After six days of some intense togetherness, the five of us are still friends. At least, I think we are. Last Wednesday morning, I left for the Christchurch airport with Tori, Rachel, Hayley, and Moana. Having just found out about Ilam Village’s mandatory “task-based cleaning,” and overwhelmed with work, we were all ready to skip a few days of lectures. Our first wee disagreement—of many—arose over the time we needed to leave for the airport. I thought we needed to get to the airport a good hour and a half or so before the flight, but Moana insisted that we needed only to arrive half an hour before our flight was scheduled to leave. She even said that planes waited for people who were late! We ended up leaving the Flats around 10am, and, after riding two buses, arrived at the airport shortly after 11am. We didn’t have to wait in a queue to check in or to go through security. After we boarded the plane, I overheard the flight attendants discussing the two people they were waiting for . . . so the planes really do wait!
After a short and pleasant flight, we arrived in Rotorua, where Moana’s dad picked us up from the airport in the van he’d hired from the church where he works. Hayley, who says she isn’t religious, didn’t know what to make of it! Soon, we arrived in Tauranga, a port town in the Bay of Plenty where Moana’s parents live. According to lecturer Mike, the Bay of Plenty is the Bible Belt of New Zealand. While there were some traces of Christianity in the town, it certainly wasn’t at all like the American South and Midwest!
The next day, the other three Americans and I explored “The Mount” of Tauranga, the city’s big attraction. After some planning the night before and some criticism of the planning, we’d finally agreed on visiting “The Mount.” I’m still not too sure why it’s so special—it is, after all, just a random volcanic hill—but it did offer some good scenery. Tori and I walked around its perimeter while Rachel and Hayley tramped up to the summit. That night, we made Peter and Mary, Moana’s parents, an almost-authentic Mexican meal, complete with home-made tortillas and guacamole. I think I’ve now mastered the guacamole recipe—it was a hit!
The third day, we drove back to Rotorua, or Roto-Vegas, as the locals call it. On the way, we stopped at a giant kiwifruit to take pictures. We would later find out that the North Island has an astonishing array of enormous statues. Anyway, Rotorua is a famous tourist attraction because of its sulfur hot pools. Basically, there are little ponds with bubbling mud, and the entire town stinks of rotten eggs. We all agreed that the “play structure,” as Rachel calls it, was the highlight!
We spent our last day at McLaren falls, a park in Tauranga, and in Katikati, a nearby small town. That night, after we had dinner with Moana’s parents—Mary cooked heaps of food!—we made American s’mores for the Minsons. Rachel’s parents had brought graham crackers with them when they visited her, and I had authentic American marshmallows (although bunny-shaped) thanks to Mom’s Easter package. Neither essential ingredient can be found anywhere in the country! So, we roasted marshmallows and enjoyed s’mores Cadbury-style (in other words, with super thick and rich chocolate)! Moana is now determined to find a suitable substitute so she can continue the tradition. Then, to finish off the loveliness, we watched the newest version of Pride and Prejudice. Although it doesn’t live up to the 5-hour BBC version or do justice to the book, it was still comforting to watch such a wonderful story with my new(ish) friends.
On Saturday morning, we awoke early to drive to Wellington. Sadly, Mary and Peter couldn’t come with us. They were so hospitable to us—Mary once even apologized for making so much food! It was delightful to be in a house and to be around their cats and their dog, Paula. We left Tauranga early enough to make a stop at Lake Taupo, the largest lake in the Southern Hemisphere. Apparently, when a crater / meteor / (unspecified scientific object) hit the area, the explosion could be seen from China! After a short walk and a trip to the Super Loo (see the photo album), we left. And . . . I drove! On the left side! Hayley had been driving most of the time, and she wasn’t too keen to give up the keys. Nevertheless, it was fun for the short time it lasted. After 9 hours on the road through the emptiness of the island with only the occasional large statue to amuse us, we arrived in Wellington just in time to have dinner with Moana’s brother and his friends from work.
We stayed at Daniel’s flat that night, and I will honestly say that it was THE dirtiest, smelliest, most unsanitary flat I’ve even seen. Thankfully, Daniel’s room was clean(ish), and he let four of us share his bed—but the rest of the flat was almost unbearable. To sum it up, there was black mold in the shower, and one of the other flatmates had beer on tap. Water from the bathroom crept out into the hallway and the kitchen, and all flat surfaces were covered with dirty dishes. It wasn’t safe to go shoeless. And all of the sudden Flat 42 began to look like paradise.
We all survived the night and left very early to catch the ferry to the South Island. None of us even brushed our teeth for fear of the bathroom. After a bumpy ferry ride, we docked on the South Island, picked up our second hired car, hit the road, and named our Ford Focus Zoom Dog. (The first car, a Toyota Corolla—very different from American Corollas—was called Squeakers.) Like I mentioned in the previous post, every so often we’d all roll down the windows and scream for a wee bit. It’s nice and cathartic—I’d recommend it. After so much togetherness, sometimes you just need to scream. (After all, it’s better to scream out the window than at the driver!)
I’ve spent the past two days frantically catching up with work and trying to turn in my last few assignments. I’m even more intensely aware of the time than I usually am—only three more working days, and then I’ll meet up with Dad in Sydney for our big adventure to Asia! While I still don’t really know why I’m here, I do know why I’m away—(and at the risk of sounding cliche) to grow up, to realize my southern-ness and appreciation of manners, to take a break from the chaos of Wake Forest, to meet people from all over the world, to learn to be friends with people who are different in every way that matters, and, especially, to scream out windows of endearingly named hired cars.
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