To go or not to go with the raggle taggle gypsies oh?

So, my plans have taken some shape!

Soon after my last post, I emailed Larry Gordon, director of Northern Harmony, the choir I toured Europe with in 2005. At the end of my internship in summer 2008 with Village Harmony (the sister organization that does singing camps) I was invited to be on this spring's Northern Harmony tour, but since I planned to finish up at Wesleyan in December, I wasn't sure what my plans would be, if I'd have a place I was renting, a job, etc. When I went back and squatted at Wesleyan for that spring, I decided that I actually wanted to travel instead of join the Real World, and decided in March to come to NZ with Woody some time after graduation. I emailed Larry back to say that I would in fact be able to go on tour, but I had taken too long--they'd filled all the spots! He told me they would keep me as an alternate, but that's not something you can plan on, so Woody and I decided to come to NZ for seven months. But now, with that plan discarded, I figured I might as well send an email to say, "Keep me in mind. I'd still love to go on tour if someone cancels last minute." I woke in the morning to a reply saying, effectively, "Perfect timing. We just had someone cancel. Here's the itinerary. I'll book your flight." So overnight I've gone from being very lost and not knowing how long I'd stay in New Zealand, where else I would go, for how long, what I was doing in life at all (other than the idea to visit all the taiko groups here), to knowing I need to be in Vermont by January 19th for rehearsals and that I will then be doing a tour of the East Coast U.S. and U.K., France, Switzerland and Germany until April 28th!

So that's exciting news #1.

Exciting news #2 is that things have so far gone along swimmingly and presented me with lots of great opportunities. After going into Dannevirke in the morning with Sue to peruse the market day deals, get a tour of the city in her Z3, and see an old car shop like the one in Masterton, I left the Azalea farm on Friday and took the NakedBus (I'm not sure why it's called this... maybe because it's just the basics and thus cheaper? $11 instead of the $30 InterCity bus) back to Napier. I'd seen on TV that Rhythms of Ireland, a Riverdance-type troupe from Dublin, was playing in Napier, so I wanted to be here by Friday night for that (unfortunately it was a bit too cheesy for my tastes as a show, not worth the high ticket price, but still some good dancing). I'd hoped to stay at Stables Lodge (where we'd stayed before and made some friends), but because it's Labour Weekend here, they were full, so I got a bed at the Criterion Backpackers Inn, this big hostel that's all done out in typical Napier Art Deco fashion.

In 1931, Napier was destroyed by burst gas lines from an earthquake and they rebuilt most of the city in the architecture of the time--Art Deco. It's subtler than I'd expected, not in your face, but if you look around for it, it's readily apparent. The Criterion is one of the few exceptions, Art Deco in a touristy way. And it very big, but (or perhaps consequently) people don't hang out and meet each other. So I slept there--not very well I might add, since the first night four girls from the dorm got drunk and kept coming in an turning on the lights all night, and the second night someone snored loudly--but hung out at Stables with my German friends.

Sunday I, along with about half the hostel, joined the Pania Plodders, the local Hash House Harriers group (google it!), though all but Tim, David and Dennis decided to leave before we really got going. They laid a false 15 minute trail in the city, then bussed us out to the country and the real run was out among the grapevines in the hills and down by a river--great scenery for a beautiful day! I stayed that night with two of the hashers and had a very silly night with them and some of the others, drinking and dancing to 70s tunes.

And the past two nights I've gotten a bed at Stables, while I wait for a phone call from Karlos, the gypsy musician. The other cool thing that was going on this whole long weekend was the Gypsy Fair. A group of modern-day gypsies travels around both islands for 9 months of the year, then takes the winter off. They sell wares they've made or imported, sell cotton candy and coffee, do tattoos and piercings off a bus, read palms, do portraits, paint faces, play music. The fair is made up of all of the their booths which hang off the side of their house-trucks. Some of the houses have more traditional curved tops like you would picture a covered wagon caravan, and some of them have quirky-angled house-like structures, but all sit on wheels. They're converted from trucks, buses, library vehicles... you name it. But all are painted in colorful hues. They are wonderful.

Since I'm now in the mentality of travelling alone, I'm making more of an effort to talk to everyone I meet, so I talked to the people at one of the stands, and after a bit was invited inside for a cup of tea. Ian's house is of the quirky variety, but very cozy inside and with ingenious locks on cabinets, fridge, doors, etc. to keep things from popping open in transport. I told him I'd been studying music and he said I should go play with the two resident musicians, Karlos and Frank, who play all day and have a set of congas set up for anyone who wants to play. I went and sat in the sun and listened for a while, singing along to myself, and Karlos noticed I knew all the words and kept motioning for me to come up. Thinking of my tattoo, I realized I had to get up and play. So I played congas for a while, and sang backup harmonies and soon they gave me a mic. They said it was nice to have an extra person up, changed up the monotony. When the fair was over for the day, Ian introduced me to them properly, I went and had a beer with them in Karlos' caravan. When I said I had no plans of what I was doing next, they invited me to come along with them to Gisborne up the coast.

And so the question, whether or not to go with the raggle taggle gypsies oh? It sounds like such a cool story, but I wonder what it would be like in reality. I've done a number of things just for the story, for the bragging rights, but it often doesn't turn out to be worth it. And my time is feeling short. I would enjoy singing and playing with them, and they even offered to let me do my own set, but it would mean giving up on my plan of going to a taiko and fire dance show in Hamilton this Saturday. Perhaps I'll go to Hamilton and then try to hook back up with the fair later? Karlos went to visit family in the area for a couple of days, but should be calling tomorrow or Thursday and I'll have to decide by then. I know from the outside it may seem like an obvious choice, but I'm still not sure. I'll let you know what I decide!

Fear-chasing flowers: Athalbrae Farm, Norsewood, NZ

Despite several washings with soap and scalding water, my hands still smell of dirt.

This past Tuesday, Woody and I took the bus from Hastings to Norsewood. I'm pretty sure it was the reverse passage of the one we took from Palmerston North to Napier, and even had the same bus driver. I wonder if he recognized the two Americans carrying small instrument cases.

Norsewood is a stop on the route, but only that. In the seemingly middle of nowhere, the bus pulled over to the side of the road and the driver announced in his bored nasal tone that we were in Norsewood. Woody and I jumped up (the only two to disembark here), and scrambled off the bus, where we were immediately met with hugs by Sue, our WWOOF host. We grabbed our bags, crossed the motorway (which is really just a two-lane road, don't let the term fool you) and piled our packs into the back of her car. We drove through the heart of Norsewood (I think it had a few shops? Very small, one-horse type town that I haven't been back through since) and in a few more minutes turned up the drive to Athalbrae Farm.

Athalbrae is what they call a Lifestyle Block. We were told by Andrew at Highden Manor that these are land portionings of varying sizes (early on they were 40 acres, but when that proved to be too much for people, they brought them down to 10 and then 5 acres) where city people can pretend to be farmers. Sue and Jim are not city people. They used to help with Jim's family's farm which ran over 1200 sheep, but since Jim wants to grow organic and his 85-year-old still-farming dad only uses traditional pesticide methods, they decided to lease their part of that farm back to the family and move out here to this 50 acre plot to live as organically and sustainably as possible. They grow their own meat from 10 sheep with 10 really cute little lambs (who are right now in the hopping/frolicking stage and super cute!) and a 5 week old calf named Thibeau (Jim wanted to name him T-Bone, but Sue wouldn't let him, so they both settled for the suggestion by a French WWOOFer they had at the time), milk and butter from his mother KC the cow, eggs from the dozen chickens, have veggie and berry gardens, and over 600 rhododendrons and 400 azaleas all currently in bloom, planted by previous owners.

This is where the dirt comes in. The main task Jim has had for this week has been digging out a big hole for a pool they're installing, and then digging a long drainage ditch and laying pipe because of ground water/a spring he hit at the bottom, and because such physically strenuous work would probably not be good for my back, Woody has been helping him. Instead, I have been weeding a big bed of red azaleas that has been in neglect for the past four years. And the best way to get at the sneaky underground roots of one particular type of grass is to hook in tooth and claw. Ok, maybe only claw.

And for the past 5 days now, I've been at it. Our work schedule reminds me of hobbits: work 9-10:30, half hour break for tea and cookies, work 11-12, hour break for lunch, work 1-2:30, half hour break for tea and cookies again, work 3-4:30, take a break til 6:30, then eat dinner, followed shortly by dessert of fruit (or sticky pudding) and ice cream... constant breaks for food and so many sweets! But even so this means I have my fingers crammed up to the elbows in dirt for 5-6 hours a day! And because I'm sitting in it and flinging it everywhere as I flick it off root clumps, by the end of the day I'm covered. And the scent persists.

On a totally different note (though perhaps I turn my nose up at this too?), Woody and I have decided to part ways. I won't go into details (don't worry, it's all pretty amicable), but the short version from my side is that I am very much a social creature and Woody likes a lot of alone time, and the two don't mix very well when you're just two people travelling together. Also, since I realized NZ was a bit of a random choice (I think I was excited by the idea of travelling with Woody and didn't care much where we went) and since I now find I don't have any affinity for/vibes with/whatever-you-want-to-call-it about NZ, I think I will probably only stay here a few months instead of the original seven. So we're on very different travel schedules.

Where does this leave me? I spent the next morning thinking about it as I weeded. Since last time I chose a WHO but did not assert a WHERE or WHAT, this time I'll try something else. While I'm here, I have a few WHEREs I want to hit, but not a lot of them. So I'm focusing the rest of my NZ time on the WHAT. I've decided to do a taiko (Japanese drumming) tour of NZ.

Over the summer, I found one taiko group in Hamilton that was having a workshop Nov. 12th. I had signed up on the website, but hadn't received confirmation, so yesterday I emailed to make sure I was signed up before arranging my plans around being there. I post scripted, "should I bring my own bachi?", hoping it might work as a sort of 'open sesame.' It worked. She wrote back asking about my background and after hearing I'd taken taiko at Wesleyan for two years, invited me to come to their classes on Monday and Wednesday if I'm still around, and also told me about 6 other taiko groups in NZ who I could also try emailing. Taiko is something that has really struck a chord in me and drawn me in over the past two years (finding out I could continue to attend the taiko class was really one of the main reasons I hung out at Wesleyan this past spring!), so hopefully visits to these other groups will fall into place and give some meaning to my time here.

And I won't lie; I am a bit overwhelmed with the sudden changes in plan. But according to (not necessarily a reliable source, but appropriate):
"How the color red affects us mentally and physically
* Increases enthusiasm
* Stimulates energy
* Encourages action and confidence
* A sense of protection from fears and anxiety"

Thank goodness for the red azaleas.