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.