Dear Family and Friends,

This is probably our last e-report from NZ (statistics means never having to say you're certain).  We've had fun writing these reports and appreciate the feedback and news you've sent.  Incidentally, since moving out of the townhouse, I've been sending these reports from my U Auckland e-address.  It's more convenient to us if you mail us at our home address, rgeaste@comcast.net, particularly after this week.

Thanks

NZ Report 26: Loose Ends.

We’ve told you about our various excursions and adventures. Now, a quick summary of routine stuff.

1. TV. At our townhouse we could only get three over-the-air channels. The selection was limited, relative to the cable environment we’re used to, and we didn’t develop an interest in the various NZ, Aussie, or Brit series that run on these channels. Our daily TV highpoint was Cheers re-runs, the early (Dianne) years, at 4:55. Then it was News and Home Improvement, Friends, and pot-luck until the Late News (which didn’t change much since the early News because most of the news-making world is asleep during that interval). In Devonport we have a fourth channel, so we now get M*A*S*H, Wonder Years, Everybody Loves Raymond, and David Letterman (the latter of which is the only one of any of these shows with current episodes). Life is good. Some of the local fare is pretty raunchy. This is a family newsletter, so I won’t provide clinical details. Our limited TV interest means that books and movies have been a major part of our Auckland evening activities.

Speaking of the News, there was a story this week that government was going to impose a flatulence tax on animals: 9c/cow, 7c/sheep. (The farmer pays; not the animals.) Money is to fund research on how to reduce greenhouse gas emissions from farm animals. NZ signed up to the Kyoto Treaty which mandates reductions in gases thought to contribute to global warming, hence the need for this research. (With a parliamentary system of government, anything the party in charge wants pretty well gets enacted. However, there are exceptions, conscience bills, in which members are free to vote their consciences. A current conscience bill under debate has to do with regulation/legalization of prostitution. Main-line church leaders came out against it because, according to the paper, some people might go into the brothel business in order to make a profit!?) At any rate, after the flatulence tax (different, Republicans please note, from the flat tax) announcement I could hardly wait for the Letters to the Editor; I wasn’t disappointed.

One writer claimed some of his cows were so upset they had gone in for counseling; others were setting up no-flatulence zones, and udders (my pun) had formed a Society to Halt Internal Taxes. Another writer foresaw the day when, unless replaced, this government would install fartmeters on toilets and levy a tax on home emissions. Continuing the theme, one writer coined: the Farm Animals Rumination Tax.

Here’s one letter in its entirety: What a load of old codswallop is a fart tax. For goodness sake, why not first fix our belching road fleet. After all, when was the last time anyone gagged on a sheep’s fart? [These Kiwis know their sheep.]

A Kiwi writing from Canada said his wife “is concerned about our future income based on my output; apparently I am a threat to the environment. My children believe me to be solely responsible for global warming.”

OK, enough barnyard humor. Back to the serious stuff.

2. Books. To soak up Kiwi culture I’ve read several books by NZ authors:

This Summer’s Dolphin, by Maurice Shadbolt. The jacket calls this “a memorable story from New Zealand’s best-selling author.” The story is set on an island, “a faded beach resort” (so states the back cover) in Auckland’s harbour, where various refugees from the city and life have settled. (The mythical island’s description pretty well fits Waiheke Island, described in the previous chapter in this saga.) A dolphin shows up and cavorts with the residents. This attracts a lot of notice (dolphins are prominent in Maori mystical stories), and soon the island is overrun with the media and hippies. Several island residents’ stories, most of them tragic in some way, are interwoven with the coming and ultimate going of this dolphin.

Man Alone, by John Mulgan. From the back cover: “a literary landmark that has haunted [NZ] writing for decades [published in 1939]. The man alone is Johnson, a Brit who goes to NZ after fighting in WWI. Johnson is self-sufficient and independent. He just wants to work and earn enough to eat; no ambitions beyond that. (Reviewers saw this book as a romantic statement of the Kiwi male self-image.) The Depression makes it nearly impossible to meet his modest aims. Johnson survives, but only after he is forced to fight.

View from the Summit, by Edmund Hillary. After the Everest semi-centennial hoopla I read this autobiography written in the late 90s. Hillary covers his Everest and other expeditions (at the time of writing the book he reckoned that he was the only person who had been on top of Everest and to both Poles). These stories are well-told and he is entertainingly blunt about the shortcomings he saw in some of his colleagues. He devoted his middle and late years to developing and managing a Himalayan Trust that builds schools, hospitals, bridges, and roads in Nepal and he served as NZ’s ambassador to India (including Nepal). One anecdote: His first recorded remark after descending from Everest was, “Well, George, we knocked the bastard off.” There’s a robust flair in this statement that would seem to capture the (romanticized?) Kiwi culture more than Mulgan’s Man Alone. (Susie: After struggling through 100 pages of various adventures and noting that it was going to be more of the same, I got worn out from reading and/or vicariously climbing mountains and skimmed through the last chapters. I preferred to get back to my popular literature fare. My favorite book was Morgan’s Run, about the British prisoners of the 1700s who settled on Norfolk Island (between NZ and Australia). Hishonor couldn’t handle this thick tome.)

Old School Tie, by Paul Thomas. This is an Elmore Leonard-type of crime romp among Auckland’s upper crust and lowest of low-lifes. It concerns the heretofore unresolved death of a high school girl. She was in the company of several high school lads at the time who now, 20-30 years later, are mostly amongst Auckland’s movers and shakers. The case is reopened by a bumbling investigative reporter who manages to resolve it in the midst of all sorts of mayhem.

3. Movies. After Whale Rider, we also dabbled a bit in NZ-made movies:

After reading a magazine article about the woman who wrote the screenplay and directed Whale Rider, we rented her previous film, whose title I’ve forgotten. Plot concerned Japanese newlyweds honeymooning in NZ. The husband was having functional shortcomings, but we didn’t get very interested in his plight (or hers), so didn’t finish the movie.

I had seen a positive mention of a movie titled (approximately), Topless Women Talk About Their Lives. That teaser title was a sidebar to the main plot – one character had made a documentary along these lines. The movie was a lot of screaming and carrying on that didn’t make much sense and wasn’t funny as advertised. Strike Two.

The movie listed as the most popular NZ movie is Once Were Warriors. We’ll have to catch that later because all copies were out when we tried to rent it.

Branching out, we saw The Man Who Sued God, an Australian film. Enjoyed that one a lot. It was neither blasphemous nor preachy, and there was good solid content along with comedy. The man actually sues his insurance company who wouldn’t pay up when his fishing boat was destroyed by “an act of God.”

Also saw three Oscar nominee films: The Pianist, Chicago, and The Hours. I thought The Pianist was one of best movies I’ve seen in a long time, enjoyed Chicago much more this second time around (we saw it again because I slept through much of it the first time), and really liked The Hours, also.

4. Church. After our Anglican experience (incidentally, the Dean sent us a concerned response last week, which we appreciated), for the most part Sunday morning has been Charles Stanley and Robert Schuller on TV. However, in our new neighborhood, today we attended the Takapuna Methodist Church (just up the road from Devonport). Great service, friendly people. One member we talked with was a retired teacher who had taught and coached one John Hood. Hood, who has been vice-chancellor of U Auckland, my connection with which started this conversation, became famous this past week because he was named to head Oxford University, the one in London. First non-English head in its 900 year history! That’s pretty impressive and we visited with his former cricket coach!

The closing hymn, from the Alleluia Aotearoa collection of NZ hymns, had this stanza:

When the coast is left and we journey on

to the rim of the sky and the sea.

Be the sailor’s friend, be the dolphin Christ.

Lead us on to eternity.

(from Where the Road Runs Out, by Colin Gibson)

This is our prayer as we journey next week to the rim of the sky and the sea.

Cheers. We’ll soon be rattling our dags to get home. To all who have tagged along and endured these reports, Good on ya! It’s been fun.

Love,

Rob and Susie

T OF C

HOME