Some closing thoughts...

(From Tom) One of my first impressions on visiting New Zealand was how friendly the people were. They seemed open, honest, and cheerful. Everything was operated somewhat casually, but effectively.

Unfortunately, going from New Zealand back to America resulted in the opposite impression (makes logical sense, but was still somewhat of a shock to the system). Americans at the airports and on planes came off as brusque, mildly angry, and insensitive. I found one thing quite interesting; at the entry point to customs, there is a sign advertising a "pledge" to provide a pleasant welcome, courteous service, the personal touch; but as I watched the guards, I saw anything but this (with one exception). The Kiwis had lived up to the spirit of the sign; but the Americans, though they had written it down and advertised it, really failed.

This caused me to speculate further. I should preface by saying that as I was away, my respect for America grew; we have a lot of wonderful things and for the most part, our country is run very well. But, on return, I see some things that concern me. Aside from the aforementioned courtesy issues, some more general impressions stood out in my mind, which I can't necessarily substantiate with examples. Americans strike me as being fascinated with hierarchy. We chart the path to the top closely, and expect constant promotions; we carefully observe and judge what position someone is in. We are obsessed with management; management principles, techniques, books, managers, CEOs, and Presidents. I think the original plan was for us to be a distributed system (computer speak for leaving decision making and power to the smaller subdivisions, in this case individual voters); but I guess that like many people in history we have become fixated on the idea of a king; be it at the company manager level or the Presidency level.

Also, I see us as dedicated to competition. We have truly seen the benefits of free competition; many of the great things America has produced have been driven by this. But it seems we are ready to extend this to all areas of life; and I'm afraid we may be going too far. To what degree should the arts be shaped by market competition? (also, I think we start to devalue things that don't adapt well to competition, like the arts and personal relationships) What about Healthcare? Obviously, we want that to be results-based; but I think many studies show that we actually get the best results when we dump competition and provide the personal touch. (Perhaps it is best to foster competition in the drug industry, but not in the doctor-patient care industry) It's probably a stretch, but could the lack of courtesy and interest in each other I am observing be a result of our drive for hierarchy and competition? For after all, if it's really a competition, what are other people but standards to measure ourself against and possible competitors to be squashed?

It did seem that I met a lot of people in NZ that were pretty free to do their own thing; and flying over the US on the way back, I saw an obscene number of identical suburban housing blocks. Theoretically, we are all free to do are own thing; but are our devotions to competition and hierarchy binding us? It is hard to imagine anyone here living the lives of the Land family we couchsurfed with (heck, it's hard to imagine anyone opening up their homes to couch surfers); or the lives of the folks traveling around the world working as they go; or even the lives of Ian and Caitrona, who at one point left for a three-month trip to America without any guarantees that their jobs would be there when they got back. I think we may be a bit worse off despite greater material wealth if these are ties that bind us.

So, as soon as I have a place, it'll be up on couch surfing. I find a renewed conviction to be interested in my neighbor, and to live life less influenced by the patterns of the closed world around me (if it happens that I fit most of those patterns anyway, no problem; but I want to make sure that I'm not just blindly following them). I hope that I will realize that managing isn't the most important thing in the world, and that it's not about finishing ahead of your neighbor.

~ A pleasant day (with a brief interruption of sheer terror)

The call goes out from the hotel room. Today will be the day. Everyone quietly contemplates. Bungee lies ahead.

After booking tomorrow’s activity (helicopter ride to an offshore volcano, stay tuned) and tonight’s lodging in Rotorua, we were free to enjoy the day. We started out driving past Tongariro National Park. The area around this place is reminiscent of the American West; very desert-like; which is surprising to see after leaving forested coastline in the morning. The park is famous for its volcanoes, one of which (Mt. Ngauruhoe) was used as Mt. Doom in the Lord of the Rings movies. The volcanoes are beautiful; they stand apart from other mountains, so you see them rise from plain to peak. They have quite a bit of snow on them, which contrasts starkly with the desert in front.

I’ve always said that bungee jumping is something I’d have no problem with, but that I didn’t “need” to do it. I’d play it cool and casual, “no big deal”. First, you go out on the jump platform and get a view of the river, 154 feet below, that you’ll be jumping into. It looks blue, beautiful, and very far away. Then, you get in line and hand over hard-earned NZ dollars, for a ticket and a mark on your hand with your weight. Then, you queue for the jump. Ahead of you, you watch people that seem quite calm and happy react with absolute terror as they shuffle towards the end of the platform and really see what they have to do. But you still think, “no big deal, everybody’s safe, so many people have done this.” And then, suddenly, you are standing up, feet tied tightly to a bungy cord, and your eyes open wide with fear as the immediacy of jumping off this platform rushes upon you. NO WAY says brain. Oh my goodness gracious. But you do it, on the jumpmaster’s count, and never again will you say you don’t “need” to do it.

Bungee jumping was just great. All hands in our group participated and survived. It was just a great feeling to jump off this insanely-high platform, free fall for what seemed like a long time, and then rebound up and down for a little while until finally settling onto a raft below. Ben, the instigator of the whole thing, had to take a second count at the top and screamed like a Minnesota loon the whole way down. Next time I think I will too.

After this high, we were pretty beat. We ended the day walking around the Governer’s Gardens in Rotorua. This was a pretty spot; combination croquet grounds, rose garden, bird sanctuary, and geothermal area. I actually enjoy all the rose gardens in this country; they definitely give the place a quaint, yet civilized feel. We found an amazing Thai restaurant, and then retired to our cabin, looking forward to a helicopter ride tomorrow.

Tom

~ Tourism

I haven’t written for a week, so I want to try to give some general impressions of New Zealand, and our trip, as I have become a bit more acclimated.

First off, the purpose for this land seems to be tourism. We trekked over McKinnon pass on the Milford Track last week. The reason that McKinnon was searching for a pass in the late 19th century was not an improved trade route, or to discover new land; it was actually to facilitate tourism (essentially, to open up the hike we took for tourists). There are agriculture and industries here; but tourism seems to be the raison d’etre.

And for good reason. The views I saw today once again took my breath away, and gave me a real sense of wonder and awe. Our last stop for the day was a seal colony on the coast. We watched (and listened to) seals of all sizes in the wild. There were incredible views of a pounding blue-green surf stretching each way for miles (the wind was up, the waves were huge), with actual mountains in the same frame. It is pretty amazing to stand in a fairly isolated green pasture on a hill, taking all this in, and to see a sign with distances and directions to major cities; 12000 km to New York. You can imagine European explorers, so far from home, viewing and setting foot on this land.

This is definitely a place for driving; the roads are in good condition, tons of fun, and the only way to get anywhere. The road along the west coast here is by far the most beautiful I have ever driven on; offering hundreds of great views as it meanders up into the hills and then plunges back to the beach. Our group seems to do best when we motor along, pulling over for a hiking trail, lookout, or just a pasture every hour. Some pretty funny things can happen in random pastures; today Ben backed off a boardwalk while lining up a picture and fell into a fragile wetland; Tom got attacked by a Weka (their beaks are sharp); and we chased Pukekos and frightened sheep.

Food isn’t quite as good over here on the west coast; but motels are still inexpensive and clean. It is nice to be able to go along and not worry too much about procuring lodging and food. I think everyone has adapted better to each others’ habits (for example, Angela demands a long, drawn-out, full breakfast; whereas Tom insists on skipping breakfast and panics about stopping for lunch on time). We have less time pressure now (basically, just hit the ferry by mid-Sunday), so that helps. I think we’re all going to return to the states a bit more laid-back.

Sherlock Holmes is meant to be read aloud. The Hitler Book, maybe not so much. Good night from Lat. 42 S,

Tom

~ ohwow

(Authored by Tom) Yikes. Today, New Zealand ratcheted it up several notches. It cranked it to 11. It started out pretty mild; we decided to do a little shopping and then make our way down to Dunedin, in preperation for making it to Te Anua tomorrow. We had heard that it would take about 5.5 hours to reach Dunedin, depending on how many stops we made. The drive to Te Anua should take 3.5 from there.

So, after breakfast at a delightful little bakery, we initiated the process of parting with hard-earned NZ dollars. The store recommendation we had received proved to be a good one; the service was friendly and the prices weren't insanely unreasonable. We met an ex-Wisconsite working at the store; a gal who had moved to NZ three years ago and who had managed to nail the accent. The other clerk had a pretty good sense of humor; I would say a biting sarcasm that gets right to the point. I've noticed that in a few Kiwis, and I find it very refreshing. Overall, everyone seems very laid-back and kind; the humor makes it interesting. Anyway, Angela purchased a ridiculous-looking brown Merino Wool sweater (when everyone else told her she looked much better in the blue one); at least it's supposed to be pretty warm. Form will definitely follow function.

Further stops included the grocery store for backpacking and snack food (only 200 NZ dollars, about 140 US, for a whole lot of food), and a hardware store, so Patrick and Ben could feed their obsessions for NZ window and door latches.

Finally, at about 12:30, it was time to enter the NZ countryside. First; there are sheeps. Many, many sheeps. It is very difficult to restrain yourself from jumping the fence and burying your face in their thick, woolly wool. The country is very pretty, gently rolling pasture with tall evergreen hedges neatly trimmed in rectangles (often 20 ft. high). We drove for a few hours and stopped for lunch at Timaru, a pretty town where the road meets the Pacific ocean. Ben wanted to go look at the cliffs on the Pacific, and so we decided to stop for a little while.

So this is really where it began. The view we had was just wonderful. The Pacific was doing an azure-blue thing, with nice waves rolling in. On the left was a small peninsula with some picturesque NZ houses; on the right was a large tidal beach and a clean, colorful dock. Combined with the soft greens and yellows of the flora/fauna and the deep clouds, it made a breathtaking scene. I can't imagine living in a town with access to something like this. Plus, most of the buildings are so pleasant; "quaint" is really the word, with very pretty architecture and neatly manicured, colorful gardens.

After a great hike, and a good 10 minutes playing with a curved stick (ah, the simple pleasures of being on vacation), we took off for Dunedin. But now, more and more, the views out the car window included large green hills in the foreground and brilliant white peaks in the background. And then the road would turn a bit and we would see the shining blue Pacific. Back, and forth; back and forth. We stopped next at a place (I don't remeber the name) that we read had funny boulders.

This is definitely where it went to 11. Imagine the a wide beach to the left and right; muted tan sand and cool azure waves lapping on shore. At the edges of your vision are soft green, hilly peninsulas, jutting out into the sea. At your feet are iridescent snails and crisp white seashells. And, at one small place on the beach , there are wonderful spherical stones scattered about as if a giant moa laid her eggs. Words really aren't going to describe this place (or likely, the rest of the trip), but I thought I'd give it a try.

Ben began dreaming up a whole series of pictures with people balancing on the "eggs", doing cartwheels off the eggs, handstands on the eggs, shots making it appear that people were hatching from the eggs...After an hour of this and just walking along the most beautiful place that any of us had ever seen, we aimed to finish the drive to Dunedin.

The last hour was the best for car scenery. Again, high green rolling hills, this time with an incredible sunset. I love this place; it has the charm of England combined with beautiful mountains, rolling hills, and the Pacific.

We picked a hotel; hotels are always interesting here. WE found one that was "a three bedroom apartment" for $160 NZ (~120 American); it turned out to be huge, with a large great room with skylight and kitchen. No standard hotel form, really. Just crazy.

Pictures to be pposted later. Overall, I'm struck with a feeling that life is pleasant. On that note, I bid you good night,

Tom, Angela, Ben, Patrick