NEW ZEALAND WON THE RUGBY WORLD CUP OF 2011!!
The whole town plus several more gathered together for an event that would go down in New Zealand history; the final match of rugby between New Zealand and France. The townies came at least an hour early to make sure they found a seat to their liking. "Tall people in the back or to the side!" However, 99 percent of those who populated the pub at this time were considerably drunk. Considering this, it was every man for himself. Jed was decked out and ready to go, wearing the New Zealand flag as a cape and a glass of Tui (New Zealand beer) in hand. I obviously had to catch up, therefore immediately ordered a glass of Celtic, adding to my running tab of God knows how much.
The match was starting. The voices of all the drunks, the wide eyed children, and the newcomers to the game of rugby cheered at the top of their lungs as Richie McCaw made his entrance, leading the team onto the field. The two teams formed in their appropriate positions, beginning with the National Anthem. Next, the All Blacks put the French right in their place by performing the traditional Maori dance that ended with the players showing mostly the white of their eyes and an incredibly intimidating tongue sticking out. Pure thrill was the only thing pumping through my veins as the match started, hoping to God that the All Blacks would win. The first half consisted of beers, New Zealand scoring, players diving for the ball, giving up any inhibitions, and more beers. "There are French supporters amongst us..." a bearded man whispered to me, pointing out a couple of serious faces.
Fifteen minutes left. France's score: seven. New Zealand: eight. Five minutes later, the Kiwis in the pub started shaking their heads at the All Blacks. "Their just chewin' up time now!"
Finally, the match was over and all the ecstatic supporters in the pub went completely wild. Everyone including myself jumped for joy, waving flags, slapping each others hands, smiles stretch from one ear to the other. New Zealand won with one point's difference.
It's going to be a good month with all these Kiwis in such proud, jolly moods.
Monday 24 October 2011
Wednesday 19 October 2011
Greetings From Jail
After spending a couple nights in jail (hostel) in Christchurch, I hopped on the West Coast Shuttle to Greymouth where I met up with my volunteer coordinator. We then sped away in the volunteer van up and down windy roads. This was not contributing in a beneficial way to my already upset stomach from the previous hectic bus ride through what I thought could only have been middle earth. On the way, we stopped to pick up my groceries for the week at the local market. I was tired and tried to sort through all the unfamiliar products, deciding to get some ham for the lunches I'd pack during the week I approached the counter with confidence asking, "Can I please have a pound of ham?" Surprise and confusion tugged at the woman's visage. I was then tossed back into reality where I figured out I was not in America anymore. "I'm sorry. Forgot where I was for a second. You can just give a me a weeks worth." We shared a laugh and I continued on to fill my cart with vegetables, crispy apples, and other necessary items, considering my $75 limit.
Another set of windy roads took us to the volunteer house nestled in Punakaiki, a town consisting of at the most sixty people. One road, one cafe, one pub, and a crafts shop put this little town together. My volunteer coordinator showed me to the house and helped me with my bags. Shortly after, I found myself staring blankly at myself in the mirror. What have I gotten myself into? I was the only volunteer this week, however there will be two more Korean volunteers coming next Friday. The silence hit me hard. Culture shock, home sickness, whatever you want to call it, crept into my consciousness without permission. I was never one to thrive off being alone. I always loved the lively energy of people surrounding me.
Exhausted and not feeling up to par, I thought it best to let the hot water from a shower clear my head. Once physically and emotionally cleansed, I cocooned myself into my sleeping bag and read myself to sleep.
Thursday here now. Came up quick. The surreal views of the beaches, cliffs and rugby players here make me go weak at the knees.
All this past week I have been working with Kiwis, running around an enclosed forest along with one Kiwi man, one Kiwi lady, and a Kiwi dog. Here in New Zealand, the people are called Kiwis as well as their native bird who is endangered. The Kiwi bird, being as old as the dinosaurs, roam around at nighttime and burrow during the day. Jo, the Kiwi lady, led us on what seemed to be a wild goose chase, holding up a tracking device so that we could locate and measure the birds' improvements. I had never seen a Kiwi before. The little puff ball that Jo tugged out from underneath the bush had a long bill and webbed feet. It was about the size of a chicken at the time, but these are just babies. After finishing up with the measurements and making our way back out through the thick New Zealand trees, I felt quite special to have had the chance to work with such rarely seen creatures. Not many New Zealanders have ever seen a Kiwi.
Been here now for six nights, four of which have been spent at the local pub. Quite a happening place for such an itty bitty town. Being such a frequent face in the pub, I now have a running tab. First night there I met Judith, the bartender from Scotland living with her Kiwi man. Then there was Stephan, the architect who was very insistent that I pronounce his name as SteFan, SteVen was simply unacceptable. We shared several beers, laughs, and many conversations about silly Americans, photography, and why I haven't illegally crossed the border into Mexico yet. Next I met Jed, a local surfer boy finishing up high school who felt so inclined to teach me some Argentenian dance moves, morphing my culture experience a wee bit more.
At the moment I am a fierce learner of Rugby, being as it is the World Cup and New Zealand is in the lead. Sunday is the final game, and I've heard that if New Zealand doesn't win, then the whole country goes into a deep depression, moping about everywhere. However, if they win, it will be a fantastic place to be the next month or so. I hope for the latter.
Another set of windy roads took us to the volunteer house nestled in Punakaiki, a town consisting of at the most sixty people. One road, one cafe, one pub, and a crafts shop put this little town together. My volunteer coordinator showed me to the house and helped me with my bags. Shortly after, I found myself staring blankly at myself in the mirror. What have I gotten myself into? I was the only volunteer this week, however there will be two more Korean volunteers coming next Friday. The silence hit me hard. Culture shock, home sickness, whatever you want to call it, crept into my consciousness without permission. I was never one to thrive off being alone. I always loved the lively energy of people surrounding me.
Exhausted and not feeling up to par, I thought it best to let the hot water from a shower clear my head. Once physically and emotionally cleansed, I cocooned myself into my sleeping bag and read myself to sleep.
Thursday here now. Came up quick. The surreal views of the beaches, cliffs and rugby players here make me go weak at the knees.
All this past week I have been working with Kiwis, running around an enclosed forest along with one Kiwi man, one Kiwi lady, and a Kiwi dog. Here in New Zealand, the people are called Kiwis as well as their native bird who is endangered. The Kiwi bird, being as old as the dinosaurs, roam around at nighttime and burrow during the day. Jo, the Kiwi lady, led us on what seemed to be a wild goose chase, holding up a tracking device so that we could locate and measure the birds' improvements. I had never seen a Kiwi before. The little puff ball that Jo tugged out from underneath the bush had a long bill and webbed feet. It was about the size of a chicken at the time, but these are just babies. After finishing up with the measurements and making our way back out through the thick New Zealand trees, I felt quite special to have had the chance to work with such rarely seen creatures. Not many New Zealanders have ever seen a Kiwi.
Been here now for six nights, four of which have been spent at the local pub. Quite a happening place for such an itty bitty town. Being such a frequent face in the pub, I now have a running tab. First night there I met Judith, the bartender from Scotland living with her Kiwi man. Then there was Stephan, the architect who was very insistent that I pronounce his name as SteFan, SteVen was simply unacceptable. We shared several beers, laughs, and many conversations about silly Americans, photography, and why I haven't illegally crossed the border into Mexico yet. Next I met Jed, a local surfer boy finishing up high school who felt so inclined to teach me some Argentenian dance moves, morphing my culture experience a wee bit more.
At the moment I am a fierce learner of Rugby, being as it is the World Cup and New Zealand is in the lead. Sunday is the final game, and I've heard that if New Zealand doesn't win, then the whole country goes into a deep depression, moping about everywhere. However, if they win, it will be a fantastic place to be the next month or so. I hope for the latter.
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