Ah, so my lunch get-together on Monday was at Alimento. It just wasn’t in the phone book apparently. I hope to get better at the accent soon, but I still struggle a little bit. The vowels are pronounced a little differently; “flatter” according to one guide book. Apparently you can tell by vowel pronunciation the difference between an Australian and a New Zealander. I was trying to discern this while listening to a conversation between an Aussie and a Kiwi yesterday, but any difference was too subtle for my thick skull, apparently.
Other little things fool me, too. Today, out grocery shopping (surprise), I was asked, as I’ve been asked several times “FlyBuys?” This is a nationally used discount program, where you accumulate points based on your purchases. So I’ve been asked this a dozen times, but I always stop, stand dumbly, slowly process, and respond after a several second delay. However, the guy at the gas station gave me an application for the program, so now maybe I can break out my card like a true Kiwi.
Another example of my occasional confusion… I asked to purchase a reusable bag at the grocery store. The clerk said yes, and then she asked for identification. I got out my Iowa driver’s license while thinking, “Did I misspeak? I just want to buy a bag. Why do they need ID? Did I ask for a lotto ticket on accident or something?” Of course the clerk was unsure what to do with my Iowa license and so flagged a manager down. The manager took one look at me and said, “Oh, she’s ok,” with a fair amount of confidence. That made me feel good that I must look reputable. It was then that I realized the clerk had just scanned my 6-pack of Tui, an NZ beer, and was trying to id me for that. Now the drinking age over here is 18, so I’m not sure what her concern was. That also explained the utter certainty the manager displayed upon looking at me. And I thought she must think me trustworthy – instead she just thought me plenty old!
While I’m thinking of it, I wanted to just ask what the US is showing on TV for the Summer Games. We’ve watched a little the past few nights, and I don’t know if it is just the selections of NZOne TV, but I feel like I am watching some atypical events. You know, it’s been four years, so maybe I’ve forgotten, but so far we’ve caught sculling, sailing, canoeing, kayaking, badminton, and table tennis. Maybe the other stuff just isn’t on yet or maybe the time zone thing is off or perhaps these are the events that Kiwis just get really pumped about. Hmmm…I could grow to love watching professional table tennis!
Friday, August 1, 2008
The weekend (Monday)
Now that we are a little more settled, there are those pantry-type items that you always have on hand that I needed to buy. I was thinking things like sugar, flour, etc. Instead of buying a whole collection, I’ve decided to buy these items as the need arose. There are several small stores, dairies or superettes, within walking distance, and most of these seem to have the basics in addition to convenience foods. So, if I hadn’t planned ahead, I can always run out quickly. I’ve also been trying to decide where to buy groceries. There is a butcher and a bulk foods store about ½ a block away, a grocery store about 25 minutes walk away (too far to go, I’ve decided), and just beyond the grocery store, a vege/fruit stand and a seafood store.
I’m not used to stopping several places for groceries, but I thought it would be nice to check out the smaller stores and try to shop more locally (as opposed to the chain grocery) if possible.
So I started at Bin Inn. They have some pre-packaged products, but most of their items are in, you guessed it, large bins. A big selection of cereals, granola, muesli, dried fruits; every sort of sugar, flour, yeast you can think of; cooking oils (canola, olive, sunflower, vegetable, etc); even cleaning supplies. Plus, since you are choosing the amount, I didn’t have to get a large amount of some things I didn’t think I’d need a lot of.
I then headed to Col’s Butchery. One thing Cory pointed out last week at the grocery store is that they don’t seem to have turkey. They do have a lot of cuts of lamb, a little more offal than I’m used to, and plenty of beef, pork, and chicken, though. Anyway, I bought some lamb from the very amused young clerk. (I don’t know what lamb forequarter looks like!)
I had been to the library last week and gotten some (not-large-print) NZ cookbooks and have been trying out some recipes. So far they’ve all been a hit, but then Cory is so surprised to see me cooking routinely that he probably doesn’t want to do anything that might sound ungrateful. So the lamb was for a lemon, garlic, and lamb stew. I haven’t made it yet, so I’ll keep you posted. The kumara, by the way, was great; but disappointingly, I think kumara is just another name for sweet potato, not a different vegetable. I’ve also made potato, feta, and smoked salmon pizza, pan-fried fish with braised vegetables, and lemon ricotta hotcakes. All have been pretty good.
After the butchers, I decided to head to the other stores. Both Mt. Fresh and Deli-ca-sea are just a block from the grocery store, so I figured whatever was still on my list after those two could be picked up at the grocery store.
I don’t know enough about sea food and fish to make any educated comments, but there selection seemed really good – more food that I know what to do with. (Squid? I now know how to clean out the “tubes.” “Will I?” is another question.) I got some fish fillets and smoked salmon. Helpfully they also have seafood handling tips and recipes.
Mt. Fresh had a great selection of fruits and vegetables. They are in, essentially, a shack of corrugated metal, so it felt a little bit like shopping at one of Muscatine’s melon stands. Even without the good produce, I’d be back for the nostalgia alone.
Enough about groceries – fascinating only to me probably…
Saturday we headed down to Rotorua again. There is a lot happening in this area, and we didn’t get to see all that we wanted to see last weekend. We didn’t this weekend either, but, luckily, it is a short drive and a good day-trip. We wandered their downtown area a little bit; Cory is on a quest for art galleries. Most seem to be closed up until summer, when I guess the area becomes inundated with tourists. The local paper here in the Bay referred to it snidely as “Rotovegas.” Not exactly a Vegas feel, but I get what they are driving at. We checked out the Rotorua museum; if you remember this area has a lot of thermal activity, so the smell of sulfur is on the air and therapeutic bathing was once the rage. The museum was in the old bath house, which was quite a hot spot even so many years ago.
After that, we thought we’d try finding an area called Kerosene Creek. It is a stream that is very warm and locals do their own bit of “bathing” in it. After some driving around, we did find the creek. We also ran into one of Cory’s co-workers, which was sort of amazing, as we know about a dozen people in all of NZ. He had brought his kids down for a swim. The area had actually been pretty recently deforested, except for a strip surrounding Kerosene Creek. We knew that nearby was another pool, where a cool water stream and a hot water stream mix, so we went to find that area.
This area was very cool. You have to sort of know about the area, as there are no signs on the nearby roads. But you park your car along this tiny road and wander down a dirt path between the trees; as the two small streams converge, there is a small, shallow area, where waters from both mix. It was late afternoon and the sun was setting; the temperature was perfect. It was pretty amazing.
We have these salt water pools in Maunganui, at the base of the mountain, that we haven’t even checked out yet. But they are in an actual pool setting, so you lose some of the stunning ambiance of this pool. But, someday soon, we will.
Speaking of the Mount, we walked to the summit on Sunday. We packed a small lunch and, after a somewhat arduous climb for someone who is sadly out of shape, ate lunch looking over the ocean. Cory posted some pictures from the summit – the view is pretty great. The paths up are really popular; there were tons of people out. Sadly, small children, 50 year olds, even those in heeled boots carrying purses, all seemed to be trudging up with less effort than me. Appalling, really.
Today, Monday, I am meeting one of Cory’s co-workers’ wives for lunch. She called last night and told me the name of the restaurant. I’ve written down “Elemental, Alimento, Elemento???” She gave me directions, so I do know where I’m heading, down the specific block, at least, but I was hoping to get a better fix on the name. I was sure I’d be able to find it in the phone book, but have had no such luck. So I’m leaving early to try to locate this mysterious spot. Any guesses???
I’m not used to stopping several places for groceries, but I thought it would be nice to check out the smaller stores and try to shop more locally (as opposed to the chain grocery) if possible.
So I started at Bin Inn. They have some pre-packaged products, but most of their items are in, you guessed it, large bins. A big selection of cereals, granola, muesli, dried fruits; every sort of sugar, flour, yeast you can think of; cooking oils (canola, olive, sunflower, vegetable, etc); even cleaning supplies. Plus, since you are choosing the amount, I didn’t have to get a large amount of some things I didn’t think I’d need a lot of.
I then headed to Col’s Butchery. One thing Cory pointed out last week at the grocery store is that they don’t seem to have turkey. They do have a lot of cuts of lamb, a little more offal than I’m used to, and plenty of beef, pork, and chicken, though. Anyway, I bought some lamb from the very amused young clerk. (I don’t know what lamb forequarter looks like!)
I had been to the library last week and gotten some (not-large-print) NZ cookbooks and have been trying out some recipes. So far they’ve all been a hit, but then Cory is so surprised to see me cooking routinely that he probably doesn’t want to do anything that might sound ungrateful. So the lamb was for a lemon, garlic, and lamb stew. I haven’t made it yet, so I’ll keep you posted. The kumara, by the way, was great; but disappointingly, I think kumara is just another name for sweet potato, not a different vegetable. I’ve also made potato, feta, and smoked salmon pizza, pan-fried fish with braised vegetables, and lemon ricotta hotcakes. All have been pretty good.
After the butchers, I decided to head to the other stores. Both Mt. Fresh and Deli-ca-sea are just a block from the grocery store, so I figured whatever was still on my list after those two could be picked up at the grocery store.
I don’t know enough about sea food and fish to make any educated comments, but there selection seemed really good – more food that I know what to do with. (Squid? I now know how to clean out the “tubes.” “Will I?” is another question.) I got some fish fillets and smoked salmon. Helpfully they also have seafood handling tips and recipes.
Mt. Fresh had a great selection of fruits and vegetables. They are in, essentially, a shack of corrugated metal, so it felt a little bit like shopping at one of Muscatine’s melon stands. Even without the good produce, I’d be back for the nostalgia alone.
Enough about groceries – fascinating only to me probably…
Saturday we headed down to Rotorua again. There is a lot happening in this area, and we didn’t get to see all that we wanted to see last weekend. We didn’t this weekend either, but, luckily, it is a short drive and a good day-trip. We wandered their downtown area a little bit; Cory is on a quest for art galleries. Most seem to be closed up until summer, when I guess the area becomes inundated with tourists. The local paper here in the Bay referred to it snidely as “Rotovegas.” Not exactly a Vegas feel, but I get what they are driving at. We checked out the Rotorua museum; if you remember this area has a lot of thermal activity, so the smell of sulfur is on the air and therapeutic bathing was once the rage. The museum was in the old bath house, which was quite a hot spot even so many years ago.
After that, we thought we’d try finding an area called Kerosene Creek. It is a stream that is very warm and locals do their own bit of “bathing” in it. After some driving around, we did find the creek. We also ran into one of Cory’s co-workers, which was sort of amazing, as we know about a dozen people in all of NZ. He had brought his kids down for a swim. The area had actually been pretty recently deforested, except for a strip surrounding Kerosene Creek. We knew that nearby was another pool, where a cool water stream and a hot water stream mix, so we went to find that area.
This area was very cool. You have to sort of know about the area, as there are no signs on the nearby roads. But you park your car along this tiny road and wander down a dirt path between the trees; as the two small streams converge, there is a small, shallow area, where waters from both mix. It was late afternoon and the sun was setting; the temperature was perfect. It was pretty amazing.
We have these salt water pools in Maunganui, at the base of the mountain, that we haven’t even checked out yet. But they are in an actual pool setting, so you lose some of the stunning ambiance of this pool. But, someday soon, we will.
Speaking of the Mount, we walked to the summit on Sunday. We packed a small lunch and, after a somewhat arduous climb for someone who is sadly out of shape, ate lunch looking over the ocean. Cory posted some pictures from the summit – the view is pretty great. The paths up are really popular; there were tons of people out. Sadly, small children, 50 year olds, even those in heeled boots carrying purses, all seemed to be trudging up with less effort than me. Appalling, really.
Today, Monday, I am meeting one of Cory’s co-workers’ wives for lunch. She called last night and told me the name of the restaurant. I’ve written down “Elemental, Alimento, Elemento???” She gave me directions, so I do know where I’m heading, down the specific block, at least, but I was hoping to get a better fix on the name. I was sure I’d be able to find it in the phone book, but have had no such luck. So I’m leaving early to try to locate this mysterious spot. Any guesses???
There’s no place like home… (Thursday)
Ahhh… We have a permanent-for-a-year apartment. We are going to stay where we’ve been for this past week and a half.
What a relief to have a permanent address. Now, of course, I’ll have to memorize it (and the phone number), which could take some doing. I’ve seen the address written about three different ways and I’m not sure what all is included. Often instead of a house/building number, addresses will just be listed as “Crn of blank and blank street”. I also have yet to figure out if I need to include the region, which I think is Tauranga, on the postal address. And then there’s the four-digit zip-like code, which I haven’t included on anything I’ve filled out! I guess it probably doesn’t matter much, as our mail has gotten to us so far.
We’d spoken last week with Lindy, the manager here, after she’d asked what our long-term plans were. We had none, of course, so were pleased to when she mentioned that she had several places available depending on our budget. She returned from a holiday yesterday, said that she’d talked to the owner of our current apartment, and that he would be willing to let us have the place for the year. I was ecstatic; I’d been unconsciously settling in (though I had not unpacked a bag yet) – thinking of little things I’d need, measuring the distances of routine trips, envisioning the little deck in the summer time, etc – since we’d gotten here.
With that settled, I dragged the luggage into the living room and unpacked fully. I gave Cory, without his consent, actually, the dresser in the spare bedroom and took the one in our bedroom for myself. Hey, he gets up early and I don’t want him waking me up! He swears he doesn’t mind and even said that it makes sense. He spoils me terribly.
It is odd to unpack all your belongings in about 10 minutes and see that they don’t cover the living room floor. That is an overly-dramatic statement, as we have a 10x10 storage unit back in Coralville crammed to it’s gills with the rest of our belongings. But it was odd to unpack and “move-in” so quickly. But, still, a very good feeling…
I picked Cory up last night and told him it was left-overs or out-to-eat (which really just delays and extends the left-overs situation), so he picked out-to-eat. We went to a Mediterranean place; it was great food and a fun little café. Here’s what we haven’t gotten figured out yet…how one sits/orders over here. Sometimes, you walk directly to the counter, order, pay, and then sit wherever. Other times, you are seated, handed a menu, and then go to the counter to order/pay. One other time, we were seated, handed, a menu, and then a waitress came to take our order; we then paid at the counter at the end of the meal. I haven’t been able to discriminate upon entering what appropriate action is to be taken. So I usually just walk inside the door and stand, dumbly, until someone acknowledges me and comes to my aid. Surely there is some sort of “code” to follow, but I have no idea what it might be.
So today, after feeling satiated by my bout of unpacking and a good meal, I headed out to acquire some more “stuff” for our new home. The list wasn’t long, but I wasn’t really sure where to find everything and spend a fair amount of time pleasantly wandering around. It may be that I am very sensitive to it right now, but it seems that everyone is remarkably pleasant. Even when I do things “wrong”, like try to grab the debit card machine (I can’t tell when I am supposed to swipe my card and when they need to swipe my card for me), or take down a display item, or talk quietly to myself.
This talking to myself is not a new phenomenon. People joke about how that is okay, as long as you don’t answer yourself. Come on. I’m always carrying on a conversation; often it is out loud. It’s fine. I mean, I’m not yelling or using different voices (yet). At times I blame it on being a special education teacher; when the kiddos can’t always respond, you’ve got to keep the conversation going somehow! The reality is that I would probably do it anyway.
So, a frequent exchange I have with my self goes something like this, “Look right, then left. Right, look right.” At school, when I’m teaching kids to safely cross streets, I use similar wording; the kids know it so well eventually they mumble along with me. “Look left, look right. Is it safe to cross? Cross quickly.” I haven’t had to go this extended version, but, after a helpful warning from a friend who’d spent time in London, looking right has saved my behind more than once all ready.
Actually, I have to give Nikki full credit here. Cory and I were at a get-together and were getting ready to head out. As we were leaving for New Zealand shortly, as we were saying our goodbyes, Nikki offered the helpful reminder to always “look left”. She mentioned that she’d been nearly run over by a dozen taxis as she stepped out into traffic without looking left first. Old American habits die hard.
As we left and were making our way down the block, I was mulling her advice over in my head. “Look left? Hmm…” In that instant, the door to the home we’d been at burst open, Nikki stepped out into the evening, dramatically backlit by the glow of the house, and yelled, “Look RIGHT! I mean look right!” I have not mistaken this yet, thanks to Nikki. “Look right!” reverberates in my head.
What a relief to have a permanent address. Now, of course, I’ll have to memorize it (and the phone number), which could take some doing. I’ve seen the address written about three different ways and I’m not sure what all is included. Often instead of a house/building number, addresses will just be listed as “Crn of blank and blank street”. I also have yet to figure out if I need to include the region, which I think is Tauranga, on the postal address. And then there’s the four-digit zip-like code, which I haven’t included on anything I’ve filled out! I guess it probably doesn’t matter much, as our mail has gotten to us so far.
We’d spoken last week with Lindy, the manager here, after she’d asked what our long-term plans were. We had none, of course, so were pleased to when she mentioned that she had several places available depending on our budget. She returned from a holiday yesterday, said that she’d talked to the owner of our current apartment, and that he would be willing to let us have the place for the year. I was ecstatic; I’d been unconsciously settling in (though I had not unpacked a bag yet) – thinking of little things I’d need, measuring the distances of routine trips, envisioning the little deck in the summer time, etc – since we’d gotten here.
With that settled, I dragged the luggage into the living room and unpacked fully. I gave Cory, without his consent, actually, the dresser in the spare bedroom and took the one in our bedroom for myself. Hey, he gets up early and I don’t want him waking me up! He swears he doesn’t mind and even said that it makes sense. He spoils me terribly.
It is odd to unpack all your belongings in about 10 minutes and see that they don’t cover the living room floor. That is an overly-dramatic statement, as we have a 10x10 storage unit back in Coralville crammed to it’s gills with the rest of our belongings. But it was odd to unpack and “move-in” so quickly. But, still, a very good feeling…
I picked Cory up last night and told him it was left-overs or out-to-eat (which really just delays and extends the left-overs situation), so he picked out-to-eat. We went to a Mediterranean place; it was great food and a fun little café. Here’s what we haven’t gotten figured out yet…how one sits/orders over here. Sometimes, you walk directly to the counter, order, pay, and then sit wherever. Other times, you are seated, handed a menu, and then go to the counter to order/pay. One other time, we were seated, handed, a menu, and then a waitress came to take our order; we then paid at the counter at the end of the meal. I haven’t been able to discriminate upon entering what appropriate action is to be taken. So I usually just walk inside the door and stand, dumbly, until someone acknowledges me and comes to my aid. Surely there is some sort of “code” to follow, but I have no idea what it might be.
So today, after feeling satiated by my bout of unpacking and a good meal, I headed out to acquire some more “stuff” for our new home. The list wasn’t long, but I wasn’t really sure where to find everything and spend a fair amount of time pleasantly wandering around. It may be that I am very sensitive to it right now, but it seems that everyone is remarkably pleasant. Even when I do things “wrong”, like try to grab the debit card machine (I can’t tell when I am supposed to swipe my card and when they need to swipe my card for me), or take down a display item, or talk quietly to myself.
This talking to myself is not a new phenomenon. People joke about how that is okay, as long as you don’t answer yourself. Come on. I’m always carrying on a conversation; often it is out loud. It’s fine. I mean, I’m not yelling or using different voices (yet). At times I blame it on being a special education teacher; when the kiddos can’t always respond, you’ve got to keep the conversation going somehow! The reality is that I would probably do it anyway.
So, a frequent exchange I have with my self goes something like this, “Look right, then left. Right, look right.” At school, when I’m teaching kids to safely cross streets, I use similar wording; the kids know it so well eventually they mumble along with me. “Look left, look right. Is it safe to cross? Cross quickly.” I haven’t had to go this extended version, but, after a helpful warning from a friend who’d spent time in London, looking right has saved my behind more than once all ready.
Actually, I have to give Nikki full credit here. Cory and I were at a get-together and were getting ready to head out. As we were leaving for New Zealand shortly, as we were saying our goodbyes, Nikki offered the helpful reminder to always “look left”. She mentioned that she’d been nearly run over by a dozen taxis as she stepped out into traffic without looking left first. Old American habits die hard.
As we left and were making our way down the block, I was mulling her advice over in my head. “Look left? Hmm…” In that instant, the door to the home we’d been at burst open, Nikki stepped out into the evening, dramatically backlit by the glow of the house, and yelled, “Look RIGHT! I mean look right!” I have not mistaken this yet, thanks to Nikki. “Look right!” reverberates in my head.
Right or Left? (Wednesday)
I went to pick Cory up last night; it was dark, but I was feeling pretty good about my driving. Well, that should’ve been my first warning – you jinx yourself when you are overconfident.
I missed my second turn and drove into essentially a dead-end. There was no traffic, so I pulled in and got headed the right direction, pleased that I hadn’t had to go too far out of the way. I was cruising along, listening to the wacky accents on my NZ radio station, when I realized I was on the wrong side of the road. The headlights in front of me, in the same lane, but coming from the opposite direction, were a good reminder. For crying out loud! Now, it was only a block, but still…my worst fear, realized.
Luckily, I managed not to cause an accident and quickly shifted into the correct lane. Now, as this car and I continued to approach each other, I imagine the other driver was a little nervous. But, I nailed the next challenge.
There is a rule here about yielding to the right. Really, that makes a lot of sense as you are going through traffic rounds; I’m good with that. The problem comes in this situation: two cars, facing each other from their correct perspective lanes (imagine one coming from north and one from south), both turning, say east, onto the same perpendicular road. Our rule in the US is that the driver crossing fewer lanes of traffic has the right of way and would turn first. If that rule applied here, the driver turning left would make the turn. However, and this is crazy, I know, in NZ, the driver making a right-hand turn gets the right-of-way!
Anyway, if you followed all that, I made the correct turn in front of the driver I’d just managed to scare out of his wits. It would not be outrageous to suggest that he was just so worried about the crazy girl on the wrong side of the road that he let me go, but regardless, I nailed that turn.
Ironically enough, after telling all this to Cory on the way home and listening to him chuckle at me, this morning, on the way to work, he cut some big lorrie (okay, a truck) off in a reverse situation on the same intersection. My turn to chuckle!
And, Cory didn’t have to work his “long” day yesterday. Instead, he’ll do it Thursday, which at least gives him another day to acclimate. He got lost going to the department yesterday, and was trying to punch in his code at the wrong set of doors. That image makes me laugh every time I call it up… :)
Cory has been pleased with how friendly every one is. This is a good thing, considering he has some new medical terms to catch on to. He operated yesterday, and kept asking for tools or dressings and the nurses would look at him like he was crazy and say “we don’t have anything by that name.” They also thought he sounded hilarious, apparently.
He was intrigued to hear about the residency programs here in NZ. Like the US, four years of medical school are required. After that, you enter your residency program. Othropaedic programs in the US range from 5-6 years; in NZ, you do two years of general surgery, then 2 years of basic ortho. Then, if you are accepted into the ortho program, you do another 4 years of ortho training. Plus, most do 2 years of fellowship in one or more specialty areas. (You know how in Wikipedia, they’ll put in a note that a certain piece of information requires a citation. We’ll consider this my note that I believe this paragraph, and the following, are accurate, but, hey, I’m no expert.)
A positive (in terms of lifestyle) to such an extended program when compared to the US seems to be the hours. Cory was told to show up at 7:30; he was sort of hounding the junior residents to see when they would be showing up, because he thought he’d show up earlier, too. But they really don’t go in until 7:30. Also, as he went to do a case yesterday afternoon, it was after 4:00, and another junior was surprised to see him still at the hospital, as most others had left. They have a 60 hour work week that is actually followed, so that has been a pleasant surprise for Cory.
I personally can’t work an 80-hour or a 60-hour work week, which is why I’m thinking I will try volunteering over here. I heard back from Maunganui College but promptly, and idiotically, deleted the email without reading it. Don’t ask. I can’t explain it either. So, I resent my earlier email with a note saying that I am not always so dense. Hopefully they’ll reply. A staff that helped Cory get set up over here is in orthopaedic pediatrics and referred me to a special ed school, so I shot them an email today, too. From the website, it seemed that their students might sort of be like my students at CR Jeff. It would be pretty interesting to see, so hopefully that will work out, too.
I missed my second turn and drove into essentially a dead-end. There was no traffic, so I pulled in and got headed the right direction, pleased that I hadn’t had to go too far out of the way. I was cruising along, listening to the wacky accents on my NZ radio station, when I realized I was on the wrong side of the road. The headlights in front of me, in the same lane, but coming from the opposite direction, were a good reminder. For crying out loud! Now, it was only a block, but still…my worst fear, realized.
Luckily, I managed not to cause an accident and quickly shifted into the correct lane. Now, as this car and I continued to approach each other, I imagine the other driver was a little nervous. But, I nailed the next challenge.
There is a rule here about yielding to the right. Really, that makes a lot of sense as you are going through traffic rounds; I’m good with that. The problem comes in this situation: two cars, facing each other from their correct perspective lanes (imagine one coming from north and one from south), both turning, say east, onto the same perpendicular road. Our rule in the US is that the driver crossing fewer lanes of traffic has the right of way and would turn first. If that rule applied here, the driver turning left would make the turn. However, and this is crazy, I know, in NZ, the driver making a right-hand turn gets the right-of-way!
Anyway, if you followed all that, I made the correct turn in front of the driver I’d just managed to scare out of his wits. It would not be outrageous to suggest that he was just so worried about the crazy girl on the wrong side of the road that he let me go, but regardless, I nailed that turn.
Ironically enough, after telling all this to Cory on the way home and listening to him chuckle at me, this morning, on the way to work, he cut some big lorrie (okay, a truck) off in a reverse situation on the same intersection. My turn to chuckle!
And, Cory didn’t have to work his “long” day yesterday. Instead, he’ll do it Thursday, which at least gives him another day to acclimate. He got lost going to the department yesterday, and was trying to punch in his code at the wrong set of doors. That image makes me laugh every time I call it up… :)
Cory has been pleased with how friendly every one is. This is a good thing, considering he has some new medical terms to catch on to. He operated yesterday, and kept asking for tools or dressings and the nurses would look at him like he was crazy and say “we don’t have anything by that name.” They also thought he sounded hilarious, apparently.
He was intrigued to hear about the residency programs here in NZ. Like the US, four years of medical school are required. After that, you enter your residency program. Othropaedic programs in the US range from 5-6 years; in NZ, you do two years of general surgery, then 2 years of basic ortho. Then, if you are accepted into the ortho program, you do another 4 years of ortho training. Plus, most do 2 years of fellowship in one or more specialty areas. (You know how in Wikipedia, they’ll put in a note that a certain piece of information requires a citation. We’ll consider this my note that I believe this paragraph, and the following, are accurate, but, hey, I’m no expert.)
A positive (in terms of lifestyle) to such an extended program when compared to the US seems to be the hours. Cory was told to show up at 7:30; he was sort of hounding the junior residents to see when they would be showing up, because he thought he’d show up earlier, too. But they really don’t go in until 7:30. Also, as he went to do a case yesterday afternoon, it was after 4:00, and another junior was surprised to see him still at the hospital, as most others had left. They have a 60 hour work week that is actually followed, so that has been a pleasant surprise for Cory.
I personally can’t work an 80-hour or a 60-hour work week, which is why I’m thinking I will try volunteering over here. I heard back from Maunganui College but promptly, and idiotically, deleted the email without reading it. Don’t ask. I can’t explain it either. So, I resent my earlier email with a note saying that I am not always so dense. Hopefully they’ll reply. A staff that helped Cory get set up over here is in orthopaedic pediatrics and referred me to a special ed school, so I shot them an email today, too. From the website, it seemed that their students might sort of be like my students at CR Jeff. It would be pretty interesting to see, so hopefully that will work out, too.
Monday
I can’t tell you how much I love it when someone comments. It feels so odd, posting this out there in web-space and not knowing if this is actually interesting to anyone else. That being said, I should credit Cory as the photographer – I don’t actually know how to even hook up the camera.
Lauren asked about gas prices, which was a timely comment, as we put about ¾ of a tank in the sweet new ride on Saturday – that was all our 80 NZ bucks got us! The going price is about 2.00 NZ dollars a litre (4 litres in a gallon = 8 NZ dollars a gallon). An NZ dollar is about 0.80 US dollars.
And, speaking of conversions, I’ve got the time conversion down (for us here, back 12 hours and then another 5 to get central standard); I can usually do the miles-kilometers (or “k”s as the car dealers refer to them) and the Farenheit to Celsius. I’ve got nothing on the smaller measurements or the volume, but so far Cory has come in very handy for this!
However, as Cory started work yesterday (poor thing) I am going to have to start taking care of myself again. We realized that we’d been hanging out, full-time, for 2 whole weeks and hadn’t killed each other yet, which was a good sign. That is the longest we’ve ever been around each other without the interruption of work. I always joke that not seeing each other is what makes our marriage work, but I guess we can make it through two weeks together.
With Cory going to work yesterday, after dropping him at the hospital, I headed off on my own. I’d only driven alone (without someone to verbally remind me “stay on the left”, “yield to the right”, “GET OVER TO THE RIGHT!”) one other time, when we bought the car and needed to return the rental. I really do have to pay attention and I’m not really sure anyone would want to ride with me, but I do okay. I can now navigate, without the aid of a map, from the hospital to home and from the grocery store to home. Small steps…
So, I dropped Cory off, made my way back home (aka the temporary apartment), had some tea, showered, and got up the nerve to call the local high school, Mount Maunganui College. (There are a lot of different labels here that I am slowly picking up on. I’m making a list, which maybe I’ll include soon for your perusal.) I was hoping to offer myself up as a volunteer, but the secretary I spoke with transferred me to the reliever coordinator, reliever being the label for substitute. Conveniently enough, the reliever coordinator wasn’t in. I subbed for a month between finishing undergrad and starting grad school. I subbed in Muscatine, where I knew all the schools and knew some of the teachers. I subbed on a continent where I knew the common terms, didn’t struggle with the accent, and had a first-hand (both as a teacher and as a student) experience with the culture of schools. Even then there were times I was uncertain… Should I check to see if the first graders washed their hands? In the “new math” of second grade, when I’m demonstrating regrouping, where do I start crossing off? (The answer is “NOT THERE!” Don’t mess with second graders.) Do you think that they normally check their homework in class? Hmmm… So when contemplating subbing here in NZ, I start to get a little panicky. Back to the point – the reliever coordinator was gone, so when I got transferred back to the secretary, I attempted to re-establish the fact that I would like to volunteer on a regular basis. She said, verbatim, though you can’t hear her cute accent, “Oh, how sweet!” Really, is it that sweet? Am I using the wrong word for volunteer? Do they not need/use volunteers here? I’m not really sure. I did think that perhaps a follow-up email was in line and shot an email to the principal (whose email was in the phone book). We’ll see…
I really hate making phone calls; I don’t know why. But once I finally had that taken care of, I thought I would reward myself and check out the local library. I have a list of topics I wanted books on and, after having barely gotten over here with our luggage, I’m trying hard not to buy too many. The library was one hoppin’ place! I guess I expected it to be a little quieter on a Monday at 10:30 in the morning. Now, I’d heard that Maunganui was a retirees’ haven, and this may explain how busy the library was. About half the library is large print books and they appear to be very popular. Ah ha! The library was fairly small, but offered up most of what I was looking for. Cory and I desperately need a book on rugby, as I’m drawing off knowledge from over a decade ago as a wing (my only job was the catch the ball and run). I also wanted a good New Zealand cook book. Helpfully, they identify books by NZers with a cute little picture of a Kiwi (the bird, not the fruit) above the call number. So I settled on a few cookbooks and a “rugby for dummies” book.
I headed to the grocery store next. I was inspired by the cookbooks, but didn’t want to buy too many staple ingredients – one more thing to move at the end of the week! So nothing to exciting on the list: milk, OJ, cocoa, tea, apples, tomatoes, and ice cream. Remember it is winter here, which really is pretty mild, but folks drink cocoa, tea, or coffee for breakfast and then throughout most of the day. When in Rome... In addition to that exciting purchase, I had to get the famous NZ ice cream – hokey pokey. Cory and I had it after dinner last night. It’s pretty fantastic, though it would be slander to say otherwise. It is sort of a vanilla base with butterscotch undertones and then small, delightfully crunchy, butterscotch pieces. It isn’t hard like toffee or firm like a nut, but sort of brittle. Pretty good stuff…
And I bought a kumara! I almost forgot! A kumara appears to be an NZ-only vegetable, a tuber similar to a sweet potato. So tonight, if Cory is not working his “late night”, I’ll bake some kumara.
While I was off driving on the left side of the road, Cory was at his first day of work. It was sort of an orientation day, really, but today (Tuesday) he’ll get going for real. He has clinic in the private hospital in the morning and then trauma call this afternoon and maybe this evening. He is schedule to work 4 “regular” days (which means he show up at 7:30 a.m. – talk about sleeping in for him!) and one “long day”, where he’ll work until 10:30 p.m. (I know, those of you who are in residency think the idea of that as a “long day” is laughable. So did Cory, but no complaints, mate!) He did get scheduled for his first long day for today, his second day of work! A scheduling clerk said she would try to get it changed, so we’ll see. I know he’d be fine, but talk about baptism by fire!
And, hopefully, on Wednesday we'll have an update on the housing situation. The woman who runs these apartments, Lindy, had some options for us for a long-term stay. We really love this apartment and hope that our budget can afford something similar. We'll see!
Lauren asked about gas prices, which was a timely comment, as we put about ¾ of a tank in the sweet new ride on Saturday – that was all our 80 NZ bucks got us! The going price is about 2.00 NZ dollars a litre (4 litres in a gallon = 8 NZ dollars a gallon). An NZ dollar is about 0.80 US dollars.
And, speaking of conversions, I’ve got the time conversion down (for us here, back 12 hours and then another 5 to get central standard); I can usually do the miles-kilometers (or “k”s as the car dealers refer to them) and the Farenheit to Celsius. I’ve got nothing on the smaller measurements or the volume, but so far Cory has come in very handy for this!
However, as Cory started work yesterday (poor thing) I am going to have to start taking care of myself again. We realized that we’d been hanging out, full-time, for 2 whole weeks and hadn’t killed each other yet, which was a good sign. That is the longest we’ve ever been around each other without the interruption of work. I always joke that not seeing each other is what makes our marriage work, but I guess we can make it through two weeks together.
With Cory going to work yesterday, after dropping him at the hospital, I headed off on my own. I’d only driven alone (without someone to verbally remind me “stay on the left”, “yield to the right”, “GET OVER TO THE RIGHT!”) one other time, when we bought the car and needed to return the rental. I really do have to pay attention and I’m not really sure anyone would want to ride with me, but I do okay. I can now navigate, without the aid of a map, from the hospital to home and from the grocery store to home. Small steps…
So, I dropped Cory off, made my way back home (aka the temporary apartment), had some tea, showered, and got up the nerve to call the local high school, Mount Maunganui College. (There are a lot of different labels here that I am slowly picking up on. I’m making a list, which maybe I’ll include soon for your perusal.) I was hoping to offer myself up as a volunteer, but the secretary I spoke with transferred me to the reliever coordinator, reliever being the label for substitute. Conveniently enough, the reliever coordinator wasn’t in. I subbed for a month between finishing undergrad and starting grad school. I subbed in Muscatine, where I knew all the schools and knew some of the teachers. I subbed on a continent where I knew the common terms, didn’t struggle with the accent, and had a first-hand (both as a teacher and as a student) experience with the culture of schools. Even then there were times I was uncertain… Should I check to see if the first graders washed their hands? In the “new math” of second grade, when I’m demonstrating regrouping, where do I start crossing off? (The answer is “NOT THERE!” Don’t mess with second graders.) Do you think that they normally check their homework in class? Hmmm… So when contemplating subbing here in NZ, I start to get a little panicky. Back to the point – the reliever coordinator was gone, so when I got transferred back to the secretary, I attempted to re-establish the fact that I would like to volunteer on a regular basis. She said, verbatim, though you can’t hear her cute accent, “Oh, how sweet!” Really, is it that sweet? Am I using the wrong word for volunteer? Do they not need/use volunteers here? I’m not really sure. I did think that perhaps a follow-up email was in line and shot an email to the principal (whose email was in the phone book). We’ll see…
I really hate making phone calls; I don’t know why. But once I finally had that taken care of, I thought I would reward myself and check out the local library. I have a list of topics I wanted books on and, after having barely gotten over here with our luggage, I’m trying hard not to buy too many. The library was one hoppin’ place! I guess I expected it to be a little quieter on a Monday at 10:30 in the morning. Now, I’d heard that Maunganui was a retirees’ haven, and this may explain how busy the library was. About half the library is large print books and they appear to be very popular. Ah ha! The library was fairly small, but offered up most of what I was looking for. Cory and I desperately need a book on rugby, as I’m drawing off knowledge from over a decade ago as a wing (my only job was the catch the ball and run). I also wanted a good New Zealand cook book. Helpfully, they identify books by NZers with a cute little picture of a Kiwi (the bird, not the fruit) above the call number. So I settled on a few cookbooks and a “rugby for dummies” book.
I headed to the grocery store next. I was inspired by the cookbooks, but didn’t want to buy too many staple ingredients – one more thing to move at the end of the week! So nothing to exciting on the list: milk, OJ, cocoa, tea, apples, tomatoes, and ice cream. Remember it is winter here, which really is pretty mild, but folks drink cocoa, tea, or coffee for breakfast and then throughout most of the day. When in Rome... In addition to that exciting purchase, I had to get the famous NZ ice cream – hokey pokey. Cory and I had it after dinner last night. It’s pretty fantastic, though it would be slander to say otherwise. It is sort of a vanilla base with butterscotch undertones and then small, delightfully crunchy, butterscotch pieces. It isn’t hard like toffee or firm like a nut, but sort of brittle. Pretty good stuff…
And I bought a kumara! I almost forgot! A kumara appears to be an NZ-only vegetable, a tuber similar to a sweet potato. So tonight, if Cory is not working his “late night”, I’ll bake some kumara.
While I was off driving on the left side of the road, Cory was at his first day of work. It was sort of an orientation day, really, but today (Tuesday) he’ll get going for real. He has clinic in the private hospital in the morning and then trauma call this afternoon and maybe this evening. He is schedule to work 4 “regular” days (which means he show up at 7:30 a.m. – talk about sleeping in for him!) and one “long day”, where he’ll work until 10:30 p.m. (I know, those of you who are in residency think the idea of that as a “long day” is laughable. So did Cory, but no complaints, mate!) He did get scheduled for his first long day for today, his second day of work! A scheduling clerk said she would try to get it changed, so we’ll see. I know he’d be fine, but talk about baptism by fire!
And, hopefully, on Wednesday we'll have an update on the housing situation. The woman who runs these apartments, Lindy, had some options for us for a long-term stay. We really love this apartment and hope that our budget can afford something similar. We'll see!
Rotorua
Saturday we got in the car and headed south to Rotorua, which in Maori means “second lake” (roto = lake, rua = two; it being the second lake the newly landed Polynesian explorers had seen – fun fact). In and around Rotorua are hydrothermal areas; it lies on the Pacific Ring of Fire. The volcano Tarawera lies in the area; the last major explosion was in 1886, but there have been numerous others, with the most recent in 1973. The surrounding area, including old craters, some which have since formed lakes, and valleys is the Waimangu area. It was very cool. It was a rainy day, often just lightly misting. You could see steam eking out of the side of rocks, leaving little sulfur deposits along the rock face. From the gasses escaping from the crater bottom, the lake waters bubbled like a simmering pot; the water itself wasn’t boiling, though it was a good 50-75 degrees Celsius (which would be about 120-165 degrees Farenheit, I think). Other water would actually be shooting up, like a small geyser, a natural hot spring. In some areas, you’d be surrounded by tree ferns and other greenery, standing alongside a bubbling stream, sulfur smell in the air, and steam all around. The most striking view was that of Inferno Crater Lake. You know that blue-green color you pulled out of the Crayola box as a kid? Well, this water is truly that color. You really couldn’t stare long enough.
Last night, then, we watched the All Blacks game. If you recall, they’d been beaten pretty handily on the 26th by the Australian team, whose coach is a newly imported Kiwi rugby great. But, relief, the All Blacks pulled it off last night and whomped them!
I also wanted to give you a quick update on the culinary side of things. Okay, maybe culinary is too strong a word… But there are two different sodas here – ginger beer and L&P. Ginger beer had potential but the aftertaste that burns the back of your throat is just too strong. (Dad, you would love it.) L&P, or Lemon & Paeroa, however, is pretty good stuff. Paeroa is a nearby town with a natural spring – that, a little lemon, and some “secret ingredients” combine for a pretty good flavor! In fact, as the label states, it is “world famous in New Zealand”!
Last night, then, we watched the All Blacks game. If you recall, they’d been beaten pretty handily on the 26th by the Australian team, whose coach is a newly imported Kiwi rugby great. But, relief, the All Blacks pulled it off last night and whomped them!
I also wanted to give you a quick update on the culinary side of things. Okay, maybe culinary is too strong a word… But there are two different sodas here – ginger beer and L&P. Ginger beer had potential but the aftertaste that burns the back of your throat is just too strong. (Dad, you would love it.) L&P, or Lemon & Paeroa, however, is pretty good stuff. Paeroa is a nearby town with a natural spring – that, a little lemon, and some “secret ingredients” combine for a pretty good flavor! In fact, as the label states, it is “world famous in New Zealand”!
The saga continues… (Friday)
Cory got a call last night from his contact at the hospital; she said the medical council had come through and that he needed to go to Auckland to do his medical council interview on Friday. So, this morning, we waited for her phone call and then headed out on the road. The trip to Auckland takes about 3 hours, so while it wouldn’t be a short trip, it was good to be getting this taken care of!!
If you’ve missed all this, we’ve arrived here in NZ without a visa because we were missing the “registration” from the NZ Medical Council. We actually tried sending our application off to the consulate without the form, but they promptly sent it back – they really do check those things. Unfortunate in our case. :)
So, when the lady from the hospital called about the interview, she assumed that the council also had the registration and that we would receive it today. We’d then be able to apply for our visas on Monday.
Well, if you’ve caught on to the blatant foreshadowing, you will realize that this did not all happen according to our hopes. We arrived and Cory had his interview with a member of the NZ Medical Council. The guy promptly asked if Cory had his registration from the council. Whuuu? So the council guy gets on and calls someone else from “the council” and they indicate that Cory’s medical council application is missing a letter of reference… Without the letter of reference, we can’t get the registration. Without the registration, we can’t apply for the visa.
Now, if you want to do a quick flashback with us, you’ll see this exchange in a series of emails:
Hospital lady – Cory, I have all of your letters of reference.
Cory – Great!
(3 weeks later)
Hospital lady – Um, Cory I have two of your letters; I’m waiting on a third.
Cory – You said earlier that you had them all. They should’ve been sent.
(1 week later)
Hospital lady – Oh. Yeah. So, I have all of your letters of reference.
Cory – Oh. Okay. Well, great.
Really, this should have been cause for alarm. But, you know, you have to put some worries aside and move on. So we assumed it was okay and we forgot about it. Silly rabbit…
So, now, we’ve got to locate the missing letter of reference or (probably the simpler route) just get another one sent. Then, we can send it in to the medical council, get the registration, and apply for the visa. Finally.
Honestly, there hasn’t been that much harm done, not having a visa. We had to buy plane tickets for three months out, so that we could enter on a visitors visa. There will have to be a cancellation fee so we can change the tickets, but that is really all we are put out. So, don’t feel too bad as you read this tale of woe. Hey, we’re in New Zealand! :)
If you’ve missed all this, we’ve arrived here in NZ without a visa because we were missing the “registration” from the NZ Medical Council. We actually tried sending our application off to the consulate without the form, but they promptly sent it back – they really do check those things. Unfortunate in our case. :)
So, when the lady from the hospital called about the interview, she assumed that the council also had the registration and that we would receive it today. We’d then be able to apply for our visas on Monday.
Well, if you’ve caught on to the blatant foreshadowing, you will realize that this did not all happen according to our hopes. We arrived and Cory had his interview with a member of the NZ Medical Council. The guy promptly asked if Cory had his registration from the council. Whuuu? So the council guy gets on and calls someone else from “the council” and they indicate that Cory’s medical council application is missing a letter of reference… Without the letter of reference, we can’t get the registration. Without the registration, we can’t apply for the visa.
Now, if you want to do a quick flashback with us, you’ll see this exchange in a series of emails:
Hospital lady – Cory, I have all of your letters of reference.
Cory – Great!
(3 weeks later)
Hospital lady – Um, Cory I have two of your letters; I’m waiting on a third.
Cory – You said earlier that you had them all. They should’ve been sent.
(1 week later)
Hospital lady – Oh. Yeah. So, I have all of your letters of reference.
Cory – Oh. Okay. Well, great.
Really, this should have been cause for alarm. But, you know, you have to put some worries aside and move on. So we assumed it was okay and we forgot about it. Silly rabbit…
So, now, we’ve got to locate the missing letter of reference or (probably the simpler route) just get another one sent. Then, we can send it in to the medical council, get the registration, and apply for the visa. Finally.
Honestly, there hasn’t been that much harm done, not having a visa. We had to buy plane tickets for three months out, so that we could enter on a visitors visa. There will have to be a cancellation fee so we can change the tickets, but that is really all we are put out. So, don’t feel too bad as you read this tale of woe. Hey, we’re in New Zealand! :)
Thursday
(Okay, so this time, I fixed the time within Blogspot, so it really will be right this time around... Except that I couldn't ge the page to upload, so it's a day late. Bother.)
Oh - the sun came out this morning! We'd been hit with another tropical storm (aka a "weather bomb") on Tuesday. Tuesday night was simply unbelievable. There is a skylight in each room of our apartment and I truly believed that it was going to either blow off or come crashing in. The wind blew so hard and the rain poured. I like thunderstorms and very little wakes me once I fall asleep, but this was so unusual.
So this morning, when there was sunshine, we decided it was time to walk around Mt. Manuganui. The "mount", as folks refer to it, is at the norther tip of Maunganui and is a definite landmark. It isn't extremely large (I've got no stats here on size), but it is an inactive volcano that juts out into the ocean. The circumfrence of the Mount in about 3K, and it is a pretty, easygoing walk. There are also paths up to the summit, but we are saving that for later!
Oh - the sun came out this morning! We'd been hit with another tropical storm (aka a "weather bomb") on Tuesday. Tuesday night was simply unbelievable. There is a skylight in each room of our apartment and I truly believed that it was going to either blow off or come crashing in. The wind blew so hard and the rain poured. I like thunderstorms and very little wakes me once I fall asleep, but this was so unusual.
So this morning, when there was sunshine, we decided it was time to walk around Mt. Manuganui. The "mount", as folks refer to it, is at the norther tip of Maunganui and is a definite landmark. It isn't extremely large (I've got no stats here on size), but it is an inactive volcano that juts out into the ocean. The circumfrence of the Mount in about 3K, and it is a pretty, easygoing walk. There are also paths up to the summit, but we are saving that for later!
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