Dargaville

Another coincidence story:

We met a New Zealand family on a beach near Kerikeri, and by the end of the conversation they had invited us to come stay with them in Dargaville. Sure enough, a few weeks later, we were headed down the west coast of New Zealand so I called them and asked if we could come visit.

"Sure, come on down," Bev said in a very motherly, relaxed voice.

A few days later we arrived in Dargaville, a dusty river town which main function is to supply local farmers. I texted Bev that we had arrived and her husband David picked us up a half hour later. Dave has a perpetual smile on his face and laughs at almost everything anyone says; he is a very nice, cheerful man. He took us to his son's cricket game on the way back to the farm (it was kind of interesting in a boring sort of way; the three-legged dog being chased by a toddling girl was more exciting).

As soon as we arrived at their house, two of their grown-up daughters Leoni and Paula invited us to a circus party that night. We picked up some fish-and-chips on the way and drove for a half hour on deserted roads to Baileys Beach, an even smaller town. It was a great party for several reasons:

1. The food and drink. Everyone brought something delicious, like guacamole, homemade bread, delicious quiche, our fish and chips contribution, and a big plate of steak that was passed around, and lots of wine and mixed drinks.

2. The activites. Everyone at the party had some sort of unique circus talent, and we saw them on display: unicycling, juggling, fire-spinning, and fire hula hooping! Which I got to try! I actually got a private lesson with the best hula hooper there, he taught me some new tricks and then let me try the fire hoops. It was amazing!

3. The people were all very interesting, hippies from all over the world - Argentina, New Zealand, America...

And that party was only the first night of our 3 day stay. We also got a tour of the (stinky poopy but interesting) shed where they milk the 500 cows. Bev and their homeschooled 13-year-old daughter Megan took us to ride their horses bareback, which was awesome. And we walked from their house to the longest drivable beach in New Zealand (not the 90-mile-beach!) where they had a dilapidated little batch set up that Dave had build himself.

They were so hospitable and nice, they fed us and we cooked for them a few times and scrubbed their kitchen. I'm really happy we met them.

How they milk 500 cows - they take about 50 at a time into this shed.

Cows being milked by machine

Dave getting fresh milk for the family - so tasty!

Happy grass-fed cows! 

Cute and friendly!

How now brown cow?

One of their 4 horses

Path down to the beach by their house

Longest beach in New Zealand!

The Bourdins

This story is from the first few weeks of our travels around New Zealand, when we were cleaning a hostel in Kerikeri in exchange for our accommodation.

After standing in a wherehouse sorting kiwifruit all day, I was ready to release some energy. James and I, along with a German girl we had just met at the hostel, walked to the park to set up the slackline. I decided to go to the grocery store to buy some vegetables from the reduced bin for dinner. As I walked across the field, I tossed a frisbee to myself. On the way back, I noticed some people playing ultimate frisbee! I was about to ask if I could play when one of the players ran towards me.

"Halo, do you play ultimate frisbee? I saw you with one earlier. Would you like to play?" He asked in a heavy French accent.

"Yeah, I do! I love ultimate!"

A few minutes later, I called James and the German girl over and we started playing seven on seven. I was introduced to Luke, the gray-haired Frenchman who had first approached me, and three of his kids. Guillum was already a great player, especially since he was only 13. Marion, home for the weekend who attends college in Whangerai, had a wicked forehand. Tomas, a handsome sixteen-year-old wearing an earthy orange shirt, was the powerhouse player, always open and skying everyone. Their mother Catherine watched from the sidelines providing water for anyone who needed it.

We had so much fun I asked if they wanted to play again tomorrow. The next day at 5 we met again at the field, this time joined by two Italian boys staying at the hostel.

Again we arranged to meet the following day. Unfortunatly it was raining, and this time James and I couldn't convince anyone in the hostel to come.

We trudged over barefoot in the rain to the field, where the reliable French family had arrived. It looked like the sky might open up at any minute, so instead of getting drenched in the rain (which also probably would have been fun) Luke invited us to visit his farm. We hopped in his manual jeep and the boys raced us on their bikes, their orange florescent vests visibly reflective even in the rain.

We drove about 2k down the main road and turned down a dirt road. Luke stopped at a neighbors house to pick up a huge barrel of rotten tomatoes which he feeds to the pigs.

Luke's family lifestyle is more sustainable than anything I'd ever seen or heard of before. His property is just a strip of land, maybe 2 acres by 8 acres, and in five years he has transformed it into a source of food for his family. The only food they buy at the grocery store is flour, which they use to make their own bread. In addition to their vast gardens and orchard, they have many animals. Their single cow supplies the whole family with milk, cheese, and butter. We met their geese, ducks, chickens, sheep, and we even got to hold a baby goat!

They are a very traditional family, and have very little technology besides electricity - no cell phones or computers. None of the kids have email addresses or facebooks. They mow the lawn with a scythe. 

After the tour, James borrowed gumboots and headed with Luke to milk the cow. (He had never milked a cow before, but I remembered doing it as a child on a family trip to Europe). I played ping pong with the boys, who obviously had a lot of practice - I only managed to beat Guillum by a tiny margin after a tiebreaker game, and I had little chance against Tomas. Then I played their dad Luke, and got completely annihilated. Oh well, it was fun!

James returned with a tall glass of fresh raw milk, still warm from the cow. A few minutes later Catherine called us in for dinner - butternut squash soup, homemade bread with rich, delicious butter, and flan for dessert. The food was hearty and filling.

Luke drove us back to town and we thanked him. Maybe we will come back to their farm someday and WOOF - work on the farm in exchange for food and accommodation. That would be fun!

 I've never known anyone with this kind of lifestyle. It's comforting to know that there are other ways of living besides the one's that I've grown up seeing. Traveling opens my eyes to new people, new places, new ideas - it is just as educational (if not moreso) than university.

Also, as an amazing coincidence, a few weeks later when we were in Whangerai, we were eating sushi downtown and who is riding her bike by in her flourescant orange vest but Marion! We had a nice visit, she showed us around and we tossed the frisbee.

I hope to come back to New Zealand someday and visit all the friends we made, like the Bourdins, and see how they are doing.

Amber Skydives!!!

Check it out! It gets cool around the second minute if you don't want to watch all 6 minutes.  My Hungarian guide took this entire video with a camera attached to his wrist.

I would shorten it and change the music but I don't have time right now. Any song suggestions? 

Sam suggested "Falling" by the Beatles.

Skydiving!!!

Pre-skydiving

Watching other skydivers

Getting all geared up!

 

Video to come as soon as I figure out how to upload it!

Philip the Crazy German

 He had been living at the hostel for 3 months working at Orangewood, the local company here that employs backpackers in various kiwi related jobs. Philip was insane and super fun to be around. He travelled with fishing poles, a guitar, and a huge backpack. He used to have a surfboard too but he sold it before he started hitchhiking south. Would you pick this guy up? 

Mangonui Fish Shop

Its a famous shop with fresh fish caught earlier that day. You get to eat literally right above the harbor.

Another beach near Kerikeri

 

Exploring Kerikeri

We borrowed the hostel car to take a scenic trip around Kerikeri, which is in the Bay of Islands. 

Its a popular tourist destination for the serene beaches and scenery, but since it isn't summer yet we saw very few people.

 

The Irish!

 Jan

 and Davie were travelling together and stayed at KeriCentral with us.

They're a lot of fun. I hope we run into them again.

And a bonus photo of Kerikeri! 

Sam's Photo Shoot

I took some pictures of Sam for his acting resume.

This is how he felt when we first started.

 Things got worse from there.

 Then he started to open up.

 

 

Picnic on North Head

Picnicing on North Head, the volcano right behind the house where we were staying in Devonport. It was a beautiful day!

We had chess, books, a hackysack... what more could you ask for?

Kiwi Packing

Yesterday morning I was eating breakfast when Tony, the owner of the hostel we are staying at, came in.

"Hey, ya wont a job?" He's from Wales.

"Sure, why not? What is it?" I ask.

"Kiwi packing."

An hour later I'm driving the hostel car to Orangewood, a company that packs kiwifruit from local growers. Celine, a French girl also staying at our hostel, gives me directions in her heavy accent. James is left back at the hostel, where we have been working in exchange for accomodation, to clean up.

I was told that only girls are allowed to sort kiwifruit because boys handle them too roughly. 

After an introduction and safety video, we don plastic aprons and hats and stand in a big wherehouse with 10 other girls, mostly from Germany. (The majority of tourists I've met in New Zealand are German. I'm not sure why.) We are taught the technique: pick up two kiwifruit, flowered ends up, inspect the top, bottom, twirl them in your hand, gently feeling for any soft patches with your fingers, and then give it a firm squeeze - but not too firm! - to see if its soft. It's actually quite difficult and takes a lot of concentration. A tiny soft spot called a rot that is usually invisible can cause the whole box to go rotten.

The first day wasn't bad. But by the second day, we were expected to go faster and make fewer mistakes. Our boxes were checked by supervisors and we were told how many bad ones we let slip. It can be a bit stressful, as you're trying to sort as fast as you can but not make any mistakes.

I've been trying to look on the bright side - at least the radio is on.  I'm making new friends and learning new things. And the big one: think of how many people in the world have to do this kind of job full time! For just a week, I can get a taste of what life is like for a huge percentage of the world.
 
It's scary how much waste is produced. The fruit varies dramatically in quality depending on the grower.
One grower today had beautiful small goldish fruit; about 80% of their kiwis were acceptable. But the batch before that was splotchy and moldy and we have to throw away most of them. At the end of the day there are car-sized crates filled with reject kiwis, most of which only have tiny blemishes. We took a few bags back to the hostel. I head that they feed the rest to pigs.

I've met a few interesting people so far. Stephen* only has one year to go before his retirement. He was helping me stack boxes (a much better job that sorting kiwi because you get to move around more and are not constantly being scrutinized by the authority). Stephen used to own a flower shop but it went out of business after 10 years, so about 7 years ago he came to work for Orangewood. He seems quite bitter about his current job but still jokes about it. He has grandkids who live in Auckland, who visit "when their parents have time." He has been thinking about moving to Auckland to be closer to them, but "who wants to live in Auckland?"

I started talking to Karina* during the 'smoko' (thats what they call breaks because so many people smoke!). She lives down the road with her husband and 2 kids, ages two and four. They moved to New Zealand from Peru, where she owned a computer repair shop. Her business was was going well until it got robbed. Now she owes a lot of money back on the loan that she took out. (I'm not sure if she had insurance.) She has to work at Orangewood to support her entire family. We make minimum wage, which is $13.50 NZD per hour (about 10 USD).

Besides the job itself, it's an interesting experience. I like talking to people from different countries. But sorting kiwis is really boring. I wont be too upset if we decide to leave before the week is up.

New Zealand Book Reviews

We've had a lot of time to read so I've read a few books. I just started "In the Time of the Butterflies" by Julia Alvarez which is very good so far!

"Dune"
Frank Herbert
A
In one of my creative writing classes, we gave presentations on our favorite authors and shared excerpts from their books with the class. (I chose 'The Arrival' by Shaun Tan). One of my closest friends in the class Monika chose a selection from Dune, a fight scene when Paul is fighting one of the native Fremen. Reading the scene out of context was adventure enough. Describing hand-to-hand combat in writing is very difficult - it's much easier to watch Jackie Chan - but Herbert did a great job.

So when I reached that scene in the book I was so excited, I understood the context and it was a bazillion times better!

I have foolishly proclaimed, "I don't like science fiction. It's not what I write." The first time I met James' brother Sam we were having this discussion, and Sam reminded me of an important lesson. He said something like this: "How do you know what you write? Don't limit yourself."

Reading "Dune" reminded me that it is not good to classify yourself as a certain type of writer. Along the same lines, I don't think it is wise to tell yourself that you dislike a certain type of food and then never eat it again. Maybe your tastes will change. Maybe it will be cooked in a certain way that makes it delicious. For me, "Dune" was that delicious reminder that science fiction can be fantastic.

PS: I think "The Cloud," a city-funded hangout promoting tourism during the Rugby World Cup, looks like one of the sandworms from Dune.


"As The Earth Turns Silver"
Alison Wong
B+
I was excited to find some historical fiction about New Zealand in the bookcase here. "As The Earth Turns Silver" is the emotional journey of Katherine, a Kiwi woman in the early 1900's trying to feed her two kids after her abusive husband drunkenly stumbles into a river and dies. Katherine buys her groceries from the Chinaman's grocery stand, which is cheaper than the other stores. The racism towards Chinese immigrants at the time was astonishing; one man was shot in the back of the head by Lionel Terry (a true story) a notorious racist who went to prison for murder.

A complicated and secret romance unfolds between Katherine and the kind Yung-san, one of the owners of the grocery store.

This book helped me understand what life was like when New Zealand was just forming. Much of the racism towards Asians has dissipated, but it will be interesting to see what I notice as my journey through New Zealand continues.

Auckland Botanical Gardens

Our friend Jeanette took us on a tour of the Auckland Botanical Gardens!