Fire and Water

This last weekend marked my very first holiday, long weekend in New Zealand!  I took the opportunity to finally get out of Wellington.  I had been planning the weekend for a week or two with a fellow, female coworker, Sandra, but was pleasantly surprised when a handful more of coworkers decided to come along at the last minute.  

We were certainly an international group comprising of an American (moi), a Canadian, a trio of Australians, a duo of Kiwis, and an Irishman.  But I guess that's just the way things roll here, both at the office and New Zealand in general.  We headed north to Tongariro National Park, where we stayed at the perfectly situated Tongariro Holiday Park.  The day on the drive up was clear and perfect, and we even considered trekking the strenuous Tongariro Crossing the next day.  But when the forecast showed a gradual turn back to gray, gloominess for the long weekend, only Sandra and Taylor decided to brave the elements.  Nonetheless, the rest of us still ventured to Taranki Falls and the old Maori tribe Te Porere Redoubts, where Maori warriors once tried to fend off European settlers.  The landscape is barren and yet lush all at once, the volcano peaks of Mt. Ruapehu, Mt. Tongariro, and Mt. Ngauruhoe looming above it.  Only small towns and private farms nestle up against this backdrop.  Its vastness reflects its fiery history of volcanic explosions and violent war, but the flowing rivers, the sweeping mist, and glistening blue and emerald pools suggest the constant force of regrowth and life.

In the evening, we recollected and headed to the Tokaanu Thermal Pools.  Natural hot springs are numerous in the area, but the water is so scalding hot, that facilities, like those at Tokaanu, use the natural hot water simply to heat the treated pool water for guest use.  It was still a soothing feeling to relax in a hot, steaming pool for an hour.  

We closed out the night with beer and card games (and eventually a scalding reprimand from the campground manager to go to bed after we grew too loud).  By the morning, the rain had arrived and it was a quiet, but sobering ride back to Wellington.  As I had done on the ride up, I spent most of the ride staring out the car windows, admiring the sweeping, green hills and losing count of the number of sheep alongside the road.  New Zealand is what I have expected it to be so far: simply lush and tranquil.

The Hemlock-Umbels Tall and Fair

Yesterday, I went to Zealandia in the Wellington suburb of Karori, a protected wildlife sanctuary where birdlife and native plants are being restored to pre-European settler fullness.  Full restoration will take about 500 years; thus the sign reads that one round trip around the main sanctuary will take approximately 2 hours--or 500 years.

The park is quite beautiful.  The tui birds sing to you as if you're the only one in the room, and the fern korus dip down to kiss you in the lush valleys.  Its reason for existence, however, is the response to reverse the history of land-stripping human inhabitance.  The reservoirs in the park were also once Wellington's water supply, but as Wellington grew, the reservoirs were inadequate and abandoned.  As it was solidified that the Wellington fault line runs straight through the park and its reservoirs, the old water supplies were drained to half its capacity.

And there it is again: New Zealand's overpowering awareness of the eminent power of earthquakes.  Sometimes I wonder if maybe I missed this similar power in California.  Yes, we had earthquake drills in addition to fire drills in elementary school, and emergency home kits were sold to our families.  And though the Cities of San Francisco and Oakland, just as examples, are narrowing down their inventories of "soft-story" buildings, these acts are not pasted on the fronts of these buildings or advertised in exhibitions. To the general public, it seems so black and white: either that you are unprepared and are screwed in the next earthquake, or you have an earthquake kit that will feet you for 5 days in a partially collapsed building as you wait for FEMA to never get to you (can we remember Katrina?)

I saw an article the other day in IF**kingLoveScience.com that the fault lines in the Bay Area are so locked up that an earthquake is eminent.  No duh, Sherlock!  Within the Structural Engineering community this has always been known, but why is it only now that a trending site like IFLS is making it news?  It's reality--and we need to deal with it with more than JUST post-preparedness.  Why not an article about what needs to be done to the California building stock?  

Granted, its hard to compare apples with apples.  The biggest differences that set New Zealand apart from California, in regards to its EQ pre-preparedness is: a) its smaller population, and b) the priorities that come with it.  With California's issues in education, economy, pollution, and, dare I say it, border patrol, there is little room left for the government to fund and encourage earthquake awareness and seismic retrofitting.  Even so, if investment is made into pre-preparedness, perhaps there will be something to salvage when the Big One finally hits.

I digress.  Let's get back to tui bird songs and the lush site of NZ-native trees growing anew.  I think I'd like to own a native New Zealand fern...

An Unexpcted Party

Though I knew that the Kiwis must be friendly as a whole country, I find myself amazed at how true it is!  Not to bash too hard on my fellow Americans, but back home, most could try to look up more often and offer at least a smile in passing.  That's what I'm finding here!  Perfect strangers make eye contact with you and smile, as you're walking down the street, sometimes even just to say hello.  A woman at the gym, NOT a personal trainer, dropped her spot in the class to show me how to set up for class.  Young people are not glued to their 3-inch wide mobile screens as they nearly run into you on the sidewalk.  It's just so different and refreshing, one of the many reasons why I decided to come here.

Even at work, my new coworkers are so warm and welcoming.  Sure, at the last firm that I worked at, everyone there was lovely.  But it's different now, and some of it has to do with company culture.  There are HEAPS more engineers my age, and with a Kiwi-like culture that's fond of getting together frequently, I've gone out more with my coworkers already here than I did back home.  Each week, at least once, there's an occasion to have a drink or perhaps dinner.  A group of coworkers even invited me to a weekend camping trip, that I, disappointedly, couldn't join.  Instead, I went on a Sunday evening hike alone up Mt. Victoria Summit, only to find out, come Monday morning, that there was another coworker who would've been absolutely willing to join me!

I couldn't join in on the camping fun because I was busy moving into my new flat.  I'm sleeping on an air mattress on the floor for now with very little furniture, but in a month's time, my shipment of items will arrive from California with my bedroom-full of furniture and stuff.  It will certainly feel more like home once they arrive, but already I'm finding that my flatmates are pushing that feeling forward.  Independent and social, my new flatmates have manage to make me feel as if I'm an old friend.  Within just the first couple of days, we've already all sat together on a Sunday evening, just to have a chat and even gossip.  Hopefully it sticks, but man, was I not expecting this in deciding to move in with strangers.

So though I was certainly expecting to meet some friendly people, I wasn't so much expecting such an unexpected party!  This feeling is beneficial, however, as homesickness starts to settle in.  But that shouldn't be so unexpected.  After all, this is new territory, albeit a very friendly one.

On The Doorstep

I was silly enough to think that finding an apartment in Wellington would be easy, especially given the fact that I came from a competitive rental market like San Francisco.  I thought that my training in SF, with its overpopulation and high rents, would send me sailing nonchalantly through the challenging course that is apartment shopping here in Wellington.  

Well, after two weeks of searching for an apartment--excuse me, a flat--I've discovered that practicality can easily overcome idealism.  In my initial search, I was adamant in finding an unfurnished, unshared, 1-2 bedroom flat for $400 max per week (yes, that is how it's done here) that I could make into a private and comfortable home for my boyfriend and I; except, my boyfriend doesn't arrive until January--most likely.  Yet, as I began to view tiny or outdated flats that were nestled up in the steep, bushy hillsides, the idea of being isolated, alone, and in a new city--a new country!--became daunting, even if being alone meant only temporary.  I had wanted to live alone for some time now, even with its isolating social effects, but some of what I wanted began to feel different in this new environment.  And though my boyfriend is committed to immigrating here, it seemed silly that I had centered my lifestyle on an absent person.  Didn't I come here to mingle, mix, and explore?

I came the realization that I should find a comfortably-sized room in a place with 1-2 flatmates, rather than 1-2 bedrooms.  People seem to prefer to live with others here, anyhow, perhaps out of financial need (like in SF), but maybe also out of the social culture.  And couples seem welcome in shared flats.  It's a good way to meet more people, outside of work, and save up for travel.  And if my boyfriend and I really want a place of our own once he's here in the New Year, we can look for one then. 

Of course, looking for a room in a shared flat is also competitive, but being a professional with a job and from San Francisco has its bonus points. I was able to secure one that I really liked fairly quickly.  Now that the flat search is completed (and fingers crossed that with bond and first week's rent paid, everything's settled), I can focus on the things that really matter: planning trips in and around New Zealand!  I'm on the doorstep to the true adventure.  Where should I go first...?