Report 6

Feb. 26-March 4. Executive Summary. In the middle of last week my teaching assignment changed, but it’s OK and I met class for first time today (March 4). It went reasonably well, I think. Made an overnight weekend trip to the Bay of Islands, had fun.

Details. Spent last Monday here in the apt. working on class notes, but did happen to call in to the Stat Office to ask about something or other. Secretary gave me a message that, with my hearing and her pitch and accent, all I could gather was that I should come in at 8.30 the next morning. So, I did to find out that an all-day dept. faculty meeting was being held. The dept. has a new “Head of Department,” (a nice neutral title that avoids the awkwardness of trying to decide whether to refer to that person as a Chair, Chairperson, or … ) and he wanted to talk about his philosophy and views (his hopes and dreams) and to have some staff presentations to get others thinking about how to strengthen the dept. -- e.g., spot and recruit good students, teach well, generate research funds. (Incidentally, the HOD announced that teachers in the dept. had won two of five university-wide awards for teaching excellence – TEACHING STATISTICS!) – so it’s clear that they’ve been doing well.) The day was a good opportunity for me to get a feel for the dept.

At the end of the day, HOD says t’me: Did ye know nobody’s enrolled f’yer class? No, sez I. Dept. Office Mgr. told me there was nine. (What she said was that there were nahn, which I heard as nine, not none, which is what she meant.) But, I’m not taking this personally. Grad students eligible to take my class had not heard of me, had not asked anybody, and had not been informed who this guy, me, was and what a treat it would be to be in my class. In addition to the HOD change, there was a change in the prof responsible for advising grad students, so … the proverbial crack. Well, what to do – start packing? (Insert by Susie: I had mixed feelings—Rob deserved a chance to teach, but I could have been packed and on the plane post haste—actually, that’s not totally true—we are having a wonderful time, but the USA still seems a long way away—however, the B&B owner where we are staying said it is all relative. It takes 12 hours to get to America and 24 hours to get to England (his homeland) and he thinks that’s a piece of cake.—More later in the report when el profesor allows me a “go” at the keyboard.)

Turns out there’s a senior level class in experimental design and the instructor on that had been tasked to do something special for the Dean, so he was overloaded. Could I take that class? Yes, I could and would. This makes it a class very similar to those I’ve taught at UNM and UM, but more condensed. It meets once a week for two hours. Also, there are 99 (nahnty-nahn) students enrolled, but a TA has been assigned to “mark” the assignments and provide tutoring. The only constraint is that I need to match my presentations to the Lecture Notes authored by the regular instructor. That’s taking some work, but, hey, I don’t mind putting in some hours on my 6-day weekend. This is the level of student I want to reach – mostly nonstatisticians who will one day be in careers that would benefit from knowing some practical statistics. (Some of you have seen my quote of Archie Bunker: “Don’t give me no stastistics, Meathead. I want facts!” That’s my message.) So, I’m comfortable with the change.

One further note. This class is taught on Tuesdays. There’s another track on Thursdays, on another topic, taught by another prof. Together these two half-classes constitute Stat340. Anyhow, among the first things she told me was that about half of the class will disappear in a few weeks, only to show up for exams. And, on exams, cheating has become a serious problem. All a pleasant prospect, so we’ll see. Woody Allen said that 90% of life is just showing up – well, maybe only half that if you can pass the exam.

Last week was cloudy and rainy, but we decided that if weather permitted, we’d travel northward up the E coast of this island to see what we could see. Things were pretty good on Sat. am, so we departed with a goal of the Bay of Islands and the villages of Paihia and Russell. Most memorable stop on the way was Sheep World, where we saw a demo by sheep dogs. It was amazing to watch them herd sheep, guided by special whistles from their handler and their own instincts. One breed of dog controls by barking. At the signal he barks continually while trying to keep the herd bunched and dashing to cut off any escape attempts. Another breed, the border collie, if I recall correctly, controls via eye contact – not barking a bit but never taking her eyes, in this case, off any miscreant as she drives the sheep and blocks any attempted escape. Once in a while a sheep makes a break, but one of the dogs chases it down and the sheep is driven back to the herd, looking thoroughly cowed – or sheepish, take your choice – as if wondering, Why did I even try? The demo also included sheep shearing and lamb-feeding. We’re holding the finished sheared product. We didn’t do any shearing. It was surprising how docile the sheep are in being handled like this. The chap putting on the show was very entertaining. Said the only thing stupider than sheep is the bloke who farms them.

At the Bay of Islands, so named by Capt. James Cook because of its 100+ islands, first pakeha (anglo) to discover it, we found a cheap room without a view, then caught a ferry across the bay for dinner in Russell. [Note to Mike Blackledge and book club brethren: didn’t get Mike’s request for Capt. Cook-relevant photos, pert. to “Blue Latitudes,” until we got home. Sorry, will look for other opportunities. Additional literary note: there’s a Zane Grey Café on the Bay because ZG did much deep-sea fishing in the area.] Russell was one of first Brit settlements and is of historical significance, but we got there late, ate. and returned to our room. (The Russell meal was one of our best meals – more on cuisine some time; for contrast, next day I had a toasted spaghetti and baked beans sandwich! Who’da ever thought of opening a couple of canned goods and putting the contents between slices of toast? Waitress said people usually just ordered one or the other, but if I wanted both, that’s what I could have.)

(Enter Susie: one thing I know FOR SURE is that one cup of NZ coffee gives you a jolt that lasts approximately four days. Your choice is either instant coffee or plunger coffee which I will have to demonstrate upon our return, but it is amazingly good and the strength of it puts any Starbucks to shame. Also, my son, Matt, will freak at this, but there is no catsup—only runny tomato sauce disguised in a catsup bottle. Matt has taught his family that everything tastes better with a little catsup on it. )

The next day we took a jet-boat tour of the bay, including passing through the scenic hole in the rock. Ride was exciting – bouncing over the swells, spray flying – and we enjoyed it. (Oh! (Enter Susie)--Come on, Rob—the ride was MORE than exciting. The boat called “The Mac Attack” was an attack on the Pacific Ocean by a driver, i.e, captain (maybe named Mac—oh no, his name was Tucker with aa T, he said) who entertained himself (me thinks) by seeing how many waves he could take while managing to keep his passengers in the boat. When I got on the boat, I wondered why the seats were so tight (other than the obvious overweight reason) and after donning slickers, putting on life jackets, tightening seatbelts and hitting the first wave, I realized why the seats were so tight…….Catapulting across the ocean with all that paraphernalia on would not have been a pleasant sight. Of course daredevil Rob wanted to sit in the very front seats where we got the FULL effect of all the quick turns, waves and sea water.

It was a GREAT ride.

Enough for now. We enjoy hearing from you so keep those emails coming. Thanks.

Rob and Susie

T OF C