Raglan and the Fantastic Mr. Ross

Four totems representing the Four Directions (NSEW) and Four Elements (Earth Air Fire Water)

 

It has been a few weeks since we have had the chance to post any stories for you all, so it is probably near about time to catch everyone up.

Last you heard (aside from my recent Thanksgiving post), we had just arrived in Raglan on the North island and met up with our CouchSurfing host, Ross.

Ross is a gregarious jokester with a bit of a filthy mind and a heart pure as gold. He has been in a wheelchair since the age of 16 (rugby accident—that’s why they now make opponents touch shoulders before a scrimmage), though definitely not bound by it—he has taken on more pee-your-pants extreme activities than I actually knew existed, and he is pretty self-sufficient for having limited use of his digits and the like. What a rare fellow. We liked each other right away, but it was all over when we discovered a passionate shared love for Austin Powers. I commend Neal for his powers of endurance during our long feverish competitions of rehashing one quote after the other followed by bouts of hysterical laughter. He also is a practitioner of BARS, a healing technique where the hands are placed on certain points of the scalp to release energy, promote healing, and bring forth positive energies. We learned much about his ideas of coming to a greater understanding of one’s own body and its silent messages, which he believes opens us up to the deeper truths of our daily existence and provides us more opportunities to be joyful. Ross’s favourite question is: “What do you require?” and his mantra is: “What else is possible?”

Immediately after our arrival Ross piled the three of us into his van and gave us the tour of Raglan. He showed us the city center, a collection of less than a hundred shops and restaurants jumbled together, small enough to walk its entirety in about ten minutes. We looked out upon the mountains and bays and he told us their Maori histories—discoveries, conquests, communities, living people. Then he drove to the top of a very tall hill overlooking the roiling ocean waves. The view looked quite familiar, as Raglan is fairly close to Port Waikato, but on the top of the hill was a circular walkway circumnavigating four large totems dedicated to the four elements: Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. He explained the significance of these guardians in Maori culture and gave us the chance to take photographs before carting us off to the next point of interest. Over the next several days, we were invited to join him in many enlightening experiences, such as attending a gallery opening for a Maori women’s group, visiting a community house with a garden meditation circle, hiking to a dizzyingly tall waterfall, and having tea with a woman who had built her entire house sustainably using packed earth and composting toilets. These teaching and sharing experiences deepened our understanding of the people, cultures, and powerful energies of New Zealand, while showing us the true loving spirit of Ross himself.

Ross has several people deemed caretakers who come in and out to help him with various household tasks, as well as a whole host of friends and acquaintances, whose presence has created a very unique sort of community. Dierdre was one of my favourites: a sharp-eyed, expressive, slightly rotund kiwi woman with exuberant grey curly hair and a tongue to be reckoned with. I am convinced she was Irish in a past life. She had been a chef for many years and knew how to cook just about everything. She was the master of the kitchen and liked to have full control over any comings and goings while she was there. The first morning we met her she was doing dishes as Neal and I looked for cereal bowls, and she said loudly to nobody in particular: “I could get this kitchen cleaned up right quick if I just had a moment alone to do it!” so we scooted out and waited on the outskirts reading books until she finally looked at us and exclaimed, “Well, are you going to have breakfast this morning, or not?”

In order to have us stay longer than he usually allows guests, Ross gave us several projects in his garden. We helped him plant squash and tomatoes, dig a new section of garden for potatoes, prune the leeks and pick kale for dinner salads. He has a lovely backyard and it was fun work with so many other people around to chat with. On one rainy day, we tried doggedly to dig until the rain got so heavy that our forks turned into giant earth clods and we were forced to stop. The rain here is quite different from the typical cold needle pricks of Colorado: soft, fat, slightly cool water washing gently over us, a very pleasant experience until the water started soaking our underwear. Then we were just too wet to work any longer and we went inside to watch the falling rain from the supreme comfort of the sunroom loveseat.

During these rare moments of inactivity, I read The Good Earth, by Pearl S. Buck. The book is extremely well-written and accessible for everyone, with striking messages about money, food, community, and family. She won the Pulitzer Prize for her work, and in my opinion it is a prize well-earned. I am not going to go into details here because you could probably get a better synopsis from Wikipedia if you are interested, but I recommend it to anyone interested in social and environmental issues.

Our last outing with Ross was first to his parents’ dairy farm for an evening of bourbon and political discussion, then to the small town of Te Kuiti, where we celebrated 11/11/11 (twice) with a small host of enlightened and loving people on a sacred marae. We spent two powerful days there with him, attending meditations, singing crystal bowls, and a full-on two hour Native American sweat lodge before he dropped us at the end of the road, where we immediately hooked a ride straight to Taupo. It was good to keep moving and exploring, but definitely tough leaving him—we have a good friend in Ross and we are grateful for his gifts to us. In the words of Austin Powers, “You’re one groovy baby…baby!”

Happy Thanksgiving, Family!

It is so weird to be here when I know that all of America is celebrating today. It is hard to imagine that it is the fall and winter season back home when everything is bursting into bloom here. I am enjoying the sunny and warm weather, but I can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness knowing that I’m missing the chance to sit comfortably next to my family on the couch with the warmth of the fire pushing away the chilly weather outside, preparing to share the meal together. Neal and I are WWOOFing at a charming Bed and Breakfast between Nelson and Motueka on the South island of New Zealand, and we did have a Thanksgiving meal of sorts with our gracious hosts and two guests last night (since yesterday was Thursday here). We had forgotten until just a few moments before dinner that it even was Thanksgiving, assuming it was next week, so it was a bit of a shock to us when the calendar told us otherwise (what are the odds of our hosts having an American calendar on their wall? Very strange). Nonetheless, we made the most of it and ended up spending a lovely evening talking about families and children and spirituality, eating delicious green curry with rice, sweet salad with flower petals in it, and slices of fresh pineapple for dessert.

I have been keeping a list of things I am grateful for since our trip began, as a method of allaying fears and keeping the peace and many “goodnesses” within my mind along our journey. Here are a few things on that list:

• We arrived safely and on time with all of our luggage
• We have never been overly hungry or cold
• We have been outside nearly every day
• We did NOT get food poisoning from the restaurant with a mouse turd in the roti
• I got in to New Zealand (though we are still waiting on my work visa…)
• Oranges
• Chocolate
• Animals (including goats, cats, magpies, and dogs-- not including roosters at 5am)
• WWOOFing and CouchSurfing hospitality
• The beach
• Cultivation and newness
• Random kindnesses and good advice
• Good books
• Philosophical discussions
• Pie
• Meditation rooms and music
• I have an amazing travelling companion—resourceful, engaged, sociable, good with directions, and adaptable!
• I am ALIVE and here to experience it!

Yes, life is good at the moment. Currently we are enjoying spending time with our hosts Guruvati and Harideva at their Bed and Breakfast, talking about family, food, and the PROUT social theory in between planting potatoes. Neal is reading PROUT books like crazy, getting all riled up about our current political and economic situation. I am reading The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver, and I am so engrossed by it that I read 300 pages in 2 days. I had to stop myself after awhile because my eyes were crossing. I am also excited to bake with Guruvati—she is an amazing vegetarian cook, and she owned a pie making business famous in Nelson for ten years, so there is a lot of wonderful stuff for me to learn! We look forward to what else life has in store for us and are constantly amazed by how seemingly miraculously everything is falling into place for us along the way. Keep that positive energy flowing, and remember all that there is to be thankful for!

A few New Zealand photos

We have been having an amazing time experiencing so much of the picturesque scenery that New Zealand has to offer. Unfortunately, we have been unable to share any of these breathtaking moments with the rest of you... until now! Thanks, CouchSurfing hosts, for letting us commandeer your computer for a couple of downloads.

RAGLAN

Bridal Veil Falls

         

The view from Katalina and Javier's packed earth house

                                 The sacred cemetery of the Four Winds marae over November 11th

The four-directional path marking the gathering house that burned down (and will someday be rebuilt), with tents of fellow seekers in the background

Our gregarious and hospitable CouchSurfing host, Ross, outside of the Four Winds dining hall

TAUPO

Huka Falls

MORDOR!!! Also known as the Tongariro Crossing

Yes, Mount Doom is for realz! Woot!

The storm approaches

A light blanket of hail over Mordor

WELLINGTON

THE FERRY TO THE SOUTH ISLAND

The Marlborough Sounds

MONKEY BAY (near BLENHEIM)

Hope you enjoy this little taste... More to come!

New Zealand: The Sensory Experience

Neal did a good job of explaining our life over the past few weeks, so I thought I might just keep it simple with a few of my most striking and meditative moments in New Zealand so far:

-- Biting into a juicy, pungent, couldn't-get-riper tangelo
-- Smelling fresh-cut grass and moist new-turned earth
-- The wind between the sheltering trees
-- Annie's shrill but firm voice calling the dogs: "Crocket, Lulu, Flossie!"
-- The spine-creeping feeling upon discovering the cockroach on the toilet seat, its antennae waving at me lazily, immediately after standing up
-- Soft sand between my toes
-- Wind and surf spray
-- The stinging feeling of salt water in my sinuses after wiping out hard (again)
-- The hot New Zealand sun beating down on my shoulders and face as I paint the rafters, and frying my knees as I squat to hammer another row of bricks (don't worry, Mom; I wore sunscreen)
-- The lifting feeling in my stomach and spirit as I look out upon the ever-expanding horizon

My two favorite experiences in New Zealand so far have been on Sunset Beach. The first evening we decided to walk along the beach during extremely low tide to see the Waikato Sand Dunes. The tide had gone so far out that the only sign we were not walking suspended in space was the firm sand beneath our feet. Distance was merely an illusion, and time felt like a dream. The mist coming off of the breaking waves was rising up to form a translucent curtain of contained light and air, giving an otherworldly feel to the distant landscape. The colors were cool and muted, still holding the light of the day while preparing for the oncoming night. I fully understand why they filmed Lord of the Rings inthis country! We walked along the beach in the thick space between sand and water, stepping lightly around jellyfish, tracing shapes with sticks and picking up shells. Suddenly the black-green sand began to mix with a new sand: soft and fine as powdered dry paint and a deep indigo blue. I plopped myself down and ran my hand and arms through the warm moldable softness like a little kid . Neal went off on his own for awhile, and when he came back to gather me I was so sad at the prospect of leaving my happy place that I gathered a handful of the fine, sticky sand into my hat for bottling later. By the time we got to the dunes, the sun was setting and the tide was moving in, so we just stepped quickly into a quiet corner for a brief glimpse and reflection, then headed home for dinner. As we walked out of the dunes, we spotted the marks of horseshoes walking past which had not been there before. Ghost Horse rides again!
The next evening, Dean told us that a bunch of surfers were going out to catch some bigger waves before nightfall, so Neal and I went out to watch. The reef was exposed due to low tide, and we discovered all sorts of unusual sea creatures hiding in the still-moist areas: crabs, anemone, starfish... We climbed on rocks worn down by water to expose the veins of other materials running through; other rocks sharp and jagged and dark as night; and sand with bits of shiny neon shell still gleaming, not yet fully broken smooth ands all by the currents. We passed an older surfer, his face grim and bloodied, walking back to his car. We scrambled on top of the biggest rock we could find, slipping around in our flippy floppies until we could see the whole ocean laid out in front of us. The surfers were few at first, but slowly grew more numerous until there were about 25 dark shapes floating and bobbing between the gigantic waves. An even older man passed below us, barefoot on the rocks with his face and some of his shaggy white hair painted with zinc to look almost like a clown. We watched in awe and admiration as he picked his way delicately between the sharp rocks and battering waves, and paddled slowly but steadily out to join the others. We watched with the wind whipping our faces until we got too cold and hungry to sit any longer, and then we worked our way back home again. The ocean is a magnificent force that is not to be taken lightly, and it very swiftly puts our own size and meager influence upon nature into sharp perspective. Good on ya, surf enthusiasts! We have a whole new level of respect for what you do.
We are now in Raglan, another beach town a bit south of Port Waikato and not much larger. We stay here until Monday, just in time to celebrate Guy Fawkes and light things on fire with the rest of the country! "Forever remember the 5th of November..." And never forget Sunset Beach.

An Update from the Beach House

Home sweet home in New Zealand. This place is truly one of a kind. New Zealand has been beckoning me since I was a kid, and as I've grown the list of reasons to come has steadily grown with me. Maybe it's the awe inspiring diverse landsapes that vary from the endless summer beaches in the north to the huge snow covered peaks in the south, giving you the option to surf and snowboard all in the same day (I know, it boggles my mind too). Or maybe it's the fact that you only hear stories of friendly New Zealanders. Or maybe what attracts me is the fact that they don't feel the need to police the rest of the world and instead focus more on their own domestic issues, like not allowing genetically engineered crops or nuclear energy. It's for these reasons I will always feel at home here.
So it's been exactly two weeks since we landed in Auckland, and it has been a non stop adventure from the time we stepped off the plane. I've got to admit I was stressed about not knowing if we would even be allowed in due to Siri not having a visa, but after 30 minutes her passport was stamped and it was time to let the adventure begin. We left customs and walked through an empty airport to the baggage claim where we found a massive empty room with nothing but our two duffel bags sitting on the floor, so we picked them up and began our journey to downtown Auckland. We walked up to the bus ticket window, saw the price of the tickets and quickly decided to try and hitchhike to town. The ticket lady looked shocked when I told her we were going to hitch it and asked what direction town was, and and all she had to say was, "I hope I don't see you in the paper tomorrow." So we both walked away a little wary, but stoked. We wandered through the parking lot for about 5 minutes and found a ride with a guy from New Caledonia and his mom, and they drove us out of their way right to downtown Auckland. After a failed attempt at giving the guy gas money, we settled with a "thank you" and a "cheers" and went on our way. We walked about a block and found a hostel, walked in and decided this would be our spot for the night. We gave the man $50 for the two of us, dropped our bags and went out to see the town. Auckland is a beautiful city -- giant contemporary styled buildings interspersed with smaller old brick and vine covered buildings, steep rolling streets and wide cobblestone alleys. We made it back to the hostel around dark and settled in for the night.
The next morning we got up early and went out again to see the town. On our journey we went to the boat harbor, saw the tallest building in the southern hemisphere, and sat in the park and watched a wackanut in short shorts fro his ginger hair, shave his nipples, and take a dip in the fountain. After that we went and checked out the University of Auckland and made our way back to the hostel to make plans for the next day. When we got back we realized that the hostel price had tripled and that, along with all the others in that area, it was booked out for the Rugby World Cup that weekend. So we started searching desperately for a way out of the city. I managed to contact a WWOOF host, and I think she could sense the desperation in my voice, because she offered to take us that night and told me she would pick us up around six in a town three hours south. This gave us about four hours to get there, so I immediately started looking for bus tickets and found that a train-bus-taxi combo would get us there right at six, so we grabbed our gear and made our way to the train station. We got there and I saw right away that the train was leaving in ten minutes to Papakura so we bought the ticket and ran to the train and made it as they were shutting the door. Catching rides by the skin of our teeth seems to be a reaccuring theme on this trip. On the train I got a phone call from Annie, and she said that she would pick us up in Pukekohe, which saved us the bus and taxi ride. We got off the train in Papakura and waited in the park for her to pick us up for about an hour, which is when we received a phone call from her husband Sean asking us where we were. I proceded to tell him we were in Papakura, which is when he told me we were supposed to meet in Pukekohe a half hour away. I felt horrible, but seriously, Papakura and Pokekohe-- anybody could have done it. So Annie came by a half hour later with a smile on her face and drove us to her orchard in Miranda which was on the East Coast on the Firth of Thames. We spent the next week at her and her husband's farm with another German WWOOFer named Simon. We woke up in the mornings to fresh squeezed orange juice everyday. After breakfast we would work for five hours around the farm laying mulch around the crops as an herbicide, eating oranges, picking oranges, mowing, eating more oranges, working in the shop, and eating homemade yogurt and more oranges. I ate so many oranges that my mouth stung whenever I thought of oranges. Every night we would eat dinner with Annie, Sean, and Simon and end the night with tea and delicious chocolate, which really taught me to appreciate the simple things in life. We also got to watch the Rugby final at the local pub, and fully enjoyed observing the drunken celebration dancing...Go All Blacks! Near the end of our stay Simon, Siri and I decided to go to the Hot Water Beach, which is a beautiful beach an hour and a half drive up the Coromandel Peninsula. At the Hot Water Beach you can dig your own little hot spring in the sand 2 hours either side of low tide and relax up until the time that the cold ocean water breaks over the little sand walls you've built and lets you know it's time to head home. After our pool was washed away, we packed our stuff and headed back to the farm. About an hour into the return trip I realized that I had left our new camera back at the beach on a rock and began to cry uncontrollably. I didn't actually cry, but it really did suck to realize all of our pictures from the trip so far were either with some French tourist or getting swept away with the tide. After we got to the house I jumped in the driver seat only to realize I was in the passenger seat, switched sides, and drove back to the beach on the left side of the road (most of the time), only to find the huge ocean waves pounding into the rocks I had set the camera on. It was a sad day. I managed to come to terms with the loss of "my precious" on the beautiful drive home.

After about a week we decided to make our way to our next WWOOF host Dean Martin's house on the other side of the island in Port Waikato. We left the orchard and began hitchhiking around 8:30 and quickly began to realize that we were in the middle of nowhere after watching the sixth car go by in an hour. We finally got picked up by a really nice lady who drove us to the next town and gave us a fairwell hug and two granola bars. The next ride was by a younger girl who was stoked about everything and decided to take us out of her way to the next town we needed to go to, just because she wanted to see it too. After her ride we threw our bags on our backs and immediately took them off again to throw them into the back of an old fisherman's truck. This old guy, Jacko, was a riot. He happened to live in Port Waikato and he knew Dean. He told us stories about New Zealand and his own travel experiences the whole way into town. After about twenty minutes in the car, I looked over and noticed that Jacko didn't seem to be wearing any pants, and I began to think of ways to tell him, "bro, please let us out here." After inspecting the situation further, I was relieved to see that he was wearing pants, but they were just really short and hidden by his sweater. I also noticed he was wearing galoshes... short shorts and galoshes. The funny thing was he wasn't the first person we saw in this attire. We pulled up to Dean's house, jumped out of the truck and said our goodbyes.
So here we are in Port Waikato and damn LIFE IS GOOD! Port Waikato is a small surf town made up of about 350 people, a few dogs, a couple stray cats, a goat and a "heap" of avid surfers. I knew when I started this trip that Siri and I would be traveling on a shoestring, but I had no idea that meant staying at a little beach house equipped with surf boards, wet suits and lessons 20 meters from the beach. And not just any beach either, they call it Sunset Beach for a reason. This place is undescribably beautiful. We've spent the last week and a half working a couple hours in the morning, taking a two hour break around 10:00 to surf, then working a few more hours and ending the day with long walks on the beach. In that time I have managed to catch some waves, learn a bunch about surfing, watch some bad ass surfers, and get stung by a jelly fish. This place is paradise and the low tide walks on the beach will be etched into my memory forever.
So far New Zealand has repeatedly boggled my mind and has been everything I could have hoped for and more. With each passing day I am convinced over and over again that this will be a place I call home in the very near future. And from what I've heard we haven't even made it to the good stuff yet.
So until next time,
Cheers, Mate.