connected, content

Sitting in a small patch of grass in the middle of the Otago campus I browse articles on the New York Times website in attempt to stay a bit connected with the world back home. Posting pictures on the web, skyping with family, updates on facebook and blogs, all keeping distance no factor in close communication. It seems trite but as I sit here, so far away, I cannot help but think of how we are all interconnected, just a few clicks away. The clock tower just struck one a.m. and a group of students walked by and asked, "Is everything was okay, mate?" I looked over silently and the janitor on a smoke break behind me answered, "yeah, just having a smoke." They passed and he paced around and eventually noticed me sitting below the steps in the grass. He said hello and mentioned how they must have been talking to me. I shrugged and said I thought they were talking to him. "Was there something unusual with sitting in the grass at one a.m. on my laptop?" I thought. He finished his cigarette and coffee and offered me a cup. Considering the time I declined his offer but he suggested hot chocolate and I gladly accepted. A brilliantly warm cup of hot chocolate with milk was handed to me with a smile and a "cheers, mate." I couldn’t express my gratitude enough, and he was gone, back into the building, with a whistle and a shut of a door. I love this city, this country, life.

It is the last day in March, and I have mid-term tests next week in two papers or classes. In my first few weeks here I kept dreaming of home, of friends and experiences and situations of my past, in the states, and everything except New Zealand. I would wake and almost forget where I was. The smell of the air from my window and the view of the hills in the distance and it quickly came back. It wasn't until about a month in that I began to remember and recognize my dreams of life abroad, or more accurately, my new home. I began to feel like I was really living here and not just away from someplace. It was during dinner this evening (consisting of steak, mashed potatoes and corn on the cob) that I had a strange case of déjà vu. It was the complete moment, words said, faces, gestures, setting, everything in its place; I was still and quiet. It is quite an odd thing, I feel as if I can almost remember a time when I woke up from a dream, and the dream was this moment, but was this just a memory of a not so distant situation of the same? Hm. Well the janitor came out and said the sprinklers start about this time in the night, I should get going. Goodnight.

a day.

i woke up this mourning.
this mourning, i woke up.
i rubbed my blurry eyes,
sat up and grabbed my glasses.
the sun passed through the opening
of my window shade,
reflected off a mirror
and gently kissed my face.
a time before would have been given,
gone before a thought was risen
aloft along the rest of them
so keen to just run down the stairs.
i stared.
i paused just brief so the light would gleam
changing waves of complacent seems
giving birth like mourning dew.
shining on through and through.

so much, so long, hello.

Well it seems that keeping a journal was at the tip top of my mind from the beginning, thoughts, experiences, tastes, smells, flora, fauna, all kept neatly tied and leather bound. As days passed and timetables established and friends made the attempts at keeping thoughts on paper were left at the 'do tomorrow' priority as there was so much to do today! Such that it's been over a month and I have but a bit of it written and so much kept inside, lingering and churning throughout my mind day on and out and it is time that dissolves the details and that mustn't happen, cannot happen, and certainly will if this procrastination continues. Soo, where to begin?

Yesterday it was St. Patrick’s day, which turned into a celebration of Irish along with my birthday. Technically it was still my twenty-first in the states, so it worked. The culmination of life at twenty-one years and a customary drinking day made for quite a night. This past weekend I attended a wild foods festival on the west coast in Hokitiki. Pickled hulu, sheep testical, deep fried cow tit, worm truffle, osterige, kangaroo, haggish, whitebait, kava fiji water, were all consumed, along with some late night fish n chips to top it off. Whew. They put beets on chicken sandwiches here, why not right? Before that was my second week of lectures of this semesters papers (classes). I just had to look at the calendar to map out days and events in my head and realized I’ve been here for thirty-six days and how that flew by! So much has happened; it feels like I’ve been here for so long. So the weekend before I last left off (march 6 thru 8) I hired (rented) a bike with a few friends and rode along the otago harbor and visited the larnach gardens and castle. The trip was forty kilometers, which is roughly twenty-five miles. The week before that was the first proper week of lectures, which gave me excitement of all the knowledge to come this semester. The week before that was orientation week, which included heaps of concerts and events for the incoming students. I had my first opening to the buzzing college life that makes Dunedin. The population is a hundred thousand and there are twenty thousand students, and that twenty percent makes quite a stir for the city. The week prior was an amazing road trip to the fiordlands, down around the southern coast, and the Catlins. I accompanied a friend from Kalamazoo, Chanterelle, who has been studying in Napier and woofing on an organic farm since November. That trip started three days after arrival in New Zealand. Still jet lagged and tingling with the new world buzz, off we went to venture this beautiful land. Plane ride here went exceptionally well, but what a long flight it was. If it wasn't for wine and great conversation from the single serving friend from LA to Auckland, I might have gone crazy. It was on the shuttle bus from international to domestic terminals in Auckland that I one of those unexplainable coincidence, meant to be, presumably fate, occurrences where I met a man named Lawrence who works for national geographic along with the natural history filmmaking grad program here at Otago. I had to interrupt his conversation with two other people but I couldn't help myself after hearing is film topic conversation alongside a glance at his nat geo hat. He was happy to hear of my travels and study topics and gave me his card to get into contact sometime. Hello New Zealand!

There is much more than the brief snippets of details from trips said above, but for now this will due. Along with proactive journey updates I must also manage some time better and sleep is necessary at this moment. say, goodnight.