Snark on the Side

(*Jekyll & Hyde moment!)

With just under a week of homecoming under my belt, I guess it’s that time to look back, have an “aha!” moment, and otherwise generally reflect on my trip. (Oh, PDP, you have me well-trained, don’t you?)

Well, here goes.

On July 5, I wrote,

I think today for the first time, it hit me that I’ll be traveling to New Zealand on a research grant in just over two weeks.

All of a sudden, “plenty of time” means very little. The stack of books I was supposed to have read seems very large. And my relative ability to speak coherently to individuals in an informal interview setting seems extraordinarily low.

Nonetheless, I will be departing in 15 days. Ergo, the map-examining, timetable-plotting, and various document-copying becomes as rampant as slouching teenagers in the mall in July.

Unfortunately for my sanity, the map-examining, timetable-plotting, and various document-copying actually hit fifth gear not on July 5, but on July 19. However, by July 20 I was packed and “ready” to go.

Over the course of the next three weeks, I traveled, visited museums, talked to professors, watched performances, and looked at diaries from 1880, director’s notes from 1940, and handwritten lists of theatre performances seen over a twenty-year period in the late 1800s, among dozens of other things.

Highlights of the trip:

-Walking all over Auckland, Hamilton, Wellington, (Picton, Christchurch) and Dunedin. The occasional chocolate boutique or bakery didn’t hurt.
-Seeing Romeo & Juliet twice in Auckland.
-Good conversations with my roommates in hostels and other people I met through my research and wanderings.
-Botanic gardens: Hamilton and Dunedin.
-Waterfronts: Auckland and Wellington.
-Favorite archives: a man’s painstaking records of his every theatrical experience in handwriting that would make Thumbelina proud; an honorary scroll presented to Allan Wilkie after one of his tours in Dunedin.
-Gradually getting a better sense of my research interests through successive attempts to explain them to other people.

And yes, coming home and seeing friends and family(!!!!), dancing again(!!), playing frisbee, not living out of a suitcase, and having free Internet.

It was good. 🙂 Thanks for following along.

Cheers!

Well folks, after a long-and-short three weeks, I’m back in the U.S. and feeling more than a little jet-lagged and woozy after right about 30 hours in transit.

Operation stay-awake-until-a-normal-bedtime is now in effect.

But along the way, I’ve made some interesting discoveries about the wandering life, including, not least, some words that take on a very particular meaning in the context of international travel.

With no (t much) further ado, I give you,

The Travel(l)er’s Abridged Dictionary

Foreboding: (c.f. urgency). Polishing off a second cup of water, so you can hand the plastic cup to the flight attendant along with your empty coffee cup, at the precise instant that the captain turns on the seat belt sign and the PA system crackles on: “The captain has announced that we may be experiencing some pockets of turbulence for the next hour, so we request all passengers to remain in your seats, with your seat belts securely fastened, until the captain signals that it is safe to move about the cabin.”

Willpower: (c.f. foreboding, with the addition of turbulence.)

Urgency: A repeated craning of the neck at an angle so as to see around or between the adjacent seats with the purpose of monitoring the progress of a food or beverage cart which, escorted by flight attendants, is moving at a dilatory pace down the aisle, effectively barring passage to the small neon sign at the other end of the cabin. (Closely related to foreboding, but without the seat belt sign or turbulence).

Disgruntlement: Opening the in-flight magazine to page 64 and seeing the tell-tale blue ink marks signifying that half of the Sudoku puzzle has already been completed–in pen–with an obvious logical error in the first box alone, because the former tenant of the seat mistakenly placed a 2 in the same row as a helpfully placed, pre-printed 2.

Obsolete: Reading in the in-flight magazine that the colors Mulberry and Yellow Green have long since been retired from Crayola crayons, and having a vivid memory of the triumphant discovery that what distinguished Yellow Green from Green Yellow was that Y-G was predominantly green, whereas G-Y was fundamentally yellow, based on the grammatical proposition that the first term in each example serves an adjectival (i.e. supplemental or secondary) function, which could be verified by adding the suffix “ish” to the first term. (Closely linked to trivial.)

Asymmetry: A specific physical condition applicable to a) the ratio of elongation and compression of the left and right sides of the neck, resulting from an attempt to fill in the space between the left (or right) ear and the shoulder with an insufficiently stuffed piece of scratchy fabric; and b) the degree of compression in the left or right shoulder and the muscles of the neck that occurs during an attempt to share evenly four armrests between six arms.

…and the additional possibilities are endless. What am I forgetting?

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*Couldn’t resist. 😛

So last time I rode the ferry from Wellington to Picton, and vice versa, picture pristine, rippling water. Slightly hazy blue sky. A hilly harbor with small houses ranged over the slopes and a small, sheltered town with tall sail boats all along the forest-edged waterfront.

Today was a little bit different.

2:05 p.m.
Ferry exits dock at Wellington Harbour. Sailboats. Crisp, clean wind. Rippling water. Salt spray. Check.

2:20 p.m.
Ferry exits Wellington Harbour to cross the Strait. Wind picks up. Waves pick up boat. Jen’s stomach registers protest. Onset of seasickness.

2:30 p.m.
Attendant from Interislander: “Ma’am? Are you all right? You should probably move to the back of the craft. You’ll feel it less.”
Jen: mute, green-faced, climbs to her feet and half-walks to the back lounge, breaking into a run to counteract the sudden vanishing of floor beneath her feet when the boat rolls.

Two hours of status quo with varying levels of misery. Note to self, trying to breathe with the waves (up–in, down–out) is only marginally and psychologically helpful.

4:20 p.m.
Jen realizes that she can now sit up without concentrating on not vomiting. Boat has entered the Marlborough Sounds and is now predominantly vertical. So is Jen. Fresh air on upper decks, green hue begins to fade. Commence appreciation of the aforementioned beautiful sights of the ferry trip.

5:15 p.m.
Disembark in Picton, shiftily avoiding sympathetic looks from the several passengers who witnessed ignominious flight from the front lounge.

The end. Of ferry rides. For Jen. Or other activities on open water. Without Dramamine. For a long time. Probably.

Haha.

(Made up for largely by a lovely, cozy, carpeted hostel in Picton, with a fire. And tea. And free chocolate pudding. Which my stomach might actually accept.)

Well, I have to say this is the first–and probably the last–time I’ll have had seven different men in my bedroom over a period of seven nights. Ah, hostels, how do I love thee? =P

Research “finished.” Museum…museumed. Rugby match cheered. And down to the wire for my trip. In some ways it’s gone by very quickly, but at moments it has moved quite slowly. Although it confirms my geekiness beyond the shadow of a doubt, I’ve really enjoyed browsing the archives more than I thought I would. However…

I’m excited to see some old haunts on the South Island. Getting ready to freeze also. Yay!

Wind.

Cold rain.

More wind.

Yep, welcome to Wellington. They don’t call it the Windy City for nothing.

After a lazy weekend of reading, sitting and watching the rain, and watching new friends dance tango at a local pub, I started my research at the national library today.

I was prepared for a new round of getting lost in the city, trying to maneuver through library registrations and request forms, and making plans for the next (and final) few rounds of interviews. Despite my fears, though, the research librarians were very helpful, and I spent a long afternoon in a gorgeous, airy reading room browsing through 19th century diaries and handwritten drafts of lectures on New Zealand theatre in the 1940s.

Let’s face it: I have no idea what the collective state of this project will be when I finally get around to sorting and typing up my handwritten (gulp!) notes. Lots of fascinating moments and sketches, but not looking much like a five-act play at this point; however, for the moment, I’m just enjoying the process.

Cheers to a non-rainy day, although spending it inside felt a little bit like cheating.

More tomorrow!

To my dear (now-ex) roommates,

Thank you for apologizing when you turned on the lights at midnight and entered en masse. No thanks for subsequently continuing to party for another hour.

Thank you for not “waking me up” to show me the pictures in your porn magazine. No thanks for narrating the pictures in a loud voice.

Thank you for not spilling vodka on my bag and leaving the room before lighting your cigarettes. No thanks for sitting on my weet-bix (cereal) box.

I’m honored that you think of me as a “whole/old” person. On the whole, shall we say, it was a pleasure knowing you.

Cheers,

Jen

After a great two and a half days in Hamilton visiting classes and talking to professors, students, and tutors at Waikato, I’m back in Auckland for one more night (in a definite partyers hostel) before heading south.

I think my public transportation usage is permanently cursed.

Allow me to explain.

At least one sick person within a 3-seat radius on all flights and buses since arrival. At least one crying child within a similar, if not smaller radius. And as of today, welcome to the GGSGG zone, also known as the gum-popping, giggling, shrieking, gossiping girls region of the bus. We are talking about some serious vocal chord endurance on their part.

Nonetheless.

Auckland, congratulations on (excepting tonight) redeeming yourself substantially. You and your rainy-misty-cloudy-hot-sunny-cold-windy-ness are all right in my book.

Cheers.

Yesterday’s lesson: If I ever propose visiting New Zealand without an umbrella again, someone stop me. (Sub-lesson: puddles form in low places on the street. Sub-sub-lesson: puddles are bodies of water that, when stepped in, cause dampness in denim and canvas. Sub-to-the-third-power-lesson: jeans take a lot longer to dry in cold weather.)

After a full day’s research at the library, I saw a performance of Romeo and Juliet last night. Lots of cool thoughts to sort through, including why there had to be large men in gold short-shorts and a night club scene, but overall, an interesting show.

Friar Lawrence was by far my favorite character, with a much stronger emotional draw than I’ve seen before, which in part made up for Romeo’s excessively arm-y acting and consequentially weak emotional connection.

Wandered around the city today, as the weather was gorgeous. Lots of pictures, museums, friendly research librarians, a chocolate boutique, and 4 hours of walking later, and I’m about ready to crash.

Cheers!

P.S. Mission “find a good fish ‘n’ chips spot” still incomplete.
P.P.S. Mission “redeem Auckland” a success thus far!