A day without a bus driver

Wednesday the bus drivers went on strike during peak commuter time. Thursday the bus company retaliated by locking them out of their place of work. This basically slammed bus service to a complete halt for the entirety of the 25th of September.

Thursday was lovely. The weather was beautiful, warm, with a cloudless sky. I took the hint (as I had the day off) and went on a cycling expedition. I had it in my head I needed to get to Lyall Bay, which is to say, The Beach. The North wind was making its presence known, but at the moment it was at my back and it felt nice. I stopped half way through at a lovely little park, right next to the colourful boat houses. But my favourite part is the park benches, sculpted to double as lounge chairs.



When I got to the back of Evan's bay I took a detour to look at one of our city's many wind sculptures up close:



From there, it was on to new cycling territory. I followed the road signs to Lyall Bay. And coincidentally, my route took me right past the Go Wellington Bus headquarters, and a whole bunch of disgruntled bus drivers with signs:



Cars were honking their support when they drive by, and I waved as I cycled past. It was exciting. I'd never seen an actual Union protest before.

And finally, my destination.



Lyall Bay



It was strange, to have a day without bus service. All the commuters were forced to drive their cars into town, causing massive traffic. The parking situation in town was pretty dire. It became very clear how much Wellingtonians rely on public transport. Which is, to me, a positive sign. Lucky for me, the lock out was over Friday morning, and I was able to take the #3 into Karori Wildlife Sanctuary for my first volunteering day of the season.

Language

Okay, I've resisted as long as I can. I think I have to do a post about Kiwi words and phrases. Actually, since New Zealand lingo borrows heavily from Great Briton, a place I've never been, I sometimes have no idea whether a word is uniquely Kiwi or not. So this is really going to be about "stuff they say differently here."

Starting with a couple of my favourite phrases:

"pear-shaped"

Doesn't mean: A reference to someone's body type.

Does mean: Used to describe something that's gone badly, such as "that's when things went pear-shaped."

Analogous to: Similar to "went south" or "went to hell."

In popular culture: Used in a couple episodes of Farscape (an Australian-made sci-fi tv series)


"You're a star" or (even better) "You're a legend"

Doesn't mean: that you are literally famous.

Does mean: That you did something really good and the person is praising you for it.

Analogous to: umm, possibly "way to go" though it's not really the same. (actually, I can't think of an American phrase
that isn't used just as frequently as a put-down)

In popular culture: "you're a legend" is used in the Flight of the Concords song "The most beautiful girl in the room."



Well, that's a good start anyway. Now I think I'll get to work on a more exhaustive list.

Conversations Overheard in the Sauna

What's it like having a female Prime Minister?

I'm in the sauna on a 'mixed' day, which means the men outnumber the women roughly four to one. Which means mostly the talk in the sauna is about politics, sport, and business. They're discussing the latest political scandal - something about the foreign affairs minister and some shady campaign contributions. When one guy says, "She (Helen Clark) will burst into tears soon. Playing the sympathy card, that's what they do." To which a lady in the sauna replies "Ay! What do you mean 'they'?" Another guy adds "Well, she did cry over the ... (controversy over a parade of half-naked porn stars on motorcycles) She really didn't want that parade."

It is a simple fact of female physiology: women cry more than men. Have you ever seen a male political leader cry? Does any of this sound reminiscent of Hillary Clinton's recent presidential campaign? The difference is New Zealand elected Prime Minister Clark. Three times in a row.



PS: For those of you going "Wait. A parade of what??"
Yes I did say half-naked porn stars.

this evening's meal

Today we walked to Newtown - a suburb just out of central Wellington. It only took us about twenty minutes. We were in search of a new place to eat. We saw a Mexican place and a Chilean place that both looked good, but we settled on a Nepalese place as we'd never been to one before.

The Restaurant: Jewel of Nepal

The food: We got two curry-like dishes with saffron rice and veggies. I got lamb, Loren got the fish. Both were very tender and tasty. And the chai had coconut milk in it, which was unique. Also, nearly everything on the menu could be made vegetarian on request.

The atmosphere:
Laid back, lots of bench seats with little pillows, but the lights were too bright (something that perhaps only I would complain about). The best part was the middle-aged Kiwi fellow sitting in the corner playing blues music on a beautiful steel guitar while his wife sat nearby keeping him company. Completely inexplicable, but all the more pleasurable for that.

Work: Pros and Cons

Working with animals has its hazards...



I can't remember the last time my hands were scratch-free

On the other hand, I get to cuddle kittens


kitten season has officially started

... and on a good day, I might even get to cuddle a lizard!


the nice lady who owns this blue-tongued skink lets me have a cuddle whenever she sees me in the shop

Cuba

Last week we went to a Cuban cafe near our house. It had a mural on one wall and a huge photograph of Havana on the other.


(detail from the mural)

Sitting in that cafe brought back memories of my visit to Cuba. We mostly stayed in Havana which is not what I'd call a relaxing vacation, but it was one of my most memorable experiences. We stayed with locals. We talked with artists and taxi drivers, with actresses and University professors. We met people who had devoted their lives to the revolution, and people on the street trying to make a dollar off tourists so they could get to America. It was amazing. It was a beautiful city. In the evenings we'd sit around and talk about politics and about our day, trying to process what we'd seen, trying to make sense of the strange world around us. There were five of us: myself, my parents, and two of my cousins. My younger cousin had just graduated high school and had never left the States before. My older cousin is a gay rights activist in Florida. My father was the centre point of our group; the one who devised the trip.

I took some fantastic pictures on my old 1950's era split screen point-and-shoot. I am now feeling inspired to dig them out of the closet, get them onto disc, and also get copies sent to those who were on the journey with me. It's way overdue.

Foreign Things

Last week on the way to the pharmacy I noticed a little Asian market, so of course I had to check it out. It was pleasantly homely, with crowded shelves and, for some reason, an impossibly tiny driving range in one corner. Browsing the aisles of mysterious goods with undecipherable text it occurred to me that I am an immigrant living in a foreign land and yet I still have this impulse to put myself in strange and unfamiliar situations.

What does that say about me?

Stranger still, I encountered several familiar products among the exotic wares, items I hadn't been able to find New Zealand before. I found Dr. Pepper, and what must have been Gatoraide though it was only recognisable by the distinctive lightning bolt logo. And, most amazing of all, SPAM!



(only the most expensive SPAM I've ever seen)

In fact, I realized later I'd walked out of there with two comfortingly familiar items:
strawberry mochi (for me) and Dr Pepper (for Loren).



(the mochi was very tasty!)