never a dull moment

I really like the building I live in. It's extremely close to school and a nice supermarket, and it's also pleasantly close to nightlife. My landlords are super nice and accommodating, and it turns out that they own another apartment on my floor, just across the hall from my apartment. Before I knew that, I mentioned to the building manager that I'd noticed that someone had broken the locking mechanism to my floor. If you've been reading, you'll remember that my building and my floor are opened with a magnetic passcard thing, and someone apparently didn't have their card and managed to force the door open. He gave me a between-you-and-me tip that my neighbor tends to bring dodgy characters into the building, and these darling guests have TWICE forced open the floor door in the wee hours of my morning. Precious. He already told my landlords that he wants them out of the building.

So the next time I saw my landlords, I mentioned the commotion on the floor, and they said they were seriously thinking about evicting them. They bother the neighbors; they let their guests destroy the building; and apparently they aren't very prompt about paying rent. I let the landlords know that Jesse was still apartment hunting, so if they kicked neighbor out, they should let me know.

Yesterday landlord texted with instructions to look something up on google. Ladies and gentlemen, my darling neighbors: http://www.nzherald.co.nz/nz/news/article.cfm?c_id=1&objectid=10661866

Don't worry, mom! They're in custody!

I hope that turkey buys the farm soon

(discussing an upcoming trip to a local working farm)

Me: I want to shear a sheep.

Jesse: I want to ride a sheep.

Young kiwi guy: Americans are crazy.

We finally got to go to the farm last Saturday. Ambury Farm is a government-owned working farm that’s free to visit. Maybe they figure that the Auckland city-folk need to see what a farm is like? We got a demonstration on how to shear sheep, pet some baby goats, and raced a turkey. All around a good day.

missing the point

Sitting in class, waiting for the professor to come in:

Me: Oh shit. We were supposed to define the essence of human rights for class today.

Jesse: Shit. I'll google it.

dualism

Things I miss about home:

1. Cheap, reliable, unlimited internet access. Here there's a monthly cap on data usage, and the cheapest I can find is about $58 USD for a 2GB cap.

2. Cheap booze (and cheap aleve for after the booze)

3. Having a car, and therefore only having to go to the stupid grocery store once a month. I can't explain why I hate grocery shopping, but I totally hate it. So far that's the only thing that makes me want a car here.

4. Having an oven and loads of kitchen equipment

5. Being able to use my beloved iPhone as an actual phone. Stupid AT&T and their stupid monopoly and stupid party line that iPhones cannot be unlocked no no no.

Things I love about here:

1. Everything is awesome.

2. My shower water pressure at home is incredible.

3. I thought city living might overwhelm me, but it turns out that it's pretty great.

4. Weird food is everywhere and available all the time.

5. The people are startlingly, unstoppably friendly.

6. Lots of days are rainy, but on a brilliant Auckland day, life is like walking through a series of postcards. My mom says the photos I send her look like they belong in a calendar, and it's so true.

7. Accents.

8. I saw a firetruck filled with kiwi firefighters. That's all I have to say about that.

Rangitoto

Yesterday Jesse and I went to Rangitoto Island, which is a volcanic island formed 600 years ago. A 25-minute ferry to the island gets you about 5 hours of incredible views and relatively easy hiking. Auckland is surrounded by little islands and volcanoes, and many of them are accessible by ferry.

The day was warm, sunny, and just perfect, despite two separate assurances from kiwis that it would rain. We joke at home that weathermen are useless in Indiana because the weather can change so rapidly, but the unpredictability of the weather here puts home to shame.

It was a beautiful day, and when we came back to the city for a bite and a glass of wine, we were befriended by a gentleman who ended up treating us to some company and a couple of bottles of wine. Life is funny.

This video is for Gretchen, avid bird enthusiast and avid blog reader. You can't see the little feller in the video, but I'm pretty sure it was this guy. Hi Gretchen!

Wherein my sleep schedule gets wrecked

Thursday was the “bad taste” party at Globe Bar. Taz, Jesse, and I had gone to an orientation event hosted by a travel company earlier in the day, and both Taz and I won prizes at the seminar. Taz won a ferry trip I think, and I won a coupon for 2-for-1 bungee jumping. But the big prizes were going to be given away for bad costumes at the bar in the evening. Jesse and I got together a bunch of goofy accessories and looked a little like deranged aerobics instructors, but Taz bought a cow suit at the costume shop and won third prize, which was a ski trip.

I think we finally left the bar at 3 after dancing our asses off for several hours, and walking down the main street in the city, a man was walking uncomfortably close to us. A new kiwi friend of ours was with us, and though he seemed nonplussed, I quickly noticed the guy sidling up next to us. He tossed a small suitcase a couple of yards ahead of us and said, “I hope there’s not a bomb in there,” and headed into a McDonald’s. I guess there are crazy people everywhere.

After sleeping for just a couple of hours, we had to get up at 7am in order to register for a trip the orientation office offers. Next Saturday we’ll get to go to a working farm for tours and a BBQ lunch. I hope I get to shear a sheep. The orientation team plans lots of events, but obviously the numbers are limited when the events involve being bussed out to a farm outside of the city. They set certain days and times when you have to register for events by email, and even if you stayed up until 4am, you still have to drag out of bed at 7 in order to get to shear some sheep. And if you don’t have internet at home, you have to drag out of bed and go up to school to be able to email.

After breakfast the three of us headed out to grab a tour bus operated by another travel company. Of course it was pouring down rain on the day we were going to go sightseeing after the weather had been sunny and warm and perfect for about four days. But this time of year, I knew four straight days of gorgeous weather was pushing it. The bus tour was still fun since our tour guide had that typical kiwi easy sense of wicked humor, and they said they’d let us do it again whenever we wanted since we couldn’t exactly get the good views and we didn’t get the harbour bridge climb that was supposed to be part of the day.

I woke up this morning at 3:30am and went to do laundry. I know that sounds crazy, but when you figure that I stayed up until 4:30am and went "sightseeing" after two and a half hours of sleep, it makes more sense that I fell asleep at 5:30pm. Hence the waking up at 3:30am. Jesse and I are going to go to a famous pub tonight with the tour guide from yesterday to watch the All Blacks (hopefully) spank the Springboks again. It pays to be friendly.

all beef

At the rugby match, passing by a concession stand:

Me: What's the difference between a hot dog and an American hot dog? (which were both on the menu)
Mike: A hot dog is on a stick and battered. Like what you call a corn dog in the states.
Me: I am never leaving here.





If the embedded video doesn't work, you can go to flickr directly to see it.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/miabird/4794393759/

Yesterday was the first day of orientation, and I'm not sure why I expected anything different, but I've already made some fun friends. The girls I met at the hostel who are also in the law exchange program were there, and I noticed a girl at orientation that I'd seen outside my building. I walked up to her and said, "This is going to sound creepy, but I think you live in my building!" And Jesse, the other girl from IU Law on exchange with me, arrived just after orientation started, fresh off the plane. So yesterday was a fun day of getting to know people and helping Jesse get situated.

Yesterday was the international student orientation, and this morning was the general new student orientation. After about 2 minutes at the general orientation we realized it was obviously geered for 18 year olds, so we bailed and went to breakfast. Jesse and I are still marvelling at a fabulous discovery from yesterday: we don't have to buy casebooks here. We stopped by the bookstore yesterday to get a look at what kind of books we need and how much they cost, and there was only one course that we're in on the booklist, and the only book it required was $195. So I emailed Mike and Kristy to see how the heck we're supposed to get our books if they aren't listed, and also is there a cheaper bookstore. Mike reported that you just go to a room at the law school on a certain day, and all the materials you need for class are ready to be picked up. WHAT? The books are free here? Well occasionally you will actually need to buy a book or a statutory supplement, but for the most part it appears that what we call at home professor supplements are the only materials we need for class. Those spiral-bound printed coursepacks that professors prepare and have copied and bound by a publisher are, for the most part, going to be all we need. Sweet!

And now Jesse and I are off to have lunch with the kiwis. Life is lovely.

Day 6

Today is Saturday. Today is also the day that I get to go to the All Blacks v. Springboks rugby match. I have been waiting for this day since the day that I discovered that this would be the only All Blacks match in Auckland while I was living here, which was probably around May. About three or four weeks before leaving the States, I was emailing with the Kiwis, just asking general questions. I let them know about the fact that I had a hostel booked and might wind up asking them for advice about where to live, and I also asked about whether or not they thought I’d be able to get a ticket to the rugby match. Kiwi Mike said he was already going to the match, and that tickets would likely be sold out by the time I got here. So he offered to just get me a ticket. I was at home when I got his email, and I replied as fast as I could OH MY GOD YES PLEASE AWESOME THAT WOULD BE AWESOME. And then he emailed back a few minutes later to say no problem, he’d already bought it. The man gave up a better seat in a better part of the pitch in order to sit with me, since all of the seats in the stand his original ticket was in were sold out. Sheesh. These Kiwis. Their friendliness and generosity is fabulous. Startling, but fabulous.

So today he picked me up for dinner before the match and then off to Eden Park. I’d only ever been to small league matches before, and even though Eden Park is still under construction for next year’s World Cup, professional sporting arenas are always an enjoyable spectacle. Our seats were pretty low to the ground, and the Springboks blocked my view of the haka, but I got a good video of it on the big screen. The All Blacks quickly took the lead and ended up spanking those boks 32-12. It’s one of those experiences that you hope you’ll get to be a part of, and then you find out you will in fact get to be a part of, and then you’re sitting there in the crowd, knowing you will just never forget this. I will never forget this.

Day 5

Today looks much like yesterday. Running errands for the apartment and figuring out some money stuff. If you are considering studying abroad, here is a number one important asterisk pay attention item that needs to go on your To Do list: go to your bank and sign a telephone wire transfer international permission form. Before I left, I called my bank to say I would be studying abroad and please don’t lock down my card when New Zealand charges start showing up. Yes thank you for notifying us, they said. I thought I’d done the thing with my bank that would be most important. I opened a bank account here. They gave me all the details I needed to have my bank at home transfer money into my account.

Then my bank at home says if you didn’t sign the international telephone blah blah blah form, there is no way to transfer your money unless you come in person to the bank. OH HA HA Larry you are so funny. We need to come up with a solution because I cannot spend all 5 months here constantly withdrawing money from the ATM and putting it into my NZ bank, and my landlady wants direct deposit for rent, and several small shops and independent restaurants so far have declined my card because it’s international and blah blah blah the machine doesn’t like it. And Larry, I know there are 4 Burger Kings on Queen Street that would probably happily accept my American card, literally 4, but Larry, I did not fly 8,000 miles to eat at the Burger King. What’s that you say? There are also 2 McDonald’s and 2 Subways and a Pita Pit and a Wendy’s? EIGHT THOUSAND MILES, LARRY. Oh okay. All I need to do is give someone Power of Attorney, and then they can go down to Bloomington and go to my bank and initiate the international transfer of funds. Oh is that all? Oh thank you. Excellent. Love you, Larry.

Anyhow, Day 5 was much like Day 4 with the apartment cleaning and flitting around town. Tomorrow will be a banner day though.

Day 4

Wake up at 5:30 for the second 6:30 semifinal game: Germany v. Spain. A couple of my favorites back home are rooting for Spain, and I rooted for Spain in the quarters, so I guess I’m rooting for Spain, but I’m not really bothered either way. I got to the tv room at the hostel at about 6:15, and there was one other girl already in there. She’s from Germany, so we laugh about how early we have to get up to watch it. She asks me what I’m doing in Auckland. “I’m going to be studying at the university,” I say, “What about you?” She says she’s also an exchange student. In what program? Law. “ME TOO!” I say. We chat about the classes we’re in and we have one class together, and I tell her I’ve just found an apartment when she mentions she’s nervous about getting a place to live. So I gave her my email for any help she might need to start out. Not that I'm an expert or anything, but I've learned quite a bit of useful stuff in just a few days. Eventually an English guy and a French guy come in, and then a Swiss guy and two more German girls. Everything I do here is a multicultural adventure, I swear.

So after the game I packed up the rest of my belongings, checked out, and headed out for the 15-20 minute walk to my flat. Upon further inspection, there are a handful of things in disrepair at my new place, but nothing deal breaking or unfixable. The toilet drips so it always sounds like the water’s running in the bathroom. The carpet is stained beyond repair. The kitchen faucet is not mounted properly, and also turns on when you push down on the lever. There is a layer of the weird sticky grime on all hard surfaces that lets you know that the previous tenant never ever not once cleaned the apartment. The landlady comes in the afternoon to bring some things I’d requested the day before when she gave me the keys. I showed her how gross and torn up all of the kitchen equipment was, and I asked for a space heater. There is no source of heat in many apartments here. July is the coldest month, and the average low is about 45 degrees. But when there is no heat source and the windows don’t seal very tightly, the apartment is extremely cold by morning. She brought me a little space heater, a new frying pan, a new set of pots, silverware, and a rug to cover some of the gross carpet.

She and her husband will remodel the apartment after I move out, so that explains the reasonable rent. Well that and the condition of the place. She tells me she hired a professional cleaning crew, and I almost laugh outloud because the level of cleanliness is far dirtier after being “professionally” cleaned than the dirtiest I’ve ever let any place where I’ve ever lived get. I suggest she ask for her money back, because in the 3 hours I’d lived in the place, I had already scrubbed the shower and vacuumed out all the drawers with hair and dirt and food bits in them. Even the desk and window seat had the greasy sticky coating on them. But once more, the price is right, and I have plenty of elbow grease to smack down on this place.

The rest of the day is spent running around to the grocery store and the Target-ish store to get some other basic home goods. Landlady has given me permission to buy household stuff I need and take it off my rent. For instance, things I need are an electric hot water kettle and a French press, and these are obviously things I will use with care and leave here when I move out, so she says sure I can have them.

Day 3

Up at 5:30am to get to a pub to watch the 6:30am Netherlands v. Uruguay semifinal game. The time difference between here and the rest of the world is annoying for a number of reasons, but so far this one was the most annoying. I had to get up hours before sunrise just so the precious rest of the world could watch the game at a reasonable hour. But whatever. It was fun to be in a pub full of Dutch fans, and quite a good game. Mike and Kristy got up and went with me, too! After the game we had lunch and I chuckled to myself for a while about ordering something called “the lifestyle breakfast.”

But today was a big day, because I had at least 3 apartments to look at. The first one was the real estate agent’s showing, and I knew it was out of my price range. If furnished, this apartment would run $800/mo before electricity and internet (which are usually about $30 and $25/mo, respectively). The location was good, and the studio apartment turned out to be nice and big, but the previous tenant was way past her move-out date and the place was filthy, so even if I had talked myself into an expensive apartment, there’s no way it would have been ready any time soon.

I also looked at another apartment operated by the same company as the teeny tiny studio/shoebox that I’d viewed the day before, but the story was the same. Clean but unbearably tiny and expensive on top of that.

Between all of these apartment viewings I was running back and forth to school, using the internet to keep looking for apartments and checking all my emails. I need to integrate my emails into one because I now have an IU address, a gmail address, and a uni address (uni = university, obvs, and I’ve adopted the lingo, so I guess you’ll have to deal with certain instances of my New Zealandization).

I had an appointment for 2:30 with the first independent landlord I’d scheduled with, and I had high hopes for this one because the apartment costed the exact same as my apartment at home, and electricity was included, so it’s actually cheaper than my apartment at home. And the place was extremely close to the law school, which I really wanted because living close to school makes me happy at home. What follows comes from the email I wrote to my mom detailing the afternoon’s events.

______________________

So there I am, waiting outside of 43 Anzac Street for the lady who owns the apartment to let me in for a viewing. There were also three other people hovering outside the building. I knew there would be competition. So I call Paula, the owner, to let her know I'm a few minutes early for the appointment (exactly 7 minutes early for the 2:30 appt) and she says she'll come down. She shakes hands with me and Rose, who is also apartment hunting, and Rose's two friends, who've come along for the fun. We go up to the 6th floor and into the apartment. It is by far the best apartment I've seen, and unbelievably the cheapest, too. This apartment costs exactly the same as my Bloomington apartment, and electricity and water are included, which is not common. The only extra thing I'd have to pay for is internet. The apartment is furnished with a queen size bed, desk, 2 desk chairs, basic cooking equipment like pans and cutting board and dishes, hot plate, fridge, microwave + dvd player, tv, linens on the bed.

In the lobby I purposefully stood between Paula (owner) and Rose (apartment hunter) and asked Paula about how long the apartment has been on the market (about 1.5 days) and if there's laundry in the building (yes, coin operated) and just generally chatting her up and being friendly. We get up to the apartment, and by this point I've seen enough $800/mo apartments that are entirely smaller than my bedroom at home, the WHOLE APARTMENT IS SMALLER THAN MY BEDROOM AT HOME, that I can tell right away that this apartment is a steal. I know all the right questions to ask, and after about 5 minutes I look directly at Rose and say, "Rose I don't mean to be a jerk, (and then I look at Paula), but this apartment is exactly what I've been looking for, and I will commit to it right now." This is awkward. I've never had to compete on the spot with another apartment hunter. Rose looks pissed. But I go on. "Whatever sort of commitment you need, I will make it. I'm still waiting for the wire transfer to come from my bank at home to my New Zealand bank, but I have the funds, and I will commit to this apartment." Paula says, "Well whoever can come up with the deposit is fine by me." So I say, "Okay, I have $100 NZD on me, and I can write you an American check for the rest." Paula says great. Rose and friends sheepishly depart. I HAVE WON.


The front door to the apartment building is protected by a magnetic entrance key. My floor, the top floor, is protected yet again by magnetic entrance key. As is the laundry room. She's replacing the hot plate that was spoiled by a previous tenant. She's going to bring me a space heater. It will take me 4 minutes to walk to the law school, and 6 minutes to walk to the only actual supermarket I've seen in Auckland central. I signed the papers saying I'll give her two weeks notice before I leave, won't have to pay for water or electricity, will pay by direct deposit, etc. I have a place to live, loved ones.
______________________


EDIT: it turns out it only takes me about 67 seconds to walk to school. I didn't realize just how close I'd managed to get.

I returned to the hostel to cancel the rest of my nights, but I couldn’t cancel that very night, which was okay because I had to figure out how to get my big suitcases from the hostel to my new apartment. I’d just hire a taxi in the morning, I figured. I went to sit out on a patio at the hostel, just grinning like the Cheshire cat because I’d found a great apartment in my price range on my third day here, and there was a guy with a case of Heinekens, just playing music on his little laptop and smoking cigarettes in the sunshine. I asked him if I could buy a beer off of him, and he said, “Oh shit you can just have one!” And then another girl came outside. So the three of us were chatting. Ollie was from a tiny island off of England where he was an orchid farmer/pot smoker (his literal description when asked what he did was that he worked at an orchid farm and just grew flowers and got high all day), and Tiffany was an American from Flagstaff on her way to study abroad in Adelaide, Australia (which is where Abbey studied abroad in undergrad and loved it). Eventually we were joined by a Swiss guy and an Italian guy, all just sitting outside drinking beer and talking about travelling and soccer and, inevitably, American politics.

But I had to leave the party because I had dinner scheduled with Mike and Kristy and Gloria, who’s another Kiwi from the law school going to study abroad in Virginia soon. Great dinner at a Japanese restaurant. Before I left the States I’d joked several times that I planned to eat my weight in sushi while here. I need to pick up the pace to accomplish that goal, since I’ve only had sushi twice in 5 days at present.

I told them all about my afternoon adventure in scoring an apartment, and Kristy offered to take me back to my hostel and drive my big suitcases to the new apartment after dinner so I didn’t have to get a taxi the next morning. Goodness, these people are great.

ATTENTION LAW SCHOOL PEOPLE FROM HOME: there are two New Zealanders headed your way in August who have been fun and friendly and generous and just generally awesome. I expect you to treat them the same way in my honor.

Day 2

Time to begin the apartment hunt in earnest. I have access to the internet so I can go and sift through the website that most people agree is going to be the best way to find an apartment: trademe.co.nz. Even the real estate agencies list the apartments that they manage on the site, in addition to all independent landlords. It’s not quite as easy to use as Craig’s List, mainly because rent is listed per week here and it’s often unclear what exactly is included in the rent and how big the apartment actually is. A listing for a one-bedroom apartment could mean a teeny tiny studio, or a bedroom available in a multi-bedroom apartment, or it could mean what we understand to be a one-bedroom apartment (kitchen + livingroom + separate bedroom). Also, I needed a furnished apartment with a bed and desk and kitchen furnishings. A landlord that says furnished could mean there is a bed and a refrigerator, with literally nothing else. Or there could be a bed with sheets,

The very first apartment I looked at was in a high rise apartment building that’s called “student accommodation.” This means your room has a twin-size bed, a mini fridge, a little sink, a small wardrobe, and a teeny tiny bathroom with the teeniest stall shower you’re ever seen. There’s a communal kitchen for which you have to supply all of your own pots, pans, dishes, silverware, etc. Electricity is not included in the rent (which is common across the board), and rent for this teeny studio runs from $670-765/mo depending on whether or not you want a view. Let me emphasize that the room is probably 10’ x10’, and I’m not joking. Subtract the square footage occupied by bed, wardrobe, fridge, etc., and there’s not enough space to turn around. The building is very new and clean, but good lord, I think I might become claustrophic.

So I continue on trademe and make some phone calls, schedule some appointments to view apartments for Wednesday. I stopped into a real estate agency that I’d been told about, and the apartment prices were out of reach. But I was curious to see what an apartment centrally located in the city would look like, so I scheduled another viewing for Wednesday.

All the while I just trucked around the city, getting my bearings and becoming familiar with the weird street system and the university campus. Even though coming here without an actual place to live is out of character for me, I was quite glad that I hadn’t committed to anything before even getting a chance to look at apartments or figure out what part of the city I might like to live in. I know now that if I’d found a place on trademe and agreed to it before even coming here, it very likely would have turned out to be a disappointment because after traversing the city and finding the law school, I knew that there was one particular area that I really wanted to find a place in.

As it was only my second day, I wasn’t too anxious about finding a place yet, especially since I had some appointments the following day. And I got to meet and have lunch with the two New Zealand students who are heading to IU Law for the fall semester: Mike and Kristy. If you guys are reading this, um … well … hi! Don’t be embarrassed! You’re my two favorite new people, and I need to brag about you. The NZ semester starts in mid-July, so I had to get here early, but these two don’t have to leave for the States until early August. After emailing over the last few months, it was such a pleasure to get to meet them and have a long lunch. The extremely basic parts about living in a new place (like where’s the grocery store? Which bank should I choose? Why do some phone numbers have 6 digits and others 7 or 8? Where’s the discount store, for chrissakes?) are just details, but man is it great to have some natives to ask questions. I think during lunch most of the conversations were prefaced by me saying, “This might sound like a dumb question, but…” Anyhow, if you know me, you know I love food. Mike had picked a brewpub. It’s like he could read my mind. For lunch I had chicken, steak, prawn, and shrimp skewers (which the menu called surf and turf) with a chardonnay pea puree and a little salad of spicy greens. And a couple of dark Celtic beers. Delicious.

The sun sets here around 5 or 5:30pm. It’s winter, after all. It was my second day in the city, and after Mike walked me back to my hostel, there were just a couple hours left of daylight. But my waking/sleeping schedule was still a little off, and I was exhausted. So I just relaxed a the hostel for the rest of the evening.

A note about hostels:

The YHA (Youth Hostel Association) of New Zealand is by far the very best hostel I have ever stayed in. The university booked my stay for me, so I had a good member discount, and I was in a 4-person room, so the entirety of my 8-night reservation would cost me about $133. For future reference, I’m generally converting NZD to USD for you so you don’t have to do any math. Since I had so much stuff with me, I was a little nervous about leaving anything of value in a room that 3 other people had keys to, so I pretty much carted around my laptop, converters, and any other important items just for piece of mind. I’m still sore from so many days of carrying heavy stuff around the city, but (SPOILER ALERT) none of my stuff from my two great big suitcases left in the room was stolen. The YHA had comfortable beds, warm comforters, piping hot showers that were quite clean, super friendly and helpful reception staff, plenty of maps, and a communal kitchen with tons of cooking equipment. The only thing that was not on par with other hostels that I’ve stayed in was that they didn’t offer breakfast. But no big deal in the grand scheme of things.

Anyhow, I chilled at the hostel and went to bed early because I was getting up super early the next day for World Cup!

So it begins

In the final weeks before I left, a handful of my closest friends made extra special efforts to see me off. One took me up to Indy for dinner, drinks, and a band at Radio Radio. Another climbed the fence of a closed pool with me. And then others planned a beautiful good-bye dinner followed by a night out with everyone I knew in town invited. The last few days in Bloomie were sunny and lovely, with the heat even dropping into the 70s just for me. And my last day in town I got to sit outside with a few of my favorites for lunch and a few beers, and then head up to Indy for dinner with more favorites. I spent the last few days at my mom's house in Indy, and my lovely mother helped me with the daunting task of figuring out what to pack for 5-6 months in a very different climate and then figuring out how to pack all of that into TSA approved specifications. She also took me for my very first mani-pedi. Unbeatable.

And then the adventure began. Indy to Phoenix. Phoenix to LAX. LAX to Auckland. Normally I’d be amped up for travelling just the Indiana to California bit of the trip, but I didn’t care at all about it. I had a book and a couple of issues of The New Yorker, but all I could think about was the exchange in LAX. Since I booked my domestic and international flights separately, I had to collect my luggage from Southwest at LAX and move to another terminal to check in at Air New Zealand. But each flight was on time, and my bags came around the carousel quickly. The first flight I was in an empty row, but the Phoenix to LAX leg I was in a full row, and apparently it only takes one Jack and coke for your seatmate to begin explaining to you how Obama is stripping away our very freedoms and liberty. Excellent.

I was so nervous about a delayed flight or lost baggage that I gave myself four and a half hours of leeway at LAX. Naturally because I’d prepared for a problem, all of the flights were punctual and my luggage was fine. So by the time I was through security in the new terminal, I had about three and a half hours to blow. But once more, the flight was on time, and I was soon in the air with an empty seat between me and a woman in the aisle seat. Fabulous.

Special thanks to Abbey for insisting that I would want a full size pillow for the twelve and a half hour flight. By the time I’d watched a movie and the crew served dinner, I was ready to sleep. The flight had taken off at 11:45pm, which meant it was about 2:45am at home, and I’d been up since 7am. I figure I slept about 6 or 7 hours and had only one little bout of panic when there was some pretty good turbulence and we were over the Pacific AND OBVIOUSLY GOING TO DIE. But then we didn’t. I’ll mention for the first time here that I love wine, and I particularly love New Zealand wine and always have, even years before this opportunity came into my life. The dinner tray included the cutest, tiniest wine glass ever (it may have found its way into my carryon), and you can get wine or soda or whatever with dinner, and then the crew comes back around a little while later with bottles of wine offering top ups. When a crew member came around with tea later, he asked me if I have milk. I looked at him dumbly. Struck with a sudden case of the stupids, I repeated, “Do I have milk?” Even though he realized I was an idiot, he gently rephrased: “Do you take milk with your tea?” Oh ha ha. Yes thank you.

For breakfast you could have a fruit plate or a hot plate, and I obviously got the hot plate which consisted of eggs with chives, a few little tater tots, and a tomato wedge. Plus a little bowl of fruit and yogurt. And orange juice. And a flight attendant comes around when you’re halfway done with breakfast and you’re groggy and says, “Bubbles?” And I look at her dumbly, which is becoming a recurring theme, and say, “Pardon?” And she holds up a bottle of champagne. Why yes, dear lady. I would love some champagne.

After winding through customs and assuring immigration that I only had processed, packaged foods with me, no nuts or seeds or plants or fresh fruit at all I SWEAR SHEESH, I was greeted by the university representative Maarten with a sign that read “University of Auckland.” I’d kind of been hoping the sign would have my name on it, but this service is for international students arriving in New Zealand for the first time, so I suppose a uni sign is more efficient. Maarten took me to the hostel I’d booked, made sure I was checked in safely, and gave me a little tote bag with pamphlets and maps and candy and a juice box from the university.

So here’s the thing. I moved to New Zealand without a place to live. Sure I had a hostel booked for 8 nights, but no real place to live. There was the option of university housing, which varies from 8 little apartments with a communal kitchen and cafeteria to 100 little apartments with a communal kitchen and cafeteria. But they all come with dorm-like rules like all visitors must vacate by 1am and you need written permission to have friends over to drink. I’m too old for that crap, so I decided to learn from the John Hursh School of Moving to Another Country Without a Place to Live. There’s a website here that is very much like Craig’s List, and also plenty of real estate agencies that manage and rent out apartments. The real estate agent way is by far the easiest way since you just walk into an office and pick an apartment and pay them money. This is probably a very popular route to housing for those who arrive without a place to live sorted out. The problem with that for me is that you pay them lots of money. You pay them overpriced rent, and you pay them a nice bond, and you pay them a nice agent’s fee since they worked so hard to find you the apartment. I came close to thinking about caving and just going with that since it’s so easy, but I kept calm and carried on.

Day 1

Arrival. I can’t check into the hostel until 2pm. It’s 8am. Crap. I leave the luggage in a room for early arrivals and venture out to put a sim card in the phone Abbey let me borrow. I need to be able to make local phone calls if I’m going to arrange to look at apartments. Have I mentioned it’s 50 degrees and windy and raining? It’s winter here. It’s 90 degrees at home and the sun beats you into a pulp, and here I’m shivering because I’ve forgotten how to be in cold weather.

Once I’d dealt with the phone, I headed to the university to get me some internet. I got my student ID and internet password, and then I stumbled upon a computer lab. After dicking around on the computer for a while, I went and found a buffet sushi lunch, and then checked into the hostel. I know that taking a nap on the day of arrival is generally regarded to be a cardinal sin when trying to avoid jetlag. But by 2:30 in the afternoon I’d been awake for something like 9 hours already, and I knew I’d never make it to a normal bedtime. So I set an alarm for one hour, snoozed it for another hour, and then got up to take a shower. By the time I’d gotten ready and went back up to school, sent some more emails and walked around the city more, I was tired enough that I knew I’d be able to sleep. But not before I got some delicious lamb kebab for dinner.

more later...