Skiffer the Drifter

THIS just made me do a spit-take.

Last Sunday was rough. This Sunday is not shaping up much better.

Last Sunday, I woke with a hangover, despite having not drunk too much the night before. Tired, grumpy, and (oddly) with a sore throat, I woke to a sunny day that promised everything good and wonderful in the world. So I got my sorry bum out of bed and dragged it (with coffee) up to Wainui to teach my Nippers.

Nippers are little wannabe Surf Lifesavers. They go from 2 years old to 14 and teaching them is easily the highlight of my week. I teach the 8- and 9-year-olds, and there are about 20 eager young kids who naively assume that I actually know what I'm talking about. I find it both touching and slightly panic-inducing that they're so trusting. It makes me feel like an imposter. Sometimes I just want to shout, "Do you know how far it is from Iowa to the nearest ocean?!?!?!" But of course they don't. They couldn't imagine a distance that far even if they did know. And, I have a Surf Lifeguard Uniform, including an Official Rash Top. Which means I am A Responsible Adult. And the Nippers were all very keen to enjoy the rather smooth waters that are a rare sight on Wainui's famously rough beach, so if Larry the Cable Guy had shown up and told them to start swimming, they would have jumped right in and stopped about the time they hit Peru. And I was really proud of them, because they were all getting really, really good at wading and body surfing, so it was obviously time to start introducing new concepts.

Notice the plural, because therein lies the new instructor's downfall.

Yup. I tried to introduce two new skills to 20 hyperactive munchkins in the space of an hour on Sunday morning. And halfway through that hour, the tide changed, meaning that a nasty shorebreak developed, with angry dumping waves that just couldn't wait to throw unsuspecting 8-year-olds to the sand and stomp on their cute little heads. Just as I (and my endlessly patient but equally clueless co-teacher) were trying to teach dolphin diving and board-riding skills.

By the end of the hour, 5 kids were in tears. And I wasn't that far tears myself. I felt terrible. I dragged my hung-over tookus out to the beach and spent my morning making little kids cry. And then had to go to work. To try and convince a bunch of high school boys that they really did need to watch the 5-year-olds who were trying to run away from Mum and Dad and jump off the diving boards.

BUT WAIT! There's more!

A little while into my shift, R, my coworker and all-around surf-lifesaving guru, gets a call that he's needed urgently at Wainui. NOW. Some of the Nippers had stayed out to play, and Moko, the dolphin who thinks he's a person, dragged them out to sea. And there was no boat driver out there to scare away the dolphin and bring the little ones back in. Later I learned that they were not my Nippers, but part of the older group, but still. What a terrifying experiece. You're sitting there, happily boogie boarding on the shorebreak, and then, WHOOMP! a big dolphin pushes you out to sea. And won't let you back to shore. That'll be good for a few more kids in tears.

Stupid bloody dolphin.

It makes me almost glad that I won't be there this Sunday, as everyone who teaches Nippers is going to get a royal ass-chewing. Even if renegade dolphins are totally Not Our Fault. But I'm going to miss that. Instead, I'll be up in Mount Maunganui, doing a triathlon.

What distance? Funny you should ask...

That hangover? Not a hangover. Start of a rather nasty bit of cold, which morphed into strep throat/laringytis and knocked me flat on my bum starting Monday morning. Over the last four days, I've averaged 14 and a half hours of sleep a day. And food? Well, I had some gluten-free toast and soup today. I felt queasy afterward, but I ate it. That's victory, man.

So, now I don't know what to do about Sunday. Today is the first day I've managed to stay awake for more than four hours at a time, and it's all I can do to keep from lacing up my shoes and running 5K. (Yet again, a sign of how life has changed in the last two years.) But the productive cough that I feel in my chest keeps stopping me. If it weren't for the cough, or it it were a dry cough, I would be totally running right now instead of griping on my lj page. But I know if I want to have any chance of racing on Sunday, I've got to take it easy tonight.

Sunday is supposed to be my first attempt at a standard or Olympic-distance triathlon, a race that I figure will take me about 3 hours to complete, depending on the wind. That's about the same amount of time people take to run their first marathon, usually. Most people don't run their first marathons sick. At this point, I've come up with three options:

1. Don't race. Pros: I'll get nice and healthy quickly and won't have to miss any more work due to illness Cons: I've trained for this for SIX MONTHS. It may or may not be my only chance to do a standard length triathlon in New Zealand. Also, I've trained for this for SIX MONTHS. And it will be a massive waste of both time and money if I sit at home and mope.

2. Email the directors and drop down to the sprint distance race. Pros: Can salvage some dignity, and it goes partway to redeeming all the work I've put in. I have an excuse to go to the Mount, and I know I can do the distance, so unless I get worse, it seems pretty manageable. Cons: I'm not actually meeting my goal, which is to do a Standard length race. I'm covering old ground, and I'll have to tell my boss, Mr. Former Ironman Hawai'i, that I chickened out. (He doesn't brag about it or anything, but it still intimidates me a little, even if I love stealing all his triathlon knowledge. And I can't just not tell him; they post the results online, so he'll find out either way.)

3. Damn the torpedos, full speed ahead! Pros: Meeting my goal. Plus, I'll know that I can do more than I thought next time I doubt myself, and give me a true sense of pride. Cons: Risk of serious illness or injury is increased (this weighs heavily on my mind), might make myself worse and have to miss more work, it'll hurt a lot. A lot more, I mean.

Right now, I'm hedging my bets. Tomorrow, I'm going to do a light and easy walk/run and see how I feel, then make the call. I'm leaning towards the sprint distance right now, and I emailed the race directors to explain the situation. And, even though it is three days before one of the biggest triathlons in North Island, they took the time to reply and say I could choose my distance at registration on Saturday. Cool. So that's the plan for now. See how I feel tomorrow and decide my distance on Saturday.

So, this morning, I spent some time being a "Classroom Mum" for a teacher-friend's 6th Grade class, and it was A-maz-ing!  The kids are learning about Ancient Egypt right now, and so I spent the morning pretending to be a mummy in a tomb they were excavating (read: decorated corner of the classroom.)  And then I became a *talking* mummy and answered questions about Ancient Egypt.  THANK YOU WIKIPEDIA!  But the whole thing was just amazing, because it was very much directed by the students; they got to choose what items were in the tomb, and one kid got really into hieroglyphics and started writing and decoding messages, and another was going on and on about the mythology.  It was so neat to see the personalities coming out like that.

Also, I made my kumara and black bean chili, and it was delicious, as always.  And vegan. YUM. (Recipe available on request.  Well, it is kind of a recipe; it involves a lot of "and then throw in a good amount of this ingredient" type instructions.)

And this afternoon, I was really bummed out about working (Day #19 in a row; that is about 12 too many.)  But when I got to work, I got to teach kids how to play water polo/flippa ball.  Read: I got paid to play in the pool with a bunch of kids.  Awesome!  And the kids were really good; well behaved (which is rare), and they figured out flippa ball really, really quickly.

When the kids left, and I had just resigned myself to an afternoon of tedium, the National Kapa Haka Finals finished and about 300 hyper-active but surprisingly well behaved elementary school aged kids showed up to play on the hydroslide, hold races, swing on the tarzan rope, and just generally be adorable and have tons of fun.  Because of the classroom volunteering and work, I didn't get to go to the competition today, but you bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow I'll be there. I'll tell you more about Kapa Haka tomorrow, because I'll probably know a lot more about it by then.

And then I went for a walk tonight because it was still that warm, and found out that the surf is supposed to be just killer tomorrow, the weather is going to hold, and it was an absolutely gorgeous full moon, with a full ring around it about 20 degrees in radius, which is the largest ring around the moon I've ever seen.  It touched the horizon at it's lowest point.

Gosh, I love this place.

Also, those kids wore me out.  It is totally time for bed.

I love the way the rain smells during the spring.

Time to update the list of disasters I've survived:

1. Earthquake - check (a whole lot of checks, actually)
2. Hurricane - check
3. Severe thunderstorm (including hail and tornado warning) - check
4. Cyclone - check
5. Flood - check
6. terrorist attack - check
7. TSUNAMI - check

That's right, an honest-to-God TSU-FUCKING-NAMI.  It hit a couple days ago.

Like most of the disasters on the list (minus the terrorist attack), it was far less severe than it could have been.  For example, that hurricane?  Irene, you let me down by going down to a Cat 1 by the time you hit campus.  (Not that I'm really complaining.  I've seen what Katrina and WIlma did.)  That earthquake?  No-one died.  The Tsunami?  2 feet high.  But I'm getting ahead of myself.

So, once again, I got very, very, very lucky.  (Or unlucky for having to worry about it at all, depending on how you look at it.  But I'm going with lucky.)  Especially since I work *literally* across the road from the beach.  Like, seriously, less than 100 feet from the water (depending on the tide.)

A few days ago, while working on the morning shift, wishing I was in bed or at least had more coffee in my coffee cup, my coworker A comes down and says, "There's been an earthquake in Samoa and there's a tsunami warning for the whole of New Zealand."

At which point, my brain went DASF;JKLADSJFLKASADSL;KHHFDSOI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Tsunami + no coffee = broken brain)

"So, what does that mean?"

At which point A said he didn't know, they would wait and see if Civil Defense recommends evacuation, but that Samoa and American Samoa had been hit with massive loss of life.

Note to A: DON'T TELL ME THAT IF WE AREN"T RUNNING FOR THE HILLS.  In fact, don't tell me that until we are on top of Mount Hikurangi.  Maybe not even then.  Maybe wait until the wave has passed.

So, next followed a very tense hour, wherein I sat by the pool and thought, if I die, they might not even know for like 4 days because my family would have no way of knowing, and all sorts of other panicky-type thoughts until I basically got so sick of worrying about something that I couldn't control that I just started to wish that the damn wave would come and just get the whole thing over with. (I'm stupid enough that it never even occurred to me to just leave and head into the hills. So much for the survival instinct.)

At which point A came back down and said that Civil Defense had determined the tsunami would hit, but it would be only 50 centimeters high, and that we weren't to go to the beach.  And then let me go up to the staff room and refill my coffee cup.

I couldn't resist looking out the front windows, but that was as close to the beach as I wanted to get.  Over the road, the dunes form a slight rise on the edge of the beach.  The ridge stands about 5 feet above the high tide line, and on the ridge stood approximately 50 people, all looking for the great tsunami.

This reaction I do not understand.  If it is a big wave, why not run away?  But since it is only two feet tall, how would it look any different from a normal wave?  True, it sucks things out to sea, but at low tide, would you see it sucking?  And there was 3- to 4-foot surf that day, so the tsunami was actually smaller than the other waves.  How would you know which one was the wave you were looking for?

But still, I survived the tsunami of '09.  (Which NEEDS to be a t-shirt, by the way.) I really hope it is the only one, but there have already been two more earthquakes in Samoa, and they really don't need it.  Hundreds of people are dead, and thousands of Kiwis are affected (many Pacific Islanders have family in Samoa).  The Red Cross is collecting donations, if you're wondering.  But since doing a semi-thorough scouring of the Civil Defense website, it looks like waves from Samoa are unlikely to be big enough to make a difference when they hit NZ.  Chilean/Peruvian earthquakes are a different story.

I do find the science of this amazing.  An earthquake thousands of miles away creates a wave that reaches NZ in about 3 hours.  That's faster than you could fly to Samoa.  That's cool, in a very deadly sort of way.

October 24 - GWA Mini Loop Cycle Race  (26.4K cycle)
Nov 1 - Gisborne Herald 1/4 Marathon (10.6K run)
Nov 6 - IRB Driver's Award
December 6 - Tinman Olympic Length Triathlon, Mount Manganui (1500m swim, 40K cycle, 10K run)
March 27 - Surf to Sand Mount Manganui Ocean Swim (2.8K open water swim)
May 2 - Mother's Day Triathlon (300m swim, 8K ride, 3K run, aiming for top 20 finish)

To find out:
-local surf carnival dates for Surf Ironman/single surf ski race, probably late December into January/February

Also: The surf is back!
.....

Why can't winter be this fun?

After two years in New Zealand, I have to stop and reflect on the whole experience.

Originally, this was an 8-month stopover on the way to Australia. I have yet to hit the Outback but am not terribly fussed at this point.

I'm not sure why New Zealand has gotten inside me so much. I wish I knew. When I first came down, I was enchanted by the smell, by just being somewhere different. The sense of freedom, of independence was overwhelming. Every encounter was new. I didn't know that every fourth tourist is from Germany, meat pies were the greatest thing ever, and I had total confidence that the All Blacks would win every game I got to see while in New Zealand, including the ones watched on television. Really, my presence would make it happen.

And now? Well, my German is still terrible, I no longer eat meat, and the All Blacks have lost the Tri-Nations for the first time in God-knows-how-many years. And I don't want to leave. I still feel that sense of freedom. And while this country is far from perfect (see point above about All Blacks), there are a lot of things that I love about it here. Like the volunteering on the beach, or the short commercial breaks on TV, or the fact that it is illegal to market junk food to kids, or the free medical care in the case of an accident, or the availability of organic food, or the fact that many of the people who work at the pool come from somewhere else in the world but want to make their (our) homes here. (For the record, I do totally miss some things about the USA, like my family and friends (duh), NPR, s'mores, fast wireless internet, and a favorable exchange rate.)

I have several friends who have lived in New Zealand, a couple of whom read this blog, and all of them speak wistfully of coming back. I wonder if this is what it is a part of living overseas; a feeling that your home and your family are in two separate places. If I were to return to the States today, I know that I would miss everything that I have here in New Zealand. I honestly can't think of anywhere in the States where I can do what I do here and get by. But in some of my more honest moments, I wonder how much of this is really about New Zealand and how much is really about being away. Just being so far from things and people that mean your past, and, at least in my case, the necessary doubt about the future, these circumstances not only allow you to enjoy the present, it actively forces you to do so.

One of the things I think is so easy to miss about living overseas is the ability to write things off. Or, rather, the patience people have with you. If I make a gaffe, I feel that often the people around me give me a break. “She's not really one of us, she didn't mean to.” With that, so many of the “shoulds” and “ought tos” of daily life just fall away. You can do things because you truly want to. It is liberating. And totally terrifying, because you never stop being a representative of whatever country you came from in the first place. But maybe that's what I like most about being here, that little bit of slack.

There are so many things I still haven't talked about on this blog; like how the native bush is evergreen while the Northern transplants shed their leaves in winter, or the difficulties of communicating at the drugstore or hardware store (hand signals and semaphore are often used.), or how the other day someone said to me, “I was with the whanau at the bach when I just decided to jump in the water with me togs and jandals on, and bugger was the water cold!” and I knew exactly what she meant. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is, I've figured out the code. Those little things that you just know when you've lived somewhere long enough. Not all of the code, but enough to realize that I've learnt some, like which groceries stores are cheapest, and what forms you can and cannot fill out at the Post Shop, and even a tiny bit of the slang. And I like it. I likes it a lot.

Which, God and the NZ Government willing, will be fodder for upcoming posts.  Till then, I give you all my love from this little corner of Down Under.

Arohanui,
Skiffer

I'm sick.  Ew.
( The whining )

And I promise my thoughts on living here for two years are coming.  I really do promise.  But right now, I'm going to sleep, because I haven't done that in, oh, an hour? and obviously that is far too long, according to whatever is controlling my body clock right now.

1. Spring is totally here.  And wonderful.

2. I'm applying for a job in the office of the pool.  Applications open next week.  We'll see what happens.

3. Currently working 11 days in a row.  Am muy tired, but I did volunteer.

4. A few days ago was my two year anniversary in New Zealand.  Holy crap!  A more meaningful post on that subject coming soon.

Spotted in town:

Gisborne Secretarial Services.

This office is often unattended.  If door is locked, please call 867-XXXX.


FOR REAL, YO. (Except for the X's)