A taste of down under

Kia ora!

~I wrote this greeting from a home I was thankful to return to on the day before I flew home. This place is Ecoquest, on the Kaiaua coast at Whakatiwai. It's an assortment of accounts from my travels, written to my EQ cronies, but for all to read.


Though the rain is being tossed about, making for a potentially dreary afternoon, it has instead created an afternoon steeped with stories, shared over a lunch and ginger-lemon tea with Ria, Liz, George and Jono. And, I'm sleeping in our cabin, Jen!

For those of you bleary-eyed at the end of this note (novella), I hope you'll still find time to flick one back to me, no matter how short or long, in a few hours, next week, or even next month. I've managed to stray from computers this until now, resulting in this incredibly epic tale in one giant-sized portion, the longest email I've written, full of run-ons. Ready for it?

I have felt your vibes as I've traveled, and especially now, being back, seeing each of you-- laughing and carrying on, out on the climbing wall, caring for the chooks (yep--they're all still here, and those lovely ladies are giving eggs to those who are staying at the Kaiaua motor camp)...tending to the garden (thanks heaps, Leo--we just had some basil, lettuce and wee litle tomatoes with lunch), walking on the beach, composing tunes on the deck of the wharekai, and running out in the rain for the pure joy of the release.

Goodness sakes, where to begin. Well, out at Tiritiri I heard and saw my first kiwi, which was an experience I shared with a few others staying at the bunkhouse, as we investigated on a strange muffled scuffling just off the track. I had been doing odd volunteer jobs and enjoying it thoroughly (as one would, 'working' on an island and falling hopelessly in love with the wildlife and people on it instantly). Emilie, from Holland, is studying the NI robin, and as my general duties ended at 3, I went out with her in search of nestlings to band and a few M.I.A. females, (all of whom have been reunited with their mates). One of our efforts to capture a juvenile was thwarted by Greg, a Takahe who seems to know all the ongoings of the island and show up at the most inopportune times... While I was there, I also went out once at night to band unsuspecting little blue penguins coming up on shore. Helping with kakariki observations led me to seeing a nest box chock-a-block full with 9 eggs, and while monitoring a hihi nest I saw a morepork and her two little ones roosting contentedly up in a tree nearby. Those details being the icing, the cake consisted of painting new steps to go in near the lighthouse, painting signs, constructing shelving and relocating cleaning supplies from a shed, filling the water feeders every morning, and things of that ilk.

Traveling through this country wouldn't be complete without half a dozen more random (?) encounters with people I hadn't expected to see again...and again. As I relaxed into the cozy plush chair at Whitcoull's bookstore, who do I see but the man a few of us had come across on Queen street a week before and in Graham's friend's dorm/train station ! None other than Felipe Gomez. Well, after a few words of disbelief, we began to search for books to give as christmas gifts for "two 35-year old dads in difficult circumstances"--for their non-denominational church gift swap. I suggested the Blue Day Book, and we picked up two copies just in time, then he invited me up to the flat he and several other international students share at Auckland Uni. In their living room (complete with hammock strung from wall to wall and windows overlooking the city), we had a scrumptious vege dinner prepared by Geronimo (yep), an Argentinian student, another absolutely lovely individual, shared with and Claire and Nicholas, a french couple, Dave (who is from Chicago, plays a guitar he's collaged with all sorts of photos from his life, works at the "Boost"-smoothie stand, loves a cappella music and was heaps of fun to talk with), and Felipe. A bunch of 20-and 30- somethings just enjoying each other's company to the utmost, for one night, chattering and laughing away, as if meeting people with this much in common was easy. The next morning I headed off to Warkworth, for my first WWOOFing escapade.

Alright, so from here on out, little blurbs will have to suffice. I helped rehabilitate injured kereru, tui, morepork, ducks and other birds, also tending to pigs, a goat and two donkeys during my week stay at this home in the hills. Shit-shoveling became a daily chore, but I was glad to do it, as donkey turds are well-contained little clumps (making the task far from grueling), and it was all part of the local economy (green dollar). Thomas (the other WWOOFer, from Canada) and I pulled weeds, chatting about politics, did the daily animal tasks, and even tramped (slipped, at times) down a never-ending gully to locate a waterfall tucked away far from the reach of most two-legged visitors. I spent christmas with Shawn and Michael, and while I was there, met two incredible neighbors, Joe and Trish, who came over for dinner. They live on Rainbow Valley Farm, living creatively and happily, practicing permaculture principles and holding workshops to share the knowledge. It's not been easy; callused hands tell of years of good full-on work, starting with hand-pulling every bit of gorse that riddled the land. I left, just to return two days later, for dinner and enthralling conversation on ecovillage design.

So much for thinning the nutshell. I headed for my next WWOOF site, which inspired a bit of personal growth in ways I hadn't expected. On arriving, I found that Anahata (the name meaning heart chakra) WAS the site of very same community my last host had described, (Centrepoint), though I had assured him that this was a different place, as I had thought. The WWOOF description says nothing of its days as a commune infamous for drugs, orgy therapy and the like, so when I arrived, realizing this and seeing several unkempt, underloved living areas (manifestations perhaps of the people there?), I passed my judgements. I immediately felt that this was a far cry from any dedicated, enriching "ecovillage" in my eyes, and began looking for a way out. A now-good-friend, Annamaria (a petite irish woman), was planning to head off two days from then, and I started making arrangements to go with her.

--Here's the flipside. I realized that while I wouldn't live there for any length of time, there were a handful of individuals who were investing time and energy into the physical and social elements of their community (So, there was hope). I immediately got to know who those people were, and I was soon assigned the task of figuring out a way to "save the birds" in their patch of native bush, once one of the community members discovered I had a passion for birds and conservation work. She wanted me to write an article to Forest and Bird, to spread the word, essentially about the biodiversity value of their land, towards keeping it safe from rapidly encroaching development. What had to be done first was a bit of groundwork, and so I set out to do it. I got in touch with a local organization (a whim gone so right), and Tony Hart came out the next day to do a site visit and consultation. He gave the community all sorts of ideas on how to work with the council and team up with other neighboring communities in Albany facing the same development pressures. I left the end of that week feeling accomplished, but more than that, accepting of people I had been so quick to judge.

The night before Annamaria and I took a road trip to Benneydale, she, another mutual friend and I sang the night away with some Iron and Wine, Tracy Chapman, Josh Ritter, Crosby, Stills & Nash, and more, while we looked at some photos we'd all taken over a few bird-photography day trips. On one of those trips, we went to Miranda, and as they ate at the fish and chips, I jogged back to Whakatiwai to see who I might see, and sure enough--RHONDA appeared, driving out to dinner!

Staying in a farmhouse in Benneydale, we spent the next few days in the field, going after robins, and she headed off to WWOOF in Napier, on a shitake mushroom farm. I loved working there so much that when I had a weekend off up at the KMA, I bused back to Benneydale. Nikki, finishing his masters on robins, is one of the greatest, most eco-minded kiwi I've met. He and his flatmates do things like organizing a new category for the NZ twitching (rare-bird-finding) 24-hr marathon event: by bike, rather than by car, helicopter and every other fuel-guzzling-bird-unfriendly mode of transport there is. He and I spent most of our days trapsing around in farmer's paddocks, avoiding the stampeding steer along the way, until we reached the patches of bush, offering mealworms and calling "Here, robbie, robbie, robbie" to the birds he'd been training for translocation. People I've become good friends with along the way have been marvelous at mixing work with play--I couldn't have asked for a better holiday. One nite, we went tiptoeing (up to our knees) around in a little ditch looking to catch Australian bellfrogs (nope, not a typo). He went in first, and soon we were madly (but stealthily) leaping after these frogs, to get a good glimpse.

Karori Wildlife sanctuary--again, an absolute trip. I was radio tracking kaka, tuatara, searching for nests, (*found two bellbird nests - one on the day I arrived, one on the day I left), and continuing to have the time of my life. In Wellington, I met up with Bernard (from live bait--the band at Molly Malones!!), as he was also listening to the music in the botanical gardens outdoor amphitheater one summer nite. He invited me to a couple fiddling events that week--an irish jam session, dinner and music with friends (who are into arabic, gypsy, klezmer and all sorts of music styles). The adventures didn't stop there, as on my bus ride back from Wellington I met Martin, a friend from working at Journey's End farm camp in Pennsylvania two years back! Whoah. Well, a few days at the Hunua Ranges with more wonderful people and kokako just about sums it up.

From time to time, I stop and think about how much love there is among us. You all truly amaze me. Thanks heaps for all of it, and for the reunions yet to come. Hey--I called Max up on friday; it sounds like he might be heading for the states at some point in the not-so-distant future! So, with best wishes for this new year, I'll leave you all to it, whatever it is you were up to. I think we've stumbled upon the 'real stuff' of life together, and I'm psyched to tell friends and family back home (tomorrow!) all about y'all.

Love,
Dhyana

A nice poem I came across in a collection of NZ poetry while sitting in a bookstore in Papakura:
Song for a Child

Each day the thrush is heard
on pole or bough
Singing as though no bird
found voice 'till now

The young rose lifts her head
As if her root
Knew nothing of roses dead
Or younger shoot.

Child, in the morning sun
Find all things new
With each new rose; ask none
if they speak true.
--Ruth Dallas

kaua e tirohia te pai ahua, engari te raupa o te ringa
take no heed of good looks, but rather of the rough hand of the worker
--Maori proverb