Baywood - Getting Rooted in New Zealand

Getting Rooted in NewZealand

JAMIE BAYWOOD

Copyright 2013 Jamie Baywood

SmashwordsEdition

All rights reserved.

ISBN-10: 1482601907

ISBN-13: 978-1482601909

DEDICATION

For my grandma.

To my niece and nephews: I hope that youeach have your own adventures.

And for G, for letting me be yourcopilot.

Authors Note

To write this book, I relied upon mypersonal journals, e-mails, and memories. I have changed some ofthe names of individuals and organizationsbut not allto preserveprivacy. I write my experiences from a purely personal standpoint.From what Ive gathered from other travelers, my experiences areunusual when compared to those of others who have worked abroad inNew Zealand. I would highly recommend everyone goes to New Zealandto experience their own adventure.

In addition, I practice a form of Buddhismthat involves chanting Nam Myoho Renge Kyo. I mention thisthroughout the book because it is inextricable from my life; it isa part of my story. Im grateful that my Buddhist practice providesme with a built-in community of absolutely amazing people whereverI go.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Cyan Corwine, thank you for laughing andcrying with me and for our pinky promise. Id like to thank Liamand Olivia for kindly proofreading my book. Special thanks toThomas Sainsbury and Roberto Nascimento for laughing at me and withme. Jim and Vicky, thank you for being the best neighbors aBuddhist girl could have. Natalie, thank you for taking me underyour wing. Thank you to Katie, Andrew Mockler, ColinMathura-Jeffree, Steve Wrigley, Phill, Anna, Shaunna, Lynda, Joan,Kana, Liam, Bjorn, Lulu, Marie, and the lovely people I met in NewZealand and Samoa for all being in my life. Thank you to thebeautiful country of New Zealand, which allowed me to call it homefor a bit.

Id also like to express immense gratitudefor having the worst bosses in both California and New Zealand. Youtaught me how to value myself and believe in my talents when no oneelse did. Id also like to thank the character I refer to asGretchen in the book: I hope that if you read this youre able tolaugh with me and that youre healthy and well. Thank you to all ofmy teachers, who have come in the most fascinating forms.

Lastly, thank you to my parents andstepparents for trusting in my leap of faith.

TUESDAY, JULY6, 2010

I landed in the dark, withone suitcase, a backpack, and a pillow. I have what I need andnothing more. The work-abroad company I got a holiday working visathrough instructed me to get on a bus, which took me to Ace Hostelin the Auckland city center. Id never been out of the country forlonger than ten days before, and this was my first time travelingalone.

It was still dark when Igot to the hostel. Jet-lagged, I fell asleep quickly and didntwake up until the next day. There is a young French-Canadian girlwho just arrived and is jet-lagged too. She slept in the bunk aboveme. In the middle of my long sleep, a very tall person with shaggyhair came into the room and slept in the bunk across from mine. Ithought, That is one ugly girl. In the morning, I realized it wasa guy. I didnt know the hostel rooms were unisex. Without mycontact lenses in, I squinted at him from my sleeping bag, Are youa guy?

In the morning, I openedthe curtains to my hostel room. The window faced a brick wall. Ialmost burst into tears.

At the airport in SanFrancisco, my suitcase was nearly twice the weight limit. Theairline gave me a giant plastic bag that I frantically filled withheavy things, like my winter boots and the Lonely Planet NewZealand tour book, then I handed it to my worried mom telling her,I guess Ill figure it out when I get there.

From my window in ahostel, I have a view of a brick wall. I have no plans, noexpectations. I just needed to go.

I managed to skim a tourbook before leaving. The book said, New Zealand is one of thesafest countries in the world. New Zealands population has ahundred thousand fewer men than women. It also advised to wearsunscreen and not drink pond water or walk in dark alleys late atnight.

Last October, I decided toboycott dating after having my heart broken so badly that I feltlike a raw skinned animal. New Zealand seemed like the perfectplace to avoid the opposite sex and have some much needed alonetime. Id been dating since I was thirteen years old. Attwenty-six, Ive spent half my life dating and havent had a minuteto myself.

Im going cold turkey with guys. No dating for one year.

Im officially the oldestperson in the hostel. Theres a nice English girl named Marie whosnow sharing my hostel room. We went to the grocery store together.The chipsor crisps, as Marie calls themcome in weird flavors Ivenever seen before, like lamb and mint. The money in New Zealand israinbow colored and has pictures of ferns, penguins and otherbirds, mountaineers, and the queen of England. The dollar is agolden coin with the kiwi bird on it. My favorite coin is theten-cent piece with a Maori carving. The ten-cent coin is also thesmallest. Everything is just rounded up or down at theregisters.

Marie and I made pasta inthe hostel kitchen together tonight. The pots and pans looked dirtyand rusted. About thirty people were all cooking different meals atthe same time. Everyone looks to be in their late teens or earlytwenties and trying to figure out how to cook. The smell of foodcombined with smoke from food burning in filthy pots and pans mademe gag.

As Marie and I ate ourpasta, a nineteen-year-old English boy sat next to us. He looked atme strangely and asked how old I was. When I responded twenty-six,his eyes almost popped out of his head, and he said, Wow! Yourethe oldest person here!

I took a bus to theAuckland Domain with a German girl I met at the hostel. At the busstops are electronic boards that show when the next bus willarrive. Our bus was running two minutes late. The German girl said,I dont understand, where is the bus?

Its late.

How? Where is it? I dontunderstand how that is possible.

What difference does itmake?

Two minutes, the Germangirl said very seriously.

On the bus I met a little,old, American lady traveling around New Zealand and couch surfing.I hope Im a couch-surfing granny when I get old.

I walked around theAuckland Domain with the German girl. She told me, Its strange tosee people walking or sitting on the grass. In Germany, nature isjust for looking at.

The sexual-energy volumeis on mute in Auckland. Walking down Queen Street, the busieststreet in the biggest city in the country, all the guys are wearingscarves and dont make eye contact. I feel invisible for the firsttime since I grew boobs. No one looks at me. Its like Im inanother dimension.
I grew accustomed to getting harassed everywhere I went inCalifornia: school, work, walking down the street, or going for arun at Spring Lake in Santa Rosa. It didnt matter what I did orhow I dressed, guys in California were like dogs in heat. Once aguy asking me out followed me for blocks. I didnt know what to do,so I pretended I didnt speak English and told him, No hablaIngles, over and over. After a few blocks, he said, Ill learnSpanish! He eventually stopped following me.
In Auckland, even the construction workers dont whistle. I stoppedat a construction site and stared at a group of beefy-lookingworkers with tattoos covering their arms and wearing hard hats andorange vests. I gawked at them

in the same way one wouldstare at an animal at the zoo. They just looked down at theirshoes.

Before I flew solo to NewZealand, I spent a month in Samoa with my aunt who works as adoctor on the island. Her house is directly across the street fromthe beach with the best snorkeling on the island. I volunteered atthe art museum on the island and helped save ancient artifacts frombeing destroyed by termites and humidity.