Taranaki Antiques and Collectables

I wish I could blame my current inability to remember the topics on which I've already blogged on my current socialization with the over-65 crowd, but those who know me well know my memory problems were around long before my current friendship circle.  Part of the problem is the levels of communication.  I write occasional emails to my coworkers back home, I call home to my family once a week, post things on Facebook, and message people back home as well.  By the time all those things have happened I can't remember to whom, or when, I told certain things!

The auction on Sunday for the Hospice Shop was very enjoyable.  I arrived around 9:30am, as requested, but they didn't really have anything for me to do until the auction started.  Eileen had texted Saturday night that she wasn't sure if she was going to make it, she was feeling a bit under the weather.  But shortly after I arrived Val and Rita showed up!  I've met Rita at Val's various parties (she had an afternoon tea for her neighbor's birthday the other week and oh my goodness, she never does anything half-way; the foods were delicious), a few times now so it was fun to walk around the tables and check out the items up for auction with them.

There were some very cool things for sale and I could certainly have bought some things myself, but I don't have a lot of room in my suitcase so I didn't even get a number.  Some things went for just $10 and would have been cool mementos of my time here, but who needs more stuff? In the end I was busy the whole time anyway.

The lot of Maori Portraits by Lindauer (prints of his works, not originals)
were the highest bid items of the day, going for over $500.  I had thought
before the auction start that one of them might be a nice souvenir.
My Mom always said I have expensive tastes....

During the auction they had me on the "Vanna White" team, at least that's what I nicknamed us.  All the items were numbered and as each item went up for bid we were to hold it up so everyone could see the item currently on auction.  There were actually quite a few of us on the team, and although it didn't work out the way they explained beforehand that it should work out, we finally managed to get a system going.  Standing in front of a bunch of strangers holding up random items isn't exactly my environment to thrive, but the ladies kept me laughing through it all.    We would each get assigned lot numbers, and we just kept rotating through the line.  The ladies behind me got a kick of commenting that they were younger than me when we started getting assigned to the 70's and 80's numbers.  The event started at 11:30 and we got through the last item around 1:30.  We had such a large team because they didn't want anyone's arms to get tired, but most items weren't that large and were auctioned rather quickly.  Granted, that's the 29-year-old talking, not the opinion of the 78-year-old ladies with which I was working.  It was just nice to be part of a little community event, to be able to meet people that you can one day run into at the grocery store.  Yes, that may sound odd, but that's one of the ways I start to feel at home.  I still remember the first person I ran into at the grocery store while living in Cairns and feeling like I belonged, simply because I could have a quick chat with someone while shopping for eggs.


In other news, I got the car back today - looking good as new!  I'm quite thankful it was done in just 6 working days as the "courtesy car" they gave me didn't quite have enough room for Sam.  I had to be careful to make sure his tail was tucked in and he had his head over the seat before I closed the trunk.  Since he couldn't really move around in the back I had to leave him home when I would go out to craft, Monday discussion group, or volunteering at the shop - he was NOT appreciative.  Plus, I didn't have to pay the excess - just a $35 fee for the use of the courtesy car.  God is good.

P.S.  I did pass my Psychology class and did manage to keep my grade-point average.

Psyched for Psychology (to be over)

I just finished my last chapter in Experiencing Psychology!!  I'll study over the weekend and hopefully be able to take the final exam on Monday.  It feels like such a relief to not feel as if I must constantly have my nose in my textbook for fear of getting behind.  Anyway, as you might guess, the sections in which the roles of culture play a part in people's reactions, behaviours, and attitudes are my favourite.  Ever wonder why certain cultures value conformity, while others value individuality?  Apparently scientist have found that pathogens might help answer that question.  Granted, there are more factors involved than just germs:

 "Unique cooking traditions are often used to distinguish among cultures. In particular, some cultures are known for their fiery cuisine, while others feature blander foods...Thus, Damian Murray and Mark Schaller (2010) proposed that cultures favoring spicier foods would also be those that emerged in places with relatively more pathogens, a prediction they supported in a large-scale cross-cultural examination. Consider, too, that surviving in a world in which infectious agents are an ever-present threat might also mean curtailing those social behaviors through which diseases are more likely to spread. Interestingly, extraversion—a trait associated with outgoing sociable behavior—is lower in nations in which pathogen prevalence is high."  Experiencing Psychology, 3rd edition

Pretty neat, huh? 

I've also been thinking, after my last post with the Milo canister, about other ways I know I'm not still in the U.S.  Beside the accents, a lot of names are different here.  Nigel, Bryn, Declan, Bronwyn, Valda and some others I will not even attempt to spell.  Also, they say "tea" instead of dinner/supper.  I'm quite sure they got this from the Brits.  It can be a bit confusing when someone invites you over for "tea", but they actually mean an entire evening meal, not just a drink.  If they were inviting you over for just a drink they'd say "Would like to come over for a cuppa?"  Also, even the way people use cutlery here is different from Americans.  The Aussies and the Kiwis, unsurprisingly, take after the Brits in this regard as well.  While we are taught as children that you eat with your fork, and when necessary pick up your knife to cut your food and then replace the knife on your plate; here they eat with both utensils simultaneously.  While not as hard as learning to use chopsticks, I still find it difficult to emulate. 
Although it's now technically the middle of winter, it's been in the 50's for the last couple of weeks and the flowers are starting to come out.  I've been watching the daffodils grow in the park, where Sam gets his exercise; well, technically, we both get our exercise because he's not very good at returning the ball to me.  I'd still prefer a proper summer, but I certainly shouldn't complain about the winter I'm experiencing.

King Edward Park, Hawera

This past Sunday was "Bible Sunday" here in New Zealand, and Pastor Paul gave a neat little message on the importance of reading the Bible for all it's worth.  He compared our reading of the Bible to two of the 20th century's cooking inventions of which we're all quite familiar: microwaves and crock-pots.  We often want to microwave the scriptures.  Turn to a verse, read it and we're good for the day.  Or perhaps we just cherry-pick to find one quick verse which backs us up in our position on a topic.  In reality we should be treating our reading as a crock-pot, we should simmer in the Word and meditate on it (Ps. 1:2 and 119:97).

Life in Hawera

It seems my thoughts have been rather scattered a bit in regards to a blog post, so my apologies for the possible lack of thought-flow by the time I'm done writing this.  I was at the Hospice Shop on Thursday this week for my usual morning of volunteer cleaning and pricing.  I mostly worked by myself since several of the ladies were upstairs getting things ready for their yearly fundraising auction.  Throughout the year when they receive items that are antiques or could potentially be worth more than a regular op-shop customer might pay they store them until the next yearly auction.  Jax, one of the managers, asked me if I'd be interested in helping out this year, as it's on the 29th of this month.  It seems they have trouble getting the regular volunteers to help because of family obligations over the weekend.  In addition, many of the regular volunteers are in their 70's and 80's so it is quite tiring; Jax was very diplomatic about it, but since I'm young by comparison it would be helpful for her to have me there.  I have no idea what this entails, but I told her I'd be happy to help.  Who knows, it could be fun!  Everyone got together for a special coffee break, and these ladies are a hoot.  I only really know Margaret and Yvonne, but the banter around the table even had me cracking up.  I don't know how long they've all been working there together, but they're all so lovely.  One of the items I cleaned that reminded me that I'm "not in Kansas anymore" was a set of canisters for your beverages.

My view as I work

Tea, Milo, and Coffee - a trifecta of hot drinks

I took these video clips while watching one of the Maori TV channels the other day.  Thought you all might enjoy a glimpse into their culture and a chance to hear some of the language.

As far as my psychology class goes, I'm still enjoying some of the material, but the pace is definitely getting old.  On the plus side, I'm over halfway through the class so the end is in sight.  The most recent chapters were about Motivation, Emotion, and Personality, so that was far more interesting than the regions of the brain.  It was odd in the personality chapter, I recognized some of the names of the researchers and their testing methods from a book I read while in Christchurch, The Secret Life of Pronouns by James W. Pennebaker.  Although I'm sure it isn't everyone's cup of tea I found it to be incredibly fascinating.  A great mix of odd facts and ways of using language to understand people.

  As the title says, it focuses on pronouns and "examines how and why pronouns and other forgettable words reveal so much about us...At the heart of this book is the idea that our words leave indelible fingerprints of personality, our relationships and backgrounds, and even our plans for the future. "  One of the neat things about the book was that it has a website where you can find some of the tests mentioned; you can actually do them and test for yourself how analyzing word use gives clues about ourselves.  There's even a link to a website that allows you to enter a person's "Twitter handle" to "learn their emotions, social styles, and the ways they think" after it analyzers the things they tweet.

Also, here's a blurb from the textbook with a link for a test on your emotional intelligence if anyone's interested:

Recall that some psychologists believe that the ability to identify and regulate one's emotions is a kind of intelligence. Emotionally intelligent people are also thought to be better at reading the emotional expressions of others. Do a web search for emotional intelligence tests and take some online quizzes, or just try this one at http://greatergood.berkeley.edu/ei_quiz/. Do you think you are emotionally intelligent? Does your performance on the test seem to reflect your actual experience? What is your opinion of the test you tried? 

Freezer Roulette

Before their departure, James showed me a small chest freezer in the garage with various foods (mostly meat) and told me to eat it.  Most of it would be no good by the time they got back and would just end up thrown out.  While not exorbitant, meat is certainly not cheap here so I was quite grateful for this windfall.  Some of the items were still in their packages from the store, meaning I knew what it was, had a vague idea how old it was, and also how much there was (1 kg or 500g).  Quite a few of the items were not so finely packaged.  Wrapped in thin white bags, most not even sealed in any way, they were mystery meat.

I think this is frozen couscous, but it could be breaded chicken.
I'll figure it out eventually

 So I've taken to making a trip to the freezer, pulling out something, letting it thaw, and then trying to decipher what it could possibly be; based on my analysis I decide how you cook it.  It's been quite fascinating and has definitely sent me to the internet to search for recipes since we don't eat much lamb back home.  One day I was quite sure I'd thawed ground beef and decided to make hamburgers.  Once I smelled them cooking I knew instantly that it hadn't been beef, but lamb.  They tasted fine, so no harm, no foul.  Some items have been delightful surprises, such as frozen croissants that far surpass any croissant I've eaten in recent memory, but that's a story for another time.

Remember the dinner party last Friday, with the lamb shank?  Well, Val sent me home the bones off everyone's plates to feed to Sam.  Eileen warned me to be careful though, something about enzymes in lamb that can be life-threatening to your dog, that plus the fact that you're not to give dogs cooked bones because of all sorts of health problems it could cause.  All that to say, I fed Sam two of them before chickening out and deciding to use the rest of them to make bone broth.  Mind you, I've never made bone broth before, but the internet is a beautiful thing.  I found a few recipes and decided I'd just wing it.  It's hardly a science and one of the recipes mentioned using a slow cooker so I threw some stuff in the pot and left it cooking while I slept.  I srained everything the next morning and it tasted wonderful.  Success.

Ah, but now what to do with lamb broth?  Back to the interwebs...  Several Google searches later, and a trip to the freezer that produces what I'm quite confident is part of a previously roasted, half-eaten pork shoulder, I decide on Linsen Suppe (German Lentil Soup).  I still had some split, red lentils in the cupboard from my last last pot of soup (no recipe to that one either, which sadly means I can't replicate it), so it seemed like the perfect choice. As my younger brother can attest, I rarely follow recipes to the letter; I use them as loose guidelines and improvise as necessary.  Sometimes it works really well and sometimes not as well.  Despite his protests of my cooking style, he has admitted (of his own free will) that he never liked cheesecake until I started making them, so take that for what it's worth.  So, anyone care to hazard a guess on the outcome of my latest creation?

It's absolutely delicious, and since my opinion is the only one that counts seeing as I'm the only one eating it, the verdict stands.  As I help myself to seconds I'm slightly saddened by the realization that I'll never be able to replicate this soup.  Ah, well, that's the hazards of flying by the seat of your pants.

In other news, I had more guests book in this week.  There was no time-frame on their reservation to give me an idea of their estimated arrival (the booking was made online), and by 11pm that night I called it quits and went to bed.  They never did show up.  Anyway, I also had my first exam in my psychology class.  I took it Tuesday afternoon and when I woke up on Wednesday morning I saw an email from the teacher (to all the students) advising us that we were allowed to use our notes and our book when we take the test.  I think I did ok without the help, but the time difference is definitely a hindrance sometimes in online studying.  I still don't enjoy the studying and test-taking but the material is fascinating.  My younger brother took the same class, from the same professor, and told me that I shouldn't have any trouble.  Trouble I might have, but I will pass, and hopefully with an A.

Enjoy this chunk of "Experiencing Psychology" from the chapter I'm reading today:

Cultures vary in the ways they define intelligence. Most European Americans think of intelligence in terms of reasoning and thinking skills, but people in Kenya consider responsible participation in family and social life an integral part of intelligence. An intelligent person in Uganda is someone who knows what to do and follows through with appropriate action. Intelligence to the Iatmul people of Papua New Guinea involves the ability to remember the names of 10,000 to 20,000 clans. The residents of the widely dispersed Caroline Islands incorporate the talent of navigating by the stars into their definition of intelligence. Some cultures do not even have a word that refers to intelligence as most Westerners think of it. For instance, Mandarin Chinese has words for specific abilities, such as wisdom, but not one single word that means, essentially, being smart.

You can try out a culture-fair IQ test for yourself: http://psychologytoday.tests.psychtests.com/

One Month In Hawera

Is June over already?  Julying....

Well, I've now been here a month and feel as if I'm settled in pretty well.  My first week at church I met a lovely woman named Yvonne and before I left that Sunday she made sure to invite me to the Craft Group that meets on Tuesday mornings at the church.  I decided that since I enjoy crafty things and had no other plans that I should attend, even if it wasn't my demographic in terms of age.  The ladies are so lovely and made me feel right at home.  They're all retired and decided that they might as well get out of the house and do some crafting with other ladies than just sit at home.  They do a variety of things, often just bringing along whatever project they're working on, be it cross-stitch or knitting, one woman embroiders greeting cards.  Some weeks they make a craft together, so we made some lovey cards.  Yvonne, who is usually cross-stitching decided I needed something to do every week and brought in some New Zealand cross stitch patterns and is teaching me.  My mom is an amazing cross-stitch-er so I'm praying I inherited some of that so my project is worth keeping once I'm finished.

Yesterday at church, before prayer meeting, I was chatting with Inge.  She's a lovely Zimbabwean woman who I also met my very first week.  Her and her husband are farmers and moved from Zimbabwe to England maybe 12 years ago, and then from England moved here to NZ.  She's part of the music team, which for a small church (I'd guess they have about 50 people in attendance on Sundays) has a lot of people on it, in my opinion.  As most of you know, I tend to sing rather loudly when I sing, and it seems she heard me one week and decided I should join their music roster!  I know how nice it is to not have to be up front every single week, so, it would seem ,that at some point this month I'll be helping give some of the others a break.  Their musicians and singers aren't about to win any awards, but no one cares and I appreciate that.  They're not there to put on a show and most everyone is involved in their services in some way anyway throughout the month; it is a bit hard to explain without it seeming as if it's not an actual church service.  It feels like church, but in a relaxed way.

Yvonne and Margaret (another woman from craft group) both volunteer at the local Hospice Shop, a second-hand store where all the proceeds go towards those in need of hospice care and they asked their manager if it would be ok if I stopped by some mornings to volunteer as well.  Once again, they're mostly retired people, but it is nice to get out and meet people and do some good.  I basically just clean and tag the items (they're already sorted into boxes of a certain price) for someone else to put on a shelf.

Sam, of course, is good company while I'm at home.  Mike and Eileen, along with Val (all friends of the home-owners) are also wonderful people.  Val, the retired chef had a dinner party on Friday night and it was like a Thanksgiving dinner.  As a retired professional culinary professor, she does everything from scratch.  Her dinner rolls: amazing.  Lamb shank, mashed potatoes, and mixed veggies (kumara and beet root): perfectly paired.  Dessert?  Unbelievable and completely over the top.  Ice cream with cherries (home made of course), a cherry-almond torte, and custard.  She'd also made crepes suzette, but not a single one of use could possibly have eaten another bite...  I had stopped by for a chat sometime the week before and she'd just pulled shortbread cookies out of the oven.  I have a weakness for shortbread and she might have spoiled all shortbread cookies from here on out.  I wish I could have recorded our conversation about her training as a chef, it would have made an excellent blog post; she's an impressive woman.

The newest main project is a General Psychology class.  When I first got here I wasn't sure how I was going to fill all my time for three months so I decided to see what options I might have in terms of online classes at BC3.  Since it is summer in the northern hemisphere the school is currently having Fast Track summer courses.  I looked through my transcript and eventually found a class they were offering that I hadn't already taken (and still needed) that sounded interesting.  It has definitely been interesting so far, but has been a bit more time-consuming than I anticipated.  A regular semester crammed into 5 weeks is a bit intense and I am a bit paranoid about getting behind, what with the time difference and due dates, etc.. I'm enjoying all the "random facts" sprinkled throughout the textbook as examples of topics we are covering.  Here are a few:

 The neurotransmitter "Dopamine is related to the personality trait of extroversion (being outgoing and gregarious)..."  Someone at craft group erroneously commented that I'm so outgoing...perhaps solo-travel increases my dopamine levels, because I am definitely not outgoing.

"During World War II, B.F. Skinner trained pigeons to pilot missiles. Although top navy officials just could not accept pigeons piloting their missiles in a war, Skinner congratulated himself on the degree of control he was able to exercise over the pigeons."

"Individuals from Western cultures are more likely to attend to objects in the foreground of scenes (or focal objects), while East Asians looking at the same scenes are more likely to notice aspects of the context. For example, in one study (Masuda & Nisbett, 2001), American and Japanese participants were shown video clips of underwater scenes. When asked to describe what they had seen, the Americans were more likely to talk about the colorful fish swimming around, and Japanese participants were more likely to talk about the locations of objects and aspects of the setting. Such differences have led psychologists to conclude that Westerners take a more analytical orientation, while Asians are more likely to see the big picture. Culture also influences the kinds of stimuli that are missed in inattentional blindness. Research on change blindness (the tendency to miss changes that have occurred in a scene) shows that when objects in the foreground change, Americans are more likely to notice, while Japanese are more likely to notice when changes occur in the context (Masuda & Nisbett, 2006)."

All quotations taken from "Experience Psychology" 3rd Edition

A Drive Down State Highway 43

While visiting the Church of the Good Shepherd, on my Wild Kiwi tour, I met a gentleman whose name I have since forgotten but his suggestions I did not.  In conversation I mentioned that I would be house sitting near New Plymouth.  He then proceeded to tell me of a "lost" highway which takes you through a town (at the time I couldn't understand the name he said) which has declared itself a separate nation from New Zealand.  I was even more intrigued when he told me that it is the only place in the island nation where you will find a road sign "welcoming" you to New Zealand.  I took note of his advice for later, and when I saw a sunny weather forecast for this Saturday I decided to put the dog in the car and head out on a little road trip.

Known as the "Forgotten World Highway" the entire drive is 3 hours, but I only did maybe a quarter of the 155km trail, which is New Zealand's oldest heritage trail.  According to the brochure it "follows ancient Maori trade routes and pioneering farm tracks through ambitious historic settlements, untamed native bush, and stunning natural scenery."  It was such a beautiful, sunny day for a drive and the scenery was top-notch.  As I headed out of Hawera, towards Stratford (the starting town for Highway 43), I had a perfect view of Mount Taranaki.  She's often covered in clouds, or partially hidden behind the clouds, but not this morning!

At Strathmore Saddle lookout, traditionally considered the start of the "back country", I could still see Mt. Taranaki in the distance.  According to the signs, east of there "the dairy farming of the volcanic ring plain and rolling hills and valleys changes to mainly sheep and beef cattle farming" and there had apparently been several plans to tunnel under this "saddle", but they never eventuated.

Strathmore Saddle, with Mt. Taranaki in the background;
the little white dots on the hillside are sheep.

With photo stops at the Pohokura and Whangamomona Saddles I was nearly to my destination.  The further I traveled the more the road seemed to curve and the tighter the curves became.  On one blind curve I saw a camper van coming around the corner, over the line and in my lane.  Because of the sharp bends I wasn't going very fast and I slammed on the brake pedal.  Had the other driver done the same I might have been able to back up far enough to prevent what happened next, but the driver didn't stop.  Time seemed to slow for a moment as I watched him finish coming around the bend, ever closer to the front of the car.  As I realized the vehicles would indeed meet I squeezed my eyes shut, as if not watching would make it not happen.  The woman in the car behind me stopped to assure me that there was nothing I could have done, "you stopped, but he was already in your lane".  My first car accident and it wasn't my car and wasn't my country.  Sam and I were fine, the damage was slight, and thecar was able to be driven.  I can't imagine how much a tow truck out of there would have cost so I had much for which to be thankful.  We exchanged information and headed our separate ways.

Not to be deterred we motored on along and finally saw the sign welcoming us to the Republic of Whangamomona.  The 'wh' in Maori is usually pronounced as an English 'f' sound.  The village was once a bustling frontier town with nearly 300 residents, but by the 1960's the numbers declined to around 20.  In 1989, after a dispute about the redrawing of regional council boundaries, the townspeople declared themselves a republic in protest.  They hold elections for president, but the eligibility rules are rather lenient; Billy Gumboot the Goat, Tai the Poodle, and perhaps the most famous: Murt "Murtle the Turtle" Kennard, have all served as president of the republic.  According to Wikipedia, "the local garage owner fought off strong competition from former president Kjestrup {human}and a cross-dresser called 'Miriam' to become the 4th President. He was re-elected in 2009 by one vote. He was re-elected again in 2011 by a landslide."

My brochure had another interesting fact for me to pass on: "Rugby fans might be keen to know that Whangamomona is the only club in NZ that is allowed to wear an all-black strip - as they had it well before NZ's All Blacks."  I stopped in the hotel for a coffee, and to browse the old photos and town history, before taking Sam for a walk along the train tracks to let him stretch his legs.  The drive back was just as beautiful, but thankfully didn't involve a run-in with a camper van.

Hawera Tiki Tour

I was introduced to the New Zealand term "tiki tour" by my Kiwi tour guide, Jed.  He used the phrase quite often and I gathered that the meaning meant had something to do with not set destination, just a general browse of an area.  Thanks to the internet, now I know its exact meaning: noun,
"NZ a scenic tour of an area".  It's also number nine on this list from the NZ Herald of 15 Kiwi Slang Words.  All that just to explain my blog title, but hey, you never know when that little factoid might prove useful in your life ;)

Val, a friend of Gill and James (for whom I'm house-pet sitting), invited me to her home last evening for a little get together.  She's a retired chef from Auckland, immigrated from the UK (Liverpool, I believe) years ago, and moved to Hawera around the same time as Gill.  At the party I met several people and one of the couples was Allan and Carol.  I had meant to be leaving the party, but got stuck talking to Allan in the kitchen.  I literally mean stuck, he is rather chatty and I couldn't find a decent break in the conversation to politely make my departure.  Anyway, he was born and raised here but has traveled quite extensively around the world (40 countries was the count he gave me), so at least we were talking about a subject I enjoyed.  Shortly before his wife decided it was time to head home he invited to me to go on his school bus route in the morning to see what he has nicknamed "The Green Canyon".  He claimed the landscape variety within the drive was spectacular and unlike anything you normally see.  It seemed impolite to say no, and besides, it's not like I really had anything else to do and would most likely never go to this area on my own anyway.

At 7:25 am this morning I met him at his house and we climbed in the van and headed off.  As we headed out of Hawera (population about 11,000 according to Allan) we were in dairy country - very flat, as you can see in the below photo.

One of the major employers in this area is Fonterra Dairy Co-operative, Allan even has a story about a time he was in China and told people he was from NZ and their response was "Fonterra!".   As we drove, the landscape changed considerably once we headed east.  The roads were now incredibly windy and with the sun coming up over the clouds and hills it was quite a beautiful morning.  He was able to quickly stop for a moment (we had kids to pick up and a schedule to keep) at Mangaminigi Saddle so I could get a photo; it was an amazing view.  I found this video online of some drone footage that gives you a look at some of what I saw (and the road I was on): Taranaki Mangamingi.

He picks up 3 elementary children who live on farms way out "in the sticks" as we would say, or as the Kiwis say: "in the wop wops". They mostly raise sheep in this area, but of course there are some cattle as well.  We even drove past the area where they hold the NZ Dog Trials for Taranaki.  The family of one of the girls he picks up helps with the trials and she told me they had 30 entrants this year and it was a 2-day event.  It was an interesting way to spend a morning and Allan certainly had plenty of facts and things of interest to point out along the way.