Thought of the Day 14/02/2015: Christchurch Thus Far

Link to Christchurch Pics

Since I’ve run out of clean underwear I’m doing laundry, I thought I’d take this opportunity to actually sit down to use my computer for something other than applying to jobs en masse. It’s my fourth full day in Christchurch and my only reason for being a bit disappointed is that I haven’t gone hiking yet. Without a car, I’m pretty much stuck in Christchurch Central unless I want to pay over $300 to take a tour through a company and it wouldn’t even include any real hiking. So I’ve decided the smart thing to do is wait until I’ve completed payments on Hank so we can go where-ever, and do whatever, we want for no more than the cost of Petrol and protein bars.

In the meantime my days have been a consistent schedule of applying to jobs all morning, then either shopping or just walking around in the afternoon. Yesterday I took my first jog and sat down for a bit to meditate, it was glorious! I happened across one of my favorite things, a cemetery, which had a great little path and I also ran along the north portion of the creek, called Avon, that runs through Christchurch; the same one I walk south along to get to Christchurch central each day.

One of the most interesting things about Christchurch is that it was completely leveled by an earthquake and its subsequent aftershocks. Consequently, this city has two faces and which one sees is completely dependent on the seer; beauty or ruin, it’s a choice everyone must make for them selves. Along the Avon River they’ve done a lot of landscaping and it’s absolutely breathtaking in portions. There are also many neat re-building projects that illustrate the on-going plans for future of Christchurch. Conversely, if one were to look downtown one would see abundant cranes, construction, dust and rubble remaining from the many buildings that have not yet been assessed for reconstruction. It’s actually really endearing; here’s a city that needs some serious TLC and the locals are administering it in droves. One of the people who work at the hostel accentuated this by stating that, in a way, the earthquake was the best thing to happen to Christchurch. Prior to that devastating event the community was that of a hustling bustling city, no one was invested in their own society and there was no cohesion. Nothing can unite people like a natural disaster, however, and such is Christchurch. Though a large portion left, everyone who remained to re-build are those who care about their city and community. These people are profoundly kind and caring, as well as extremely grateful for the tourists who come to the city despite its unsightly and loud construction. I would be happy to stay here. Indeed, I’ve folded into life almost seamlessly and feel very comfortable here.

 

Beautiful Avon River Terrace Walkway!

No So Beautiful Construction

Decidedly Ugly

Being abroad has made one thing clear to me, as much as I like to fancy myself nothing like a typical America, my general mannerisms are laughably typical of American behavior. Almost everyday I find myself saying sorry to someone to an authentic response of ‘Why?’ The first time made me stop and think about why I had apologized; the second time I just laughed and said ‘I’m not sure.’ Both instances were situations where I was doing something in an area that someone else also needed access to, and I apologized because I felt I was in their way. This confused the others since I was there first.

Another occurrence I found a bit disturbing took place on my third night. Each night I get two new roomies, some male some female, some young some older. On this night there was an older lady, I said hi and she reciprocated and I instantly knew she was American. We chatted for a bit and with each passing sentence I felt more resentment; I was reminded that I left these people behind for a reason. Complain, bitch, gripe. Now, I’m fully aware that not all Americans are like this, but it’s a fairly common characteristic and one I exhibit as well: The Control Freak. We bitch because something happened that we couldn’t control and it upset us. Yet this interaction actually served to improve my own self esteem since I reflected and observed that since being here I’ve really given it my best to alter my thinking, throw up my hands and give that control over to my Higher Power, choosing enjoy my day-to-day journey instead of stressing; and it’s working! Yesterday I ran for however long I felt with little regard as to what I ate either before or after, meditated without setting a timer, it’s been almost 3 weeks since I counted calories simply eating what I feel like when I feel like eating, and though I’m applying to jobs like a mad woman but I’m not obsessing over responses because I feel confident that something will work out. This woman lost her shit because she couldn’t get bus tickets at the time she wanted or to where she wanted, and I had to hear about it literally all-night. The old Me would’ve likely responded the same way, but the new Me thinks that is not my bus so I need to wait and see which one will take me where I need to go, regardless of where I think I should go. People can scoff at my reliance on such a Higher Power, the one in real control, and probably think I’m crazy to boot. Yet if anything in this universe can give me relief from the constant stress I feel when I attempt to control everything, and do a piss-poor job of it, then I don’t give a shit about what others think. Instead I choose to be thankful for my new way of thinking. My ongoing ambition, however, is to listen more and talk less. I figure since moved here to change, I need to listen to effectively learn what others have to teach me.

Last night I was determined to finally venture out and have a celebratory drink in honor of successfully leaving the US. Per the suggestion of the hostel hostess, I went along Victoria street to a cool outside bar. I ordered a local pear cider and sipped it while awkwardly sitting in a shopping cart-turned seat next to a couple of post-work construction laborers and a dude playing pop hits on an acoustic guitar. The crowd composition was very interesting; there were young professionals, groups of older people, the aforementioned construction workers, and randos who didn’t seem to be from any particular group. I noticed a women, likely in her mid to late-30s, go to an inside area because she was cold, so I decided to introduce myself and sit with her. I’m very glad I did! She was from Sydney, there with her husband and another couple all of whom were originally from Wellington, but now also lived in Sydney. She invited me back to their table outside and they bought me another drink. We spent the next couple of hours laughing and talking. I enjoyed the sensation of finding a kindred spirit in the other women at the table, as we were each as loud and inappropriate as the other. They all stressed that as a young single professional I should go to Wellington, which reminds me to apply to some jobs there later today. Happily my social night unexpectedly continued when I returned to the hostel and met my new roommates for the night, two extremely affable Germans who could not believe it when I told them that the luggage in the room was all I brought with me to start a life abroad. We got on famously as I spoke to them of my love for all things German, as well as my potential plans for living there someday. We’re going out to dinner tonight since it’s the last night they’ll be in New Zealand and they wanted a nice meal as a send-off; I’m always up for a good food and good conversation!

In conclusion, here are some other random facts:

- The sun here is brutal, and it took me far too long to relent and buy some sunscreen or don a hat. I fear greatly for my already thin hair hairline because my scalp is about to peel off in chunks.

- Decaf coffee is damn near impossible to find.

- Its windier here than in Kansas.

- Apparently it’s not that uncommon to want to leave ones Country of origin. Though people don’t always understand why I want to be an American ex-patriot, neither do I understand why they wanted to leave the UK or Germany; even Stevens.

- There’s peanut butter here! Someone lied to me in that regard, but they were not kidding about the cost of chicken (crazy expensive) or the size of the produce (tiniest apples I’ve ever seen).

- Constipation seems to be a serious medical illness here because buying medicine from the pharmacy was quite and ordeal, which involved them taking my passport information as well as lecturing me about proper use of the drug.