moving onwards

Nothing very exciting has happened since I left Cape Jackson at the
beginning of January. The wwoof hosts at my last few places were nice,
but there was always something missing.

When I first arrived in Takaka, I wwoofed with a woman named Alex. I
worked in the cafe that she owns, washing dishes. Glamorous, I know.
(wwoofing doesn't necessarily mean working on an organic farm). On my
first day, I noticed the setup was like wilg--I had to wash the dishes
before sticking them in the sanitizer. But how different it is!! The
stick everything in the sanitizer, including pots, pans, baking trays,
tupperware, plastic! I kept handwashing all these things, while Yvonne
(Alex's daughter) kept giving me dirty looks and reminding me I have
to run them all through the sanitizer. I wanted to say, 'Well, miss,
do you know that the heat melts the plastic, and releases bad
chemicals? Not to mention the tops and tupperware are all warped. And
the baking trays and cast iron pans have non-stick layers that are
ruined in the sanitizer!' But of course, I didn't say all that. I
nodded my head quietly and stuck everything in the sanitizer. Although
secretly, I continued to handwash lots of things.

I committed to work with her a week, so I did that. In the meantime, I
found another Wwoofing place also in Golden Bay. Takaka and Golden Bay
is where new age and the 70s meet--surrounded by hippies and the
alternative lifestyle. Most of the shops sell organic and natural
products; they smell of incense and decorated with pictures of Buddha
and other art promoting natural healing. There are also signs such as
'Make tea, not war'...

I was attracted to Golden Bay because of its close knit community.
Most people living here are farmers (organic), and everyone knows
each other. They are generally nice, relaxed people, who are actively
involved in community groups and activities that promote a healthy
lifestyle. The region sits between two national parks. Hence, the
landscape is painted by mountains, rivers and ocean, as well as cows,
sheep, horses, and old rusty machinery.

More adventures in Golden Bay to come...

The tourist and the Mexican fisherman

As many of you are starting your new semesters, I wanted to share this story with you. Ron and Gerry shared this story with me and I've been thinking a lot about it since. Good luck with the new term!

 

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An American tourist was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked.

Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The tourist complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.

The Mexican replied, "Only a little while."

The tourist then asked, "Why didn't you stay out longer and catch more fish?"

The Mexican said, "With this I have more than enough to support my family's needs."

The tourist then asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?"

The Mexican fisherman said, "I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos, I have a full and busy life."

The tourist said, " I can help you. You should spend more time fishing; and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat: With the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats. Eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would sell directly to the processor; eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing and distribution. You could leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then Los Angeles and eventually New York where you could run your ever-expanding enterprise."

The Mexican fisherman asked, "But, how long will this all take?"

The tourist replied, "15 to 20 years."

"But what then?" asked the Mexican.

The tourist laughed and said, "That's the best part. When the time is right you would sell your company stock to the public and become very rich, you would make millions."

"Millions?...Then what?"

The American said, "Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos."