This week has been one of preparation - housing, classes, meetings, orientation, and tours.  LOTS of them.  I didn't get off to a swimming start in my settling down in Wellington process.  I came into town one afternoon before moving to check out the new digs.  After a walk through Kelburn campus, I headed down to my new address.  Imagine the streets of San Francisco.  Now double their steepness and you'll come to an almost vertical line up.  Multiply that by two.  The walk to Adams Terrace was absolutely MISERABLE on the way back up, let me tell you.  I was huffin and puffin like a steamship, and I'm not in bad shape.  It wasn't pretty.  As far as the actual house, I had a feeling about it.  It seemed kind of dark and a bit ominous, and it's residents were described as less than tolerable.  All of these things brought me to the conclusion that I should probably find somewhere else to live.  I traipsed my red post hill face over to the housing office and tried to dial down on the high maintenance.  Fortunately, the housing folks found another place for me - I could live with a few Ph.D. students from Iran!  Lovely gentlemen I was told.  I went ahead and nixed that too.  Cue the high maintenance / good sense.  After I turned down that option, I accepted a place with three undergrads from America (worried to say the least).  I have been pleasantly surprised with all three of them.  It is early yet, but something tells me that my second home in the library will always be there as a potential refuge.  

Emily is from Wisconsin (go Pack go) and is my next door neighbor.  She is good people, loves horses, and is laid back - all good things.  Dan from Penn State is a senior on his way to Deloitte.  Another win.  Our most recent addition Zane from New York has been MIA, but I think I like him too.  Good to go!

The actual flat is probably the best this campus has to offer.  It is stripped down - made of sheet metal and bare plywood - blue carpet and blue walls from top to bottom.  No bells and whistles (minus the AWESOME water pressure) that might take away from the incredible view that is a part of each floor.  I'm fortunate enough to have a harbor facing room.  Every morning I wake up to the sound of seagulls, wind, and water.  I can see the ferry heading to Picton every few hours, and the clouds rolling by in their fast New Zealand way.  The wind rustles the leaves to the left, and I wake up happy, knowing I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.  As you walk up the staircase to floor #1 (mine and Emily's floor), there is a huge pane of glass that creates a window the size of an entire wall.  You feel like you are sailing over the city.  The view only gets better as you walk to the third floor (Dan and Zane's).  At night, the harbor glistens like a Christmas tree, the lights reflecting in the ocean.  It is magical.  

After settling in on Sunday, I began work on my schedule.  I was so disappointed to find out that the course on sustainable energy that helped draw me to Victoria was cancelled as the professor is in Japan working on the Fukushima disaster.  To his credit, what he is doing is far more important.  Still, I was sad and a little mad that it isn't being offered.   After a tough time tracking down my professors, I managed to speak with most of them and get a feel for their courses.  I'm not 100% it will stay this way, but so far, I'm enrolled in Climate Change Policy, Development Policy, Environmental Management, and Environmental Law.  It's probable that I'll drop environmental law to be replaced by a course one of my professors is making just for me on sustainable energy.  I would have to be in charge of the entire thing as it'd be one on one.  If I can manage to have enough self discipline to stay on it without lectures, it'll be a win.  We'll see.  I'm working on the details of a marine conservation course, so that might be in the woodworks too.  It is a great feeling to finally be enrolled in a program that has classes that I cannot wait to take.  No more core classes, no more nonsense, just things that matter to me.  All of the orientation has me a bit nervous - the students have been telling stories of intense exhaustion, frustration, and questioning - all a result of the horrendous workloads that their masters have placed upon them.  Fingers crossed I'll figure this stuff out and get back into the swing of things.  It looks like I'll have no classes on Mondays.  Good thing, because I have some traveling to do.

Class doesn't start until March 5, so the students have some time on their hands.  I live around an energetic bunch of undergrads who have been keeping me young.  Last night, we crashed a toga party...togaless (I've gotta keep my dignity people) and had ourselves a right fine time.  Giving 18 years old permission to drink, a stripper pole, togas, and reallllly loud music is an interesting choice - but seemingly fun for the kids.  I had a great time hanging out with some new friends and thinking about some old ones.  Most of the undergrads here are on their first study abroad, and I hope that they leave here with the love for this country that I have for Italy.  I hope they find their own Hailey, Sevan, Dawn, Julie, and Jacks, and I hope they realize how special this stuff really is.  As for me, I'm enjoying being a kid again.  No worrying about the five year plans, no stress, just fun.  When these girls scope out the gents, they don't think about how much money they make or whether or not they will age sooner rather than later with a bald spot and a muffin top.  Nope, they just think about their here and now, and I'm lovin it.  We stayed out until 3:30 am last night.  On the walk home, we layed down on the rugby field next to my flat and stared at the southern sky.  Things look different from this side of the world.  Tonight we are going at it again.  After about seven years of being in bed by 10 or 11 with a good book in my hands, this change of pace is welcome (until it comes time to wake up in the morning and I remember why I'm not a drinker...).  

I cannot wait until classes start, but I'm loving this in between.  In the meantime, trips are being planned, friends are being made, and I am not worrying about the future.  It is a sweet relief.  Friends and family, hope all is well!

PS - The water really does flow the opposite direction here.  WHAT?!  I know.

Minus Jake and Ben's wonderful accents, this last week has felt like a week at home in Hot Springs.  I feel relaxed and like myself here with Jo and her boys, and I will miss this home the second I set foot out the door.  After only a week, I've settled into a routine - one with three square meals a day, soccer practice, music lessons, dishes, puppies, American Idol, and an early bedtime.  My first friends in New Zealand are a wonderful bridge from Arkansas to Wellington.  

Tomorrow afternoon, I'll move into my new flat on Wai-te-ata road.  From a preliminary drive by the house, it looks amazing.  The road leading to the flat is winding with a continuous thirty degree climb.  My legs will be rock hard by the end of 2012.  Think good thoughts for me today, in hopes that my future roommates will help make this the #bestyearever.

As the plane landed in Auckland, the flight attendants came around with some sort of disinfectant spray.  Kiwis take their bio security seriously.  On the flight now from Auckland to Wellington, observing has been fun.  The accents are great.  I'm wanting someone to talk to me just so I can hear them speak.  I think this is the first time I have actually listened to the airplane safety information.  Richard Simmons is on the safety video.  "To undo your belt, just lift the flap.  No sweat!!"  Good pun there.  Alright, these folks maybe have a sense of humor? "If you want to smoke on the plane, sorry but you're plumb out of luck."  Awesome.

As I walk off the plane, I see a lovely face that looks just like home.  It's Jo, my wonderful hostess for the week.  We chat for a bit and then get into the car to head to her home in Tawa.  We are driving on the wrong side of the roadddd!!  Heart palpitations slowly fade away as I realize - hey, this is okay.  They are supposed to be doing this.  I arrive to a pot of chili on the stove, and oh how happy it makes me.  Tahiti took it out of me, and the jet lag is nippin at my heels.  

I've been staying with here in Tawa for five days now, and it has truly been a great experience.  Jo has two great boys.  They have been to America 19 times they have informed me.  Their kiwi accents are amazing!  Along with these great boys are two dogs, Toby (yellow lab) and Beethoven (big ol rescue baby), both of which are so sweet.  Having dogs around can make any bit of homesickness go away.  In the front of the house, two ponies and four sheep!  How about that for a welcome to New Zealand?  Right next to the house is an amazing hiking trail covered with huge ferns and trees I have never seen.  The sharp bramble bushes with yellow flowers cover everything on the hillsides.  Up close, not so pretty, but far away, absolutely gorgeous.  The woods sound different here.  The different species of birds have distinct calls, none of which I have heard before.  One of the birds, a Morepork, literally sounds like it's saying - "More Pork!"  So literal.  
New Zealand has some interesting phrases.  For example:

Bloke - Usually a stranger - "Who's that bloke eh?"
Boy-Racer - A young guy with a fast car
Bugger All - Basically means you know nothing about a subject
Buggered - Exhausted
Chemist - Pharmacy or drug store
Chilly Bin - Cooler (My favorite!)
Chippies - Potato chips
Crash Hot - Excellent
Crook - Sick 
Dodgy - bad
Eh - To make anything you can imagine a question
Flash - Looks really expensive
Footpath - Sidewalk
Go Bush - Get away from it all
Good On Ya - Well done
Heaps - A lot
Jack Up - Organize
Jandals - Flip flops
Jersey - Sweater
Judder Bar - Speed bump
Knackered - tired
Lollies - Any and all candy
'Mare - Bad experience
Piker - One who gives up easily
Pissing Down - Raining 
Pong - Reallllly bad smell
Prang - Car wreck
Rark Up - To tell someone off
Rellies - Relatives
Rubbish - Trash (That's an easy one!)
Skiting - Bragging
Skint - No money
Spit the Dummy - Get angry
Stirrer - Trouble maker
Stuffed - Tired
Sunnies - Sunglasses
Suss - To understand
Sweet As - Cool
Ta - Thank you
Tea - Dinner (Confusing!)
Throw a Sickie - Take a day off work
Tramping - Hiking
Togs - Swimsuit
Whinge - Complain
Wop-Wops - Out in the boondocks
Yonks - A long time

I'll keep investigating and see what other new words I can find!  

I move into my house on Sunday.  I have no idea what to expect, so keep your fingers crossed for me!  As for today, I am registering for classes.  I have to go to school?!  That part of this whole thing is just now starting to sink in.  With classes like Sustainable Energy and Climate Change, I think I'll be allllright.

I've thought so much about this move.  So many were possible at this juncture, but this is the path I chose.  Environment matters, but is it my be all end all?  On this flight from Tahiti to Auckland, I'm sitting beside a man who is in the denier camp.  We've spent the last two hours discussing climate change, and I feel good doing it.  I want to learn more so I'll have even more ammo for my arsenal.  I'm ready to start my classes so I can keep on challenging those around me who think environmentalists are ridiculous horn blowers.  I could do without the explanation of this man's failed marriage due to his wife's lack of libido, but hey, what can you do?  

I feel so many thing right now.  I'm carry around fear, anticipation, curiosity, and homesickness, but I'm ready.  We're about to cross the international date line.  As I move towards the future both physically and mentally, my hopes are high.  I always tell friends and family weighing decisions that the decision they make is the right one.  It is the one there is.  Seems simple, but it is hard to wrap your mind around at times.  I'm glad I'm here in this moment - starting over again in a new place.  It is so hard sometimes to be separated from my family, friends, and Alex, but we will all get through it.  Already I have had quite an adventure in French Polynesia and that was only four days of my life.  Here's to the next 365.  

The light roll of thunder and the tink of ping polg balls is my afternoon song.  The waves are lapping the beach, unlike their big brothers a kilometer out who are frosting the skyline like a frothy meringue.  Three incredibly tan Europeans are making their way back toward the shore while an overfilled row boat files in behind them.  The crags of Moorea are directly in front of me, topped with fat clouds that promise rain.  The blue green water in front of me is dotted with the yellow and black fins of the perch like fish that swim right up to shore in search of toes.  I count twenty three catamarans directly in front of me; it seems we all agreed to drop anchor in paradise.  Twelve bungalows sit to my left, certainly full of happy honeymooners.  The sun baked Tahitians have a secret here, one the photos won't keep for long.  

The rain is falling on the thatch above my head, but I don't mind.  I'm in lust with Tahiti.  

After twenty four hours of travel, I arrived in Fa'a Airport.  It's possible I was the smelliest person around.  Stefan fron Sweden took mercy on my mountain of bags and agreed to shuck the cab and take a shot at Papeete public transportation.  Two fifty pound bags and three flights of stairs are quite an endeavor alone, so I was very much thankful for him.  Finally, I arrived at the Sofitel and was immediately served a delicious drink that was cold and infused with an unknown herb.  This drink was accompanied by a chilled towel.  Great first impression.  I was able to check in early at which point I practically dove into the shower.  I went in search of Juliette Phillippe, President of Rotary Moorea.  Juliette immediately gave me a lesson on the Tahitian pearl, and presented me with a beautiful oyster shell as a welcome gift.  She and I made plans to meet at 11:30, for what, I could not quite understand.

Juliette's heavy French accent makes her unintelligible to me at times, but the beauty of French and English merged together is a treat.  We walked outside into a blast of hot air and drove to a local sushi place for lunch.  Paul Sloan from LA met us and seems quite happy with his change in residence.  Eating sushi off a conveyer belt within earshot of the ocean makes the world feel just right.  Paul is Secretary of Rotary, and will soon become the President.  His club is beginning the first matching grant project on a nearby island that lacks access to clean water.  Guess what, they need help over the course of the next few years.  I volunteered!!  Hopefully something will come of that chat.  Business soon turned into coffee and dessert downtown.  Imagine a trifle.  Layer 1 - fruit and liquor.  Layer 2 - bananas and vanilla ice cream.  Layer 3 - Whipped cream and cinnamon cocoa puffs with biscotti.  I'm not ashamed to say I ate the entire blessed thing by myself - washed down with a sugar laden espresso.  The large ice cream wonder was intended for three, but I'm inclined to say that my day dates saw joy wash over me with that first bite and conspired to suddenly lose their appetite.  God bless em.  We meet again at 8 for dinner, so I'll try to keep it in check this time.

Imagine a spin bike.  Now set that bike in the ocean enough to let the handlebars stick out.  Right past the waves directly in front of me is the "gym."  Post ice cream incident I decided to get a little spin in.  My legs churning created a huge amount of splashing.  "Don't sharks get attracted by splashing noises at dusk during feeding time?" That spin class lasted about three minutes.

It is 6:58 am here in Tahiti and I have successfully made it through another round of airport fun!  Passport control, security screening and check in in Papeete threatened to test my patience at this early hour, but I thought back to the beautiful beaches of Moorea when I felt myself getting too impatient.  This airport is an outside one.  From where I sit I see small airplanes in front of me, stone floor below me, and palm trees and flowers to my left.  Honeymooners are taking final pictures and readying themselves for new lives together.  It is a great thing to be surrounded by language again.  The passports in each person’s hands are different, and it makes me feel at home.  Although I miss my loved ones so much, I feel most alive when traveling.  One day, they can travel with me.  At the top of the places I would like to meet them – Moorea.  Yesterday was a whirlwind of a day.  Without much time left in the islands, I ran around seeing the sights as much as possible and then headed out to the ferry to peek in on the island of Moorea.  Paul Sloan, an LA expat and fellow Rotarian, picked me up at the dock and took me for a two hour car ride around the island.  Within minutes of leaving the dock, I looked to my left out onto the absolute most beautiful beach I had ever seen.  The water seems to glow with a sort of bioluminescence.  It is incredibly clear, and a person can see the coral without even leaving the car.  Bungalows abound in incredible resorts that have nestled themselves quietly into the island.  The people are sparse here, qualifying Moorea as one of those few places in the world that is both beautiful and peacefully left alone.  The Paul Gaugin hangs out in the lagoon near the Sofitel resort, and the picture takes my breath away.  Paul and I stop a few times while he tells me stories of the island.  

Here in Tahiti and Moorea, there is a story about how the freshwater eel came to be.  Here's the reader's digest version, or at least as much as I can recount by memory!

There once was a beautiful goddess named Hina.  Hina’s beauty was matched by no other, and her thick black hair shone with depth that seemed blue.   Hina’s father arranged a marriage for Hina.  Accepting her fate, Hina arranged to be married.  While walking down the aisle to her soon to be husband, Hina discovered that she was to marry Te Tuna, the god of eels.  She ran away and refused to marry.  Te Tuna, so entranced by her beauty, had immediately fallen in love with her.  He began searching for Hina, swimming up rivers to find her.  (Now the eel lives in freshwater.  See what they did there??)  Hina meets Maui shortly thereafter.  She explained to Maui that she had a stalker and asked if he would kill the eel.  Maui agrees, and sets about to slay Te Tuna.  He finds the eel and chops off his head.  Immediately realizing that this was not just any eel, but the god of all eels, Maui immediately becomes fearful and asks Hina not to bury the eel on the land of the island, thinking it will become cursed.  The eel speaks to Hina and explains to her that if she would just learn to love him, he would provide both her and her family with all that they could ever need.  He then tells her that someday, she will kiss him.  Then he dies.  Hina wraps the eels up in leaves and disposes of him in the corner of the house.  In time, a strange tree grows where the eel’s head was buried.  This tree was unlike any tree the people had ever seen.  It’s leaves could be used to build houses for the people.  It’s trunk, for weapons.  It bore fruit for the people, and the juices were unlike any they had ever tasted.  This tree was the palm tree!  One day, Hina lifted a coconut to her lips to drink the sweet liquid.  On the coconut, three black spots that turned into the eyes and lips of the eel.  She had finally kissed Te Tuna.  Ergo, freshwater eels and palm trees! 


We head up to Belvedere Lookout Point to a sight that is truly astonishing.  Two lagoons on either side of the main mountain make for a sort of W layout.  The greens and blues meet together and coalesce into a serene landscape that the camera just cannot capture.  Our time there was too short as my tour had to be quick.  If one misses the ferry from Moorea, they would be hard pressed to do anything but wait for an entire day.  Granted, it would be one heck of a place to be stranded.  Cook landed here in the mid 1700s, and one can only imagine that his breath was taken from his lungs the second he came within eyeshot of the gorgeous island.  After a very quick goodbye to my tour guide, I ran to the ferry and made it without a minute to spare.  We were ten minutes late, but so was the ferry.  I ran up to the top deck and barely had my seat before we were moving.  The skyline as you depart from Moorea is a craggy and emerald masterpiece that is edged by this electric water brimming with sea life.  My biggest regret about my time in Tahiti was that I did not spend all of my time on Moorea.  Luckily for Air Tahiti, they will be the recipients of another charge on my debit card – I am going back to Moorea.  Paul tells me that he can see the humpbacks from his living room window.  He has built a house of glass right on the water in Moorea, and the whales bring their calves to rest after a great migration from Antarctica.  He says that he sometimes looks out of his window and sees an eye as big as his body staring back at him.  “If there is anything in nature that is a religious experience, this is it.”  I still haven’t seen a whale in the wild, and it is at the very top of my list.  They arrive in August and stay until October.  There is no question that I will come back to try to see them.  So to any of you who would like to come and visit, meet me in Moorea, you will not be disappointed.

 “You look like a Texas girl.” 
 “Oh, thanks?”
 “So what would you like to do in Tahiti?”
 “Get under that gorgeous water.  Find some sharks!”
 “Sharks here are monsters…very dangerous.   No.” 
  
Welp, there goes my shark diving.  Maybe I will do it anyway…tomorrow. 

Hotu arrived in his chariot at 1:15 – a truck with some seats and a tarp in the back.  He put me in the front.  I would like to assume I was getting special treatment, but I’m going to go ahead and guess it is because I’m the only single traveler this island has seen in a while.  C’est la vie. 

Every quarter mile we drove, Hotu pointed out a fruit bearing tree of some sort.  Mango, coconut, lychee, banana, star fruit, breadfruit, dragonfruit, guava, pineapple…they’re all here.  We pulled over and Hotu showed me this type of fern that closes immediately when you touch it.  It just snaps shut like a clamshell.  BAM!  He grabbed a leaf for me from the forest.  “Smell it.”  The leaf was more fragrant than fresh lemonade squeezed from thirty ripe lemons.  This stuff needs to be bottled and sold, because I am now in the market.  I look up, and in front of me is a hundred foot waterfall, separated by pitches.  A mile down the road is the power plant.  40% hydroelectric and 50% solar, and everything works exactly as it should – clean energy is embraced by the islanders and is utilized in a big way here.  I stick my head out of the window to breathe in the smell of Tahiti.  The air smells like lemon, wet and clean.  Constant rain creates waterfalls that erupt out of the flower covered mountains.  Hotu plucks a hibiscus and I put it in my hair.  Another corner and there are now waterfalls on each side.  I stick my head out the window and listen as the rain makes a hollow tink as it hits the flower tucked behind my ear.  I spray bug spray, but they swarm on my skin anyway. 

A friend of Hotu’s spots us and walks towards the truck.  As he is walking towards us in his orange Hawaiian shorts and hello kitty flip flops, I notice two trunks for legs.  He has two palm trees tattooed on the front and back of each leg.  I’m talking three foot tall palm trees.  These are no joke.  His considerable tummy also houses the outlines of a very large turtle shell. This is a man who loves his island. 

The world is awash with deep hues of green that drink up the rain.  The mountains sound like they are smiling. 

Hotu asks if I have seen Mutiny on the Bounty before.  Apparently Papeete is the stage.  I’ll have to put that on my list. 

We pull over again next to a Tahitian chestnut tree.  If you grab a rock and strike the trunk, it gongs with a hollow boom.  These trees were once used for communication.  They sure beat out our cans and string routine…

There is a tree outside of Papeete called the Hotu tree.  The green fruit is put into a basket in the river, and the fish swimming near fall asleep.  They float to the top of the water and are then gathered up by hand, still unconscious.  This method of fishing is now illegal because the fruit was so potent it began to kill the coral reef.  That is one serious fruit… 

The rain keeps pounding the car, but we go for a swim anyway.  In the caldera between huge volcanic mountains, there is a swimming hole that topped any I could even imagine.  I walked to the water’s edge and jumped in without pause.  When I surface, I opened my eyes to a waterfall in front of me.  Next to the waterfall, a rocky area that acts like a natural hot tub, bubbling away fiercely.  The water is cool from the rain, and clear enough to see a few feet down.  The smooth rocks at my feet are soft enough to make me wonder if they are the freshwater eels we had just met upstream.  I was banking on the fact that they are scared of people…glad it worked out in my favor.  This swim refreshed my senses and made me feel reborn.  Even my skin feels softer.  What do they put in this Tahitian water??

The Rea is a pink and red flower in the shape of a cone.  If you squeeze it, a liquid with the consistency of shampoo comes out.  It smells like hibiscus and honey mixed together.  Turns out, the Tahitians use this flower for shampoo, and it works better than anything you can buy.  I tried it, I’m sold.  I can still smell the Rea on my hands…another potion I’d like to bottle up and take with me. 

What an incredible day on the island.