Sunday, March 31, 2013

Phase Change

When we were in Thames, Alex got a call from Nicky, a tech recruiter in Wellington. He seemed optimistic about Alex finding work in software in Welly, so we started moving south right away.




We set up camp for the first weekend in Mangakino Recreation Reserve in the center of the North Island. We parked on a dirt road between Lake Manaetai and the sunburnt Mangakino golf course. The weather was warm and breezy. Alex wanted to prep for interviews in a quiet spot for a couple of days, and this was an ideal spot.


While Alex got to work, I took a walk to explore the town. Mangakino was founded in the 40s to help build the dam system for power. It was bustling back then, but once the construction of the power system was completed, the place shrunk down to more or less to one stop light, a Four Square supermarket and a fish 'n' chips.

On my walk back to Alex and Patty, I saw a yellow labrador in the distance off its leash heading my way. I was excited to say hello but as I got closer I discovered that it wasn't interested in meeting me. It wasn't a dog, either...

When I got too close for comfort its hoofs broke into a sprint, crossing the street and off in the direction of the fish 'n' chips.
At night I got alex to put his studies away and come out and play.



When we got down to the Wellington area we established our home base at the Ngatitoa Domain. It was comforting that the setting was pleasant because this time was probably our most stressful since the first week in NZ. We have become damn good at living on a shoestring, but food and fuel are expensive and by the end of February we were rapidly burning through the remnants of our savings. We needed money and we had no idea where it would come from. It was a time of uncomfortable awareness of the reality that is always true: good, bad or otherwise, we have no idea what's to happen next.




We got to know the Ng Dom well. We stayed there about three weeks, a record length of time that we'd stayed any single place since we left the states. It had a public toilet, a water spigot and a quiet beach, all of this for free. We couldn't ask for a better hold-over home to soothe our anxieties of the future.

My woes were put into perspective by our one-footed oyster catcher neighbor...
Video for non-mobile devices
If my favorite sea-side friend can survive with only one foot in this big-bad world, I could find a job in Porirua!
The grounds at Ng Dom are maintained by one man and his jack russel terrior, Sammy. Where the man goes, Sammy dutifully follows.



We found a network of trails that go along the coast and by this row of adorable boat houses.
At one point during these weeks, Patty's battery started to die out of nowhere. We had to have her jump started several times in a matter of a few days and we began to worry there was a problem. This was ultimately resolved by a mechanic giving her a close look, tightening some wires and giving us a long, full charge.

What was more interesting than the battery was getting stuck for a weekend. There is another "domain" down the road from Mana in the next suburb over, Plimmerton. We were in the midst of driving a rotary on our way home from a grey-water dump when Patty stalled and wouldn't start again. A couple driving home from a wedding helped us push her into a park 100 meters away. It was a Friday and garages would be shut until Monday morning, so we got as comfortable as we could and stayed put.

Sunday was a series of soccer games from 8am to 5pm ranging from teams of sharply uniformed eight-year-old girls to full-grown men. During this span we were crowded intimately among a constant revolving circus of mini vans and pony tails. This motivated to cut out for a five-mile run along the coast away from strollers and side-line sausages.


When Patty was up and running over these weeks of hunting, we spent a lot of time in the library in Porirua scanning the web for jobs. On a whim I remembered I could be qualified to teaching swimming and I applied to three pools in the area. A few days later I heard back from one. That afternoon I had an interview and I left with a job.


I started working the following Monday. Fear evaporated into celebration. Small as it might be, we had an income on the way. It was time to look for a place to live and get Patty ready to get back on the market.


We looked for bus routes and trains that could get Alex to Welly and me to Eastern Porirua with reasonable ease. We narrowed down areas and searched the "flatmates wanted" section of TradeMe, NZ's Craigslist/eBay. There were only three possible places at the time, and one of them called us back. We now live in Titahi Bay with Sarah in her three bedroom house on a hill in a quiet neighborhood.

Just a few days before we moved in, Alex got a contract position as an iOS developer in Wellington. (Yay!) He started on Friday and moved us in on Saturday morning while I taught lessons at the pool.



While we wait to get paid, we've entertaining ourselves with library books and jig saw puzzles. We have a growing list of when-we-have-money-we'll-buy items: clothes without holes, haircuts, etc. But we'll have to wait to splurge a few more days. 

It has taken me ages just to get this much out and I still have more I could say. To sum up, the gist of our overall news is this: we'll be living here, relatively stationary, until the end of July. In August we plan to push off for new adventures for the rest of 2013. 

This is a time to lay low and collect travel funds. We are already experiencing culture in NZ from new angles than we had on the road. My hope is to post in the future about things we notice from our American/French perspectives that incite my fingers to type. 

Do you have any questions about what it is like to live here? Maybe you can spark my imagination on something to examine? Just a thought.

Until next time, big hugs and bisous. I miss you, Berkeley.

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Our time at Te Mo


Our first night on the Coramandel Peninsula was at Broken Hills DoC campsite. With a privacy in the trees by the river, this spot was a heck of a lot more scenic than the parking lot in Matamata. There was even a swimming hole (as seen in Alex's picture of "us" enjoying it. I couldn't get him in.) It was tough to leave, frankly, but the following day we were due to start our WWOOF job at Te Moata.
We had a little auto trouble en route. The air valve stem starting hissing air and flattening the tire. We had enough pressure to drive to the closest service station...that was closed. It just so happened to be a national holiday. I explained our situation to a women in the gas station and she said "that's no good, huh?" We got lucky though, a man working with her came out and heard our situation and he told us that if we took the tire off he'd fix it for us. Phew! $15 later we were back on the road with a shiny new stem.


Te Moata is located in the hills overlooking the Pacific on the east side of the Coramandel Peninsula. The entire retreat center consists of 344 hectares of regenerating bush ('bush' being the kiwi word for forest.) The place runs entirely off the grid by solar power, gas and a wood-burning boiler. It was initially opened in the 80s as an insight meditation center. At that time it ran Vipassana retreats on donation. Since then it has broadened its scope to involve other types of retreats like yoga and permaculture and has had to start charging a base-line fee for participation.





When we arrived we stayed in "the cottage." This is the spot Te Mo wwoofers call home. It's got several beds, a big bathroom complete with gorgeous view from the toilet, and a kitchen/living room. We shared it with Heather, our newest American friend.




The main center is further into the valley, connected to the cottage by a path through the bush. The courtyard and fish pond are the center of a wheel of buildings: the ktichen/dining room, the dorms, bathrooms, a walking hall, a meditation room and a loungey library of sorts
We did most of our work in the kitchen...chopping, shredding, cleaning.


During retreats meals were delicious and vegetarian. We even had truly French desserts made by a professionally-trained pâtissier who has graduated from wwoofer to boyfriend of the cook. Between retreats we had free reign to all the food in the pantry to whip up our own concoctions. The commercial set-up was for sure a treat coming out of Patty's "kitchen."


Nestled inside the ferns and flax is a secret garden where lots of flowers and food grows for the center.

Outside the center there are more plush huts for retreat teachers, and yogis that pay extra. Alex and I made up "Santara," where our retreat teacher stayed in.







There are several remote huts reachable only by foot. The land is covered in tracks, often with rope holds to make passage possible.



The water for the center is pumped up from a stream in the bush. There are several waterfalls and swimming holes within its banks stretching deep into the property.

One afternoon after a hard day of work together we made a group trip down for a swim.

Even this was made into some work with some literal bushwhacking with a couple of machetes to clean up the trail.
Heather is working to toughen up her paws NZ style by giving barefoot tramping a go. Kiwis, especially in the warm north island, are barefoot more often than not. While it would be illegal in the US, it is common practice to grocery shop without shoes. Our retreat teacher told us he spent the first 8 years of his life without wearing shoes. Children are often seen in toe of their parents on sidewalks with their little piggies out free. It's a cultural norm. I dig it. Sure there's fear of stepping on something scary, but there it brings a mindfulness to walking and intimate contact with the ground.

The morning Heather left for her next chapter we celebrated her with Pancakes. I whipped up the batter from my mom's recipe and Alex cooked 'em. It was his idea. As soon as we realized we had a kitchen at our disposal with all sorts of dry ingredients, Alex exclaimed "we can make pancakes!" I think they are his favorite part of American cuisine. He made these ones with golden kiwi and banana and fried them in butter. Delicious. Heather approved and Alex felt rightly proud.




Like all the tracks we tramped on in this country, Te Moata's is equipped to kill unwanted mammals. Eager to get some kilometers in exploring the trails, we accepted the job offer to help check the trap line.

We also took staple guns out and tacked up poisons to the trees to kill rats and possums. I want to own up to doing this job, but even writing this makes my stomach turn over.

When I am asked why I don't eat meat, I often site industrial opposition, a desire to avoid growth hormones, etc. These things are true, but my answer is often to simplify an interaction with a meat eater who I don't care to get into it with. At heart, probably the biggest reason for my diet is that I don't like the idea of animals dying for me when it's not necessary for my survival. The idea of killing a creature hurts and because of that, I try my best to live by the precept of doing no intentional harm. Of course I wash my hands and kill microbes, I unknowingly stomp on insects, I eat eggs laid by hens that are probably a lot less "free" than the carton suggests and so on, but stapling up poison for the explicit purpose to end a life is the most grievous act I think I've done in a long time.

We all want the birds to live. It was a tragically shortsighted idea to introduce mammals that now threaten them. But taking their lives by introducing poisons into the bush and calling this "conservation"? It's certainly not a 'leave no trace' strategy.

After meditating for a couple of days on retreat, I came closer to the complexity of the kiwi ecological predicament in the emotional sense. I asked our teacher about the issue. He's kiwi and follows teachings of the Buddha's, so he was sensitive to my conflict. (I am going to paraphrase his answer, but from what I remember...)

He said most people harden themselves to this experience and feel nothing for the lives that are taken, which leaves them that much more disconnected from the natural world of which they, too, are a part. Feeling the pain of the act, on the other hand, keeps a person in touch with what is happening and, in a sense, honors all life. He pointed out that killing introduced species is for the greater purpose of preserving the life, and can be held in that context. This answer has satisfied me.

Speaking of our teacher, his name is Yanai Postelnik. He grew up in NZ but moved permanently to England many years ago. He is a resident teacher at Gaia House in Devon and travels annually to teach at IMS, the center in Massachusetts where I sat three months in 2011. Alex and I both loved him. It was such a small group that we were able to get to know him personally and even got hugs when he left. This is not typical at insight retreats because they are usually much larger with more separation between students and teachers.

The retreat itself was five days in silence. We moved into the dorms and made nests in our own single bunks. Alex and I didn't so much as look each other in the eyes for the entire week, let alone speak. We were assigned several jobs throughout the day to support the retreat, but we were allowed to participate fully in the experience otherwise. It was such a treat. This was Alex's first retreat and I loved seeing him on it. He described having a profound experience of watching his mind. I, too, felt great to be in silence again for a few days.

Following the retreat we decided to move on from Te Mo and re-integrate into speaking as just us and Patty.
We went on to Thames, the "big town" about 40km from Te Moata. We did some laundry there, hit up Pac 'n' Save and paid $10 for a power spot behind the club house of the Thames Golf Course.

There we undertook our first ever yogurt-making experience. We have a tiny fridge that we don't run all the time, so we cannot keep things cold indefinitely. Being able to store "dry" yogurt that we can make fresh overnight is next to incredible. Inspired by the kitchen at Te Mo, we bought ourself an "Eaisyo" and some sachets of yogurt powder and made some delicious greek yogurt. We have eaten several kilos of yogurt since then. It's been a miracle change to our lifestyle, let me tell you.
And it's off to Wellie next for job prospects. We've already scored in this department, but I will save the details for the next post. Be well! Lots of love from us to you.