On the Road Again

I never seem to stumble across the right times and places to write thoughtful emails anymore, so I am now resorting to a brief summary of my travels. I hope this will fill some of the void that I have left you all with.

 

After picking and packing kiwifruits for a month to earn some money, my travels led me to the Taranaki Environment Center. I hoped to learn about building self sufficient technologies, such as recycling wastewater and simple food processing. But when I arrived, I found my direction completely changed.

 

July 3               Lifting my head, Mt. Taranaki towered before me. I continued along through town. Even when I could not see the grand volcano, it engulfed me with its majestic presence. Mt. Taranaki: Ruler of the North Island's western cape. The surrounding region is Taranaki, and the people here live by this mountain. This is their mountain. They are governed by this mountain, and come together by this mountain. This: is what I have come to know as community.

 

My time in Taranaki was about community—people setting aside differences to build relationships. Relationships between people, food, and nature. Sharing resources, skills, and knowledge to help each other. Organizing community initiatives: youth conservation groups, carpooling networks, seed saving networks, abuse helplines, growing community gardens and orchards. Ever since then, I have been on a mission: a mission to discover how ordinary people (including convicts, handicapped, teenagers) can come together to live self-sufficiently. This mission led me to Waiheke Island, a Transition Town (www.transitiontowns.org). Here, even the old granny who didn't think could do anything about the future, seems to be involved in becoming more self-sufficient. My discoveries? Well, we might just have to have a cup of coffee when I get home in December.

 

After a week on Waiheke Island, I bade my farewells to New Zealand, and went off to the Land of Oz (Aus). Aussie Aussie Aussie! Hoy Hoy Hoy! This is the infamous chant that brings together every Australian. I stayed three days in Sydney to visit my wonderful friend Susannah (How I met Susannah…that'll be another cup of coffee). Then to Cairns I flew, spotting the mesmerizing wonder of the Great Barrier Reef from above. There, I went Wwoofing on a cattle farm for two weeks.

 

Indeed, talking to cattle for a whole day proved to be a new challenge. But besides extended conversations with cattle, I was captivated by the spiritual manner in which my host worked. Whether we were in the forest, vegetable garden, or the paddock, there was a deep, thoughtful air of respect and finesse in everything he handled and did. The deep breath of air, the rush of smells, and the floating wind elucidated: The World is not Hard Science. It is also governed by a spiritual essence. Otherwise, how do you explain: Why do people sing? And meditate?  

 

My travels next led me to Yarabah, an Aboriginal community where I stayed for a week (Sorry, details next time). Since then I have made my merry way to the Red Center of Australia, Alice Springs.

So that's two months in a nutshell.

Until next time from the Outback.

Truly, Sincerely, now Down Under

MinWah

 

PS for those who don't know about my pictures and blog: miniwahwah.shutterfly.com  and   miniwahwah.blogspot.com

A Big Sappy Thank You

With my nine and a half month journey in New Zealand at its end, I cannot leave without dedicating a post to all those who have helped me along the way. Though, ‘helped’ is an understatement. Like an oasis in the desert, these people provided a head over my roof—I mean, a roof over my head, gave me lifts, fed me well, and donated things that I needed to continue my travels. All of that came simply from the kindness of their hearts, and often when I needed it the most…despite my lousy hair, clothes worn way-too-many times, really really wet and muddy boots, short notice, etc…

When I wasn’t working for money, or wandering through the wilderness (‘tramping in the bush’ as kiwis say), I was Wwoofing. I can hardly express my gratitude for the absolute awesomeness of the Wwoof program. If you can believe me, my Wwoof book became my bible. I left it behind once for a week, during which I was very very sad, and since have never let it leave my side. All my Wwoof hosts and the Wwoof NZ Festival gifted me with memorable experiences and improved knowledge of food production, engineering, and life. There’s no doubt that I will be Wwoofing for years to come, wherever I may be.

And of course, thanks to everyone I met along the way. It’s hard to express the impact that everyone had on me. Even those I only met for a few minutes had an effect on my thoughts, like someone making small adjustments to a sculpture, carving out who I am. When I felt lost, they kept me company, gave me faith, and reassured me that I would find my way. There’s nothing like that feeling when someone appears to help you out. There are great great people in this world.

oh the irony

everywhere i go, i can't help but laugh at the irony that life brings...

i lost my USB stick. i left it at the apple store yesterday, because i simply can't stop losing things. and yet, while i was walking away from the apple store this morning all distraught, this guy on the street was handing out pamphlets for free USB sticks. Dicks Smith Electronics had a grand opening store, and were giving away free USB sticks to the first 1000 ppl who wanted them. yeah, it's a bit sad that i lost all the random crap on my beloved memory stick, but i must admit getting a new one for free was pretty awesome. What are the odds???

the other thing is that the principles surrounding working on organic farms is completely opposite to nuclear engineering. organic farming is all about small scale, local, everything produced is returned to the natural cycle. with nuclear energy, it's always gotta be BIG...the bigger the more efficient. somehow i think there is a middle ground between the two. in our world now, we won't be able to be all out relocalization, or all out large scale, because being too local means you miss the bigger picture, and being too large scale means you miss the beauty of invidualism and diversity. maybe i'll find the answer as i continue along my journeys. (i've been telling ppl that i'm a mechanical engineer for all this time on the road...because a lot of ppl get all rattled up just hearing the world nuclear. and once they're rattled up, there's no end to their condemnations (is that a word?)).

one of these days i'll write a real post. i keep saying that, but really, it'll happen.

My last days in New Zealand are passing by...one by one. I don't even quite know what to do with myself. I'll be heading up to Northland soon for my last week, once I figure out my Aussie visa...

Man, traveling is really poop sometimes when you have access to like absolutely nothing. And you only have like 1 1/2 sets of clothes. And you're standing around like an absolute bum, not quite sure what to do...

From the East Side to the West Side

I left Opotiki a week ago, after a month's of work without a day's rest. From kiwi picking to working at a packhouse grading, sorting and packing, I have seen everything there is regarding those fuzzy little fruits. It was time to move on.

 

My journey around the East Cape took four days, across remote countryside between coastal waves, crop fields and cattle. The farmland here has passed through Maori families for hundreds of years. Every few kilometers, you would see a red wooden structure, ornately carved with Maori designs. These were places of worship, remembrance, or spiritual significance.

 

On the third day, I could not go on, as the rain was too heavy. But I happened upon a Swiss girl, who kept me company for the day. She was going to Te Urewera National Park the next day, and I decided to follow her there. After a hectic month working, I missed the wilderness and peacefulness of nature. So I wandered around Lake Waikaremoana, experiencing this spiritual place for the Maori. Two days later, I found my way to Napier, a bright coastal city, with architecture and atmosphere that brought you back to the 1920s.

 

From the East Side to the West Side, here you find me now in small town Inglewood, beneath a towering volcano on the West Coast. It is certainly winter now. The weather has turned to frequent cold, wet, and windy days. Rain pours down in waterfalls. And disappointment falls.

 

I had planned since October to come here, the Taranaki Environment Center, to work on some sustainability projects. But for the last week, my contact person seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth. Without anywhere else to go, I showed up at the Taranaki Environment Center steps, with my large backpack and without a place to stay. To my relief, the couple running the place gave me a roof over my head for the next few days. It's another one of those nonstop rainy days, and who knows where the traveling bee will take me tomorrow…

an update?? of sorts

oh dear, it must certainly have seemed that i disappeared from the face of this earth. where shall i begin...how bout february?

february: i left crazy new age lady's place in takaka as i didn't like her very much, and her hospitality was awful. i mean, who puts a sign on the toilet that says 'don't flush for wees, piss in the garden if you can'? if you are afraid of running out of water, at least tell us nicely. We’re not even working for money.

next i went to the King's home also in takaka hoping for a better Wwoof experience. their property was right on the beach, with a few sheep, goats, and funny chickens that roamed around the bushes. a young german couple, Jochen and Ute, lived there as well. they first came as Wwoofers a few years ago, and now they are staying on the forever! they were Chemistry PhDs in academia back in Germany, and now Jochen is simply the local piano/music teacher, and Ute works at the organic shop. what a change of lifestyle. I worked for the Kings everyday, mostly in the garden, but also helped with building projects on the property, such as a wooden shed and an adobe outdoor shower. As the Kings were very musical people, I joined them every week at their World Music Choir, learning songs from Africa, Europe, and Asia.

march: went back to Nelson to hit the Flat Out Ultimate frisbee beach tournament. not terribly surprised to find tons of Americans there. played the first day in POURING cold rain, and covered in sand from head to toe. our team (go red cannons!) placed 4th overall. then i was finally ready to start my journey of discovering New Zealand's wilderness. For the next month and a half, it was just me, my tent, and the vast New Zealand landscape.

from the top...Kahurangi National Park - sweeping river valleys and lush green range; Abel Tasman National Park - sandy beaches, pirate coves

down the west coast...Paparoa National Park - crashing waves, magnificent coastline, towering limestone cliffs, palm forests, dense jungles

up into the Southern Alps...Arthurs Pass National Park - alpine mountains extending beyond the horizon topped with gray shale

further down the west coast...glacier country and Mt. Aspiring National Park - farmland stretched far and wide with snow capped mountain backdrops, bright turqoise waters flowing out in waterfalls, rivers, and lakes

the South...Fiordland National Park - winding through valleys so deep and surreal, a fantasy land where you are surrounded by castles, fortresses, sparkling fountains, and magical forests

Land of the Rising Sun

After a long hiatus, a short passage.

 

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A glimpse of light peeked out from the clouded horizon. The coastline flooded with light. The ocean, the green blades of grass, and the small hills awoke. This was the first light of Sunday June 15.

 

I sat in the middle of the deserted farmland, looking past the soft waves, and out into the rising sun. I fell deep into thought, of all that destiny has brought to me, and all that destiny has in store for me to come. There was a longing for the past and worries about the uncertain future. I left Opotiki behind, as well as all the Malaysians that had become my brothers and sisters in the past month. We are settling down in our lives, growing older and it is almost certain we will never enjoy each other's company in the same way again.

 

But looking out at the ocean panorama again, I felt better. I was at the East Cape, the first place in the world to see sunrise. There was the big wide world—the world that keeps on turning, the world that brings me to new people and adventures. And there was the bright rising sun that overwhelmed the dark cloud patches that covered it. And there was the sky decorated in a palette of clouds. There I was surrounded by broad green countryside. I let the last month run through my head one last time—lost things, broken things, anger, the sky is falling down, sadness, laughter, leaning on shoulders, sharing difficulties, mouthfuls of kiwifruit, and knowing smiles. The sun was up now. I stood up and turned to put my tent away.