Kiwi Fun In The Sun: February 2012

My, there have been some incredible changes that have occurred in the last month. It has certainly been a busy one with quite a few ups and downs, twists and turns, but what else would you expect?

From the time I had written my last blog until today, I have been in and out of four jobs, two hospitals, and three cities. Let me begin with the first job: Working at the lodge for accommodation was great for getting into the swing of things here in New Zealand, but I needed to start making some money for Thailand, Cambodia and Laos, tickets booked for March 13^thby the way. So, when a local friend had told me about working with him driving Windrowers (A Windrower is an extremely sophisticated, hundred thousand dollar machine that is used to cut crops), I jumped on the opportunity due to the fact that I would be making quite decent money, but more so because I have never had any farm experience whatsoever and thought it would be great to drive this giant tractor of a machine and do something new and foreign to me.

I was excited and eager to learn this new skill. I thought, “How hard could it possibly be to drive a tractor up and down a field cutting crops? I mean, I went through four years of college learning about business and communication, I’ve trekked eleven days throughout the Himalayan Mountains to Mount Everest, and I’ve even survived India for crying out loud. Farming should be a breeze right? Wrong. Very wrong. I might not have ever been so wrong in my life. Farming is not easy. Driving tractors…not easy, especially during peak season with deadlines and combines right on your tail, picking up everything you are cutting and cramming it into a giant, seven foot tall ball of produce. I don’t think I have ever been so stressed out in my life. I worked for two weeks, pulling fourteen hour days, trying to master the skill of driving the Windrower, but when it came down to it, I wasn’t cutting it (pun intended). The farmers were unhappy because the crops weren’t cut the way someone with years of experience would, my boss was unhappy with his outrageous, unmet expectations, but most of all, I wasn’t happy, and that is one thing that I ensure through and through with my everyday life. If I don’t like what I’m doing or I’m unhappy with my current situation, I go straight to the source and change it. Without happiness, what’s the point? Don’t mistake this calamity for me having a lack of will, determination or drive, because my dad has taught me much better than that; it just wasn’t meant to be for me.

I’m pretty sure my boss was a bit relieved when I told him I wouldn’t be able to continue working for him. It was the right decision, besides I had new issues to deal with. Since my travels throughout India, I have been left with a few scars, if you will. I won’t indulge you with all of the details of my infirmities, but I will tell you about the bug bite that went completely wrong. Living in New Zealand for a couple months now, my sicknesses from India, mentioned in previous blogs, carried on less and less each day, however this one bug bite continued to itch. It was a pest, a burden, a small nuisance that just wouldn’t buzz off. Itch creams didn’t stand a chance against it; soaking it in hot water for hours made it laugh, poking and prodding it only made matters worse, until one day I woke up with a hole in my arm. The hole was small…at first, but then it seemed to get angry and start to puff up like it was trying to prove something in my attempts to vanquish it. Soon enough it looked as though I was wearing a small boxing glove. I could no longer see any of the veins below my elbow; then I could no longer tell where my hand began and my wrist ended; then hole began to grow. My friends and family became quite worried at the mere glances they would catch of it and ask if I’ve seen a doctor. Being that I don’t like hospitals, I continued to put ointment on it, only to annoy it even more. I finally gave in and went to the Methven Medical Center to get some “professional advice.” After many, “Ummms” and “welllllls” I was given a small novel of doctor’s notes and prescriptions to fix myself: An incompetent pain killer to take away the pounding throb that thumped through my right arm, a type of sleeping pill to get me through the nights when I couldn’t take the pulsating beat of this rhythmic wound, a slew of antibiotics that could make a horse weak in the knees, and of course more topical creams that would only get rejected back out of the increasingly large hole that incessantly oozed in defiance like the yolk from a cracked egg.

It was recommended that I see a second doctor in Ashburton, a larger town about thirty minutes away, to get a second opinion. So, I figured since I was already getting lab work done there for another ailment I’m going through, that I might as well see what the other doctor there had to say about my deformed wrist. It seems that at first glance, everyone has the same perturbed look in their eye that you just know isn’t good. This doctor wasn’t any different. He told me it looked pretty bad. Great, just what I wanted to hear, however after spending ten minutes reading through my prescriptions from my other doctor, he said they should suffice.

I live in a small town, which is great for me never knowing what “small town feel” is like, and when the horrified cashier at the market asks, “Bobby, what did you do to your arm?” it was fun to say, “Oh, it’s just a bug bite.” It was a popular topic among my fellow neighbors, acquaintances, friends and co-workers. So much so that IT grew a name. Paul seemed appropriate; named after the alien in the new movie, Paul. Paul fought hard to continue his residence on my arm and didn’t go down without a fight, but as the slew of medications slowly wore him down, he began to deflate and, “Weep” as the post lady put it, until he was merely just a scab.

I’m not going to lie, this was probably one of the more serious injuries I’ve had traveling, and I probably didn’t take the most appropriate measures in prevention or treatment, but not to fret, for as I am writing this now, I no longer have a hole in my arm; just the purplish, pink scar that reminds me that bug bites should be taken more seriously now. Especially ones from India.

Finally able to get my mind off of Paul and onto my next job, I was able to find work through a friend at an upscale golf resort. Terrace Downs Resort needed a “kitchen hand” to prep food; however I have now turned into the “resort hand” as I do everything from putting away golf carts, to dropping off guest’s luggage, to washing dishes, to doing inventory, oh, and of course working in the kitchen. I really don’t mind it actually. All of the different tasks keep it interesting and have allowed me to meet quite a few interesting people from all departments. One of the great perks to the job is playing golf for free on one of New Zealand’s premier golf courses that lies on the Rakaia Gorge. My previous blog was about the Rakaia Gorge and now I am playing golf on its edge! Being able to eat some of the five star fine dining the restaurant provides is quite the treat as well. I have been able to try all sorts of new meats they serve such as Ostrich, Hare, Mountain Ram, and of course Venison.

I am truly content working this new job. Its sole purpose is to pay for plane tickets and travel throughout Thailand, Cambodia and Laos, but I have met some great friends that have shown me some of their favorite places around New Zealand. Last week we went up to Hanmer Springs which is an area of natural hot pools. What an amazing experience it was to bask in the naturally heated pools, enjoying every bit of heat coming directly out of the earth. Even though there was a wisp of surfer in the air, the pools were so relaxing and calming, that I hardly seemed to notice it. My friends and I spoke very little while we were in the pools, however we all seemed to know exactly what each other was feeling through the tranquil moans and groans of relaxation that we would communicate through the hazy steam that lingered on top of the water where our peaceful faces lie smiling in contentment. I didn’t want it to end, but as the pool attendant stirred us from our comatose state to tell us that the pools were closing, we all reluctantly removed our pruned bodies from the warm water and headed back to the hotel.

Now, you might be wondering what that fourth job is and well, in my ambitious efforts to make my South East Asia trip as amazing as possible, I decided that since I do not start work at Terrace Downs until 3pm, that I might as well do something with my mornings, so I decided to try my hand at being a barista at a local café. It’s pleasant work opening up shop and making various coffee drinks, but I would have to say that the regulars are my favorite part. Like I mentioned before, it’s a small town, so the local coffee shop is sort of the place to be in the mornings if you want to hear the latest gossip or see half of the town’s population come through for their morning drink. So many different personalities and people young and old come through, some ready to start their day, some not so ready, but either way it makes for an entertaining morning, and allows me to meet some people I wouldn’t ordinarily meet. In case you’re wondering, the latest gossip is about some young buck buying old man McAllister’s land and converting it into a dairy farm.

On even more exciting news, while working at Terrace Downs, my quirky head chef mentioned that he used to have a pet hedgehog. What!? So after talking to him about it, he explained how they are similar to having Guinea Pigs or Hamsters and that they can be domesticated quite easily. He also said that once they get used to you they will follow you around and be just like a regular pet. Shocked in my own disbelief, I was determined to find out if this was true and even more determined to have a pet hedgehog of my own. What a perfect New Zealand pet! So one late night after work I was driving home and saw a little spiky pinecone looking object trying to escape the beaming lights of the car. Pulling over, I knew at once that he was the one. He was small enough and young enough to domesticate and make my own pet hedgehog. Carefully trying not to get impaled by his spikes, I scooped him into a cardboard box. As he looked up at me with his tiny little black eyes and his little pointy snout I knew he was about to be an adventure of a pet. Upon arriving at home, I was relieved and glad to see that Dustin, my flat mate shared my enthusiasm for this less than ordinary pet. But what were we to name him? Sonic? No, we couldn’t choose such a cliché name for our hedgehog. After a bit of deliberation we knew that Herbert the hedgehog was the name for him. He really has been a great pet and now that we’ve gotten know one another a bit better, we’re now comfortable using nick names like Herb and Herbie. Also names such as the Herbinator, Herbasaurus Rex and the Herbitron 5000. Herbie loves wet cat food, but we just can’t help but feed him table scraps as well; he’s just too cute when he begs. For dessert he eats moths, which is convenient with the amount of moths that find their way into the house. Now I know what you are thinking, “What are you going to do with Herbster when you leave?” It has already been arranged to donate little Herbie to Mrs. Nichols 3^rd grade classroom at Windwhistle Elementary to be their official adored class pet. He may not be your typical pet, but he honestly is great to have around.

Planning ahead, I have already taken off work to celebrate yet another year of my life. My flat mate Dustin, who drives the Windrowers, is also celebrating his birthday, so we decided to go big and head down South to Queenstown to check out what this much talked about town is all about. It is said to be the adventure capital of the world with everything from skydiving, to bungee jumping, to rock climbing, white water rafting and much much more.

It is incredible to think that I’ve been living in New Zealand for over three months now. Time sure has flown by, and I’m sure that before I know it, I’ll be packing my bags for yet another adventure in Thailand. In the mean time however, I have much more to explore here in New Zealand while I can. This place truly is majestic.