The winter breaks are long in China and I managed to get back to visit folks in Seattle from January 10 to February 20th. Returning to China after that visit home was one of the hardest things I ever did, and it was a hard road to emotional recovery in the bitter cold afterwards. In the last few years abroad, my sense of “home” has changed a lot. I love my friends and family in the US, but now when I visit, it’s more like a vacation, and getting back to my host country is “going home”. I’ll never stop loving them, but looking back on these letters, I am glad that this level of homesickness and culture shock depression is a rarity in my life today. But don’t worry, next time there will be flowers.
Feb 23, 2008 at 12:28pm
It’s Saturday morning here and I’m about halfway unpacked. I’m getting some laundry done and I’ve managed a trip to the store for the basic essentials, food for me and the bunny and new dvds.
I have my class schedule and my books (though I haven’t looked at the new books yet). The students I handed out as pen pals will be my students again this semester, along with some new ones as well. Classes start on Monday, so I’m going to spend a chunk of time this weekend looking over the books and filing out paperwork (yay bureaucracy!).
The bunny is well, however we’re going to the vet soon anyway because I got a really enthusiastic greeting when I got home and I now know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it is indeed a boy bunny.
The sofa is not as bad as I’d feared. The hole seems to be underneath the sofa, so the bunny crawls up inside it and vanishes.
It’s kind of wierd being back. Everything is familiar yet strange. The smells especially, not all bad ones, just unique to China and to my apartment here. The weather is ok, its sunny and cold (not quite as cold as when I left, I think we’re above freezing now) its even pleasant if you stand in the sun and the wind isn’t blowing.
Alot of the anxiety I felt over returning is gone (leaving again was the hard part, now that I’m here I guess its easier). Its strange that this place somehow feels more stable than Seattle. I loved seeing everyone, but the whole time I felt out of place, and not sure what to expect from anyone or anything. I think that would change if I had a job and an apartment of my own, but still, its strange.
It was really awesome to be home for a while, although I have to try not to think about it too hard right now. I hope you’ll all continue to visit the board and chat on IM. It sounds cheesy beyond belief, but I can’t stress enough how much it helps me to have you all as my friends and my support structure while I’m way out here.
Love and Hugs
Feb 24, 2008 at 6:43pm
Day 3, and I’m already going insane…
The weather is still evilly cold, especially when the wind blows, so its hard to make myself go outside for anything non-essential.
The party Friday and game Saturday have led to a really slow g-talk for the last couple days, so try to check in soon.
The bunny had a little conniption fit and knocked over his litter boxes (not for the first time), so I finally went out and bought a full size covered cat box. The lid is off while he gets adjusted, but the sides are quite high, and it is (I hope) too heavy for bunny to overturn. I’ve left the lid on the floor to see what he thinks of it, I’m still not sure if I’ll use it on the box, or just keep it as a bunny hideout elsewhere in the room.
Classes start tomorrow at 8am. I’ve written my syllabi and now there’s nothing but the waiting.
I checked around a few websites for job listings, I may try to get something as a proofreader/editor to fill in the extra time and earn a bit more.
I’m going to try to figure out my new camera this week, too so I can upload some pics of the sofa damage everyone keeps asking about, and of course of the bunny, which has grown more into his ears now.
And I think I’m out of things to report just now. ttfn.
Feb 29, 2008 at 5:33pm
The first week is over. I just got back from my last class on Friday afternoon.
All in all, it’s going well. I didn’t venture into the city this week, mostly allowing myself time to get adjusted and to get a feel for what my free time is like during the week.
I’ve decided that since I have classes that end before noon on Tuesday and Wednesday that I’m going to attempt to install myself at a cafe with free wi-fi in Beijing on those afternoons so I can maybe have a strong enough connection to upload pics and maybe even *gasp* watch Youtube!
I’ve joined Facebook, many of you have noticed.
I’ve found a neat website called thebeijinger, which has lots of classifieds for jobs and events so I’m looking there for something interesting to do in my spare time/weekends. So far I’ve put out feelers for a position as a blues singer at a club and for a Saturday afternoons meeting “culture club” that features hands on activities of Korean and Chinese culture and language. More on those as it progresses.
Classes were uneventful. My schedule this semester is a little strange though. I have my favorite classes again (the ones I put up pics of), 3 groups that each meet 1x a week, I also have the same group for advanced conversation that meets 2x per week, and a new group for “American Newspapers and Magazines” reading course that meets 1x a week. For all of these classes our first day was just catching up from the break, or in the case of the new class, getting acquainted, and we won’t really get into lessons till the next meeting.
The wierd part is that I am a “guest teacher” for another set of classes. There’s 8 classes of about 80 students each that are all taking the same course (at different times of course). Now, I have one week with each of these 8 groups of students, at 3x a week. There are, however, 20 weeks in a semester, so for 8 of those weeks I have 3 more classes than the other 12…. oh, and since its 8 groups all learning the same thing, I have to teach the same 3 chapters from the same book 8x… joy.
In other news, I’m learning how incredibly hard writing a good professional CV actually is… anyone who has some experience in this that wants to help, I’d love it. I can’t believe I’ve made it to my age and never really had to write one, but as it turns out I’ve always either been trying for really low level jobs that wanted applications instead of resumes, or got hired by recommendation from within and only had to hand over a resume for “the files” rather than actual competitive job seeking.
Stay tuned for updates on the extra curricular life and of course the bunny… I hope to make it to a cafe this weekend, but if not, it’ll be Tuesday (your Monday) before I finally get some pics up.
TTFN!
Mar 4, 2008 at 6:45pm
I wasn’t online all day today because I decided to try to go to the wi-fi cafe I mentioned earlier. It turned out to be REALLY hard to find, and I spent almost an hour wandering around the part of town its in before I was able to get comprehensible directions from someone. This was in part because no one knew where the place I was trying to find was, and in part because those who knew were far enough away and I was unfamiliar with the streets and landmarks that anything past “go that way a while” was more than I could follow. But I found it, and the weather was nice and sunny today, so it wasn’t too bad to be walking outside.
Its cute, and though it was after the lunch rush when I found it, it didn’t seem crowded, only a couple other people. Unfortunately, the plugs were all 2 prong or Chinese standard 3 prong, so I couldn’t plug my computer in.
Being tired from my journey, I decided to sit and check out the menu anyway. I got a banana/ginger/orange smoothie, which was nummy, and I had a chance to peruse their menu and prices, which are both highly western and reasonably priced. Sure its more expensive than eating at the cheapo diners or the street vendors, but the average seems to be about 50 Kuai for a meal and drink, and there were lots of specials that were less. (remember that 50 kuai is still only about 7$ US), and the menu had several things that looked tasty and Kaine friendly.
I only stayed about an hour, then on my way back I decided to try to catch the bus at a different station, since several people had told me the lines were shorter. The line may have been shorter, but the walk from the subway was much longer and the wait between buses was also longer, so I doubt I’ll be using that again.
The upshot is that I spent about 4 hrs in transit and 1 hr at the cafe today, and I’m beat. However, now I know where it is, and that I need to bring a converter, so I’ll be better prepared when I go back, which will hopefully be tomorrow, as I’d like to try to go Tuesday and Wednesday most weeks.
I think the upscale environment and regular access to affordable western food will do me some good, and assuming the wi-fi works, I’ll be able to get more photos uploaded while there, including, of course, photos of the neighborhood its in…. if it weren’t for the writing I wouldn’t have taken it for part of China. It’s so CLEAN, people were even washing the trashcans on the sidewalks!
Ok, that’s my ramble, catch up to you all soon!
Mar 11, 2008 at 8:29pm
Long, Long Day
It started with me waking up at 5am, restless, because I actually caught up on sleep last weekend, and wasn’t exhausted, then tossing and turning for 2 hrs in and out of sleep and the weirdest dream that i was fighting Lord Voldemort… but it turned out to really be Raif, and the whole thing was a movie set… yeah
Then, in my early morning bleary haze, as I chow down my oatmeal and try to remember what I’m teaching today, there is a pounding on my door… notice I do not say knocking… which continues virtually nonstop till I open it, only to find an out of breath Chinese woman I’ve never seen before who explains in broken English that she has now come to my apartment 4 times looking for me because she needs an English teacher for her school on Saturday mornings. “No thank you, I really don’t have time”, some how takes more than 5 minutes of me and my oatmeal getting cold as I stand there with the door open at 7:30 in the morning. She leaves, I go back to checking my email. 2 seconds later, more pounding. She is back to ask me if I can ask my friends if they are interested in teaching. I try to tell her, because I know for a fact, that none of the other teachers have time or want more work. I finally even resorted to loudly explaining this in Chinese, in case she wasn’t getting it in English. she asks, what about my other friends, and I say they’re all in America. And I can’t get her to leave me alone until I agree to take her phone number anyway! worse than Jehovah’s witnesses, I swear.
So, now I’m late, because this woman… grr… anyway, I’m rushing off to my 8 am class, trying not to glower at the morning gray smogginess, when all of a sudden, a bright patch of yellow catches my eye, and I see FLOWERS! beautiful tiny yellow flowers on a bush that kind of looks like someone pulled a willow tree down till only its branches were above ground. I’m told they’re called spring greeting flowers here. So, better.
Class, yay, class, more class, ok they aren’t really that exciting, though they are better than last semester.
Then a quick lunch and off to the bank.
Abbey agreed to go with me today, to help out, but she fobbed me off on Wang Meng, a very sweet, but totally backwater Chinese man, with much less English than Abbey has. (and since I wanted Abbey for difficult translations that occur in international banking issues, you can imagine my frustration). Wang Meng is also from a small town, and this is his first job, and he just started last fall, about 2 weeks before I did. I was actually guiding HIM through Beijing to get to where we needed to be.
Leave the apt at 1pm, miss the close bus, so we walk to the far stop and end up waiting till the next bus that would have picked us up at the close stop shows up. Traffic jam.
Finally get to Beijing, and I have to go first to change the money to USD, since this process at the bank can be somewhere between difficult and impossible, and usually expensive. Then go BACK to the place we got off the bus, get to the bank, only to discover that they apparently have their entire English speaking staff working today, and Wang Meng has nearly nothing to do, other than to write the address in Chinese for me.
Wait
Wait
Wait
Wait
Wait
I have no idea why bank lines in China last so long… got my form all filled out holding on to my number…
Wait
Wait
Wait
Almost 5pm, my number pops up. The actual process with the teller is short and easy, and hopefully in a few days, I’ll have money in my US account to pay bills with.
I part ways with Wang Meng, and wander into Walmart to get a bunny carrier and maybe something tasty, like cheese. The bunny carrier is actually a doggie carrier, those little things that look like oversize handbags that women carry their little dogs around in, and its BRIGHT lime green and cost about 25 usd… *sigh, but not only do I need it to take the bunny in to the vet, as the weather gets nicer, I have plans to take the bunny to parks as well, so it’ll get used.
Then to Starbucks. I made the mistake of getting a soy latte instead of just coffee, never again. I don’t know if they used real milk or if the soy milk they use is just weird, but it had THE strangest after taste, almost like someone had melted butter into my coffee… I didn’t drink most of it.
Loooong bus ride home, and here I am at 7:30pm, finishing up my day online with sore feet and a considerably lighter wallet.
Oh, AND I found out that the culture club I wanted to go to on Saturdays is CLEAR on the northwest side of the city, (I‘m on the south east) and probably 2-3 hrs ride including bus, 3 subway lines and a taxi… so, no. sad. I’ll just have to keep looking.
Mar 12, 2008 at 8:02pm
I finally made it here (Zoe’s Bistro) with a proper adapter for the computer and got online. I have pics from the bus ride to show what a transition it is from Yanjiao to here, but Photobucket is being temperamental.
The cafe is nice, clean, quiet. I had a niciose salad which was actually canned tuna, but nice greens and an excellent dressing. Got some coffee, and a fruit smoothie for dessert. Its more expensive than my normal day, but I’ve been here 5 hrs, and had a good non-Chinese feeling day, even all the writing in here is in English, so I figure I can afford to do this once a week or so, as long as I don’t go crazy.
It may also be a week between photo postings, because my internet at home doesn’t make it easy to upload, but I’ll eventually catch up.
TTFN
The internet at my apartment was enough for email and chat messengers, but it was terrible for uploading photos or streaming video. Lucky me there was a bootleg DVD shop operating out of a disused post office across the street and he kept a steady supply of English language shows and movies in stock just for us teachers, so I was not short of things to watch.
Zoe’s Bistro turned into my weekly haven of sanity during a time of negative culture shock, and I went there regularly to get good internet and feel “Western” for a few hours at a go. Nowadays I have great internet at home, and I’m not sure if it’s because Busan is a large city (where Yanjiao was tiny) or if Korean culture is easier on me than Chinese, or if I’ve just gotten used to some quintessentially Asian things that used to make me uncomfortable, but I haven’t felt the need to sit in a western style cafe since I’ve been here, and I only go to Starbucks to sample the unique seasonal drinks that aren’t on offer in other countries. It doesn’t hurt that Korea has a coffee culture that keeps me in lattes and americanos on every street corner. Good coffee always tastes like home. 😉
I’ll have to make do with a winter wonderland weekend in the snow instead. 
When I wanted art for my calling cards (left), I paid the asking price to Seth of 
costumes (paper dolls), and make their superhero names using a handy 5 point chart I made up of titles, colors, powers, animals, and gender endings. I took pictures of them and added superpower effects, and made a video of them singing and introducing their superhero alter-egos (which I unfortunately cannot share with you because of my teacher confidentiality agreement). It was fun, it was all in English, and I only had to call the Korean teacher once when some boys decided to draw penises on their superhero paper dolls(*sigh). On the last day we made chocolate cake in paper cups in the microwave and had balloon races. Overall, it was a good start to the new year.
The second half of January was my 2 week winter vacation. I decided to go to the Malay Peninsula and do a whirlwind tour of Singapore, Malaysia, and Thailand (but only the peninsular parts). I’m working my way through writing, editing and adding photos to the whole 12 day adventure which will go out to the blog and FB page soon, so I won’t try to summarize it here. Suffice it to say that the vacation may have foreshadowed more ominous things, since it too started out with so much promise and enjoyment, yet ended in a total emotional breakdown of epic proportions.
nd an inlay in two different teeth, and that the root canal would take 4-5 visits to the dentist to complete. Thus began my endless dentist torment.
year, that meant that most of my friend pool were other first years. I had thought they were going to stick around, but events conspired in such a way that meant I spent the end of February going to/throwing farewell events and helping my friend pack/get rid of stuff.
I had barely an opportunity to say hello to the new teacher at my main school and none at all to visit the second school. Despite the fact that classes would commence March 2, the new teachers avoided talking with me about lessons, or goals, or expectations. I began to get anxious, and reminded myself that newly arrived EPIK teachers wouldn’t meet their co-teachers until the new school year began, but I also had to wonder how many fresh off the boat foreign teachers would be paired with inexperienced Korean teachers. Was I getting extra newbies because of my experience or was it really random?
Then at long last, a much anticipated event which I had spotted back in January finally arrived. A glorious yoga retreat at a spa resort in the mountains! What could be a better way to ease my stress and restore my resilience than such a wondrous weekend. The day before the retreat, I woke up with a cold… sore throat, stuffed sinuses, whole 9 yards. With little sleep and much mucus, I arose early Saturday and set off anyway, hoping that some meditation and spa therapy would at least help a little. And it might have, had not absolutely everything been a crazy misrepresentation, mistake, flake, or flat out disappointment. I haven’t even decided if I want to blog about this trip because it was so awful, I can’t find a way to spin it for the “life lesson” or “silver lining” even though that was the name of the organization that presented the event.
Did I mention that during all this time, my tooth, the one that I’m getting this infernally long root canal done on, is in pain? The dentist has twice left me in pain for over a week with no medication, leaving me to struggle on through life with a dull throbbing ache in my left lower jaw and the total inability to chew anything on that side. Even now that the root canal is supposedly “over” (4 sessions later) and the process to install a crown can begin (minimum 3 sessions), my tooth hurts day and night and I have to wait to find out if it will be treated or not until my next appointment. But hey, my hair dye arrived, and it’s a smash hit.
And Holi Hai is coming, which is the Indian festival of colors where we all dance around and throw colored powder and paint on our white clothes while rocking out to Boli-rock or Indo-pop on the beach. I did it last year and it was awesome, so I was really excited to go again this year. And yet somehow, people are trying to ruin that too. Two factions of the local Indian expat community have started a turf war over the holiday and who gets to throw the party. They’re trashing each other on social media and trying to drag all of us as well as the local Korean government into their feud. I’m still planning to go, but I will have an escape plan in case they start physically fighting over the microphone or DJ station. I don’t know what they were trying to do, but all they’ve really succeeded in doing is demonstrating their total lack of Holi spirit. Festival of love, guys.
nd headed over early so I could snag a parking spot and some breakfast before the shops opened. In the States, Outlet malls are often far from the cities or even the suburban sprawl and exist as sort of concrete islands in what is otherwise quite unattractive farmland. Imagine my surprise when the GPS led me to an adorable little neighborhood, streets lined with tiny cafes, boutiques and thrift stores. Onehunga is adorable.
combined and explains why it both looks and tastes like US bacon and Canadian bacon were fused together in some kind of mad-biology experiment went right. If you are a bacon fan and you are unable to get yourself down under, I highly recommend making friends with a butcher to see if you can persuade them to sell you some of this stuff.
There were of course posters of the Narnia movies and copies of the books around the place, and some artwork on the walls by local artists. It wasn’t until my meal was finished and I went to find the restroom that I stumbled upon the most Narnian feature of the cafe. The back seating area (and restrooms) were through a hallway that had been hung on either side with fur coats so that you had to push past them in order to enter. It was very subtle, because even though I had seen things hanging in the hallway, I had not really realized what it was until I felt the fur on my hands as I pushed my way through to the other room. The strange and sudden realization that the otherwise very ordinary cafe had worked in a hidden-in-plain-sight magic wardrobe made my whole breakfast even better.
While I was in Rotorua, I had planned to take a lazy walk around the Saturday Market and Kuirau Park (a free park that has geothermal activity). The market was a cute little local flea market kind of affair with folks selling used clothes and books, antique jewelry and dishes, and a whole lotta food stalls selling Kiwi and Maori foods. I had been hoping for more handmade goods, but it was still fun to wander around and I picked up my souvenir gifts there from the one handmade stand I found: a lady who made skin balm from the native 
Kuirau park is interesting. It’s got lots of mud pools and a hot lake that are all gated off to keep kids or drunks from wandering into them. It also has public foot baths using the thermal waters so people can come by and have a nice warm foot soak. I suspect the park is nicer in any season besides winter because there are a lot of trees and flowerbeds as well that were bare, and what looked like fountains that were turned off for the season. However, it’s free, so I do recommend at least stopping by if you’re in Rotorua, especially if you’re thinking of doing other geothermal parks. Several other blogs I read recommended this as an alternative to Hell’s Gate unless the mud bath is on your bucket list.
Wai means “water” and tapu means “sacred”. This area is known in Maori as the sacred waters. In addition to the 
dazzling body of water is the one you see on all the websites, brochures and billboards for Waiotapu because it’s deep blue water and vivid orange shoreline are such a visually striking image. Combine that with the meandering edge of the built up lip of the lake and you are just left gaping at the majesty and variety of nature. I also discovered the reason it’s called Champagne. There are teeny weeny bubbles effervescing around the pool giving it the distinct appearance of champagne in a wide glass sending a constant stream of tiny bubbles out into the world. The extreme heat of the pool combined with the cool late winter air meant that there were great plumes of steam rising up from the water and obscuring the far shore. It made for a dramatic landscape, but I did get dosed with some intensely sulfur smelling fumes when the wind shifted. Other than that, the park didn’t have much of an odor.
The Champagne pool may be the star of the park, but it’s not the last surprise on the trail. After passing by a few more craters, you reach the final stop, “The Devil’s Bath”, which is a deep sided pool of the most florescent neon toxic waste movie effect from the 1980s colored water you will ever see. I’m sure you’re looking at the photos going “no way”, but yes way, Ted. A few more sight seers came around the corner while I was staring at it and were equally blown away. My best guess for what causes the crazy green shade? Bacteria, chlorophyll loving bacteria. Weather the colors of Waiotapu come from animal, mineral or vegetable, it’s a great way to spend a few hours in between hot springs. Check out the 
bigger difference than I had anticipated. I even saw an advertisement for a horse exerciser position that offered room/board/caving and a little cash, clearly intended to attract backpackers to the job. The hostel was walking distance from the main tour company that offered trips into the caves, but not much else. 
The only constellation I’d heard of for the southern hemisphere was the Southern Cross, featured on the NZ flag. I looked for it, but at the time, I wasn’t totally sure if what I saw was the constellation or my wishful thinking. After all, how many patches of 4 stars can look like a cross if you’re trying to find one? I stayed outside until my fingers got numb, soaking in the interstellar beauty and realizing once more, NZ had granted my wish. Before I came, I thought about how much I was looking forward to seeing the night sky from the south, yet until that moment, every night I’d been outside there had been either cloud cover or a bright full moon, making the stars invisible. Yet here on my last night in the bush, the night sky collaborated to put on just one more show.
The marrow bone was a huge bone, cut in half longways and sprinkled with a crust of herbs and sharp white cheese (perhaps a parm or asiago). If you’ve never had bone marrow, and are not a vegetarian, I would like to recommend it. It’s basically like meat butter, which is to say it’s rich rich rich like the best butter you can imagine but instead of tasting like cream, it tastes like the meat of the animal from whence it came. You will not ever have a cut of meat, however well marbled, that is as rich and decadent as bone marrow. As I scooped the marrow from the bone and spread it on the toast, I wondered briefly if I’d made a mistake in ordering so much food when the first dish was so intense.
The duck rested atop some caramelized onions and roasted potatoes which were themselves drowned in the heavenly sweet and spiced sauce. Atop the duck rested the candied and stewed orange slice and a small tomato, the sweet and tart qualities of which were complimentary to the sauce. At first glance I thought it was a version of orange duck, but then as the spices reached my nose and soon my tongue, Christmas exploded inside my head.
Finally, I considered myself conquered and had to leave some of the veggies behind to save space for my tarte tartin. This is a sort of upsidedown caramelized apple pie with ice cream on top. It was wonderfully soft and well flavored without being overly sweet. The caramelization left a light and pleasant bitterness, and the apples themselves brought a bit of tartness. In the end, I couldn’t manage more than a few bites and felt horribly guilty for letting such a culinary treasure go to waste. I apologized to the waiter, trying to assure him the tarte’s taste was not to blame for so much of it being left behind. I finished off the evening with a digestive (because boy did I need one by then) of green Chartreuse which is a fabulous herbal infusion made by French monks that is basically like Absinthe’s grown up, more erudite older brother.
e milky light caused by dark dust in the way that the Maori people identified as a type of constellation by negative space rather than connecting the dots. It’s an emu.She also taught me how to find the Southern Cross and use it and the Pointers to find due South. It’s not quite as convenient as having Polaris, but it was fun to see it in action.
You can’t go anywhere in the US without being on some tribe’s ancestral land, though. I learned about the tribes as we moved around the country. I learned their words in each new place because white settlers used the names the Natives gave to things long after the people were relegated to reservations, forced to wear western clothes, speak English and go to church. And in the few places where they are reclaiming their place, they are still only known for 2 things: casinos and tourist attractions. Casinos because crazy sovereign land rights make gambling legal on reservations. These buildings are decked out in the tackiest stereotypes of Native imagery with wooden carved Indians in giant feather headdresses adorning the entryways and sacred patterns hanging on the walls, using the images of their culture to draw in suckers. Only slightly less crass are the informational tourism spots where descendants of colonialists can come and see an authentic teepee or wigwam or rain dance. Sometimes they even sell sweat lodge experiences. And as much as I want to learn about the people and the culture, because that is maybe my greatest passion in this life, it feels cheap and tawdry whenever I see these displays outside of museums. This is not to say they shouldn’t live their own culture, but there is a difference between living your lifestyle and putting on a show.
Maori Colonization: The explorer Kupe took a really big boat and ventured across the ocean, leaving his home in search of new land. It’s believed that colonization of NZ from Polynesia was deliberate and slow after this. It took several hundred years of ocean faring boats going back and forth bringing more and more Maori. In fact, the seven main tribes now identify by which boat (waka) their ancestors arrived on. For those who have been wondering about why I keep using other names to refer to NZ, Kupe named the land Aotearoa which roughly translates to “land of the long white cloud”. There are a few legends on why, but no consensus. The seven waka hourua (ocean going boats) and later the seven tribes, are called Tainui, Te Arawa, Matatua, Kurahaupo, Tokomaru, Aotea and Takitimu.
The Treaty of Waitangi was basically an agreement the Maori signed with the British crown stating that New Zealand was under British sovereignty, but that the Chiefs and tribes would keep their own land (selling only to British settlers, no filthy French or Dutch here, please), and that the Maori would have 
Modern Maori: Are there arguments about land rights, water rights, fishing and hunting rights… and every other aspect of sovereignty? Of course, but it’s much more like an argument between people of (nearly) equal footing than in the US where we’re still ignoring the fact that our reservations don’t have safe drinking water or can’t fish their own streams/ 
Armed with a better understanding of the history and a strong desire to learn more, I booked myself a table at the 
We were greeted at the entrance by a woman in traditional dress and (makeup) tattoo with the Maori greeting “Kia Ora” (
Next we broke into smaller groups and bundled outside to see some of the village. Our group first visited the boat displayed by the front gate. Our guide explained to us about the word “waka” (boat) and the three most common types of waka for daily use (fishing and transporting goods), for war, and for long ocean journeys. She pointed out to us the way in which this particular waka was made using planks and that was how we could tell it was a replica and not a traditionally made waka. In fact it was the prop from the movie 
He taught them how to make the traditional war face which involves opening one’s eyes as wide as possible, sticking out the tongue toward the chin and doing an aggressive war cry. One of the men took this task quite seriously, doing his best to make an intimidating face and sound as he was shown, buy the other (and younger) was too cool for school and sadly sought audience attention by laughing at the process and doing a poor imitation of the war face, perhaps unwilling to look foolish, but in the end failing. We were asked to vote by applause and the man who went all out won by a landslide, which was nice, because I felt like he would at least take his duties as our chief for the night seriously and not treat it like some kind of opportunity for laughs.
After the outdoor display, we headed into the performance hall. It was somewhere during this time that I started getting flashbacks to my childhood wild west/cowboys and Indians shows. The stage was set up to look like a Maori village, and once again, the guide was quite clear that it was a set and not real. The performance started with singing and dancing, then the cheif came out and gave a speech in Maori that of course none of us understood. While all the Maori performers were wearing traditional costumes, it struck me at once how different the cheif’s clothing was, especially the white fur cloak he wore. New Zealand has only one native land mammal, which is the bat, so where did this fur come from? It turns out that the Maori brought dogs, kuri, with them from Polynesia. The dogs were rare and their fur was prized as one of the elite materials for chieftain cloaks (along with fur seal skin), and because white was a common kuri coloring, I expect this was meant to represent a white kuri skin cloak and was quite prestigious indeed. 
After the sung entrance and the chief’s introductions, they introduced traditional Maori instruments of which there are two main kinds: melodic and percussive. Melodic instruments (rangi) include flutes made from wood or bone, gourd instruments that are blown into or filled with seeds and shaken, and trumpet instruments made from shells. These are considered the domain of the Sky Father but each group and specific instrument has it’s own god/goddess or spirit associated with it. Percussive instruments (drums, sticks, poi -the white flaxen balls on strings, and a type of disc on a cord) are considered the heartbeat of the Earth Mother.
Gallivantrix 