That’s all folks - I’m leaving New Zealand in a matter of hours. I hope that you’ve enjoyed reading and taking a small glimpse at my travels abroad. I will most likely be posting a few things here and there when I return, but my writing will move to the primary blog, as I mentioned before.

I’ll be travelling some 28 or so hours - in a single day. Let’s hope I make it out alive.

See you on the other side!

I learned last night that my grandfather passed away. From what I understand, his condition had wavered during my study abroad — some days were better, but it appeared that his body was in decline. I was already thinking about the stories I was going to tell him, and the photos I wanted to show (even though he probably would not have been able to see very much because of his eyesight) Few days passed when I didn’t think about him, but it was reassuring in small part to learn from my Dad that he, though uncomfortable, appeared to be in little pain. I can still remember visiting him for the last time, before I left — he told me that he would try his best to hold out until I returned. I told him that was nonsense: he’d be up and about in a short while and I’d have lots to show and tell when I came back to Boston. I could never imagine that the short embrace and firm handshake we shared would be our last. I will miss him.

I anticipated that it would be difficult, psychologically, to transition from NZ to the US, but since hearing this news, my thoughts have been with my family.

I didn’t intend for this travel blog to become particularly personal, but I feel that this is certainly an exception. Once again, my two seemingly disparate worlds have collided. This is our world, that we share, after all.

Here there is quite a bit of commotion, people moving out - more people moving in tomorrow for the summer sessions. I don’t have much to do, some cleaning here and there and a bit of packing. I plan on heading downtown again to snap a few photos and maybe up to campus to do the same. For now, I’ll post some random photos from the last few days: Wellington Zoo, the harbor, a rainy day, and the Wellington International Ukulele Orchestra.

… really?

Yes. I know. This is expected - I knew it would be and even prepared myself for it. Well, my all too brief adventure in New Zealand is rapidly winding down: my flatmates are boxing up their things, prepping for moves of their own. I’m packing and re-packing, partly making sure I won’t have to pay a ridiculous overweight surcharge at the airport, but mostly because I’m getting anxious and, yes, even packing is a bit more reassuring than dawdling in contemplation or scrambling to do anything and everything.

There are things I haven’t seen. I never made it out to WETA Studio, though this is not really my fault: they don’t allow tours of their facilities because of the confidential nature of their work (trust me: I received about four separate responses to my e-mail inquiry.) I think I only covered about 2% of Te Papa, the free national museum here in Wellington. I didn’t spend enough time going to nightclubs and checking out the music scene - but my flatmates reassure me that most local bands aren’t that great anyways. I should have taken a few of the ferry rides from the harbor to explore some of the islands just a few minutes off the coast. I should have spent more time relaxing in the botanical gardens instead of doing schoolwork; I probably could have got away with doing a lot less (sorry Mom and Dad.) I could still go swimming, but the weather is looking nasty for the next day or so. I should have taken more photographs, approached more strangers, asked more questions to anyone and everyone: what is New Zealand? Who is New Zealand?

But then, I remember. I remember that I’ve made some excellent friends here — some Americans, but mostly Kiwis. I know that I will always remember these people: the crazy film lecturer, the tutor who dropped f-bombs left and right, that guy who works at the library and always hits on girls when they check out or that guy I always see with his poodle (Is he blind? We may never know.) I remember feeling so in touch with the world around me, or so self-aware that I wanted to disappear. I remember that day when, walking back to my flat from class, I first felt like this place was my home. I was humming on the same frequency as the rest of the city. I was here.

We are all affected by our surroundings, whether we realize it or not - whether we like it or not. Some of us welcome that feeling, the realization. Others shun it out of fear, or perhaps frustration. Or maybe it’s all too much to just think about your place in the world. Where do we fit? Do we? I can’t say that my experience in New Zealand has provided any answers to these questions, but it certainly has left me feeling more connected - on a global scale. I feel more ambitious about travel and would love to do more of it. I will, in fact, be traveling again next week (to London, to visit my girlfriend who is studying there.) As an aside, I’ll be writing about that and all subsequent events/ramblings/opinions in what will become my main blog, here.

I will miss this place and the wonderful people I’ve encountered. NZ is the world’s youngest country and one of its youngest land masses as well: wild, unyielding and still, fortunately, uncompromised in certain spots. Sort of sums up my trip. There is still much to be done and lots to see, but I will have to save that for another time. After all, I may have jumped off a bridge, but I still have to jump out of a plane.

To quote a famous robot: I’ll be back.

And yes, I did set off fireworks the other day for the first time in my life. Thrilling really. Fortunately I do still have all of my limbs and digits.

Today is important for other reasons too… I feel like there’s something pretty big going on… can’t quite put my finger on it. Oh well.

I’m stuck between places - mentally, anyways. Physically, taking into account my current state of ambivalence and the 10,000 or so miles that separate me from Boston, that puts me somewhere…. in the Pacific Ocean. Which is what life in Wellington feels like right now. Aimlessness is not necessarily a bad thing, but it can be deadly if not dissuaded within a reasonable amount of time. Sure, I’m sad. New Zealand has been a fantastic, accommodating, warm and welcoming country with really generous people — some I’ve grown quite fond of. On the flip side, however, I couldn’t be more excited about coming home and heading back to school in Chicago. And yes, the prospect of enduring another winter isn’t appealing in the least. That said, those familiar friends and places still feel miles away and come with their own anxieties and apprehensions.

I’ll be executive producing a major concert event at NU in May (Dillo Day, with about 6,000+ attendees), returning to work in a new building at school (they relocated the film office), living in a new place (first apartment), potentially returning to work at a retailer that shall not be named, and getting back into the academic swing of things and facing the reality that I’m over the halfway hump in terms of college education. Scary. It should be a great ride.

It’s an exciting time for the country as well - Election 2008 fever has died down to more of a dull, “Let’s Get This S–t Over With” Roar - but there exists the very real possibility (if not certainty) that the United States of America will have a minority President. And that’s fantastic. The state of affairs in the US is far worse than it seems to most people and it will certainly be an uphill battle for whoever occupies the oval office, but there’s hope in the air. And though I could foresee the country disintegrating into a second civil war if a certain Republican nominee is elected, hope is still a powerful political asset.

Then there’s the frustrating aspect to all of this: I’m essentially missing this election. I missed all of the fanfare, the build-up and the excitement of the event. There’s a certain helplessness with being so far away, which is funny because being in this position also provides a whole lot of perspective - namely that Americans are incredibly self-centered, but that’s beside the point.

If we assume for an instant that I haven’t learned a great deal about NZ culture or society, or met a wide range of interesting people, or encountered some new and different ways of living, I’ve still come away with a better understanding of myself and my position in the world. Maybe not a better one, per se, but a different, enriched one. You could probably attribute this to a renewed sense of self as an American - what does it mean to be different? To be in the minority? The other? It’s a puzzling position to be in and one that most of us (us as in Americans) probably won’t encounter because, let’s be honest, America isn’t exactly the melting pot that it envisions itself as. Sure, we’ve all felt uncomfortable at some point: speaking in front of a large audience, being forced into an awkward situation, sitting in a chair for too long, etc. But what does it mean to feel uncomfortable and to feel this way because of where you’re from — not your neighborhood, or your city, because this does happen — but your country? What does it mean to feel self-conscious not about the way you speak, the way you carry yourself, but the way your country and your government represents itself in the global sphere?

Needless to say, it’s been an eye-opening challenge. Most people are genereally forgiving (at least here in New Zealand) and I can’t speak to any other parts of the world, really, but there is an overwhelming sense that if we don’t right this ship in the next few years and assert ourselves not as a global power — not as leaders of the free world — but as just a small piece of the world community, then we are headed for basically a nationwide collapse. To borrow a sports cliche, we’ve got to be team players, simple as that. But it never is, is it?

I certainly didn’t intend for this post, or this blog in general, to get very political but I thought these were observations worth pointing out and are among just some of the things I’ve noticed since being here. Still, I can’t believe how quickly time has passed and how little time I have remaining here in NZ. I will truly miss it.

Monday, October 20th

We spent the night in Franz Josef, visiting the town’s one bar and hoping that the rain would stop sometime — any time — soon. But, the next morning it was still pouring. That isn’t to say that it wasn’t unexpected (the area gets lots and lots of rain) but still a letdown. We were hoping to do some kind of glacial walk, but to no avail. Instead we did a short walk to the glacier’s ‘terminal face’ but from about 500m away it’s not particularly impressive. Plus, I had water in my shoes by that point and we just wanted to move on.

We continued North up the West Coast to Hokitika, a touristy town that boasts the highest number of crummy jade-shops per capita. I refused to buy anything, but I did get some fresh fudge from a little shop called Auntie Alice’s Fudge Kitchen — we watched them pour it into the mould. Pretty cool. But more importantly, the Red Sox were playing in Game 7 of the ALCS against the Rays, so I spent most of the day trying to reach my Dad and crossing my fingers… well, it didn’t work. The Sox lost, the rain kept pouring. It was a depressing day all around.

We kept driving for another hour or so and reached Greymouth, a drab industrial looking place and found our hostel for the night — a weird, maze-like place called The Duke. It was alright. We did find some good pizza though and managed to find the Monteith’s Brewery; we’d tour it tomorrow. Julie spent most of the night learning Backgammon from an Israeli fellow who had been travelling through India, Australia and now NZ. Pretty remarkable. I wonder how he pays for it…

Tuesday, October 21

Another dreary day from the start but starting to clear up. We booked a tour at the brewery and ended up being the only two on the tour, so it felt more like a private affair. It was really interesting to learn about the whole process — where they get their ingredients from, etc. and what gives their beer its flavour. It’s also amazing that there are only two primary brewers that basically run the show, making thousands of liters of the stuff on a weekly basis. Tasting afterwards was great. Our tour guide was incredibly well-versed in all things beer and she recommended a whole variety of NZ dishes for us to try with their different brews. I can’t honestly remember any of the combinations, but it’s something I plan on learning more about when I come back to the States.

After our tour we headed back East to Christchurch, this time cutting through Arthur’s Pass — some incredible views and even more kea. Wish I had taken more pictures but we were both a little burnt out. We arrived back in Christchurch late in the afternoon, went for one last stroll in the Botans and then grabbed some Chinese food for dinner. Bunked down in a small backpackers called Foley Towers and snoozed until our flight the next morning — back to Wellywood.

And, that’s all folks. It was a great trip overall. I was able to see some things for the first time that I wasn’t able to with the family and those things I saw for a second time seemed even more intruiging. It was a fitting end to my travels around the country. Until next time.

Enjoy the photos!

Friday, October 17th

Leaving St. Bathans, we decided that our next stop would be Milford Sound but we couldn’t make the drive in one go (about 9 hours) so we spent the night in Te Anau, a fair-sized town on the Eastern edge of the Fiordlands and about two and a half hours South of Milford. This was by far the best place that we stayed in: we got a flat-screen TV, our own bathroom and kitchenette for $45 each - kick-ass. Not much going on, though we did catch the tail end of the rugby match between Wellington and Southland: we won, though as probably the only Wellingtonians in the bar (called ‘The Moose’ oddly enough) we were definitely in the minority.

Friday, October 18th

Next day we vacated the premises by 10 AM and took off on the incredibly scenic drive up to the Milford Sound. This was some of the most breathtaking scenery I’d ever seen (not quite Grand Canyon, but close) — just raw, untamed nature. It’s seems so hard to find places like this anymore. I’ll let the photographs speak for themselves, but I will mention that New Zealand is home to a pretty unique bird called the Kea. These are alpine-climate parrots (I think the only in the world) that are incredibly curious: they’ll come right up to you, or your car and peck at your shoes or (more notoriously) rip the sideview mirrors off your car. The general consensus is that they like ’shiny things’ and, really, who doesn’t?

After driving through the world’s scariest tunnel - it’s probably only about 800m in length but feels like somebody just blew some dynamite and called it a tunnel - we arrived at Milford Sound and booked our ferry tickets through Cruize Milford. We were quite fortunate with the weather because the previous day we asked around and people were talking about the possibility of snow but we actually got an almost cloudless day — beautiful. The cruise around the sound was something else… the combination of snow-topped peaks and deep, blue water is awesome. There were thousands of waterfalls — some more than 400 or 500 feet — that cascaded down entire mountain sides, finally splashing into the water several hundred feet below. The photos don’t really do the place justice but serve as better examples than what I’ve written here.

After a full-day we buckled down and Julie put the pedal to the metal to get us back to Wanaka for the night — we basically made an eight hour drive in half the time. We grabbed a burger at a place called Red Star and then decided to catch a movie at Wanaka’s tiny, independently owned theatre — Cinema Paradiso. They were screening “The Edge of Heaven,” a Euro film similar to Babel that was pretty good. The most impressive thing, however, was the actual theatre itself: it was basically a giant living room with enormous, comfy chairs and couches. They even had a car body that was full of pillows for those who wanted to get that drive-in experience. You can get dinner served to you during the show or grab something to eat during the ten-minute intermission, a time when they change film reels — a move that Julie and I thought was pretty sly business practice. But the highlight of the night was when a family came in with six dogs, all little terriers. I love this place.

Julie and I decided that if our potential entertainment careers didn’t work out that we would start our own theatre with a similar setup. And dogs would be allowed. Brilliant.

Saturday, October 19th

I spent today on the ground. Julie jumped out of a plane. Enough said. Ridiculous. This was the one thing that she really wanted to do, and I was more than happy to oblige and NOT fall from 15,000 feet. I had already bungy jumped from 43m, I figured it was basically the same thing. Right?

After seeing her grow from a pin-head sized white dot to a full-fledged parachute-flying landing, I was almost willing to do it myself but we had already spent about 4 hours at the airfield. Yeah, that’s a reasonable excuse.

But I still stand by my reasoning: bungy jumping is more difficult and frightening because you have to jump yourself… and you can actually see where you’re going to land. There’s nothing more than some rubber bands to keep you from splattering yourself all over the riverbed below. I think I made the right choice (and I’ve still got $500 NZD in my pocket.)

Our final, rain-soaked days in the next installment - and a glacial letdown.