Still no sign of the Hobbits…
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One Ring to bind them
July 3rd, 2011Winter light
July 3rd, 2011
Maori
July 2nd, 2011It helps hugely if I don’t think you’re just out of the Stone Age. Which is where I pretty much place Australia’s indigenous peoples prior to European colonisation. Some are still there. Provide evidence of Iron Age tools and I’ll happily re-consider.
In New Zealand a very different situation. Maori people relatively recent inhabitants. Hundreds of years rather than thousands. Relatively sophisticated culture. Coherent society. Reflected in the Treaty of Waitangi between their leaders and the British Crown. No historical curiosity. Its obligations still being interpreted by the Courts today.
Meeting Maria
July 2nd, 2011
Today’s Kiwese word: sin to meet her. Hundred of these and you’ve got a metre
Maria wore a Hijab. A headscarf. The Koran requiring Muslim women to cover their heads when praying. But what, I enquired, of those who also covered their faces? That, she explained, was merely local custom. The wearing of a Burdah no requirement of her faith. Commonplace in strict societies such as Saudi Arabia it might be, but pilgrims to Mecca were permitted only the Hijab.
It’d been an early start. Up at five. First ferry of the day between New Zealand’s North and South Islands. Sailing from Wellington to Picton. Swift to secure a window seat. Striking up a conversation with Maria on the next table when I’d asked if she’d mind keeping an eye on my belongings whilst I went to find a coffee.
Her eldest child was twelve. I guessed she might be mid-thirties. An uncertain estimate. What was the average age for marriage in her home country Indonesia? I’d no idea. Besides, she was an educated businesswoman, independently minded. Adherence to norms probably not her thing.
I’d explained that whilst I might ask her husband his age, it would be quite improper for me to enquire as to hers. She was, of course, free to tell me. But if she did, I’d be obliged to treat it as confidential. As I would her husband’s. Moral requirement rather than religious obligation.
At fault
July 2nd, 2011
Today’s Kiwese word: ruck secks. Two or more bags usually carried in the Great Outdoors
One doesn’t want to sound alarmist. But New Zealand does sit on along a major fault line. Specifically, the western coast of South Island. Sort out accounts for the mountains there. And it’s where I’m off to next. Bit of exploration. Probably best not to mention my rather dubious track record. Side-stepping natural disasters and civil unrest by a month or two. Sometimes a lot less. In any case, just enough.
I’d been a bit presumptive. Recent devastation of Christchurch by an earthquake a few months ago. Volcanic activity on North Island. Lofty mountain peaks. Sharply defined. A nation thrust up from beneath. But no. Splinter of an ancient landmass. Eventually dividing up into South America, India, Australia and Antarctica.
I’d have been blissfully ignorant but for hosts Ian, Amy and their three children taking me to Te Papa – Our Place – New Zealand’s national museum of errr New Zealand. Maori culture. Social history. Fashions. Household artifacts. And Geology. Plate tectonics. Even an earthquake simulator. Supposedly a seven or so on the Richter Scale. Amy disagreed. More like a four. Experience for you.
And the photograph? One of Te Papa’s supports. Designed to reduce the impact of an earthquake on the building. Slowing down the more violent short, sharp shocks.
Lessons in empathy
July 1st, 2011
Today’s Kiwese word: pedals. Handy for kayaking
I’d stared at the postcard for a while. Pondering. Knew what I wanted to say. But not quite sure how to preface it. Formal address or first name. Curious dilemma perhaps. For I was writing to my old Physics teacher. Part of me still wanting to refer to him as "Mr…". Not just because that had been the school norm. Out of plain, old-fashioned respect as well. For he’d been the best teacher I’d ever had.
He’d strike a clever balance between demanding commitment, and engendering empathy with his students. You felt he wasn’t so much teaching you, as studying alongside. Careful to explain how he’d approached problems. Always receptive to alternatives, as one would be from an equal.
Memories that had come flooding back almost a quarter of a century later. Still crisp and clear. Thanks to some new fangled technology. Skype. A surprise chance to chat online. For I was staying with his son, a school contemporary. Now out in New Zealand. Joining in on the weekly family catch-up.
Karori sunrise
July 1st, 2011
Today’s Kiwese word: summer. Cook at a constant temperature, below boiling point
Tropical island? Actually no. Karori. A suburb of Wellington. New Zealand’s Capital. Tucked away at the bottom end of the North Island. Shows it doesn’t always rain here. Even in winter.
Watch your vowels
July 1st, 2011You’d be forgiven for thinking that Australians and Kiwis sound, well, Australian. But that’s definitely not the case. For the latter have a very distinct, and rather likeable, accent. Actually, it’s more than that. More pronounced. Literally. For they shift vowels. First in a word one to the right. Skipping over ’o’. And sometimes ’u’ as well.
So the ’e’ in "Ken" becomes ’i’. And I become "Kin". Has a rather nice, warm ring to it. And those padded gloves worn by cricketers? In New Zealand, betsmens wear betting gloves when playing crucket. This may be a fairly rough and ready rule. But it does seem to work for the most part. As these examples suggest:
Crosby, Stulls end Nesh – Sixties pop group
Ear – mostly oxygen and nitrogen
Ella buy – Proof of your whereabouts
Fibbery – Pretty chilly month of the year
Fuggers – Something accountants work with
Ed. That’s surely enough for now…
[With especial thanks to Ian for sharing his insights into the local lingo]
Coffee Capital
June 30th, 2011
Today’s Kiwese word or phrase: "Weir Eagles Deer". Awesome war film
I offered them my table. There were plenty more. No one else in the small waterfront cafe. Despite the intoxicating aromas. Freshly ground coffee. Hot muffins. They were an elderly couple. They’d not asked to sit where I’d chosen. But I just knew they wanted to. It mattered to them. It was their table. Couldn’t begrudge them that. I’d be old one day.
Amy, one of my hosts in Wellington, had been quite firm on this point. Cafe culture was firmly part of the Capital’s landscape. And its coffee the finest in country. Couldn’t quite remember if I’d mentioned beverages had been something of a theme running through the blog. It probably didn’t matter. I’d already demonstrated a perchance for long blacks.
So I’d found myself in Kaffee Eis. Explaining to the staff it’d come highly recommended. By a local. Not disappointed. Either by the coffee. Or the music playing in the background. Dire Straits. Brothers-in-Arms album. Mid-eighties I thought. I was really beginning to like New Zealand.
Ketching fush
June 30th, 2011
Today’s Kiwese word: nit. Used to ketch fush
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