed. The guy at the computer store said I might need a new mother board. HA. Try some tape. Yep, I have indeed taped my laptop together and presto, good as new… kinda.

So now the good stuff, because believe me, the past few days have been WICKED cool. I’m living in a sheep shearing shed! This is sooooooooooooooooo stinking amazing. It’s pretty much a big metal shed with a kitchen, living room, 2 bedrooms, a bathroom, and a room for shearing sheep. The doors and “windows” (cut out squares in the shed that you close at night with wooden shutters) are huge and open up to amazing views of the farm. I wake up as sunshine pours into my room through the window. I also pee in a makeshift toilet that you have to use a small hose to “flush”. You cannot get more rustic than this. I cooked meat in a pan over a wood burning chimney that keeps the shed warm on chilly nights.

The “WOFing” that I did at hostels before is honestly a lame excuse for WOFing (albeit a fabulous way to save money). To refresh your memory – WOF stands for working on farms. The practice is worldwide (yep, even in the states ladies and gentleman) and you work on a farm for 2-3 hours a day in exchange for food and accommodation. Carolina and I are staying on a small farm with some cows, sheep, and a farmer named David. David manages to work for a grueling 2 hours a day (sarcasm), so the 3 of us together tend to put in a solid 20 minutes of work each day. Work means that we feed the cows hay from the back of a tractor. And drive around the farm on a 4×4, which I’m told we’ll get to herd sheep from in a few days. This is AMESOME. I get giddy in bed when I wake up because this is just so cool. If farmer David was just a little hotter and little younger – I might just trade in my US residency for a low key life on the farm because this feels a bit like heaven.

Let’s see. What have I been up to…

Booked a tour to take a boat into Milford Sound and go into an underwater observatory. It was a 5 hour drive to the sound and a 5 hour drive back. It was OK. Beautiful mountains, beautiful waterfalls, beautiful sea, free lunch buffet : ). I probably wouldn’t have spent $160NZ it cost to see this crap if Carolina didn’t really want to go. It is one of the most famous destinations in NZid, so I suppose it’s good that I went.

Louise – the Scottish gal that is going to end up a crazy old lady all alone with her cats just like me and who I absolutely love – was in Queenstown and tracked me down. Seems some stupid Irish boy she met over here broke her heart. Actually, it seems that every girl I meet over here has had a fling and is now pining over some boy who is off gallivanting without a care in the world. I have learned that this is the way the world works: girls pine and boys gallivant. You know it’s true : ) Anyway, we consoled ourselves with $15 cheeseburgers, because if you’re going to be single forever, you might as well be fat too. Haha.
We made a plan for her to pick me up June 3rd and we’ll head off to Wellington, which is the capital. There we’ll get jobs, a flat…. and maybe a cat… or two ; )

I’m now in Dunedin, which is a pretty large city by New Zealand standards. Carolina worked in a café in Picton and 2 of her frequent customers have a house here which they so kindly opened up to us. Pretty crazy considering we are practically complete strangers. It’s a couple in their 60’s and I feel like I’m at an aunt and uncle’s house or something. They make us breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, tea /cookies AND they’ve washed and dried our laundry AND they let us use their internet and phone.
It’s nice to be in a home. It kind of makes me feel like I’m a part of the real word again.
So far in Dunedin we’ve been going tour crazy. Touring the architecture and historical buildings around the city, a chocolate factory, a beer brewery, an art museum, and a butterfly exhibit.

All in all, things are going well. I’m SUPER bummed that I lost my memory card. It’s how I write all my emails and all my blog articles… and they cost $60 flipping dollars over here and as you know, I’m poor as heck right now. UGH.

oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh.

That’s pretty much all I could say before I dove 134 meters from the 3rd highest bungee jump in the entire world. The jump is from a metal shack suspended by cables between 2 mountains and you have to take a gondola to get to it.
I almost didn’t do it. I wouldn’t let go of the instructor (who was freaking hot by the way.)
With my ankles bound, I wobbled out to the edge of the platform. Oh my gosh. And then they dropped the bungee cord down and I felt it tug at my ankles. Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. Looking out at this huge valley from such a great height, it hits you that you actually are jumping and falling. Falling a lot. And it’s not a ride where you just get strapped in and then you have no control. You actually jump. You physically throw yourself from solid ground into a free fall dooooooooooown into the depths of a valley. (Which I suppose is the definition of a bungee jump – jumping and falling – so this should not have come as surprise to me.) After 4 minutes of oh my goshing, with my stomach already in my throat, my heart beating a zillion times per second, and my whole body shaking, the hot instructor guy pried my hands from his wrist (he was standing behind me and I had both hands behind my back holding onto him) and spread my arms out as if they were wings – they weren’t. I was definitely going to be falling, not flying.
Hot Instructor Guy: are you OK?
Me: oh my gosh
Hot Instructor Guy: you need to find a focal point to look at straight ahead.
Me: oh my gosh
Hot Instructor Guy: just keep your eyes on your focal point.
Me: oh my gosh, oh my gosh
Hot Instructor Guy: I dare you to say oh my gosh again.
Me: …….
Hot Instructor Guy: alright, take a few deep breaths.
And I did.
And it was at that point that I knew I could do it. The key was just to not think about the fact that you were going to be jumping, ahem, plummeting at a speed of 80 miles per hour with an 8 second free fall from what felt like the top of the world toward the jagged rocks below.
He counted down. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1.
And I jumped.
(Oh my gosh.)
And I screamed.
And oddly enough, at one point I instinctively plugged my nose because any time I have ever jumped from anything remotely high, it has been into water. : )

This was undoubtedly the scariest thing I have ever done in my life. Ever.

Just wait till I get home and can show you the dvd.

Traveling is like ice-cream and friends are like hot fudge, so traveling with a friend is like a sundae of happiness. Hahahahaha.

Carolina got in today and we 1. bought $15 cheeseburgers the size of our heads, 2. walked around Queenstown for a few hours talking and working off our enormous cheeseburgers, and 3. came up with a travel plan in the comfort of our own private double room at the hostel… that means we stayed in a room without 4 other people in it. I don’t think you could understand exactly how amazing that is. In a room with 6-8 people in it, the odds of someone snoring are pretty high. The odds of someone going to bed at 8PM, so that anyone who comes into the room later has to stumble over 5 backpacks and a pair of sneakers in the dark to find their toothbrush, are pretty high. The odds of someone being annoying and asking how long you’ve been in NZ and where you’re from (questions I’ve learned to loathe) are pretty high. I know – they’re innocent questions and logical given the circumstances. But when you have the same freaking conversation 5x a day with people you will never see again and you really don’t care where they’re from and why they’re here – it gets annoying, trust me.

A double room.

This is going to be a good 3 weeks, I can feel it.

8AM

Another early morning and another long bus ride – 7 hours this time. And more rain. Winter here means rain. Which is exactly the weather one hopes for when they have to lug a huge suitcase around town. Or hike outdoors. Or really, leave the house/hostel at all. I love rain, but only when I’m not in it.

I’m a little nervous because I don’t have a place to stay lined up in Queenstown. I’m hoping that on my long bus journey I’ll get a text from a guy I want to couchsurf with. Cross your fingers for me. If not, it should be pretty easy to get a hostel because the afore said rain means it’s the slow season. I just don’t want to get caught wandering around Queenstown in a downpour with my suitcase looking for a place to rest my weary head.

6:30PM

Alright. So the scenery on the way down was breathtaking. Unfortunately, I didn’t manage to get any pictures; if you’re really curious, go rent Lord of the Rings : ). I also didn’t get a text about couchsurfing, and while I could get a bed at a hostel easily – the cheapest ones were already booked. That sounds like my luck. It did stop raining though.

Queenstown is gorgeous; a funky little ski town nestled among huge majestic looking mountains and beside a picturesque lake. It’s fall here and the trees are changing colors, the mountain peaks are covered with snow, yet it’s warm enough that a light pullover will keep you warm.

And it’s surprisingly busy. Which sucks because I’m so very sick of people. And small talk. And pretending to always be polite. And a lack of privacy. And people. Wait, I already said that…. Man, do I mean it though. So I’m relieved that Carolina is coming tomorrow and we can just hang out together and ignore everyone around us.

Sidenote:  So far I’ve been in 4 cities since I’ve gotten back to NZid, and I’ve run into a friend in each one.  Such a stinking small country…

number of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I ate today: 3.5 : )

I hear the west coast is beautiful. I wouldn’t know because I slept most of the 8 hours I’ve spent on buses the past 2 days. I did get a picture of the bus though. Haha.

Sleeping at the airport killed me.

Sunday we had a 4 hour flight from Rarotonga to Auckland, where we had a 12 hour layover before a 6AM flight to Nelson. Arrived in Nelson at 8AM and hopped on a bus at 11AM for a 6 hour ride to Greymouth, a city about halfway down the west coast of the south island. Got to Greymouth, did some laundry, got some groceries, started catching up on my blog, went to bed, and got on another bus at 6AM for a 2 hour ride to Franz Josef, where I went on a 2 hour glacier hike by myself. And tomorrow I have to catch a bus at 9AM to Queenstown where I’ll meet up with my German friend Carolina who I met in Picton. Then we’ll travel together for a few weeks.
That, my friend, is what we call a mouthful and a heck of a lot of traveling. Ugh.

So the glacier was very cool – no pun intended ; ) Wow – cheeeeeeeeeezy humor. The hike was easy and it wasn’t raining too horribly. It was a trek along the stone bed of the river that the glacier runoff flows down. You get to the start of the glacier, take a few pictures of a big chunk of ice, and then turn around and walk back the way you came.

me at the glacier

me and the glacier. haha. i know, i’m a dork.

Well, in life there are choices and there are consequences. I chose to travel instead of work and now I’m eating peanut butter and jelly for breakfast, lunch, and dinner : /

knowledge is power buddy
Rarotonga is the largest of the 15 Cook Islands. Total population is 12,000 people, with 9,000 living on Raro. There’s one main road that runs the circumference of the island – which is a whopping 50 miles. The island is mountainous and surrounded by a shallow lagoon, as the waves break on a sand bar in the distance. The water in the lagoon is so shallow that you can actually walk out to other islands – very, very cool.
People are friendly, chickens run free, watch out for falling coconuts, and please take your shoes off to go inside.

The hostel was right on the beach, with a huge deck for lounging around and a sand volleyball court which we took advantage of quite often.
The bad news was that if it wasn’t sunny out, there was no warm water. The good news was that we had amazing weather most of the time.
The other bad news was that while showering I saw a flying cockroach that was bigger than my harmonica. And there’s just no good news that can take that away.

Everyone at the hostel was staying for the better part of a week, allowing the 30 of us to become the best of beach buddies.
The only really crappy thing is that everyone partied themselves into a drunken frenzy each night, which just so isn’t my scene.

breakdown of activities homie
So how does one spend there time while in paradise? Here are some of things I did when not reading by the sea and eating fresh coconuts…
- Survivor. That’s right pal. The first group to catch and kill a chicken for dinner wins. Ha. JK. We did split into 2 groups, setting out to race around the entire island, one group starting clockwise and the other group starting counter-clockwise. First group back wins. Mode of transportation was hitchhiking. Tasks were taking pictures of certain landmarks. It ended up taking about 2 hours and was a super neat way to meet locals and see the island.
- Snorkeling. Amaaaazing. AMAZING. This was my favorite.
- When we weren’t hitchhiking to get around town or go the grocery store, we cruised around on scooters that we rented. My scooter buddy was a fellow by the name of Rodrigo, an aspiring musician born in Brazil and bred in the UK. Listening to him sing and play his acoustic guitar at local restaurants or under the stars on the beach was beyond fabulous.
- 2 nights we went out to the dance clubs in town and took a taxi van that is designed to fit 9 people. We had 28 people. Read that sentence again. 9. 28. A 30 minute ride to the club. Think about it.
- One night we went to a local dance competition. Dance, as in the tribal-I-have-no-idea-how-the-girls-move-their-hips-like-that-it-simply-can’t-be-natural-dancing.

So that was the Cook Islands. $1300NZ = a little bit of sand, sunshine, and snorkeling.

Um.
Bed bugs.
BED BUGS!
Bed bugs, bed bugs, bed bugs, BEEEEEEEED BUUUUUGGSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I mean, holy freaking crap, what else can you say.
Yuck.
Awfulness.
Eww, eww, eww.
EWW.
Yucky, yuck, yuck!!!!!!!
Bleck!!!

Here’s the story.
I had been staying in a pretty decent hostel on the outskirts of Auckland, right?
But since Edgar and Sebastian were flying in to catch our flight to Rarotonga, it was up to me to book us a hostel in the city close to the airport pick-up/drop-off.
And herein is where things went a little awry.
As it turned out, the hostel I booked was a wee bit on the sketchy side.
It’s only redeeming quality was an old elevator for which you had to pull the metal door shut and then the gate shut for it to go up or down (just like you always think of in NYC apartments), and when you opened the gate while in route, it stopped in-between floors (wink, wink if you catch my drift).
The rest of the place kind of reminded me of a crack house.
Ha.
Scary bedrooms, scary beds, scary sheets, scary kitchen, and scary lounge – all was scary.
So we stayed there 1 night and the next day while we are on the plane, I notice these absolutely horrific and insanely itchy bites all over my neck, with some on my back, arms, and face.
I mean, c’mon. You have got to be kidding me.
Well, I begin to freak out.
I’m pretty sure they’re bed bug bites and I know that those spread like lice. One of the hostels I stayed at actually had to get new carpet and mattresses in a room because of a bed bug problem. One girl who had bed bugs went sailing to a small island, infected the whole ship and the whole island.
Lice from hell.
Crap.
CRAP.
When I get to the island, I spend the $15 to have my laundry washed here ($15!?!?), but I’m scared to tell the hostel that I might have bed bugs – what if they kick me out? Where will I go? What will I do?
And since I’m just traveling with these “instant-travel friends”, I’m not so sure they’d stick with me through thick and thin.
So I suck it up, hope with all my heart that the bugs won’t spread, and ask Jesus to please, please have mercy on this poor little traveler.
And I guess he did.
No new bites, no more bugs, no more worries.
Phew.
Thank you Jesus.

Clarification of Sorts

I’ve spoken of “traveling” as if that’s not what I’m doing now. It’s odd, I know. When most people come to NZ, they set out to see certain sites in the South Island and in the North Island, ticking things off on a mental checklist until all major cities, national parks, glaciers, and mountains have been seen. This constant motion and visiting of set tourist destinations is what I’ve been referring to when I’ve mentioned “traveling” in prior writings. While most people will take time to work or wof (working in exchange for accommodation, etc.) in the midst of traveling, not many will spend 3 months in the same section of the country, not ever really working and going back to cities they’ve already been to. So, a lot of people will tease me about my traveling logic, or lack there of. Keep in mind though, when on a road trip out west in the states, I drove by Old Faithful and decided to forgo the 20 minute walk to see it, but the day before I drove an extra 2 hours to see a park with life-size ceramic dinosaurs. Haha. I guess that’s just how I roll. And while I started to get sucked into the need of seeing and doing everything here in NZ a few weeks back, I like my traveling style. I don’t need to see every waterfall, lake, tree, flower, or rock in NZ.

AUCKLAND

Biggest city in NZ – population 1.3 million (more people than on the whole South Island)

It’s just a normal city, nothing really special, and the 10 days that I’m spending here are more than enough. 1 day would have sufficed, but when booking my flight, 10 just sounded like a good number for an extended layover.

Ya know, I went almost 3 months without eating fast food and since I’ve been here I’ve had Burger King 3x. I don’t even like Burger King that much, and I really don’t like paying $8US for a value meal – crimony.

I’m staying at a hostel outside of town with those crazy German boys and it’s actually a pretty nice place with these fabulous verandas that overlook the skyline and I love eating breakfast, drinking tea, and doing my devotions there each morning. The bathrooms are beyond awesome, as they have a shower, sink, toilet, and mirror in the same room – the things you take for granted back home : )

OK, routine day: after breakfast we go into the city and run errands, shop, use the internet, come back for lunch, read, write, hang out, make dinner, play board games, hang out, go to bed. Yesterday one of the guys rented a car though and we went and saw some mountains, beaches, stones, and flowers : )

The immense FREEDOM of traveling as a lifestyle is insanely cool. It hits me whenever I get on a bus; the sense of independence and possibility, the ease of going to a completely new place, it’s exciting and liberating. But it’s also a bus and NZ is fairly mountainous, so after about 6 hours of winding roads along the coastline, I felt like I was going to puke.

I’m back in Christchurch to catch my flight tomorrow. I finally escaped the northern part of the Southern Island (huh?) after 3 months. But even more exciting than that, I’m couchsurfing for the first time. (And yes Mom, I left the address with some friends before I got here.)

I’m staying with a guy named Eric from New Mexico.
- he’s been traveling around the world for the past 2 years
- the past month, he’s been renting a house with 4 girls (3 Kiwi’s, 1 Italian) and 1 guy (no clue where
he’s from)
- he’s headed back to the states the end of April
I give these details to underscore the whole traveling culture shpeal, where residents and travelers share apartments or houses and travelers often only rent places for a few weeks or months.

OK, the forgone conclusion of this whole blog should be that things are hard and I suck at doing them. HA.
Louis and I bought harmonicas a few days ago so that we could play the blues on the street and see if we could make enough money for a cup of joe ($3.50 each).
dundundundundu
got kicked out of my house
dundundundundu
had to live with my mom
dundundundundu
I lost my dog, my cat, and my mouse (well, really it was just my cat)
dundundundundu
and now I’m out on the street with only this song
yeah, I got the blues
the no house, no mouse, but a mom and a song blues
hahahahaha
BUT, neither of us could figure out how to play a blues riff to save our lives, so we parted ways with a promise to practice and meet up down the road.
Anyway, Eric showed me how to play notes on a harmonica. (Something I still haven’t mastered by any means – it looks like people just blow and wiggle their fingers, piece of cake right? Wrong.) And he gave me the music to Oh Susanna. I’m siked.
And even cooler than that, he tried to teach me how to surf this morning. The house is directly across the road from the beach (Pacific Ocean) and we threw on some wetsuits, grabbed some boards and hit the waves. Actually, the waves hit me and I fell… a lot.
I guess I have a few things to start practicing.

Some things that are exceptionally neat…
- Couchsurfing. Because you get to see what life in NZ is really like. For example, I’m staying in a suburb of Christchurch instead of the center of the city. And with NZers instead of Germans for goodness sake. It really gives me a feel of what it would be like to live here rather than just travel here.

- The girls that are flatmates with Eric are Christians and I got to go to a church home-group tonight (it’s Wednesday). And it’s just insane how many Christian events, groups, services, and people have kind of just found me – they just fall into my lap. Such a God thing.

- I’m becoming quite acclimated to NZ. I have a NZ bank account, video rental cards, grocery store discount cards, a NZ phone number (to a phone that actually full of numbers of only fellow travelers who also have NZ phones and I text back and forth with people daily), and I have a bunch of people to visit or stay with in a few cities. Craziness.

Anyway, I’m making tea (dinner. Yeah, I know, it’s odd…) with some of the girls from the flat (house/apartment) so that should be sweet as (cool).

When one makes travel plans, it might be good if “where the cute boys are” doesn’t rate all too high on the factoring list : )

I seriously almost went on a 5 day hike (5 DAYS!!! ) on a trek that I’ve already spent 6 hours doing (which I didn’t really like and which nearly KILLED me) because a gorgeous (I mean, he was HOT) Swedish guy asked me to come with him. In the end, I decided I’d rather be remembered as the girl he thought was cute and enjoyed talking to one night at the hostel then the girl who looked like a nut after a week with no shower, passed out hiking, and complained like a son of a gun.

Speaking of cute boys who one might rearrange their travel plans because of, I got to hang out with Mr. Edgar Frey this week. He came to Nelson a few times to visit and I went to Motueka one night and then he declared his undying love for me and we decided to run off to Germany together. HA.

Speaking of ending up a crazy old lady all alone with her cats, I met a Scottish lass by the name of Louis who confessed the same such fear within minutes of our first conversation, a moment which bonded us as neurotics with hopelessly romantic and humorous outlooks on life, love, and lentil soup. HA.

Speaking of instant best friends, it’s so cool how people that you maybe talked to for 10 minutes in one town will feel like a good friend when you bump into them in another town and by the third time that you meet up along the beaten NZ path they almost feel like “home.” (This actually happens fairly often since NZ is quite the small country and most people have the same basic itinerary.)

Speaking of people who are awesome, I’m rooming with some Asian girls who make the best sushi and curry I’ve ever eaten; they even packed me a lunch to take on my long bus trip to Christchurch (thanks JoJo!!!!!) One of the Villa girls took a bus to Nelson to spend the day with me. And I met an Israeli guy who made the funniest jokes about terrorism and gave me tips on how to impress guys by telling stories about the constellations.

And finally, speaking of happiness, I am.

My spastic tendencies seem to be inescapable. Although perhaps this time they were exacerbated by my overwhelming homesickness. Listening to Bob Marley’s “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” for the month of February every morning before I got out of bed seems to have had no long term impact on my general approach to life.

After much stress, thought, and a good measure of freaking out, I finally made a decision. I’m hitting the open road (making sure to yield for sheep of course. and hobbits. HA. I blame my cheesy sense of humor on my mom btw).

And all my worry was for not; the pub said I can work there after I’m done traveling if they happen to need someone at that time.

Man, I need to be more laid back and just roll with things. Yo. Homie.

And to that affect (being more laidback, not rolling like a gangster), I’m not going to spaz about work or money anymore. You run out of money, you work. And that’s what I’ll do. Simple.

Word.

Here’s the lowdown on work. I’ve been semi-trying to get a job since I got here in January, right? So I line up the apple picking job – that sucked and I quit. I get a job at a café – they don’t schedule me for more than 20 hours a week and I quit. I head back to Picton – can’t find work. I head to Nelson and…

I could work at the fish factory mornings and the Victorian Rose full time in the evenings, but I’d have to stay in Nelson for 2 months. And neither job really starts till next week… but, I originally planned on leaving Nelson Tuesday to catch a flight in Christchurch on Thursday and start traveling around. I need to decide by tomorrow what to do – TRAVEL OR WORK???????

My writing can be a tab bit sarcastic at times, and I tend to complain because I think that it’s witty and entertaining : ) But in all honesty, I’ve been having a rough time since I arrived in Nelson. I’m always homesick – but this is the first time that it’s really getting to me. And I think that’s why I’ve felt physically ill and also why my skin is breaking out like crazy. (Seriously though, why would God make it that feeling like crap emotionally causes you to feel like crap physically and look like crap as well? Not cool. At all.)

So, I’ve been trying to take this situation and view it as an opportunity for growth and see what I can get out of it, but that hasn’t really changed how I feel. Sometimes it just sucks to travel on your own and it’s frustrating that I haven’t been able to make any money. And sometimes, I just really want to be home and I question what on earth I am doing here in the first place.

Anyway, maybe God is tired of my complaining, because tonight was really, really, REALLY nice. Maybe one of the best nights I’ve spent in NZ so far. It was a simple blessing, but just what I needed. Me, 2 girls from England, 1 from Ohio, and 1 from Indiana sat around for hours talking, joking, and laughing. That’s it. But it was enough.

I went hiking with 2 girls from the hostel today (English / German). I almost didn’t make it up another mountain. Actually, it might just be a really big hill. It took about an hour. I’m not so sure I like hiking. It’s really hard.

I went to my first charismatic church today. I didn’t realize it was charismatic until I heard a bunch of people saying, “abidibadideedoobvledgfkdjfbkwjefjbrbfkewzippeeeee.”
If this made me feel uncomfortable and confused, I can’t imagine how it would make a non-believer feel who was visiting the church. I just don’t see the purpose in it.
Question: The person who speaks in tongues is not supposed to be the person who interprets as well, are they?

I think tomorrow I am going to check into working at the fish factory for a week. I could work days there and still work evenings at The Victorian Rose. Yep. Fish. I don’t even eat fish. Ewwww fish.

Guess what???
I’m HOMESICK.

I feel like I’m dying.

Seriously, since I arrived in Nelson, I’ve had these awful never ending headaches and stomaches.

Maybe that’s why I don’t like it here.

That and the fact that I don’t have any friends. Haha.

It’s OK though – it’s just me and Jesus for now : )

Speaking of the creator of all that is amazing and inspiring in this world, on the morning that I left Ohio, this was my devotion for the day, January 7^th.

“I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go.” Psalms 32:8

The Shepard and Much-Afraid walked together through the burning desert sands; then one day, quite unexpectedly, a path crossed the main track which they were following. “This,” said the Shepherd quietly, “is the path which you are now to follow.” So they turned westward with the High Places right behind their backs and came in a little while to the end of the desert. They found themselves on the shore of a great sea.

The Shepherd said to Much-Afraid, “Remember, even though you seem to be farther away than ever from the High Places and from me, there is really no distance at all separating us. I can cross the desert sands as swiftly as I can leap from the High Places to the valleys, and whenever you call for me, I shall come. This is the word I leave with you. Believe it and practice it with joy. My sheep hear my voice and they follow me.

“Whenever you are willing to obey me, Much-Afraid, and to follow the path of my choice, you will always be able to hear and recognize my voice, and when you hear it you must always obey. Remember also that it is always safe to obey my voice, even if it seems to call you to paths which look impossible.”

Talk about divine timing.

Anyway…

Hopefully I’ll work more next week – I only worked 1 night this week as a “trial run”.

Also…

At the moment, I’m leaning towards keeping all my traveling plans for April & May vs. staying in Nelson to work. I mean, worst case scenario, I run out of money and have to sleep in a box and live off instant noodles for a while. No biggie.

But not necessarily in that order.

It appears that I’ve run off to a foreign country to get a job in some hole in the wall bar. My mom always said I would go far in life : ) But this isn’t just any hole in the wall bar, the staff sit around and drink and carry on till it gets busy when the live music starts each night. OK, so maybe that’s exactly what every hole in the wall bar is like, but I swear, this one is really cool.

I LOVE working at The Victorian Rose, which is actually a café/restaurant/bar. The people who work there are fun and laid back, which is good because I have absolutely no clue how to bartend. (I just learned that Jack Daniel’s is whiskey and Jose Cuervo is tequila and Jim Beam is… um, whiskey?) Luckily, they don’t serve cocktail drinks, and most people either come in to eat or to hear the music – so it doesn’t have that seedy people getting drunk and living in depravity feeling.

Redemption
I’m actually thinking about staying in Nelson for a month or 2, as I told The Victorian Rose I was planning on doing. It’s an awesome job and traveling would be more enjoyable if I wasn’t stressed about being utterly broke.

Indecision
I still want to travel with the crazy German boys and see the South Island with Carolina. I really don’t know what to do.

Free Drinks
I usually just have a beer or 2, then switch to OJ or lattes.
(You didn’t really think I moved away to become a lush with no moral fortitude did you?)

So, lalalala, I’m walking along a path beside a small river in Nelson and I come upon a bridge that passes over the water. Noticing that there are stones under the bridge, I think that it might be fun to walk across the stones to the other side. Noticing that the stones are fairly wet and probably slippery, I realize that there’s a small chance I may end up in the water. If I was with a friend, I wouldn’t give it a second thought, because if you end up falling in and looking stupid, you have someone to laugh with you. Being alone, if you end up falling in and looking stupid, you just look stupid.

This is the dilemma of traveling alone.

After all this speculation about crossing some retarded stepping stones, I had no choice but to do it and fulfill some metaphor about living life to the fullest and being independent or some such crap that I had concocted in my head.

I didn’t fall in.

This would be a better story if I had.

It’s funny how even though nothing is really happening over here in NZ, I just keep writing.

Maybe I should keep a blog once I get home. Today I went to the grocery store and spent 10 minutes trying to decide which milk to buy. 2% has more Vitamin D, but skim is less fattening. Contemplating the struggle between trying be healthy vs. trying to be beautiful, I decided “screw milk, juice is on sale.”

I promise, I’ll try and do something more exciting soon : )

I can justify posting this blog because it also contains the information that dadadada (drumroll) I got a job. Actually 2, and I have to pick which one I want to keep. Both are at bar/restaurant type places, and in a city where EVERYTHING closes by 5:30, they are 2 of about 6 places that stay open till 3AM. One is a little more laid back and has live music every night, while the other is actually 2 different bars in town that I would rotate between (one is a sports bar and one has a dj and pool tables) and is a little more rowdy. I must admit that I’m siked because I’m not only going to be serving, I get to bartend.

(OK anyone from TKG is probably shocked by this – can I blame you guys for the beginning of my downward spiral? Haha.)

After this news as well as the “integrity schmintegrity” blog, you might be thinking, “she leaves the country and her morals go right out the window.” What can I say, there wasn’t any room for them in my suitcase. Hahaha. What?? I’m just kidding : )

It’s official, I’m a liar. Liar, liar, pants on fire, hanging from the shreds of what integrity I have left.

See, the truth of the matter is that I need money, which means I need a job. And here in the situation gets a wee bit tricky. I have 2 weeks before my flight to Auckland, which is the commencement of 6-7 weeks of solid traveling and spending money.

Places won’t hire you unless you are willing to stay for 2-3 months. Hmmmm. So I’m about 10 weeks short of being an honest person.

While it’s easy to joke about this, I actually do feel torn and conflicted, while the turmoil keeps me up at night and I sometimes find myself crying all alone in the dark. Well, OK, maybe that’s not completely truthful. Jeez, this lying thing is getting easier and easier to do.

NELSON

Picton – 5,000 people.
Nelson – 50,000 people.

I think I like it here because I’m a sucker for streets lined with hanging flower baskets and trees with white twinkle lights. Although I could find that in some suburbs of Cleveland, so what I’m doing halfway around the world, I’m not so sure.

Although, I’ll tell you what – if I didn’t need money and I didn’t have this desire to keep seeing new places, I would head back to Picton in a heartbeat. I’d stay with the crazy German boys and our awesome Irish manager Jilian, hanging out in a hostel that only has about 10 – 20 guests (vs 50 – 60 at most hostels) and turns the lights off at night to light candles. It’s chill and it feels like home; it’s the only place over here so far where I’ve felt connected and been around people who I can talk to and goof around with like I do back in good old Ohio. Awwww.wwwwwwwwww : )

As in what’s been going on the past 2 weeks.

some things have come to fruition though…

- I crocheted a scarf and gloves : )

- I’ve made travel plans that will see me through to the end of May. I’ll meet up with the crazy German boys while I’m in Aukland mid-April and then travel around the South Island seeing all the sites o’ interest with an awesome German girl named Carolina for the month of May. So there’s that.

- Then there’s always a bit of the same old, same old ya know – meeting people from around the world and sharing our ideas, philosophies, and thoughts about the purpose of life. Ha. Yeah, something like that : )

SIDESTORY

To preface…

Picton

2 hostels

The Sequoia Lodge, where the German boys are and where I stayed the first stint here

The Villa, where all the girls are and where I stayed the second stint

The Villa girls are quite taken with the Sequoia boys and some friendly mingling and then some has gone on.

As all girls, the Villa girls tend to be DRAMA.

So conflict ensues. He slept with her, she said that, she kissed him, he said this, and so on.

On occasion, I have found myself awkwardly caught in the middle between the 2 groups, since I’m the one person who kind of hangs out with each.

(Welcome back to junior high folks. Although to be honest, I have found that this kind of crap really never does end, regardless of age.)

The story…

It’s dinner time and the girls are talking about the boys and I make a very casual, innocent (or so I thought) comment about one girl always flirting with one boy (who just happens to be kind of seeing another girl who was at the Villa, but is now traveling elsewhere in NZ.) Sooooooo, this girl adamantly denies that she has ever flirted with this guy (yeah freaking right), gets quite angry, the table becomes silent, this girl throws her glass of water in another girls face, and the table remains silent. Drama.

I suppose this is what happens when you have so many travelers staying in a small town for such a long time.

Good old Picton.

Tomorrow morning I head to Nelson.

OK – so I felt a little bit like a loser for coming back to Picton.  I mean, even by NZ standards, Picton is a small nowhere town with absolutely NOTHING to do.  (As is Motueka interestingly enough.)  But I got here, and almost all the travelers who were here when I left are still here – 3 ½ weeks later. 

What’s really crazy though is that by complete and total happenstance – the crazy German boys came back last night!!! And a German girl who was wofing at the hostel before came back last week.  I mean, holy freaking crap.  NONE OF US PLANNED ON COMING BACK AND WE ALL DID AND ALL DURING THE SAME WEEK.  I think that is psycho crazy coincidental.  There’s just something about this place that sucks you in and brings you back. 

And let me tell you, for as much as the German boys drove me up a wall – I was thrilled to see them – THRILLED.  Like, I couldn’t stop smiling and I kept hugging them.  hahaha.  It’s a little sad that I’m at a different hostel this time, but oh well.  Tonight we are having a Lost marathon, because one of them downloaded a bunch of episodes.

I’m ever always… 

surrounded by germans

hungry

eating : )

homesick

feeling like i don’t have enough time

walking barefoot

laughing

going to the grocery store

checking my email

head over heels in love with my family and friends

sarcastic

writing on my laptop

comforted by walking arm in arm with a friend

laying by the beach admiring the freezing cold water

shy

making beds, folding sheets, and cleaning toilets

cringing when kiwi’s say they have to go to the “toilet”

feeling blessed to have this amazing opportunity

without a plan

drinking tea

laying in a hammock

feeling a little bit all alone on the other side of the world

reading

a spontaneity junkie

looking up at a night sky that doesn’t have the big dipper 

singing

confused by which way i need to look when i cross the street

talking in my sleep

a little bit nuts

filled with hope

MY FAVORITE THINGS ABOUT MOTUEKA (in no particular order)

1. climbing on the rocks by Kiteriteri Beach; I climbed these big rocks along the coast for about an hour with a guy I meant from Washington state.
2. the view from the top of Mount Aurther… or well, 2/3’s of the way up Mount Aurther
3. the Hogland Glass Store, which had the most amazing hand blown glass on display. I actually considered buying a $500 bowl. Eek.
4. my tractor : )
5. cooking and grocery shopping with Edgar
6. the 25 apples my roommates gave me on my birthday from the pack-house they work at
7. the praise band at the church I was going to

THE WORST THING ABOUT PICTON (where I’ve been for a day and a ½ now)

1. I can’t find work. Everyone tells me they had work a few weeks ago, which would have been when I was here the first time. So that kind of sucks.

I really, really, REALLY hate saying goodbye to the people that I meet here.  A lot. 

 And it happens all the time

Actually, there was no “climbing” involved and I only made it 2/3’s of the way up.  (I am still sadly and pathetically out of shape.)  The only accurate part of my title is that there was a mountain.  Mt. Arthur, which is about an hour from Motueka.  So far, it’s my favorite hike here in NZ, although I must admit, I haven’t done all too many hikes yet.  In fact, I think I may just be an awful traveler.  Not only have I not seen much of the 2 islands, I’m now going back to places that I’ve already been.  I’m headed back to Picton to WOF at the hostel where the girls I met here before are; so same city, different hostel.  I can work at the hostel for free accommodation and FREE MEALS, and get a job at a café or hotel so that I can make and then miraculously – hopefully – save some money.  The plan is to stay there till the end of March, then work for 2 weeks in Nelson, then go down to Christchurch for a day or two because I fly from there to Auckland on the 17^th and then from Auckland to Rarotonga in the Cook Islands on the 27^th.  Then I need to kick it into high gear and see the South Island before ski season starts.  Time goes so freaking fast – I already feel like I’m running out of it.  Eek.

2freaking5. 

Let’s just say, I’m not exactly overjoyed to be getting older; and yes, I do view 25 as older.  I’m now mid-20’s. I’m getting into that real “adult” adult stage.  I’m not going to dwell on it though, because that would just be retarded. 

How I Spent My Birthday
Well, at midnight the 3 German guys I’m hanging out with opened a bottle of champagne and sang my happy birthday in English and then in German, which I must say was quite cute.  And at about 1AM, I opened the presents my fabulous friends back home sent me – all alone, locked in a damp, dingy little bathroom.  Haha.  I don’t say this to sound sad and pathetic; rather I find it quite humorous.  (BTW, my presents were AWESOME – thanks guys!!!!!!!)  Then this morning when I came into the kitchen, the guys had made me a chocolate cake (in the microwave – LOL) with 25 candles to blow out; cake and ice cream = breakfast of champions.  I spent some time at the beach, some time on the phone with friends and family, and watched Lost (What the heck is going on?!  Why did some people stay on the island and when does Jack start to go crazy and hope to crash on another plane???).  And when the Asian girls came home from the apple pack-house at 11PM, they had 25 apples for me, around which they sang happy birthday.

Anyways, not a bad day, although it definitely doesn’t hold a candle to last years beer and bowling celebration : )

Pieces of bread I ate today:  7

things that are beyond fabulous

1.  Motueka is small enough and I’ve been here long enough that I actually run into people I know around town.

2.  There are an infinite number of ways to eat grilled cheese sandwiches:  with green peppers, salsa, tomatoes, mushrooms, and I’m thinking pineapple might even be good.

3.  I’m going to the Cook Islands in April with Edgar and maybe some other Germans.  The trip is a little ridiculously expensive.  (which I suppose isn’t so fabulous.)  Plane tickets are about $900, but accommodation at a hostel on the beach is only $25 per night.  The main island is Rarotonga and it only takes you an hour to drive around the island – on fun little scooters which I am oh-so-siked to drive.  And the water is so shallow in some areas that you can walk to the other nearby islands.

4.  On a related note to this somewhat expensive endeavor, George W. Bush has decided to give me $600.  This is definitely fabulous.

5.  The café that I work at is crazy cute.  The only drawback is that I’m not getting that many hours at the moment.  There is a possibility that I might be able to pick up a few shifts at a nearby box making factory though.  Cross your fingers for me : )

This is the cafe I work at.

Pieces of bread I ate today:  13

Some of my friends have often commented that I live my life like an open book, while others have described me as a little spastic. 

It’s in this spirit that I’m going to take these next few moments to rant, to rave, and quite frankly, to be a little bit of a lunatic. 

AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That’s because social etiquette refrains me from screaming at the top of my lungs in public.  And that’s where I am.  Constantly.  In public, surrounded by people.  People who are strangers, acquaintances, and even when they might somehow fall into the category of friends, the connection that really bonds you to another person seems to be elusively lost in translation because every freaking person I meet and know is German.*  There are definitely times when I think I might lose my mind or kill somebody by poking in their eyes, strangling them, and then kicking them in the stomach – because living in a hostel is suffocating.  I want my own room, my own bathroom, and my own refrigerator.  And for the love of all that good and holy in this world – I want some peace and quiet. 

Tonight I found myself in a bit of a funk, and all I wanted was some space.  Trying to escape the masses of foreigners staying here, I hid in my bed.  That lasted for about 30 seconds before one of the Asian girls I’m rooming with came in and chirped in a somewhat sing-songy voice, “no, no, no, no” because I suppose that’s how I say “no” and it gives her great entertainment.  It took all the self-control I had in my being to not tackle her and then run out of the room.  I did find myself walking out of the room, and then running down the city street though.  And as I began to question whether I looked like a psycho running down the street in the middle of the night, I rationalized that it was OK because I could picture it happening in a movie scene.  I mean, who use’s this kind of logic?  I guess Hollywood is an exceptional standard by which one should gauge their behavior.  Anyway, I managed to find a spot of grass by a sidewalk in a small neighborhood where I thought I could somewhat inconspicuously lay on the ground and look up at the stars.  What on earth was I thinking?  Ummmm, “Why the heck am I in New Zealand and what am I doing in this town and where am I going to go next and what is the point of making ‘pseudo’ traveling friends when I am never going to see them again or they are going to leave and travel somewhere else in a week and why would I stay in one place longer because I’ve actually made a good friend when all I’m doing is postponing the moment when I’m going to say ‘well, I’m never EVER going to see you again – have a nice life’?” 

So I spent about 20 minutes contemplating the purpose and/or lack of purpose of this trip, tried to force myself to cry in a lame attempt to have some sort of emotional release, gave up, got up, and went back to home sweet hell of a hostel.  Where I’m now sitting in the dining room/kitchen/living room writing on my laptop as I try to ignore the 15 very loud people around me. 

I feel like I should put a little smiley face so people don’t think that I’m too upset and I end on a happy note 

: )

Ha.

: ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : ) : )

Now I feel like I should start typing, “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.” hahaha.

I swear I’m not losing my mind, but if you’re really concerned you can send me money and I promise I’ll put it towards gaining psychiatric help : )

*For any of my AMAZING German friends who happen to somehow stumble upon this blog – know that I LOVE you and my deprecating sense of humor is just my screwball way of trying to be funny.  (Now you can take a second to look up the translations for “deprecating” and “screwball”J)

Really though – my German friends are awesome.

7 days. For all of you taking bets, I lasted 7 days apple picking.
Which actually isn’t so very pathetic – most people that I talk to last about 2 weeks.
And it wasn’t the whole grueling physical labor thing that threw me off; it was actually my psycho perfectionist tendencies. You see, in order to make good money, you need to pick apples quite quickly, which means you need to somewhat speedily be able to decide which apples are ripe and which aren’t. And there in laid the problem for me. My boss came up to me and ever so kindly said, “your bin of apples is the best we’ve seen this season (yippee, right?)… BUT you need to pick faster, not only pick the best apples, and not spend so much time debating whether an apple is ripe or not.” This was much harder said then done for me. Blah, blah, blah, apples. I did tell them, if they ever have a job where I can just drive the tractor all day, count me in : )

So on Wednesday when I got a call at 8:30AM telling me I had a job at this café with a cute little art gallery and garden. you better believe that by 8:40AM, I put my apple picking days behind me.

I’m rooming with 3 Korean girls, 1 Japanese girl, and a German fellow.  I pick apples, the girls pack apples, and the fellow works in the factory that makes the apple bins.  Almost everyone at this hostel is privileged to be a part of fabulous apple industry; which means everyone comes home at 5 tired as all heck and through the magic of the apple, we’ve all kind of bonded.

Apple picking is getting easier – PHEW.  So, maybe I’ll last a few weeks. 

snapshot into the wonderful world of dana
rocking out to “bringing sexy back” on my i-pod while cruising along on my big farmer tractor : )  I seriously can’t believe this is my life.   

On another note, I love the freedom of traveling without a plan and being able to do whatever in the whole world I want to do, but it’s also hard to decide what exactly that is.  You have so many options and knowing that your choices will totally affect your experience and the people you meet and so on can be somewhat daunting.  Do I want to stay in Motueka and pick apples longer?  Do I want to go work near Picton at a hostel/restaurant on some little island that has no roads?  Do I want to get back together with the girls I met in Picton and stay at their hostel?  Or the Welsh guys are back in NZ, and I could try and meet up with them on the North Island.  Or I could look for a job in Nelson, a cute little artsy city where I could take tap dance lessons.  Hmmmmmmmm.

Well, for another week and a half, I’ll be here picking apples.  After that, God only knows. 

First day on the orchard.

I think the most fun thing – actually the only fun thing – about working on an apple orchard is driving the big farmer tractor that has a trailer for your apple bins attached.  Bins as in plural.  As in hundreds of apples.  As in thousands of apples.  As in I want to fall over and die and never ever eat another apple again.  OK, for all you people out there who are like me in that you don’t quite have the whole career direction thing figured out yet, let me save you a little bit of time; cross apple picking off the list.  I mean, if you really have a heart for fruit picking, I would suggest something of the cherry or grape variety.  They don’t weigh as much.  Although I’m not quite sure it’s the weight that makes it so terribly awful; it’s more the awkwardness of carrying a huge bag in front of you so that you feel like you’re pregnant, while you hang off a ladder trying to find the stupid apples that are 80% red and 20% green.  A ladder that you get to lug around with you by the way.  Oh, and it’s contract work. 

It’s been 1 day.  Anyone want to start taking bets on how long this will last?

Holy crap.  Time goes so stinking fast over here.  It seems like forever ago that I was being offered water by a flight attendant some 3,000 feet above Indiana because he thought I was going to get dehydrated from crying.  Man, am I never going to forget that.  What a stinking sendoff.  The guy even gave me some cookies and chocolate out of his personal baggage to try and console me : )

Anyway, I’m back in Motueka after being in Picton for 3½ weeks and it feels like I never left.  My first day back I was incredibly bummed to have left behind all the friends I made in Picton and about all I felt up to doing was taking a nap.  I almost opened up all the birthday presents my amazing friends K and J sent over, in an attempt to cheer myself up, but I mustered the little self-control that I had and resisted. 

I don’t really like the hostel I’m staying at (it’s the same one I was at before when I was here); it’s clean and all, but not very cozy or homey feeling.  I do have a friend here – Edgar – which is SUPER nice.  He’s such a strong Christian and it’s encouraging to spend time with him.  Through him, I’ve gotten to meet people on group mission trips with Operation Mobilization and Youth with a Mission – which I’m now pretty interested in getting involved with.  Something to think and pray about…

  breakdown of the last few days…

Thursday – I went to a barbeque that a group of 6 people about my age from Operation Mobilization had.  They are camping in NZ and taking backpackers on kayaking trips for free.  They also cook really good food : )

Friday – I tagged along on a church youth group outing to the beach, where I got to meet some of the local kids at the church I’ve been attending here.  Later I went to an outside movie where people brought blankets and pillows and nestled in on the grass to watch Pirates of the Caribbean. 

Saturday – I went to a café/gallery with Edgar and 2 crazy/fun German girls who are staying at the hostel the next few weeks to pick apples.

Sunday – Sunday evening there was a church service with all the local churches in Motueka and an awesome praise band played.

 side note

Unless I have a good recipe, I’m not a good cook.  Like, I don’t even have a clue.  So I’ve been living on pasta and frozen chicken/burgers that you can fry in a pan pretty much.  (This is also cheap food – fyi.)  Well, I’ve been cooking meals with Edgar the past few days, who is a really good cook (usually I would be done eating and back to reading my book by the time he was finished cooking and was sitting down to eat). 

Us cooking together consists of me cutting vegetables/meat/etc. while he, ya know, actually cooks, and then him telling me that I cut the vegetables wrong and showing me how to do it differently.  Ha. 

Splendidly Sun Kissed.
I went sailing today. And amidst diving off the boat and napping on the deck, the thought passed through my mind that with days like this, I could travel forever.

NZ, 4 million people, 80 MILLION SHEEP.

highlights of the week

- I went to a rave. I’m in a town with 6,000 people, and I went to a rave. It was me, the 3 guys I’m rooming with, some Danish and Australian guys staying at our hostel, plus the girls working at the hostel down the street (the villa girls). Actually, it wasn’t as much of a rave as it was 20 people crashing a girl’s 21^st birthday party because somebody told them it was a rave. I suppose there was a DJ and a fog machine.

-One of the villa girls and I wanted to go to Blenheim, a city about an hour away, to do some shopping and such. Since neither of us had a car, we decided to hitchhike. After about 10 minutes of standing on the side of the road with my thumb up and feeling like a complete idiot, we got picked up by a semi truck, only to arrive in Blenheim and find the city empty and the stores closed because it was a stinking Saturday.

-Pilates every morning with the villa girls. I’d like to take this moment to say that I am absolutely thrilled to have girls to hang out with! All boys all the time is not my idea of paradise by any means.

*For all those who ever daydream about traveling – you should know that it’s easy as cake. And besides the plane ticket (asaptickets.com or statravel.com) and international health insurance (mnui.com), it’s quite cheap. It’s also easy to find work in exchange for pay or for accommodation and meals. So do it. Come travel with me : )

It was my first time driving a huge van, my first time driving a manual, and definitely my first time driving on the left side of the street. I have to admit, I’m fairly impressed with myself and my awesome driving skills.

I’m also impressed with the rate at which I am gaining weight. The cookies every afternoon and the chocolate pudding every night might not be the best idea. And I think the South Beach Diet guy would have a heart attack if he knew the amount of carbs I’m eating; just to give you a hint, I go through a loaf of bread every 3-4 days. Confession: it’s 11PM and I’m having tea and cookies as I write this. At this rate, I’m going to be the one having a heart attack. My close friends know I already have this fear that all the good Christian guys will be married by the time I get back home; I suppose it won’t help my chances if I come back fat. Ha.

(Who doesn’t love grilled cheese and green peppers?)

Me and Niklas.

Even if I don’t come back fat, I am going to come back with quite the collection of jokes and card tricks. And probably no souvenirs, because my suitcase will be dangerously close to the limit for flying. Speaking of which, for those of you who read my earlier blogs and know of my crazy heavy suitcase, I’ve spent $80 on postage to mail some of my crap back home (via a ship that will take 4-8 weeks – ahoy matey), given a bag of clothes to a thrift store, and thrown quite a few things away (like my curling iron. I let my hair air dry here and look like an absolute nut. A girl with a curling iron would get even more made fun of than a girl with a suitcase.)

On a more serious note, I think I’ve been kind of “stuck” at this hostel because God wants me here; the German guys have had quite a few questions about Christianity and I’ve had the chance to share my faith with them. One night when I was eating dinner with one of the guys, I was feeling very convicted to talk about religion, but was really nervous. And I was kind of thinking/praying that it would be so much easier if he would just ask about it, because we hadn’t really talked about God or anything yet and I felt like a religious psycho just bringing it up out of nowhere. And I kid you not, 3 seconds later, he starts asking me a bunch of questions.

It was pretty freaking neat.

love and miss you all,

the fat girl with the bad hair : )

Ich lieber dich. I love you. I wonder why this is the only phrase the German guys have taught me so far : )
Actually, I’ve had to work my way into their good graces lately. The first betrayal was when I tried to leave and go hiking with the Welsh guys. The second was when I tried to leave and go work at another hostel in Picton. What can I say, a girl can only say, “please put your pants back on” or “what on earth is that smell?” so many times before she starts to lose it just a little.

I am going to the other hostel on Thursday to attend an anti-Valentine’s Day party with the girls who work there. I suppose some things never change, regardless of where you are.

I have endless free time here pretty much, and to be honest, it’s hard not to get bored. I think it might be different if I was traveling with a friend, but alas – I’m here all by my lonesome. I’m trying to figure out constructive ways to make use of my time (i.e. writing, praying, eating, cartwheels, making macaroni necklaces.)

It’s kind of like free time at summer camp – ALL DAY LONG.

BAD NEWS
As it turns out, one of the Welsh guys had a family emergency and they had to fly back to Wales. So alas, I’m still here in Picton. This came as quite the disappointment at first because I was siked by the spontaneity of changing plans on a whim; simply because as I was sitting there and playing cards with them, the thought passed through my head that they were funny and it would be a blast to hike with them for a few weeks. Because just being in New Zealand isn’t thrilling enough : ) Each place I go begins to have a feeling of routine, normalcy, etc.

I’m sure over the course of the next year, I’ll have plenty of opportunities to fulfill the spontaneity junkie inside of me. But for right now – I’m a little bummed.

GOOD NEWS
I really like one of the managers at the hostel – Gillian, who’s from Northern Ireland (which btw is my favorite accent so far.) And I think we are going to go surfing together – yippee! Learning how to surf is on my list of things to accomplish before I die. As is walking along railroad tracks, which I did with a chap named Sam from England; we even got to cross a few scary old looking RR bridges. (I sound like a nut, don’t I?)

Other cool things I’ve done lately:
-Saw glow worms on a night hike.
-Saw my first shooting star!! (Looking at the sky here, I can see so many more stars than in Ohio, but they all look very far away. As opposed to Romania, where the stars seemed so close you could reach out and grab one.)
-Rocked out with the German guys in the car to Sinead O’Conner’s “Nothing Compares to You.” LOL. Yeah, these guys drive me absolutely crazy, but they can be pretty fun too. And there’s 3 of them now – their friend Ingo joined us this week. And Ingo is really sweet and nice, which balances out the crude, obnoxious humor of Nick and George. I don’t think anything could compensate for the way our room smells in the morning though – goodness, boys stink.
-I’m no longer on bathroom/vacuuming duty. Now I’m making beds and baking a chocolate cake everyday.

This is me, a German girl working at the hostel, George, Gillian, and Niklas eating dinner at the hostel.

Another day, another dollar – err, actually wait – that only applies to all you people who are reading my blog; for me, it’s another day, another hike to the beach : )

Change of plans – yet again. (I know, I know.) Some really funny Welsh guys came through the hostel last night and a group of us were sitting around and playing Israeli card games (I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried) and we were talking about NZ traveling and so on. So, I’m lamenting over my lack of hiking skills and gear, and they chirp in that they also don’t have skills/gear, but they still go and just rent out huts along the way, sans sleeping bags and ridiculously huge backpacks well stocked with hiking amenities. WOO-WHOO. These are my kind of people; I can actually go hiking and not feel intimidated/embarrassed because I’m a prissy, unprepared American wimp – haha. So I’m taking the ferry to Wellington on the North Island Monday or Tuesday I think… and the tentative plan is to work for 10 days or so, go hiking for a few days, then take the ferry back down here and head to the apple orchard.

TRAVELING INSIGHT
Some stereotypes exist for a reason. Case in point: today on 3 separate occasions I had an Asian ask to have their picture taken with me. Just random Asians staying at the hostel – not someone I knew or had ever spoken to before. Seriously. hahaha. There was no conversation before or after the picture. They just wanted a picture with me. One of the guys did say that I had a cheerful smile, but that was it. Yep.  I didn’t mind or anything.  I just think it’s funny.

13. Lucky number 13. As in the number of bathrooms this place has to clean. DEAR LORD. haha. Actually, they don’t all need cleaned everyday; today I only had to do 6.

Soooooooooooooooooooooooo, I’m currently working and rooming w/ 2 German fellas (Nick and George, ages 20 and 21). Yeah, the atmosphere is just a little bit “frat house-ish.” I’m not sure how long this will last before I lose my mind. Not to mention that these Germans are inescapable – I think they might be plotting to take over the world… again – this time via NZ, lol.

This is my room.

A typical day in Picton for your favorite American traveler
wake up at 8:30
eat breakfast (cereal w/ bananas and yogurt)
read out of the devotional book my mom got me (she and my sister are using the same one – a cool way to be connected)
start cleaning at 9:30 (clean 6 bathrooms, sweep 8 rooms, mop one floor)
tea and cookies w/ Nick, George, and the 2 managers. (There’s always tea time after cleaning. Also, the managers are just here during the morning and late afternoon/early evening. Other times, it’s just me and the Germans to hold the fort down.)
shower
lunch (PB&J and an orange)
use the internet
read my bible and relax on the hammock
walk around town and down to the beach
go to the grocery store w/ Nick and George
hot tub time
dinner (pasta)
cake and ice cream time (every night at 8)
watch a movie
write my blog article on my laptop
read
bedtime
That’s me in a nutshell

I’m thinking about looking for a part time job for while I’m here. But it’s kind of nice to take it easy. I dunno. We’ll see. It’s hard to get over the mindset that if you’re not working, you aren’t accomplishing anything; and when you have a chance to make money, you should. I think this is a huge component of the American perspective. Every other country seems to allow it’s citizens somewhere between 5 weeks and 3 months vacation time, and work doesn’t take precedence in your life to the same awful degree that it does for us Americans. I might have already mentioned this. I just can’t get over it. We need a presidential candidate that will change this. Screw global warming and poverty – I want more vacation time.

Picton is quite the small town; it’s at the top of the South Island, about 2 and 1/2 hours west of Motueka, and it’s where the ferry that goes from the North Island to the South Island is located. And I think I just might love it here.

I love how laid-back Kiwi culture is, how you get to meet people from all over the world, being here on my own with no real plan or responsibility, and just seeing new places. I haven’t been in NZ very long, but so far I haven’t seen any scenery that rivals the mountains and canyons of out west in the states or the beaches in the Dominican Republic. Maybe the really good stuff is on those crazy 4 day hikes that all these nutty people are so in to. See, one of the good things about America is that we aim for convenience; all of our national parks have paved roads that lead to well marked out hiking trails where you only need to walk a few hours, or even a few minutes, to see the really amazing stuff. People might think we Americans are sissies, but I think it just makes good sense. Easy = smart; other countries are just jealous. In retrospect, I may be more of a “backpack through Europe” kinda girl: ) haha. Nonetheless, I do love it here.

I’m working at a hostel for the next 2-3 weeks. I clean for 3 hours each morning, 6 days a week in exchange for: free lodging, breakfast, tea and cookies in the afternoon, gooey chocolate cake and ice cream in the evening, barbecues on Friday nights, use of the washing machine/dryer, and internet. The hostel is super cute, with brightly colored rooms, hammocks, a theater room, and a hot tub! Freaking fabulous.

As much as I enjoyed having familiar faces around in Motueka for the past 2 weeks, it’s nice to be on my own again – starting out in a new place. I’m excited to just chill at the hostel and explore the little town; do a little hiking, a little swimming – sounds like a plan.

Interesting side note – I met a family from Israel last night at the hostel and I got to talk with them for about an hour, then play PS2 with the 2 younger boys – lol. Anyway, they live about 10 minutes from Gaza, and it is normal for their neighborhood to be bombed 2-3x a week, which they said “isn’t that much.” And that they aren’t scared by it at all; whenever another bomb explodes, the kids all run to go see where it went off. CRAZY!!!!

Side note to my side note : ) They said I could stay with them if I ever visit Israel, which of course I would love to… is it slightly odd that the imminent danger thing doesn’t sway me at all from wanting to go? Like, not even for a second.

A cool perk of traveling is that by meeting people from all over, you get invited to stay with people if you ever visit their country. This will come in handy when I actually do backpack though Europe : )

Quick Rugby Rundown:
-You can kick the ball forward and run it forward.
-You can only throw it behind you.
-There is a lot of strange tackling, and there is no time limit on how long a tackle can go on; it lasts until someone is able to get the ball to someone outside of the tackle
-No one wears any pads or protective gear. Which is insane.

I went to my first rugby game last night. It was pretty neat to see.

I’ve been hanging out a lot with Edgar (the German who’s doing his social service obligation over here as a Christian youth leader) and Aurelie, a French girl who is traveling around the world with her boyfriend (her boyfriend is busy during the day bc he is working on getting his sky-diving license.) It’s funny how each place I go to, I get comfortable and become attached to certain things, then I am anxious about leaving and nervous about going to the next unknown place. Which, on the one hand, is nice because you adapt quickly and acclimate yourself to new places forming new comfort zones – so you don’t always feel like you are on the other side of the world and not a part of something. But on the other hand, it is like you keep taking that super scary first step of starting over in the unknown and leaving behind things that brought you comfort and gave you a feeling of fitting in. But I know that regardless of anything else, I am always in God’s hands – and this brings me peace and a feeling of never really being lost or alone.

OK – funny little side story… I think girls often find dancing and/or singing to be not only fun pastimes, but stress relievers of sorts. I know I have spent countless hours singing at the top of my lungs to the radio in my car or dancing around my house like a nut to my favorite songs – and that these things bring me lots of happy joy. And it’s odd the things that I am finding I miss: hugging someone, walking arm in arm, driving, fast food, singing to music, dancing. Well, there’s not really any privacy in youth hostels, so a few days ago I was taking a walk and listening to my ipod and I found myself on a path in a seemingly isolated forest. I took a few quick glances around to confirm that there would be no witnesses to my lunacy and I totally started jumping around and dancing like an idiot in the woods (Picture the seen in Elizabethtown with gorgeous Orlando Bloom.) And those 10 minutes were probably the best part of my day. And I know I’m a dork, but it’s cool.

Things have been fairly low-key the past few days. Small town, no car, it’s all pretty chill. I went to an amazing beach today – I left with two Germans and a French chick and we picked up 5 hitchhikers along the way, 2 of whom were from California and went to the beach with us. After a two hour drive of winding mountain roads and a ten minute trek through a sheep pasture, I found myself on the shores of a beautiful beach with sun, sand, and seals. The water is FREEZING here, so we walked around and explored for 2 hours – which was very cool. The coolest thing though was that I think God planned for us to pick up the hitchhiking American couple; the girl is the same age as me, with a similar college degree, and has just recently gone through insane crappy life circumstances, crazy similar to mine. We were able to talk and I had a chance to share with her how my faith helped me through and about God’s unconditional love and that I’m now thankful for what I went through – as nuts as that sounds – because of the things I learned and the person it made me. (See even God likes and works through hitchhiking – hahaha.)

OK, this is the 2 American hitchhikers, a German guy from the hostel I was staying at, Aurelie – the French girl, me, and Edgar.

I thought it was best to pass on the free baked goods – at the hippie festival that is.  I did take the guy w/ the “free hug” sign up on his offer though : )  The really crazy thing is that I got in for free bc the guy selling tickets was from Cleveland, OH!!!  This is crazy bc he’s only the 4^th person I’ve met from the states.  By the way, I have never seen so many people with dreadlocks in my life.  The band I heard was awesome though.  The festival was at this riverside commune that’s been around since 1942. 

Peace, love, stay nuclear free and all that junk. 

You just gotta love church people. I went to a small church today called Truth-Finders – there were probably around 50 people there and it’s in a warehouse on the main street. The service was decent – pretty old school praise songs and an OK speaker. It was definitely encouraging to be here on the other side of the world and be among people who have the same purposes and beliefs as I do – to know and feel that we are a part of the same thing; it’s a very neat connection. Then after church, a family offered to take me to lunch and gave me names and addresses of people who I could stay with in certain cities and said they might be able to find a bike for me to borrow and such. Very, very cool. You just gotta love church people.

I’m still in Motueka – will be till at least Monday. The other day I went to Nelson with Edgar and walked around the city, got Starbucks, checked out the cathedral, and relaxed on the pier. Cities here have so, so, so many cafes. And cafes, bars, and restaurants are normally open air in the front by the street and will often have tables out on the sidewalks. It’s an artsy kind of atmosphere. In Nelson, the main street was lined with trees and hanging flower baskets too. As soon as I figure out how to upload pictures – I will; either that or I’ll send out a mass email of sorts.

I went to the movie theater to watch some French movie – it had 3 rows of seats comprised of leather couches and chairs. Have I mentioned that I love it here? I mean – everything is just so cute and maybe it’s just the novelty of it – but it’s all pretty awesome.

Yesterday I went hiking with a girl from Austria at Abel Tasman National Park; it’s just a bunch of mountains on the coast. There was one of those cool suspended bridges though. 5 hours of hiking is more than enough for me; some of these backpacker nuts go for 3-4 days. I mean, you have got to be kidding me. After 3 hours, I was ready to fall over. I think I might be out of shape.

I really miss everyone and hate that I can’t call home or email more often – know that you are in my thoughts and prayers all the stinkin time though – really.

Being here makes me feel so blessed to have the family and friends I do in my life. Good stuff. Actually, amazing stuff.

I saw my first shark.  Yep.  It was about as big as I am.  Yep.  I was kayaking in the Golden Bay and it was about 10 feet from me.  So I just kind of lifted my paddle out of the water and watched it swim ever so sloooooooowly by – wondering if sharks really do just attack people.  I mean, could that actually be a possible outcome of this situation or have I seen too many movies?  Needless to say, it didn’t eat me. 

So, kayaking.  That was pretty intense.  I went with a guy named Edgar from Germany who is here for a year as a Christian youth leader – and just as a side note is gorgeous and who I would totally fall for if it weren’t for that fact that he lives halfway around the darn world.  Anyway, kayaking.  3 hours to this little island AGAINST THE CURRENT – dear goodness.  I totally hate those girls who are all like, “help me big strong guy” whenever they are attempting some sort of physical endeavor – but after 2 hours and my arms felt like noodles, I tied my kayak to the back of his for fear that I wouldn’t be able to fight the waves anymore and I’d float off to Antarctica.  When we got to the island, we went hiking to try and find a beach on the other side, got lost, noticed the tide was frighteningly close to our kayaks, and swam a few football fields or so back to rescue them.  Then after about an hour of finally just relaxing on the shore, we had a 2 hour trek back, in the cold, as the sun was setting.  Let me tell you, I slept very well last night.  Very well.

I’m still in Motueka – we haven’t left yet for Blenheim and I’m not sure if/when we will.  I have a feeling that the few who read this blog (hi Mom and Kristin!!) are going to get bored of my ever changing plans – so I’ll try and talk more about what I have done versus what I am going to do.

This is the second hostel that I’ve stayed in and I LOVE staying in hostels so far!!  They have not only been nice and clean, with friendly staff – but you get to meet so many interesting people and you can always find someone to hang out with.  Very cool.  I think I might be known as the silly American girl who brought a suitcase instead of backpack :)

Am I completely nuts bc I think it will be fun to be a migrant worker?  Sarah and I have made arrangements to work and live on an apple orchard in Motueka from February 25^th – March 25^th.  Since apple season doesn’t start for a few weeks, we are going to head to Blenheim, which is about an hour and a half from here, to work until we’re needed at the orchard.  Then, I don’t plan on working full time again until winter – sometime around June. 

Hitching turned out to be a fabulous success – aside from about an hour where I had to drag my 65ish lb suitcase through the grass on a country rode in 80 degree weather which made me feel like I was going to fall over and die a little bit, all bc the dumb metro bus dropped us off at the wrong spot. Luckily, some guy took pity on us and drove us to the main highway where we were able to hitch a ride within 5 minutes all the way to Motueka (a small town outside Nelson) in an SUV with air-conditioning and an extremely nice married kiwi couple. And on the 6 hour drive – I got to see the beautiful NZ countryside.

The town of Motueka consists of a main road with some very cutesy stores and places to eat, all of which is nestled among what I believe to be the foothills of the Southern Alps and close to the Tasman Bay and some rivers – my geographical knowledge is astounding, isn’t it? I’m actually lucky if I can even pronounce the name of the town correctly : ) I do know that it is at the top of the South Island (NZ is comprised of 2 islands).

BC I decided to come up here, I missed the World Buckers Festival in Christchurch – as well as my first couchsurfing experience, which I had to cancel. I think my plan for this trip is to just not have one. I’m not going to try and see it all and do it all. I’m just going to go wherever the wind carries me to and do whatever peaks my interest at the moment. Forget logic, and timetables, and sites of interest. More than that touristy junk, I want this trip to be an experience that God uses to teach me and impact me and the people I meet in a positive way. I want it to be about all that self-actualization crap – haha. And I want to learn how to surf : ) I also have this odd desire to walk around town and go grocery shopping barefoot.

The plan for tomorrow is to get a seasonal job – this will be migrant work that actually pays better than my previous job in the states, which required a college degree. Huh. Interesting isn’t it? After I figure that stuff out, I’ll figure out a place to stay bc I’m only booked at this hostel 2 nights. Maybe I’ll get to couchsurf. (Couchsurfing is an internet community of travelers and lovers of traveling who share their couch for free. Safety is maintained bc people are verified through those who have surfed their couches before. From what I hear, this is an awesome way to learn about the actual culture of the natives, versus only other travelers at hostels.)

Well, I have come to find that hitchhiking is a common way for travelers to get around NZ.  I know, I know – you’re thinking that is crazy unsafe and a sure way to get abducted, killed, mugged, maimed, tarred, feathered, or worse.  But, this is probably coming from the same people who asked me if I watched the movie Hostel before I left – am I right?  (OK mom, before you flip out, know that 1.  NZ is VERY safe, 2.  hitching really is common over here, and 3.  I am not going alone.)  I’m heading out to Nelson tomorrow w/ a girl named Sarah from Germany – we’re going to take the city bus as far as it will take us then hitchhike the rest of the way (the drive is about 7 hours altogether).  For those of you who really know me, you know I’m siked about this and think it will be great fun.   And you know that I have a good head on my shoulders and street smarts.  And mase.  Actually, I don’t have mase, but that would be a really good idea.  I do have peanut butter and crackers for sustenance : )

OK – a few fun NZ facts:

1. The time zone is 18 hours ahead of Eastern Time in OH.
2. Most backpackers are German, Asian, or Israeli.
3. No shoes, no shirt, no problem at most places.
4. A bagel w/ cream cheese is $4.50.  (One of the perks of life on an island.  Ha.)
5. Minimum wage is $11.50.  (One of the perks of life outside of the US.) 
6. And common exchange rates are 1 US dollar = 1.07 – 1.19 NZ dollars. 
7. New Zealanders call themselves kiwis.  I think Americans should start calling themselves apricots or plums or some other fun fruit name.  I mean, who doesn’t like produce?

This is the biggest city on the South Island of NZ, with a population of about 400,000 – people that is, not sheep : ) It’s a cute little town with excellent public transportation, although almost everything is within walking distance.

I love the hostel that I’m staying in this week. It’s 2 houses and a laundry room in a gated yard. Very cute and clean.

There’s probably about 20 people staying here – my room sleeps 6. About half of the travelers are flying solo, while the other half are traveling in pairs. There is one very cute Israeli guy staying here – did you know that it’s compulsory for all Israelis to serve 2 years in the military after high school? I can’t even imagine. After their service, most travel for a year before returning to go to university.

My first full day I hung out with a guy named Abdula from Dubai and we went to New Brighten Beach – my first time seeing the Pacific Ocean – craziness that it was from the other side of the world.

The past few days I have spent listening to my ipod and walking around the city, in Hagley Park and the Botanic Gardens (which is huge Kris and every time I’m there I think about you and how much you would love it), and at art and history museums.

It’s Friday now and I finally have my suitcases – thank goodness. I think I packed too much though (these other backpackers seriously only carry a back pack – who freaking would have known?) I’ll probably be getting rid of stuff as I go – I just want my laptop case and one big suitcase that doesn’t way a zillion pounds, or kilos or whatever the heck they say over here.

Tomorrow there is live entertainment and venders at the Arts Centre, so I’ll check that out. Next week is the World Buckers Festival, where street musicians come from around the world and play at Cathedral Square in the center of the city – I think this will be AWESOME. Hopefully I’ll be OK enough to go out and have a good time – I think I might be getting sick – uuuuggggghh.

I am going to start looking for jobs this weekend/week. I don’t plan on working the next 3 weeks while I’m in Christchurch, but hopefully I’ll find a temporary job in a nearby city or town. At this point in time I plan on hopping around till May, when I want to head to Queenstown (a ski mecca and noted “adventure capital of the world”) for the winter and get a job.

I really don’t feel alone here – hostels are very much like dorms and there are always people around. It’s neat to be exposed to so many cultures. But even more than that, I feel very connected to God and focused; I know I’m in his hands.

As many of you know, I have found that wireless here isn’t free, meaning that emailing will be difficult and my vonage phone may be a no-go. We’ll see. Not having a return ticket home and knowing that you need to keep x amount of money in your bank account if you want to see your friends and family again will definitely make you more conscious of how much you spend. If you don’t have the money, I wonder if they export you… Hmmm.

Anyway, I LOVE AND MISS EVERYONE SO VERY, VERY MUCH!! I feel homesick in a good way, where I feel blessed to have such wonderful people to miss. Which is much better than a hide under my covers and cry homesickness. That will probably hit me next week. Ha.

When they say, “poor thing, we seemed to have lost your luggage” with that cute kiwi accent, it’s almost not as upsetting.  Almost.  I guess it wasn’t as awful as when the attendant on the flight from Cleveland to Chicago told me, “I’m sorry, you can’t get off of the plane now because we’ve closed the door.”  Haha. Yeah, I’m not kidding.  You see, before checking my bags, I told my mom I would be right back to say goodbye.  (I had to make sure that neither suitcase went over 50lbs before she left– one was 49lbs – phew).  But while checking my bags, I was told that all flights were extremely delayed and the only way to make my next 3 flights would be to get on an earlier flight.  Meaning I needed to RUN.  Right away.  To the gate.  Without saying goodbye to my mom.  So I did, and it didn’t hit me till I boarded the plane that – HOLY CRAP – I’m leaving for a year or so and I didn’t say goodbye to my mom.  Which is when I of course started crying and asked to get off the plane.  It didn’t help that my mom didn’t have her cell phone w/ her, and I wasn’t able to update her to this change in plans.  So I’m flying to Chicago as she’s waiting by the car at the airport thinking I probably got kidnapped or something.  Let me just say now, I am so thankful for all the people who have been praying for me because by the grace of God, I was able to have peace and feel OK about this mini catastrophe – as well as call my mom from Chicago, who amazingly wasn’t freaking out.  (I LOVE YOU MOM!!!) 

So, 4 days later and here I am in Christchurch NZ wearing the same clothes and looking like a nut.  Seriously, when people tell you to pack spare clothes and toiletries in your carryon just in case – listen.