I always hear it before my eyes find it; that sound, the jostling of smooth tide beaten rocks underneath the cold waves that wash onto the shoreline.  I breathe out, and the rocks exhale with me.  Breathe in, they sing as my lungs fill with air.  My ears focus on the wholeness of the sound and I feel peaceful again.  Just 16 kilometers outside of Wellington, I have found myself at Makara on this day made of sunshine.  My spirit lifts with the incoming waves, and I feel my center come back.  Being inside of the city makes it hard to catch my breath at times.  The hike was a short six kilometers, made of rocky ocean, cerulean water, sheep, and gorse covered mountains.  On this day, the clouds are not descending on us, and the South Island juts out distinctly behind the Cook Strait.  The ferry pushes through the choppy sea en route to Picton.  After a steep ascent, we lay in the swaying grass.  "How good to have reached Heaven.  We're ever so thirsty."  And it is.  Heaven is here, under our feet, as well as in front of our eyes.  

I've been short on adventuring as of late, and I'm feelin it.  The southerlies are blowin through and rattling Waiteata, making me thankful I'm inside instead of out.  I hear it all night and all day, racing across every construct.  The wind here whips you like a lasso and can knock you off your feet.  When I lay down to bed at night, I listen to it for awhile, wondering if it has exhausted itself out yet.  Eventually, I always lose the contest to the wind.  

School is in full force again.  It's been quite a while since I have been inundated with assignments, but I'm certainly back in the trenches.  I present my first Rotary speech tomorrow to a club about thirty minutes away.  I've been organizing my thoughts since Friday, so hopefully I can keep them actively listening for twenty minutes!  We shall see.  Papers, presentations, and assignments are all adding up to equal a nice and productive week.  If these winds keep up, there is no place but the library I'd rather be.  Mother nature, bring it on!

Let's discuss college.  We've all been there...it was good times.  We studied quite a bit, made Club Mullins a second home, and had a large amount of fun in the process.  And Razorback games.  Oh Fayetteville...(that is my longing voice).  Now go ahead and age yourself to 25 and then drop yourself back into that same routine (without the Guitar Hero since that's not "cool" anymore).  Add in three careers, a few wonderful boyfriends, and quite a few countries -and all of that personal and professional growth.  That equals a pretty good and steady lady as it turns out.  Enter 3 undergrad roommates on study abroad plus the hoards of American friends they have (how do they all find each other?!).  Now look y'all, I studied abroad three times in college.  I get the drill.  I wasn't the most fun person then as I was never much of a drinker, but I had my bits of fun.  3 am at Reverse on a Friday, all night on the beaches of Puntarenas, and drinking to the sound of a typhoon ripping apart Pingtung while I was locked and under house arrest for a few days (in those house arrest days, I was forced to rewatch Twilight over and over while making my McDonalds happy meal last for three days).  See, fun.  Now these kids - and yes, I refer to them as the kids, are havin their fun times as we speak.  Well, probably not as we speak because it's 9 am on a gorgeous Saturday morning and they are probably holdin their pillows and the girls that happened into their beds wondering how in the hell they are going to do St. Patrick  justice today.   Ladies, I'm going to give you a piece of advice.  When selecting a gentleman, stay FAR away from the partiers, the ones that can so attractively down four scrumpys and a box of wine in an hour.  Those superior specimens WILL get fat, bald, become unemployed, produce unfortunate children, and eventually blame you for their overall resentment in life.  Remember what your mommas said - go for the quirky funny/smart ones.  The ones who sit back and smile as all the banchees play Edward 40 Hands, but wake up early on a Saturday hangover free and ready to go adventuring (preferably with you if you hooked them the night before).  This advice comes from a net of zero marriages mind you.  Last night was a normal Friday.  Well, normal in the sense that I had my purse stolen at a bar the night before including all of it's contents.  Namely my iphone 4s, my coach purse, my FAVORITE lip gloss, my wallet, my 3 debit cards, student id, house key, passport photos, and a not so attractive Arkansas driver's license.  This event landed me at the Wellington Police Department for a bit of the afternoon.  As I'm waiting in line to fill out my police report (required for me to get a new cell phone), I am replaying bits of Locked Up Abroad in my head.  "Yes the man gave me that large hollowed out bull horn as a souvenir, but I had no idea that there could be cocaine inside of it!  Wait, why are you arresting me?!  Twenty years to life??!  ... Twenty four hours later I'm mowing the lawn on my hands on knees, bright orange uniform, plucking grass outside of a Thai prison with my chipped fingernails.   Some women are discussing who is going to initiate me into my new home...
I'll tell you what.  Going to a prison in a foreign country is a good reminder to keep yourself out of trouble. 
Five hours of canceling debit cards, getting new keys, new IDs, finding a way to acquire money, and filing insurance claims, my day was off to a rocky start.  Being thirty minutes late for my first Climate Change class was also an enjoyable experience.  I thought, "hey, no worries.  It's the first day of class and I'll just slip in the back."  It was not to be.  Turns out I am one of 9 students in the class, "recognizable in name by my lateness."  Ouch.  "Presentation next Friday, who wants to start us out?  Casey, how bout you take that on?  Right-o."  Thank you professor, you just made my day that much better.  As referenced in my facebook status, this week was not my week.  Include a fight with your boyfriend (that you picked as it turns out) and whew, I needed a drink.  Instead of a drink, I opted for a 7 pm walk around the Botanical Gardens with my new friend Julianna.  I come back home to a house full of the kids hecklin me about why "you never hang out with us.  Oh, and we just ate your salsa."  There are about fifteen of them in a small American circle.  "My brother is the lead singer of a band."  "Dude, I bet you can get so much action if you go to his shows."  Another conversation is brewing - one that you can hear loud and clear because these kids love to scream over each other when they talk.  "Have you tasted these chips?  The chicken kind?  They taste JUST like Thanksgiving...it's crazy."  Casey picks up one and eats it.  "You are on dangerous ground right now."  Casey puts said chip back down, forgetting that it will be needed during post drunk binge eating time.  How could I forget about that?  In an attempt to escape back upstairs, I start to head out.  Before I take a step, I feel a hand cup my left butt cheek and I hear a "You'd better go upstairs before it gets dangerous down here for you."  Yes, because I'd run the risk of hooking up with a 20 year old like yourself.  Thanks for the heads up.  

So yes, that is what my home life looks like to date.  Me sitting in my room attempting to study, and the kids downstairs playing with their new $15 dollar speakers "just to see how loud they'll go."  (quite loud it turns out)
I'm up in my room at 9 pm trying to write my first ever real Rotary Speech and bribing myself to get started on my climate change work and maybe even take a look at the environmental law assignment due next week.  That is difficult when Flogging Molly is being blared downstairs and the kids are screaming at each other for hours.  They eventually head out around midnight.  Silence.  Bliss.  Heaven.   
4 a.m. "Boombababoombaboombaboombababayyysuperbass..."  I'm sleeping!  Growl.  Hell.  I stay in my room though and read some more about Paul Farmer.  Even though I am old, I don't want to be a fuddy duddy.  Eventually the kids fall into their respective beds with their respective ladies and pass out.  I have no clue how two people can fit into a dorm room twin bed, but I'm assured that it isn't difficult.  

Currently it's 9 am on an absolutely gorgeous Saturday in Wellington.  I didn't get to go hike the Tongariro Pass today because of the lack of money and id that resulted in my stolen purse.  It's too bad, because NZ doesn't get many days like this.  Instead, I have made myself a to do list with ten bullets, all assignments that need to be completed.  I don't have a prayer of getting it all done, but getting a good solid start will make me feel like a real person again.  Here's to hopin!  I think "breakfast will be a good way to get myself goin.  I have milk from March 12 in the fridge (it's March 17...) and some Kellogg's flakes (NZ doesn't frost).  That'll get me off to a good start."  As I walk down the stairs, I smell french fries.  Bottles, french fries, scrumpys, hair brush, clothes, shoes...all over the living room.  I make my cereal and head back upstairs to where it's safe.  As you read this, I will be sitting in a library looking out a window at the harbor, wishin I was tramping outside somewhere.  Don't feel too sorry for me, I'm studying exactly what I want to in the exact place I have always been meant to be. :)

As the hour hand ticked over to 6 pm, I felt disappointed that the last two hours had passed by so quickly.  Had it really been the entire two hours already?  I have certainly felt this way at a few points in my academic career, but those classes were very much the exception in a myriad of gen eds in college.  Here in Wellington, I cannot wait for class.  Finally being given the opportunity to study exactly what I want is a freeing experience, one I am so thankful for.  However much I love my classes, the expected reading and continuous studying are difficult to work into the new schedule.  New Zealand is rife with distractions, all of which point my nose away from the books.  

To lessen the distractions, I joined Tramping Club yesterday...  The group has an incredible hiking trip planned most every weekend, and it will very seriously help me to give up all my weekends and not study!  Guess that means I'm going to have to adopt late nights and early mornings during the week!  The Tramping Club meeting proved to me that kiwis actually do have a sense of humor - contrary to popular conception.  Imagine a slide show full of regular men and women in the nude.  Now put them in the middle of the NZ bush and take pictures.  Throw in a few David Hasselhoff's and a prancing Leonardo DiCaprio, and you pretty much have it.  

This weekend, Kaitlin (another Ambassadorial Scholar from Alaska), her flatmate, and I headed out to Island Bay on the rare and absolutely beautiful day that was Saturday.  The temperature, perfect - the sun - shining in a cloudless sky.  The three of us tramped for a bit, then ended up at a rocky part of the ocean.  These rocks are incredible.  Rock to rock, mini ecosystems spring up in between them, and one can see hundreds of plant and animal life squeezed in between the small crags.  As the waves pull in and out of the rocks, you hear a whooshing sound that is rhythmic enough to lull you to a seat.  This siren's song of the ocean is a song that I have quickly become accustomed to, and one I can't imagine not being used to.  The ocean has a way of restoring your senses - of waking up your landlocked United States soul.  

Post tramp, the three of us headed to the Marine Research Facility of Victoria International.  This day was a part of SeaWeek, a yearly event that aims to educate the public about the acquatic environment surrounding them.  The Victoria facilities inspire even those who were never interested in marine science.  I have been interested in the past, so I was in a candy store.  Large open air tanks were constructed and filled with creatures from the marine reserve that is fifteen feet from the front door.  A dozen species of starfish, sea sponges, cucumbers, urchins, seahorse, VERY large crayfish, and mollusks were brought in for others to enjoy.  I was able to examine each and spend the next bit of time wondering why oh why was I not a marine biologist.  A donation of brownies to the visitors comes round, and I was in heaven.  Seeing the faces of the children interacting with the animals reminded me again why I love the world we live in.  Getting children excited about the ocean and the natural world around us is reinvigorating.    

This weekend, there is much on the agenda.  I have my first trip outside of Wellington on the books - Tongariro Crossing.  It is a day hike, 17 km, and is supposed to be one of the absolute greatest in the world.  Here's to hopin I can keep up!  Further, here's to prayin I get all my homework done before it's time to go!  Between wanderlusting, homeworking, and Rotary (and not necessarily in that order), I've got my hands full!  

I have just returned from my first meeting with my host club, Wellington South.  The joke was made that I would now have a whole family of grandfathers here in my new country.  It turns out, that may be the case!  The average age is 80-90, and there was only one woman in attendance aside from myself.  One Rotarian even told me he was in attendance at the original performance of Henry V, circa 1600.  At least they have a sense of humor.  One gentleman was trying and failing to remember my name, and someone across the table yelled “She is Casey, you are George, he is Keith, and I am Peter!!”  Bless em.  The meeting is held at the Victoria Bowling Club on Pirie Street next to Mt. Victoria.  I have never before heard of “lawn bowling,” (http://www.victoriabowlingclub.org.nz/) but it seems as if it’s a bit of a dying sport.  I plan to have a go at it myself, and I’ll report back! 

We had a great lunch of roast beef and mashed potatoes, followed by a caramel cake and ice cream.  After, we shared tea and then began with the speakers.  I spoke briefly with the club, followed by Tony Paine of Victim Support in New Zealand.  He gave an incredible talk about the role of victim support in New Zealand and how we can get behind the organization to assist in the mission.  I certainly will become a part of the program while I’m here. 

Anna and Francis have been assigned to be my host counselors, and I was finally able to meet both of them today and yesterday.  Wellington South is in need of a bit of a revamp, and I hope to take some part in that.  I have been invited on the boys fishing trip on April 1st, so that should be quite an interesting time.  Excited to be here, and excited to be a member of Rotary!

Monday has finally come and gone, far exceeding my expectations for a first day of school.  With 9 am, another orientation; this time, I was to meet all the people in my specific college and later, the environmental studies program.  After sitting down to read the sweetest news article I've read in a very long time, (http://www.stuff.co.nz/dominion-post/news/6521912/Proposal-to-wedding-in-six-hours) a fair skinned freckle faced guy sits down beside me, red faced and huffing.  He says “I so underestimated those hills.”  Me too friend, meeee too.  Excited that I’m not the only one who looks like a hot mess traipsing around Wellington, I decided to befriend this gentleman.  We discussed the normal things – name, where are you from, what are you studying.  Michael, Petroleum Geology, New Zealand, Germany, and Ghana.  That is the great thing about this city.  You never know who will drop right into your life at any given second.  Further, you certainly cannot even begin to imagine all the wonderful things that have been a part of their life, and how they may influence yours in the process.  As divine humor would have it, a climate change major and an oil exploration major are paired together at the start!  Michael and I waited in line for our postgraduate pictures then ventured out for coffee on the sunny porch of Milk & Honey.  En route, we swooped up three more new friends in our program.  Tagan, Mark, and Aidan.  Tagan, a lovely girl from New Zealand, invited us out on her boat for a sail.  Tagan and her partner decided that it was a better idea to just buy a boat and live in the harbor than pay rent.  These are people after my own heart.  Around five a clock, a group of us met at the harbor to set sail.  Scrumpy’s in hand, we were off. 

Our able sailors raised the canopy into the sky as we watched Wellington Harbor drift away behind us.  Michael donned a captain’s hat and took the helm, which probably should have scared me more than it did.  Fishing poles out, it was game time.  Johann, a former commercial fisherman from Wellington (and a popular man with the ladies), caught the first and only fish that we saved.   This red cod was an easy five pounds with a mouth the size of a grapefruit.  Next catch, a small shark.  The reef tipped shark was wrapped up in a towel and released.  Poles were all in use, so I picked up a hand roll and put some squid on the end.  After a few minutes of sailing along, I felt a pull. 

“Is that a bite?  Yes, that’s a bite.  Shit, that’s a pull.  I need a real pole.  How do I do this?  Roll up the string.  Aaand we’re rolling.  Roll roll roll.  I see a fin.  I see a dorsal fin.  Um, that’s a shark!  How do I reel in a shark with my hands?!  I’m not putting my hand in that mouth for the hook.  Oh, he’s prettyyyyyy.” 

The thought process pretty much went like that.  Never fear, he was taken off the hook and sent back home with his family.  Total catch – 4 sharks, one cod, one eel, and a rather large barracuda. 

As night fell, the sunset wrapped around us.  It formed a sort of arc towards the south and made way for the stars that were slowly becoming visible in the night sky.  On this rare clear night, the southern sky of stars blanketed the ceiling above us, and the moon reflected in the ripples below us.  On the walk home, I felt a deep sense of gratitude for all that has led me to this point in life.  I am exactly where I am supposed to be.  

Some days you've just got to get out.  In New Zealand, getting out means walking thirty minutes from home and feeling like you are the only person on the planet.  It means breathing in air that hasn't touched anything since it has blown off the glaciers of Antarctica and feeling that same air burn your lungs with it's purity.  Escapism is no longer dinner and a movie with girlfriends...it's walking down the harbor to find seals dripping with water and sweat after fishing all day.  

After a particularly grueling few days of staying up too late, I needed a soul recharge.  About 11 o'clock yesterday morning, I did a quick google search for activities in New Zealand, and I came across a seal encounter tour.  As it's quiet in New Zealand now, I thought to phone the group to see if they were doing tours.  Fortunately for me, they were, but the tours were completely empty.  After requesting a student discount (which they gave me, awesome), I hoofed it over to the iSite Visitor's Center downtown and met the guide.  Myself, a gentleman from Auckland, and the guide Billy and I were off.  

After about 3 minutes of driving out of town, I start to see panoramas unlike any I have ever seen.  As we began to climb out onto Ashton Fitchart Drive, you begin to be surround 360 with rolling hills and mountains covered in the yellow flowers of the gorse bush.  Here, the wind turbines stand 100 metres high and are adorned with blades that reach 60 metres.  You can hear them whir in the wind behind you as you look out over the harbour in nearby Wellington.  Remnants of the last catastrophic earthquake (1855) are everywhere, as if the quake was yesterday.  Billy reminds us that Wellington is seven years behind schedule for the next big one for the Wellington Fault, and it puts things in perspective.  These massive mountains and boulders sit restless under our eyes, and one cannot help but to feel the power radiating from the rock.  

We pass by a pair of ostriches, bought for $15,000 a pair in New Zealand.  Unfortunately, the birds don't sit on their eggs in captivity, so that is an investment that hasn't panned out for most.  Billy shows us the Marnica Bush used to make honey.  Before he plucks the leaves, he asks the plant's spirit for permission and hums a sort of mantra that puts us in an almost trance.  Maybe I should have been doing that every time I've gone to pick flowers?  Farther down the way, we come across mushrooms that look like they have been dipped in red paint and lacquered.  They are large, shiny, and absolutely gorgeous amongst the green palette of the hills, almost begging you to eat them.  In Russia, there are stories of reindeer succumbing to the charms of the red.  The story is that the reindeer would eat the mushrooms and become high enough to feel like they are flying (hence, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer).  From that, the story of Santa Claus...really makes a person question things!

The guide tells me that Harwoods Hall Beach Forest is the most incredible place he has seen in New Zealand, so I take a mental note.  I'm absolutely going there as soon as I can.  In front of me, there is a medium size mountain that emerges from nowhere.  It's Mount Doom from Lord of the Rings.  I've GOT to watch one of those...

Another plant, the Koa Koa, is distinguishable from it's heart shape and red stem.  Hikers chew on it to prevent toothaches, and the Maori use it to cleanse their blood and rejuvenate the brain.  I tear off a chunk and begin to chew.  It tastes like pepper and vinegar, and it makes me dizzy almost immediately.  I spit it out instead of swallowing, and I hope my blood doesn't suffer as a result.  These leaves are no joke.  

After a few hours of exploring the hill sides, we come across two wild horses.  Taking a minute to stare at an unbridled creature makes you feel right in your heart.  It is the way it should be, and the way it will always be here (I hope).  As we turn the corner, there is a crooked lighthouse in the distance, but the waves are breaking so high that the beach is washed out.  We retreat to the opposite side of the beach and encounter a few seals lying in the sunlight.  What must feel warm to them has me shivering, and I begin to understand this layering thing.  Seeing these seals in their natural habitat makes my heart smile, and knowing that soon, there will be orcas here feeding on them - kind of makes me smile too.  I feel bad about that a little bit...  The seals are a sleepy animal.  With huge bursts of energy for hunting and play, they must crash hard.  I think I came upon them at the crash stage.  After staring at the seals for a bit, we stopped on an angle at one of the beaches and listened.  Here, the pebbles on the beach sound like a rainstick as the waves surround them and pull back out to sea.  After traveling so far, you almost feel like the water is sighing in and out with satisfaction.  You can feel the sound in your chest before you can process it in your eardrums, and it feels like magic.  I have plans to camp there as soon as I can.  David, you with me?!

Billy, the guide, stops so the three of us can have a bit of tea and biscuits (New Zealand for cookie - it was my first word, respect) and relax for a moment while we continue to listen.  The seals look up at us as if to say "Hey, give me that cookie" and then fall asleep.  I've been there, so I understand the sentiment.  I'm on the most beautiful natural harbor I have ever seen, drinking tea with two new friends, a seal, and water so loud it screams.  Life is good.  

To cap off the day, I went to meet some new friends and watched pieces of LOTR.  I couldn't focus on it, but I did recognize a few places I was seeing.  How amazing is that?

The night before last, I met David Campbell (my fellow ambassadorial scholar) out on Cuba Street.  Over a drink at Matterhorn, we got to know each other.  David is a person I feel an instant connection with.  I'm sure he doesn't know it, but I see pieces of myself in him, and it makes me feel at home just to be around him.  He is a wonderful guy, and I'm happy to know him here in this amazing country.  Rotary has done a fantastic job of selecting scholars (thanks again Rotarians, we are loving life here).  David and I moved on to the next bar, Hotel Bristol, and played a game of pool (that would eventually turn into about 8 games)...We made quite a few new kiwi friends, and I hope to meet them again sometime soon for coffee.  Elliott, one of the gentlemen from Wellington, explained to me that he knew EXACTLY how to sound like an American from the south.  It goes like this.  "Howdy y'aaalll.  Go out thereee and check on the chili on the barbeeeecue."  "Elliott, you do know that you don't cook chili on the barbie, right?"  "You don't?"  "Nope, you don't."    I think I may have crushed his heart in that moment.  

Rotary Orientation today at 4 o'clock.  I cannot wait to meet my new club.  Icing on the cake, I get to reconvene with some of the amazing scholars from my region in the states.  What a great start to an already wonderful weekend.