Week 1

I was able to afford this New Zealand adventure because I had a job upon arrival. As mentioned in my last post, Wayne's family owns a mine and mineral processing plant outside Christchurch. They strip mine clay from a nearby hill and process it at the plant, creating some agricultural products, as well as the binding agent for paper, Bentonite. I required this job because, as I'm starting grad school in August and am about to go deep in debt, this needed to be a money-neutral trip. The catch-22 is that I don't really want to work much, just enough to recover my losses.

I was supposed to start my first Monday, but a broken part closed the mine for a day. Which turned into two days, which turned into three days. I finally had my first day that Thursday, but it quickly turned into a half-day. Wayne and I went to pick up a forklift transmission before the work day in town. We were able to get the transmission, but a broken hydraulic pump lead us on a four hour goose chase around town that ended up back at the place we started. They did 15 minutes of research and realized that only one shop would have the needed piece. That shop gave it to us for free. Oy.

The work at the mine is messy. The clay sticks to absolutely everything, so all employees wear overall covers. The dust forces us to wear respirator masks. Add my hard hat and I look like some sort of post-apocalyptic soldier after the decades of chemical warfare has destroyed Earth. Most of the work involves using heavy machinery like front loaders and forklifts. The processed clay is dumped into the mill's funnel with a frontloader. The mill then processes the powder and is hosed into bags that are then manually placed on pallets, which the forklift takes away to be wrapped. Seems easy enough, but everything breaks down constantly, so the plant is constantly a mess. The mess needs almost constant cleaning. Plus, the early shift starts at 6 or 7 AM, which is way too early for me. Again, I want to work as little as possible, so I'm planning on taking a 30 hour schedule. Fortunately, the CEO, Philip, traveled similarly to me so he is understanding. I think I'll also take my final two weeks in the country off to travel to some places around NZ between rugby trainings. I think I should get a real vacation before I start grad school.

Rugby followed a similar pattern. I was supposed to have my first training Tuesday, but obnoxiously Seattle-like rain rained out the ground. Unlike the USA, clubs actually care about their fields and will cancel a training if a wet field would be too damaged by long-spiked rugby players. They moved the training to an off site indoor training ground, but by the time my ride showed up, I would have only made the last half hour of practice after traffic. Not worth it. I was able to train Thursday. After filling out some paperwork, it was a whirlwind with the Div 2s. Apparently, the rugby vocabulary is different in NZ than the UK and US, which means I spent and hour and a half trying to translate. I had to learn that a cross is a switch, a zero is a drifter, and what the hell "points" and"castles" were (terms that I hope Eastside adopts...). I made some solid mistakes in early drills because I  had no idea what was going on. Fortunately, I did catch a "nice skills" from under the breath of the big coach (both figuratively and literally) during one drill. Ultimately, I was so busy trying to learn plays and patterns of play that I never really had a chance to enjoy myself. Too much going on. I spoke to the backs coach, and he seemed confident that I would play, which was good news for me to hear.

I got a ride home with the Div 1 coach, a former Scotland international. He was funny, saying a few things: 1) it's easy to find a flat with somebody on the team. I should expect to get one in the not-too-distant future. 2) The Div 2 boys are a "social bunch." Interesting. Perhaps, not coincidentally, they are also the youngest team. 3) Christchurch is completely working class. 4) People settle down early in Christchurch. This seems true, as everyone that appears to be my age is married and often has at least one kid dragged behind them.

In the meantime, with work not available, I've had time to explore more of the city. This has brought about several issues. First of all, I have an incredibly difficult time finding my bearings. While New York came naturally, even during Sandy, Christchurch has been nearly impossible. This is largely due to a few simple factors. First, as this is my first time in the southern hemisphere, I'm not used to the sun being in the north. I didn't realize how often I subconsciously use the sun for direction until coming here. I've been completely turned around. Second, since the earthquake destroyed the city centre, there are very few visual cues around town. The Southern Alps aren't really visible to the West, the southern hills are only seen on a clear day, and there are no hills in the city, and there are no tall buildings left. Even my conceptual map of the city is messed up. Like Seattle, Christchurch is ocean, city, mountains. Except Seattle runs that order west to east, while Christchurch is east to west. Receiving directions is very difficult. Lastly, Christchurch is not on a street grid. On multiple occasions, I was close to something and decided to take a short cut on what should be a cross-street. Instead the street would take an 80° turn and I would have no idea where I ended up.

Adding to my frustrations, I still have no phone. Tuesday I made my way down to the Riccardon Mall and purchased a pay-as-you-go SIM card from Vodaphone, only to find out that my iPhone was still locked. Unfortunately, since the account is in my mother's name, she is the one that needs to contact AT&T for me. There was a fellow upstairs at the mall who would unlock the phone, but for $80NZD, which I wasn't willing to spend.

I've been discouraged to find out that Christchurch post-earthquake is mall land. While there used to be a supposedly vibrant urban center, all that's left are the suburbs, which, much like the ole USA, revolve around shopping malls. I've been told that the place to be before the quake was SOL Square, in the Sodo district on the south end of the city centre. There were bars lining this alley where the entire population under 27 used to go on a Saturday night. Reminds me of Pike Street on Capitol Hill. Now the best bar scenes are at malls. Malls! This is not generally my scene.

Surprisingly, though, spending time at the mall was a generally interesting experience. It reaffirmed my awkward relationship with Starbucks — I hate it in the United States, but it proves a lifesaver when I'm traveling internationally. The coffee may be pretty bad, at the barely acceptable level, but at least you know what you're getting into. After a couple weird coffee experiences in Christchurch, I was relieved to drink something familiar. Yes, Starbucks acts as my Seattle embassy in foreign lands. Sadly, the internet wasn't free.