Sunday, 17 February 2013

Rotorua



I flew into Rotorua late-ish and spent the first night in a backpacker and felt like many people seem to be touring New Zealand without really seeing the place.  Everyone was jumping from one activity to the next, rafting, zorbing, jet boating, etc. It seemed as though they had a list of things to see and do; each had to be ticked off, but the worth came from the number of things rather than the actual activity.  That being said I waste countless hours going up and down snowy slopes, so what do I know. 

A good chunk of the next day was spent wandering around Rotorua looking at the hot springs in the area.  For those who don’t know Rotorua sits in the middle of the conveniently named Rotorua caldera and falls squarely in the middle of the Taupo Volcanic Zone (my general study area).   Essentially it’s in the middle of a volcano of similar nature to Yellowstone.   There’s a lot of hot water just under the surface as is evident by the steam coming out of the ground or storm drains.  Very few people are allowed to directly use this water.  There used to be a bunch of direct use, but it caused a significant draw down of features and boreholes were strictly enforced.




The end of the day found me hopping into a van full of undergraduate geology students and joining their field camp for the next several days.  I was sudo-TAing, mapping, and generally getting the lay of the land.  Apparently I ran into the most relaxed week of the trip, because there was a fair bit of swimming (we were mapping next to Blue Spring, which produces such optically clear water that the river actually appears blue; though it’s kind of hard to see in pictures and I'm too lazy to photoshop it) 



    

The last day with them we rafted Kaituna (famous for it’s 7m drop), mapped some hot springs,  and jumped off of a 7-8m bridge.  All that went swimmingly, but getting out of the water I somehow encountered a bit of metal that left a 1 cm long and ¼ cm deep gash on my knee.  I should have got stitches, but there wasn’t enough time before I needed to catch a bus to Wellington for Fulbright orientation.  Instead I cleaned it out to the best of my ability and steri-stripped it up (thanks WFR—Wellington hospital decided that I had done a good enough job that they’d rather not mess with it, though I did get a tetanus shot for my troubles.  Healing wonderfully).



Fulbright orientation was wonderful.  It provided a crash course to NZ history, botany, zoology, and cultural studies.   It’s really hard to sum up the week in a few words, but suffice it to say that I know much more about NZ than any other country (except of course the US).   One event of prominence was a stay at a marea, which is the Maori meeting hall.   Accompanying it was a history and cultural teachings of the Maori to the present.     While I cannot encapsulate a people in a few words, one thing that I really enjoyed was the structure of the marea the main beam represents the backbone and the rafters the ribs of a person.  It’s a really cool idea and I really enjoyed it. 



Waitangi day fell in the middle of the week and I spent it with a host family north of Wellington.  We (the couple, Leigh and Dale, Leigh’s parents, and their 5 yr and 7 mo old children) went walking around a preserve dedicated to the native flora and fauna of NZ.  I forgot my camera, but it was a great day.   I must say that I have only wonderful things to say about every Fulbrighter I’ve run into and I can only hope that someday I can open up my (non-existent) house to a kiwi coming to the states.  From orientation I was supposed to head into the field again, but there were some complications with the Phd student I was going to be following around, so instead I headed back to CHCH.

Sunday, 10 February 2013

Packing/Arrival


Disclaimer:   I generally dislike the idea of a blog; it seems a touch voyeuristic and up until now unnecessary.  However I have always wanted to keep a record of my Fulbright and now that I’m far enough away from home to make constant contact difficult.  The simplest solution, it seems, is to make that record pseudo-public.  Enough said.


Anyone who wandered by my house in the week or so before I left knew how much I was stressing on packing for this.   I didn’t want to be held back from adventures by the lack of gear, but I also really didn’t want to show up with a major shitload of stuff.   In the end I whittled it down into 3 checked bags (so 150 lbs, just a touch more than my body weight and counting a bike).  Not bad considering that I could be down here for up to 4 years (rationalizing...).   


The trip was about as uneventful as can be expected with a really neat moonset somewhere over the pacific.   The downside is that TSA deciding that my pack didn’t really need two shoulder straps, but I was able to stitch it back together.  When I arrived in Christchurch (CHCH) I was met by a previous Fulbrighter, Tim, who had graciously offered to let me stay at his house while I got settled.    Tim is a non-conventional businessman (meaning that we get along wonderfully), who used to own The Hotel Off the Square before it was red-zoned post earthquake. 

I’m very impressed with CHCH.  It is a very bikable community and if I didn’t have grand plans to head into the mountains every so often I think that you could easily handle it without a car.   Tim showed me around some of the more shook up neighborhoods, which made me think a great deal about home ownership and general placement of homes.


Speaking of homes most of my week was devoted to finding one and trying to enroll in the university, both of which tasks I failed at miserably, so the hunt will go on once I get back to CHCH.    The housing market is really hard with so many people displaced by the earthquake.   Quite frequently a landlord will get 8-10 responses on the first day he posts the property.  It could be tricky, but I’m sure I’ll find someplace to live in time.

I took a break from house searching Saturday night and Sunday to spend some time with the lovely Emily Johnson (Whitman grad for anyone reading who doesn’t know her)  She’s in NZ on an agricultural internship and is placed, luckily, in Kaiapoi about 20 km north of CHCH.   We met up with some of her family friends and went to a standup/bingo feature of the buskers festival.  It was preformed in the Palette Pavilion, which is a really cool open air venue constructed entirely by volunteer efforts and made of wooden pallets painted blue.  It's on the site of one of a torn down building.   It was built to promote more music and arts performances and is just one example of the quirky and cool ideas that are springing up in the recovery. 

Sunday we went up to castle hill, at which the photo speaks for itself, and ended the day walking up the cave stream.  

 The name explains that one--a cave with a stream inside it.   You can hike from one entrance to the other and the water is quite warm from the time it spent on the sun-baked plain.  The day had its mishaps (I lost my glasses in the rushing stream water, props to Emily for not saying ‘I told you so.’)  From there I headed off to Rotorua to join with a group of American exchange students finishing up their field camp.   (more to come as I write it, playing catch up)