Dunncannon So Far..

My roommate is a tall, long-legged Hungarian girl who speaks English with a beautiful accent. Her long legs make this short legged Asian girl jealous. She is also very active, in many sense of the word. She doesn’t idle around writing cheesy travel journals, neither does she sits still just because she can. Thanks to her, I am a proud owner of a bike – I’ve been here for the total of three hours. Thanks to her, I did all of my grocery shopping too. After we got back home, while I was completely pooped out, she went out again for a hike. She came back completely invigorated. I will never understand that. She is also active in the sense that she doesn’t wait for things to happen. She goes out and initiates contact, and actively acquires whatever it is she needs. She’s unafraid to ask for help. She’s confident in the way she talks and moves, and it makes me wonder how she could be like that in an utterly unfamiliar place. Maybe it’s a European thing, I don’t know but I like that about her.

After I got the job, the winery I will be working for sent me an email with all the important information. It had a suggestion as to where we should stay, and I followed that suggestion. I decided to stay at the hostel that they recommended. So let me talk about the hostel.

The lady at the reception was extremely nice. The check in was a total breeze; I paid my dues and she gave me a key. She informed me about the layout of the place. I nodded at all the right places while all of the information was leaving my brain as soon as they entered. She gave me three tokens and told me that they were for the showers. According to her, one token provides five minutes of hot water. It was an interesting concept and I had no idea why they would deprive their guests of long hot showers but I still nodded. After that, with a smile and a nod, I was off to see my room.

I already talked about my roommate so let’s skip that part. Let me explain about my room. There are two beds, a tiny cupboard, a tiny TV, heater and zip, nothing else. It’s a tiny room and there really isn’t much room for anything else but no drawers or cabinets is a little weird. So naturally, my clothes are splayed around in my closet with no organization what so ever. I don’t really remember what I packed so it’s been a game of hide and seek in the mornings, whenever I try to dress myself.

Showers are outside of the room, just like a dormitory. I have to go to a different building within the grounds to go to use the toilet or to take a shower. It kind of reminds me of our beloved Sereno, maybe except for the fact that I need to limit myself in how much hot water I use. Apparently, the hostel’s showers are run by solar energy. In order to not waste too much hot water, everyone is required to grab some tokens from the reception (they are free by the way) and put in however many tokens one might need. One token gives you about five minutes of hot water (yes they are true to their words I can testify) so if you want to take a fifteen minute shower, then you put in 3 tokens. It’s an interesting concept, I’ve said this before. I’ve learned that when you are on a time limit, and when the punishment is ice cold water pouring down on you all of a sudden, it is possible to take less than fifteen minutes shower or even less than five.

The kitchen, so far, has been the most nightmare-ish type thing I’ve witnessed. It’s communal, just as to be expected, and it is divided into which building you are staying in. For example, if my room was green 5, I go to the kitchen that was designated for green rooms from 1-10. They have cupboards all against the walls labeled with colored number cards (again, the whole room number thing). Inside these cupboards are plates, bowls, cups and utensils that are yours during your stay. There are refrigerators that are communal and you must label all of your food items or risk your food getting stolen. It does not smell very good in there; I think it’s the smell of particular spices and other food ingredients someone might be using. It smells like combination of fish and hundred years old tofu, and needless to say, it’s not pleasant. Add the dirty sponge meant for washing dishes to the list and you got the nightmare-ish-I-don’t-want-to-go-in-there-again-kitchen.

To minimize the amount of cooking I do at the kitchen the food items on my pantry is as follows: Tofu, Salad greens, dressing, fruits, carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, hummus and sausage. All I need to do is wash some veggies and grab hummus. If I want more protein I can cut up some tofu or microwave the sausage. I miss real food.

Finally D-day

I got in the car all nervous, feeling butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I seriously thought this day would never come but here I am, in the car heading to the airport. Today was the day I leave for New Zealand.

My mom was nervous about my decision from day one. I was pretty sure that she didn’t understand why I am going all the way to New Zealand for some internship when I already have a full time job, even to this day. I didn’t think she would be very supportive of this endeavor but now that I am thinking back on it, she was the one who hovered over me every step of the way. Even now, she’s worried that I would starve on the plane. Me. Her fat daughter. Her at-least-60lbs-over-weight daughter. I could probably starve for the whole week and still be as healthy as a horse. Nonetheless, she is the prime example of the Korean idiom ‘bite all ten fingers and it will all hurt.’ It means that no matter the different level of affection a parent might have had for their children it will hurt all the same if any of them got hurt. I always thought maybe my mother preferred my younger sisters over me all of these years. After all, I have broken her heart and disappointed her in so many different occasions. Today, however, I see that I am her daughter even so. She stood outside of the TSA window waving her hand, until I couldn’t because it was my turn to take off my shoes and subject myself to a full body scan for the sake of my country. I confess. That sight made the tip of my nose tingle. Just a little bit.

Now, I am very bad at waiting for something. I am a very impatient person. I think whole lot of traveling is composed of waiting; the very activity I hate the most. It’s ironic because I actually enjoy the plane ride itself even if that’s just another form of waiting.

To kill some time, I bought a book. I’ve wanted to read Life of Pi for a while now so that was the book I chose. Then I made sure I had enough battery in every single electronic device I own. Then I made sure I had enough content in all of those electronic devices to entertain me throughout the 12 hour flight I was expecting-fully knowing that I would be watching movies on the plane the whole time anyway. Even after all of that, I still had an hour to kill. I occupied that hour stealing a glance at the cute guy that was sitting maybe four seats away from me. I regret to inform, even that did not make the waiting better.

It was 8:45pm when I sat on my assigned seat. There was a couple with a toddler to my front, a nice old man to my right and two young –ish girls to my left. I mention the couple because I found out about the sky couch through them. So Air New Zealand plane has this cool thing where passengers can turn their seats into a couch. There is an adjustable foot rest attached to each seat. Three seats in a row, it could turn itself into a mini bed! And that was exactly what the couple in front of me did. Between one parent and the toddler they had three seats, and the other parent was sitting in a different section but still not entirely separated from their group. The one parent and the toddler were able to sleep comfortably on the airplane seat-turned-makeshift-bed. I don’t know about the parent but the child seemed extremely satisfied with the arrangement. For myself I watched three movies, just as I expected to do, and then dozed off here and there with Vienna Teng playing in the background. That was a weird kind of experience. I would be slowly dozing out of consciousness but still awake enough to tell myself ‘oh that’s Hope on Fire. I like that song’ and even sing a long a couple sentences.

The flight was a long one but I eventually got to Aukland. Aukland airport was much bigger than I was expecting. Despite leaving San Francisco about fifteen minutes after the supposed departure time, we still arrived to Aukland about half an hour early. I have no idea how that’s even possible but thank goodness because if we didn’t arrive early, I would have missed that connecting flight.

I was slightly nervous about customs because I knew I had few questionable items in my luggage. The big bag of nuts was one. The big bag of turkey jerkey was the other. So I got to the customs area, where they had “bioscanning” devices all set up (it was basically just an x-ray machine). They seemed to be cracking down hard on bringing in potentially harmful germs into New Zealand so I answered all of the questions as truthfully as I can. I told them about the big bag of nuts and the big bag of turkey jerkey. The nuts were perfectly fine but the turkey jerkey had to be left there because it was turkey jerkey. According to the customs people, if it was beef it would’ve been okay. Hmmm. Just my luck.

Then I stepped out into the lobby. I look at the time, and it said that I still had an hour and half to go. As soon as I stepped out onto the lobby, the first thing I saw was a cell phone place so I stopped by there. I even played the part of the wise consumer and did the whole price comparison thing with two different brands. After all, I had all the time in the world right? Well my boarding time was at 7:45AM and by the time I left the cell phone place it was 7:00am exactly. So I stopped by another kiosk to buy an adapter. Well now I know that I bought the wrong frickin’ adapter and wasted $17 NZD. Additionally, to buy this adapter I spent whole fifteen minutes just waiting in line. By the time I got to the domestic transfer baggage drop area, the flight attendant says that it’s too late for me to drop off my bag. She tells me that I need to take it directly to the gate to guarantee the bag getting onto the plane in time. She also tells me that the domestic terminals were actually outside of this part of the airport, and ten minutes away by walking. I freaked out. I look at the time and it is 7:15 AM. So I drag my two suitcases and a backpack out of that lobby, and into the outside world called Aukland New Zealand. Oh my I walked so fast that my calves were burning by the time I got there. I got to the domestic terminal around 7:30, and dropped my bag at their bag drop area. Thankfully, no need for another security check. I got onto the flight safely and soundly, and on we flew to Blenheim.

Everything from there on, it was ridiculously easy. The shuttle bus driver was already waiting for me, holding up a sign with my name written on it. Also, I was clearly the only Asian girl traveling alone in that plane so I bet it was easy for him to find me. In any case, he found me within two minutes of me getting off of the plane, so as soon as I got my bags we were off to the hostel that I was supposed to stay. 

It was strange, looking out the window from the bus. At first glance, it seemed like there were nothing different from home. Then speckled in the midst of all of those home-like views, something foreign suddenly pops up. Driving in the “wrong” direction of the road was definitely one of them, and the fields were actually green - just like how it is supposed to be. The strange accent coming out of these people’s mouths sounded almost like foreign language to me. I had to keep reminding myself that they are actually speaking English. It was weird. I felt so out of place and kind of lost. Then suddenly I see. The green vineyards stretched out miles and miles ahead. That was home. I found a piece of California in the middle of New Zealand; a little piece of home. It was majestic but at the same time comforting. I sat back and relaxed my tight muscles. I even gathered enough courage to strike a conversation with the driver. He turned out to be far too busy to keep a conversation going; quite literally the phone was ringing every minute but I didn’t mind too much. I just kept staring at the vineyard. Really, what could be better than a little bit of comfort?