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Showing posts from April, 2011

Distraction and Renewal in Wellys

Distraction and Renewal in Wellys Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia! Our triumphant holy day, Alleluia! It's Easter Sunday, and I'm standing in a pew at St. John's church – not my St. John's in Spokane, Washington, but St. John's in the City in Wellington, New Zealand. http://www.stjohnsinthecity.org.nz/ The name is about the closest we'll come to our home parish for awhile. Who did once upon the cross, Alleluia! Suffer to redeem our loss. Alleluia! I've sang this hymn ever since I was a kid in junior choir at St. Peter's Episcopal in Ashtabula, Ohio. Maybe you know it, too. Hum a few bars. I'll wait... Hymns of praise then let us sing, Alleluia! Unto Christ, our heavenly king, Alleluia! I'm thinking about all the years I've sung this song, and what's happened during those years: marriage, 2 babies, death, grief, hope, and now – renewal. And I'm fighting back tears. "Don't cry," I tell myself. "

Welly-Hood

Welly-Hood I'm sitting on the bed of a backpacker's (hostel) in downtown Wellington. The place could be described as a rat hole. Only you don't bring your two small children to spend the night (actually, 2 nights) in a rat hole, so I won't label "Wellywood," (yes, that's its real name) until we after we leave. Our tiny cell - I mean, room - includes a double bed (for the kids) and a single (for me). The walls are painted pea green and yellow and un-decorated with scuffs, nicks and paint chips. The tan carpet is frayed and stained. The bathroom's down the hall and appears clean, although I haven't showered there yet, so maybe I should reserve judgement for later. We weren't supposed to stay here. I booked us online into the YHA (Youth Hostel Association) hostel a couple blocks away. The 300-bed mix of dorm-style and private room accomodation has a reputation as one of the best hostels in the world, with clean, new facilities, spacious common a

Fish On! (and Off)

Fish On! (and Off) The kids and I enjoyed our first Kiwi fishing trip yesterday morning in Mt. Maunganui's Pilot Bay with our former neighbor, Pete. He's an ace angler who consistently lands dozens of fish in a single trip, then gifts friends and neighbors platefuls of fillets (pronounced "FILL-uhts" here). I've been keen to snare my own snapper from the first bite of Pete's fresh fish. So Fiona, Finley and I climbed into Pete's aluminum boat, named after a beach in India (whose name escapes me), to land our own fillets. Fiona foreshadowed the trip's outcome during a pre-fishing stop to the bait shop. "Oh," she said. "That's to feed the fish." Indeed, we got skunked - we fed the snapper other fish, plus calamari - the snapper didn't feed us.(In the interest of full disclosure, Pete did all the baiting and re-baiting - all the work. My job was keeping the fishing poles and the kids from falling overboard). Fi and Finn bot

Bella, Bella

Dawn, Bella, Jade Bella, Bella – Soundtrack of Our Lives "I'll go wherever you are" -Bella Kalolo I saw New Zealand singer/songwriter Bella Kalolo and her band, the Soul Symphony, in concert in Tauranga tonight. She opened the 49 th annual National Jazz Festival. I didn't know anything about Bella before attending the concert aside from what I'd read online: "Bella Kalolo is New Zealand's answer to Tina Turner and Chaka Khan." Okay, I'm interested. The write-up included nouns like "funk" and adjectives like "soulful." Sign me up (rather, charge my credit card). You can hear Bella by scrolling to the bottom of this page and clicking the "play" arrow: http://www.jazz.org.nz/festival-programme/concert-series/bella-kalolo-and-the-soul-symphony I met my friend, Jade, at Baycourt Theatre for the show. We had a close, clear view of the stage from the venue's graduated seats. Those seats are stacked so tightly o

How do They do That? Teaching Reading and Writing in NZ

I love Dad He plas with me We love you Hope yrer haven fun in the hivin Yrer in my hrt Yrer with me - Finley, age 5, all by himself How do They do That? Teaching Reading and Writing in NZ I recently got a message via Facebook from a teacher friend in the U.S., and the proud mum in me wants to share. Also, I'm very, very tired tonight, so this message kills 2 Tui birds with 1 feijoa fruit - blog post, done! ...I am amazed by Finley's writing ability. HOW did they teach him to do this in 3 months? The teacher in me is truly in awe. I have taken a few NZ classes on reading and writing, and I love their techniques. What is your view on the process? Are they writing a ton every day? Is Fiona doing the same work? This is definitely first grade level here in the states. -Alicia Response:  I'm very glad you asked early on about teaching methods in NZ, because your question made me pay more attention to methodology than I otherwise would have. I volunteer once

Photo Shoot Pics - During and After

Photo Shoot

Photo Shoot The kids and I had professional pictures taken at the beach today in Mt. Maunganui. I've shot hundreds, maybe thousands of photos of Fiona and Finley on our world tour. I've tried to stretch my arm an extra few inches, dozens of times, to snap myself. But there's something about having a pro take the shots. They look better, and I get to make an appearance without asking a passerby: "Please take a picture; It's the silver button on top." Invariably, Passerby will stand way back and snap the photo. It's the wide-shot version of our lives. The slightly askew version. Sometimes, you want the well-framed close up. I asked my friend, Jade, to recommend a Bay of Plenty photographer. She suggested Bridget Nickel. http://www.bridgetnickelphotography.com/ Bridget's website shows smiling families at the beach; around a tractor; on a trampoline. It's the kind of slice-of-real-life photography I found at home in Spokane from pros like Nikki Bey

Hangi-Over

Hangi-Over Unearthing lunch from the garden The hangi's finished. Out of the ground and into our stomachs. The kids and I attended our first backyard hangi yesterday. A hangi is a traditional Maori (native New Zealand peoples) way of cooking food. Dig a hole in the ground, throw down rocks and light a fire. In a metal basket, add chicken, pork, lamb and beef, plus pumpkin, kumura (sweet potato) and potato wrapped in aluminum (which is pronounced "al-yoo-MIN-ee-um") foil. Cover with sheets, blankets, burlap. Shovel dirt back over your feast, and let it cook 4 hours. Imagine visiting your neighbor for a meal. The neighbor says, "Dinner's in the backyard. Come watch me dig it up." That's exactly what this hangi looked like. Among the rows of lettuce, celery and whatever else was growing in the garden, sat a mound of dirt. And under that mound – lunch for 2 dozen people. It's one thing to don mitts and remove a roast from the oven – quite another t

Kiwi Barbecue

Kiwi Barbecue Carl at the grill I hosted my first "Hey-bring-the-whole-family-too-many-people-stuffed-into-a-house" dinner party tonight. What started as an invitation for my friend, Jade, and her family, morphed into, "Maybe I should invite some other folks and make it a party." I'm going to blame Sean for that one. Without fail, any get-together at our home was preceded by, "Hey, why don't we also invite..." Sean flicked out that suggestion anywhere from 1 week to 1 hour before the event. I figure he saw it as a way to reconnect with friends we hadn't seen in awhile, and to connect those friends to each other. He was like a crochet needle, looping one person in with the next, in with the next... Feeding the hungry rascals Anyways, tonight's dinner for 7 became a barbecue for 20. Don't tell my flatmate – it's her house (this is a joke, because she often reads this blog, and knew about the party beforehand). I asked Helen,

Rugby Night

Rugby Night Rugby warm-up: Chiefs vs. Crusaders I attended my first rugby game tonight, at the invitation of my friend, Louise. The Waikato Chiefs played the Canterbury Crusaders (of Christchurch). Crusaders won. It was much like a sporting event in the U.S.: Shout for your team; watch cheerleaders between game periods; drink another beer. Just like in the States, I had no clue about who was doing what with the ball and how many points would result. The point, for me, is the social interaction. Meet people, talk, learn something new. One of my friend's friends I met for the first time tonight asked if I'd been happy here in New Zealand. "Delirious," I said. That's a natural state of mind, I suppose, when you're not working (although I still have small children to care for and they require, indeed, plenty of work), are still soaking up a new environment, and sun shines nearly every day. Of course I'm happy. Who wouldn't be happy? I've always