Workload

I wanted to write sooner but my schoolwork got in the way. It’s hard to believe that it’s been a month since I arrived in Middle Earth because the weather hasn’t changed at all. The North Island is being hit by a severe thunderstorm whereas down here in the south, it’s just been raining non-stop. I mean it just won’t stop; just keeps coming and coming like an out-of-control Energizer Bunny. I’m surprised that I haven’t had to swim or paddle my way to class.

The month of July has been devoted to lectures in English, Professional Studies, Social Studies, E-Learning, and Maori Studies. When I was an undergrad, taking 5 classes at once was impossible but this schedule is easier because they’re not overloading us with homework, but preparing us for teaching practice in 2 weeks. The only assignments I have to worry about are writing lesson plans and a PowerPoint presentation following the New Zealand Curriculum.

All I know so far is where I’ll be teaching: St. Thomas of Canterbury College. It’s a Catholic all-boys school not far from where I live so getting there shouldn’t be a problem. It would be nice to know what I’ll be teaching but I guess they’re keeping me in suspense. I’m glad I brought a suit with me because the college has a dress code in place. I’ll be teaching one hour lessons at St. Thomas for seven weeks, starting in early August. I’m not all that nervous because I’ve taught at a cadet camp back in Canada for 5 consecutive summers.

Tomorrow, a large number of principals are coming to the C of E to talk to us trainee teachers about their schools and why we should apply to work there. Maybe I’ll find a high school I’ll like if I decide to stay here for another year to build up my work experience and make my CV look better. We shall see this Friday.

(Pic is of the Flower Tower in Cathedral Square)

Eating Habits

As the rain & cold winds come and go, I’ll pass the time writing about nourishing oneself on a student budget. Since I don’t have a job that pays, I’m forced to limit my spending because my account is only going down. With that kind of financial picture, only one word becomes your best friend: bargain(s). You have to look for the best deals on groceries and everything.

Living in a different part of the world sounds wonderful but once you calculate the annual cost of living there, you uncover the hidden, and sometimes difficult, challenge of surviving. For me, money has to cover tuition, residence, food, school supplies, laundry, transportation, health products, and entertainment! Yeah, quite a challenge, although I’m glad I’ve saved several hundreds of dollars by not having to buy textbooks.

So, what does my diet consist of? A little bit of everything . . . I think. Since I don’t eat much, I aim for two meals a day plus little snacks in between, as well as stopping by the nearby Woolworth’s twice a week to restock. There’s also a Countdown but I haven’t stepped foot in it yet. I arrived with the plan of spending $100NZD a week. In reality, I spend no more than $70NZD. My parents think I’m starving, but like I said, the ‘b’ word is now my close friend. I’m not sure what the exchange rate is between Canadian & New Zealand dollars so I just treat NZD like they were CAND.

My older brother, Roman, is currently studying in Australia and he says he only spends $50AUS a week on food. I can’t seem to imagine that since I’m living on an expensive island in the southern hemisphere. Maybe he goes into detail on his BLOG - The Great Journey Continues.

For breakfast I have either dry cereal, yogurt, eggs, juice, and vitamin pills for the extra boost. It took a bit longer to find the right kind of milk because New Zealand uses a different classification system. In Canada, there’s 1%, 2%, 3%, and skim milk. Here, it’s original, trim, lite, extra trim, and extra slim. Turns out trim suits me; original was . . . too original.

For lunch I’m mostly a sandwich man. Since New Zealand doesn’t sell the ham I like (Black Forest), I’ve had to rely on smoked salmon. I eat it once or twice a week. As for bread, I usually buy a baguette ($1.48) or a pre-made loaf ($3.40). To save money, I put in pieces of spring mix salad so that I don’t have to buy a whole lettuce. And I can’t forget the mayo and tomatoes! I just found the Chinese noodles aisle so I’ll be able to save more because each package only costs about 65 cents. For the curious Canadian, there’s no Kraft Dinner but that’s not a problem for me. I made KD once and I’m never doing it again – it was that bad.

Dinner is usually a snack meal and I just have a spring mix salad. Last time, I decided to be creative and added smoked salmon to the tomatoes, vinaigrette, and green mix. The concoction was edible but I decided to confine the salmon to sandwiches. Since I treat dinner as a more formal affair, I sometimes snack on crackers and Brie cheese.

If I need to stay awake during class, I sneak in a nutritional bar (like granola) or a mandarin.

Before I could enjoy all the delicious food mentioned and those I have yet to taste, I had to buy several kitchen items. First was cutlery; even though my flat came with them, there were always being used by my roommates so I bought store brand plastic cutlery. It’s the cheapest and now I have enough knives, forks, and spoons for my needs and for a party. I also bought two wooden bowls, bread cutter knife, egg slicer, and corkscrew opener for wine. Well, what can you expect? It is campus residence. My flat has a stove but not an oven, but a micro-oven. I’m thinking about buying a steel drainer bin because it’s tough to make Chinese noodles without it.

So that’s what I’ve been eating since I arrived and have been feeling fine. I save $30 weekly meaning money for other priorities. As my time here progresses I’ll expand my food making knowledge . . . and do my best not to blow up the kitchen while doing it.

Mount Pleasant

It turns out I only had to postpone my hiking plans by one day. The sun came back this past Sunday and it felt as if Christchurch was in the eye of the scattered showers. I didn’t waste this opportunity by hopping onto the fastest bus to Mount Pleasant, a residential district that rests on a large hill.

Mt. Pleasant sits at the southeastern edge of the city and is home to many of Christchurch’s middle to upper class citizens. Expensive, tropical mansions stick out from the hilltops, bringing images of Los Angeles, Tucson, and the Caribbean to mind. In my situation, Mt. Pleasant is on the other side of town, but luckily, I only had to take one bus to get there. The ride took about an hour and the further the bus drove away from the city centre, the more tropical the area appeared. The suburbs near Mt. Pleasant appear as a Britianized Los Angeles.

Since I was travelling into ‘uncharted’ territory I had to guess when to get off. As the bus climbed & climbed, I decided to get off before it went down. Turns out, I made the right choice. When I stepped off the bus, I explored the district on foot, examining the layout, flora, and getting great shots of the valley below. Other people used the mountainous area for exercise; joggers and bikers shared the road with the speeding motorists.

The hillsides that couldn’t be used for housing were made into grazing land for the many sheep that populate this southern hemisphere country. They’re hundreds of them! All casually sitting & walking around eating grass, and never taking their eyes off of me until I snapped the picture. After I had enough of New Zealand’s animal majority, I hiked off to the summit of Mt. Cavendish.

(A local Mt. Pleasant resident smiles for the camera.)

A tourist trap sits at the top & bottom of this mountain: a gondola for the few who don’t want to hike the distance. As I approached the mountain, professional bicyclists whizzed by me at high speeds, taking advantage of the dips in the landscape. The panoramic view is exquisite: 360 degrees of Christchurch, Canterbury Plains, Southern Alps, Banks Peninsula, and the Pacific Ocean. I felt like I was on top of the world! Wait a second. Since I’m in New Zealand, I was feeling like I was on the bottom of the world!

Rather than take the gondola, I went back the way I came so that I could catch the #21 bus to take me back to the university before the cold night settled. Since I was tired from hiking up & down, I followed the wrong direction of the bus route for a bit before I remembered to change direction. By the time I caught the bus and made it back, night had come and I was in need of rest.

I was glad to have done it because the rain came back on Monday and everyday this week.

First Week

“The first week is always the hardest and the longest.” I have heard and used that saying many times before and it somewhat applies to me. My first academic week is over and it came and went at a slow pace because I was still getting used to the surroundings. I know where all my classes will be taking place, where most of my colleagues are residing, which busses to take, where I can get the Internet, and where to pick up food & alcohol. I’m nearing my comfort zone with every passing day and I should be there shortly.


I’ve also gotten used to the minor differences like the smaller but colourful currency (the Queen is also on the $20 bill!), mirrored driving, accents, and the electrical sockets. The sockets are similar to the ones in North America except slanted inwards. With an extra slit below, it looks like they are horrified of my presence. Because New Zealand’s currency has one & two dollar coins I have the tendency to call them loonies & toonies. What’s interesting is that there are no 1, 5, or 25 cent coins. There’s only 10, 20, & 50. I’m doing my best to manage my finances because New Zealand is an expensive place. It makes me wonder how the locals can survive?

The weather here is gloomy. I had planned to go hiking but the wet & overcast atmosphere made me postpone that activity. There’s scattered showers happening all over the country, but I hope the sun will come back soon. When the sun was here, I walked downtown for exercise and took a few shots. Downtown has very few tall buildings and many expensive shops & restaurants. Come to think about it, all of Christchurch is made up of low rise buildings. Maybe the locals are scared of the sky?


(Christchurch Art Gallery & Bridge of Rememberance)

I also took a stroll through Hagley Park which is Christchurch's 'Central Park.' The park is split into North & South, and are filled with grass fields, towering trees, Botanic Gardens, and hundreds of ducks.

My classes are small, hovering around 20 people, and are mostly conducted in a lecture-like manner. Some classes have two professors who rotate throughout the semester.

To keep myself sane and active, I joined the Ski & Snoboard, and Mountain Bike clubs. For the time being, I’ll confine myself to renting & borrowing. In time, I might invest in a mountain bike and accessories.

That’s how the first week of school turned out. Once the academic year gets going and the weather clears up, the fun will come.

A Mäori Welcome

To officially welcome the midyear intake students into the College of Education at the University of Canterbury, a Pōwhiri Welcome Ceremony was organized on Monday, July 14^th, 2008 before lunchtime. It was at this ceremony I would get a first glimpse of New Zealand’s native culture.

The Mäori are the Natives of New Zealand and have lived on this land far before the arrival of the British. Of course, the British, thinking they were all superior, tried to destroy the Mäori culture and language, and assimilate its people. They failed. The Treaty of Waitangi of 1840 guaranteed the existence and autonomy of the Mäori way of life and the teaching of its culture in the school system so that New Zealanders would be more aware and understanding. However, because the English and Maori versions of the treaty differ, it has created frustration when it came to interpretation and implementation. The British New Zealanders only honoured the treaty for less than a year, leading to many Maori uprisings and rebellions. There still exists a very rocky relationship between Maori and the British settlers because of this treaty and British imperial ambitions. This reminds me of the rocky relationship between English & French Canadians.

If Canada only had one Native tribe to deal with, my guess is that the school system would have followed the path of New Zealand, but the presence of many First Nations made that impossible. Instead, it's French language & culture that is stressed in the system, not First Nations. How sad.

The Pōwhiri is a short ceremony that follows a certain traditional format. My only complaint is that we were instructed on the format of the ceremony and not given any sheets with the Mäori speeches translated into English. All what I and the other mid-year students could do was pretend to understand what was being said.

The College faculty and February intake students were the Tangata whenua, meaning greeters. The midyear intake students were the Manuhiri, or newcomers.

The Pōwhiri began with a Karanga. A Call of Welcome is given by a woman from the Tangata Whenua which is responded by a woman representing the Manuhiri. As the Karangas are being exchanged, the Manuhiri were escorted into the auditorium and stood in front of designated seats before being asked to sit. The Tangata Whenua & Manuhiri sit on opposite sides of the auditorium facing each other.

Next came the Whaikörero, a Speech of Welcome given in Mäori by a male speaker from the Tangata Whenua. The welcome concluded with a Waiata – a song of support. A male student, who spoke Maori, then gave a speech on behalf of the Manuhiri and that as well concluded with a Waiata, entitled E Tu Kahikatea. Kahikatea is a kind of tree. (And let’s just say, I sang so well that no one could hear me.) It’s a short song with only 4 lines:

E tu Kahikatea
Hei whakapae ururoa
Awhi mai awhi atu
Tatou tatou e [x2]

Stand tall Kahikatea
Spreading out across the horizon
Embrace me, embrace others
All of us together [x2]

After singing that twice came the final part, the Hongi & Haririu, the exchanging of the traditional greeting which is the pressing of the noses and the shaking of hands. Luckily we only had to do it to the faculty or else we would have spent a good 15 minutes exchanging the greeting with all the February intake students. The shaking of hands is supposed to symbolize the passing of Mauri, or life force.

With the ceremony over, we were treated to a barbecue outside the auditorium. Since I was part of the group the ceremony was directed, I was unable to take any pictures. However, I was reassured that I would be part of the Tangata Whenua in 6 months, greeting the February intake students, so maybe I’ll have a chance then.

Home Away From Home

After hopping 4 flights, waiting in 3 international airports, and acquiring 18 hours of flight time, I finally arrived in Christchurch, New Zealand on the morning of July 5^th. To this day, the 12 hour trans-Pacific flight felt more like 9 hours. Perhaps I managed to dose off and lose track of time. It wasn’t until after I picked up my luggage I started seeing my situation through the eyes of an explorer: on my own, on the other side of the planet, and no friends or relatives to assist me. Not bad for a start. Of course, reality tends to throw a few curve balls along the way. I only had to suffer two.

The first one was that I couldn’t find the shuttle that was supposed to take me to the University of Canterbury. I forgot to ask where to meet them. So I bit the bullet and took a cab. I was glad that the university wasn’t that far.

And the second was the strong, cold autumn wind that welcomed me after I exited the terminal. Nevertheless, I made it safely to my campus residence without any problems.

My first impressions of Christchurch while I stared out of the taxicab window, (front left seat; the driver sits on the right), was that it looked like a British Canadian city. British because of the road signs, rounded vehicles, and left-sided driving; Canadian because of the similar weather. It wouldn’t be until I examined the architecture closely that my impressions would change. Of course, I can’t forget the Australian touch; the accent of New Zealanders makes it feel like Australia.


I settled into my room in the campus residence district named Ilam Village. It’s pronounced ‘ee-lum’; I kept saying ‘eye-lum’ until I arrived. The district sits between the main university and the secluded College of Education. My room is a little longer than the perfect square I had to live for 22 years back home, but has the same width. I don’t want to brag but after I unpacked and settled into my surroundings, my room appears to be the cleanest. I guess that tidiness came from the 5 years I spent in army cadets. My room is in a flat that fits 5 people; 2 men and 3 women. I’m the only Canadian. The other guy is from Paris, France. One woman is from Signapore, and the other two are New Zealanders from the southern part of the island. We’re all one big happy family . . . for now.

Even though I arrived on my own, I came here as part of the CANTEACH program, designed to assist students interested in becoming primary, secondary, and gym teachers, and giving them a chance to see the world. The program gives you the choices of New Zealand, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. I am one of the 13 Canadians who came to U of C in July. I was surprised to learn that only I and another Canadian lived in campus residence. Everyone else decided to live in private residences . . . and some are still searching.

I enrolled in the Graduate Diploma of Secondary Teaching, meaning once I graduate in June 2009, I’ll be a certified high school teacher in music & history, and allowed to teach in New Zealand and the province of Ontario, Canada. What’s different about the NZ school system is that there are no school boards like in Canada; all the schools are self-sufficient. It’s the principals who hire and retain teachers. During orientation, I counted around 32 students who are in the same program that I’m in. I’ve also begun looking at taking some self defence courses once the year gets going; high school kids can get pretty . . . active at times, and maybe I’ll find out since my program has a 14 week teaching component where I’m placed in a classroom situation.

Naturally, my classes will take place at the College of Education, a secluded campus that appears like a Caribbean resort with palm trees and tropical plants surrounding the aging buildings. The main university campus is a different story, with solid grey concrete being the main building component. The architectural style brings the feeling of studying in the Soviet Union. Overall, emphasis was placed on the buildings interiors; clean, renovated, and modern looking, while the outside continues to age. This kind of approach was the same when I studied in Western Ukraine back in 2006.

(The Wheki Building on the C of Ed Campus. I wonder if I can order a marguerita during classes?)

(Main Registry Building, comrade)

(James Hights Library, comrade)

(Chemistry & Physics Building, comrade)

Well, with orientation over and the weekend now upon me, I have two more days of freedom to savour before the academic year begins on Monday. I’ve already met many students who come from all over the world to study here in Christchurch and the locals are very kind to us foreigners. I should also check what sort of stationary I should buy before the big whopper hits: textbooks. I’ll feel the pain of having to spend so much on textbooks I’ll only be using once, but I’ll feel better . . . once I pay using my parents credit card.

(Ilam Village BBQ on Friday)

I Didn't Exist

A void now exists in my life. Due to the way time zones are set, I experienced time travel and leapt into the future, skipping July 4^th. I ceased to be on that day; I was gone. If anyone asks me what I did on July 4^th 2008, I won’t be able to answer because it never happened. It is a black hole in my timeline.

My flight from Los Angeles to Auckland was an overnighter. The plane took off on the evening of July 3^rd. At that same moment, it was the evening of July 4^th in Auckland. By the time the crowded plane I was on crossed the International Dateline, it was the morning of July 5^th. Since I was a passenger, I didn’t have the authority to tell the pilots to turn around. I had lost 24 hours in an instant. Well, not lost; more like moved ahead.

Crossing the Dateline has permanently shifted my timeline ahead by 24 hours. So when I arrived in Auckland on the morning of July 5^th, my body was still thinking it was July 4^th. This reminds me of hotels not putting floor 13 buttons on their elevators. Doing that doesn’t mean the 13^th floor has disappeared. The 13^th floor is now the 14^th, and the 14^th is now the 15^th, and so on and so on. But since this whole time change is on a world scale, my mind had to cope with the change, by giving me a whopping headache on Sunday.

I suppose the only way to reverse this leap into the future would be to fly back across the International Dateline in the opposite direction. I’ll gain back the day I lost. I’m not certain when that leap into the past will come so until then, I never experienced July 4^th, 2008.

I didn’t exist.

(The picture is not of my trans-Pacific flight but when I was arriving to Los Angeles. I could have taken a picture of of my trans-Pacific crossing but it would have been all black.)

Waiting

Six hours.

Six. Long. Hours. And I'm not waiting for hospital treatment. I'm waiting for my next flight to bring me closer to Middle Earth. I wish I could leave the airport and explore Vancouver like I did three years earlier but I can't. I have to wait before I'm in the air again. I feel like the American ground forces waiting for the order to storm into Iraq during Gulf War I, only to be done in 100 hours. In my case, a 6 hour wait for a 2 hour flight.

Luckily, I write this after surviving the first three hours and all I can say is that I'm going nuts! Okay, maybe not, but finding things to do is a challenge. In the first three hours, I've gone through USA customs, transferred my luggage, started a BLOG, checked my e-mail, ate lunch, and visited the bathroom several times. It's getting tiresome dragging my laptop & backpack everywhere I go but better than having to do that with the rest of my luggage! I suppose I could find something to read.

I only have a small, wandering bird to keep me company. He or She must have flown into the terminal through a door and survives on food that passengers have dropped. I've already fed it some of my nuts. Cashew nuts to be exact. The bird has disappeared for now, maybe airport staff let it out, but maybe it'll come back before I have to board my flight.

Oh wait. I can hear the bird, chirping; probably singing about its wanting freedom. Now it's flown closer and eating some crumbs off a chair behind me. It hops across the chairs, its search for food never ending. It's gone again, to the safety of the ceiling. It'll be back.

I should savour this long wait because I'll soon be in LAX for a short period then flying over the Pacific to Auckland, and I doubt I'll use my laptop in the air. I hope there won't be any crying babies or annoying passengers on the trans-Pacific flight.

Well, that's pretty much it for now.

And the wait goes on . . .

Before I Leave The Canadian Continent

Before I left incontinent, I mean the continent, I travelled to the city of Regina, Saskatchewan to visit my relatives on my mother's side, meaning my grandmother, uncle, and my cousins. You could say, there is a lot of wheat in my family blood.

Aside from two annoying kids sitting behind me, my Air Canada flight went well. I was glad that I wasn't flying WestJet because I would have to put up with the Trying-Too-Hard-To-Be-Nice flight attendants.

Regina is a farmer's city of a 300,000 with new suburban & commercial developments springing up everywhere. Nevertheless, one can drive across the entire city in a few minutes.

Anyway, my grandmother greeted me with open arms, fed me very well, and showed me the sites of Regina before I had to leave four days later in the early morning. I mostly munched on Grandmother's Choice, such as cow tongue, cinnamon buns, homemade wonton soup, and sweet caramel wafers, until my stomach could handle no more. Staying at her house brought back many childhood memories.

Grandma & I drove over to the Regina Beach area located 30 minutes north of the city, to visit my uncle, his wife, & his four hyperactive children (my cousins) at his new cottage. They call it a cottage but it looks more like a second home with a great view of the lake. My uncle is in the real-estate business and knows how to make profitable deal. He has to since everything around him costs money: wife, kids, two gas-guzzling SUVs ($220 for a full tank each!), food, clothes, etc. As always, the 1980s never left him because he still has traces of the iconic mullet hairstyle. We spent that day having steak, talking about my trip, drinking beer, and watching my 8-year old cousin Jordan going insane on drumpads set to the Wii game RockBand.

For Canada Day, I visited the Governor's House and the RCMP's new heritage museum. The city was bustling with excitment over the celebration of the creation of Canada in 1867 . . . not its independence in 1931. The day after, grandma took me to the Provincial House of Parliament for a quick tour of the library, red-carpeted legislature, portrait gallery, marble attrium, and of course, the gift shop.

On the morning of my flight, grandma bid me farewell in the same energy she greeted me four days earlier.

Overall, travelling to my see the prairie side of my family was pleasant & enjoyable and I would visit again any day.

BME Welcome

As I sit here at the Vancouver International Airport waiting for my flight to Los Angeles (3 hours & counting down) I've decided, along with the suggestions of friends & family, to document my journey to 'Middle Earth' (New Zealand) via cyberspace. Hence, a BLOG. This is my first BLOG, so I hope I get it write the first time.

Some of you are asking as to why I should BLOG this journey? This is why:
1. Never been to New Zealand before.
2. I'm going there to become a high school teacher, certified to teach in NZ & Ontario, Canada.
3. Family & Friends have been 'kindly suggesting' that I BLOG my trip.
4. I'm staying there for a year and in a country of 4 million people & 40 million sheep, there must be something interesting to do . . . and all that gas.

I'll be based at the University of Canterbury located in Christchurch. I hear it's a nice place but I'll confirm that view via personal experiences.

As to how many BLOG entries I'll do, I'm aiming for one a week, granting there is something interesting to say. I hope this BLOG will enlighten & inform its readers about this small country in a far corner of the planet.

Enjoy.