Where are all the Kiwis?

One of the reasons that I chose to take my bar trip to New Zealand last year was because I decided that if I was going to be traveling by myself it would be a whole lot easier if I could at least speak the language. Officially, New Zealand has two national languages, English and Maori (pronounced M OW (like cow) REE). Although Maori is an official language it isn’t actually spoken by most of the population and therefore the knowledge of English is sufficient for everything but the ability to pronounce many of the town names in the north island which has traditionally been the Maori stronghold in the country. Even so, the only Maori pronunciation that you really need to know is that a “wh” makes the “f” sound. This makes for some very entertaining town names such as Whakatane, Whakamaru, Whakapapa and Whakawerawera. I am going to leave you to work out for yourselves why those names are so funny. Wait for it. Bingo. Native English speaking 10 year olds the world over and I find that hysterical.

Now, George Bernard Shaw said that the England and America are two countries separated by a common language and New Zealand would work into that equation just as well (as would Australia and I am going to throw in a few of their words too just for fun). Let us begin today’s lesson, class, with the word flip flop or sandal, if you will. You all know that a flip-flop is a lightweight, often times, plastic shoe that you slip onto your foot. In New Zealand, these are referred to as jandals, short, I am told, for Japanese sandals. Even better, in Australia they are called thongs; yes thongs. Can I borrow your thongs is, in fact, a socially acceptable question to ask in Australia. But enough with the vocabulary lesson for today lets move on to a quick kiwi speak pronunciation guide. A rather tasty fast food meal here in New Zealand is fish and chips, or as it is pronounced in Kiwi speak, fush (more like fuss than push) and chups (like up). It’s the letter “i” that seems to give the people of this country such trouble. Six tends to sound like sex and sex like six, which can make for quite a confusing conversation for the uninitiated. Imagine if you will, that you ask a gentleman for the time and he responds that it is sex o’clock. Of course, you are rightly horrified and make a disgusted face because all you have done is ask for the time. How dare he… oh, right! He isn’t being a presumptuous jerk. He means six o’clock. He just can’t speak properly. A word of warning however, Queenstown being the party town that most vacation destinations are, he could really mean sex o’clock. This only applies to Kiwis, not the English guy at the pub who says the same thing.

But it isn’t enough in Queenstown to be able to translate Kiwi English. You must also be able to speak other varying forms of English from Australian to Irish to English to Scottish to Welsh and occasionally even American English. Some of these come more easily than others. Those from southern England tend to have the English accent that we have all heard on TV and in movies and are not too difficult to decipher. Northern England, on the other hand, can be at times incomprehensible and it seems that no matter how long they have been away from Yorkshire, the accent still remains as thick as ever. Scottish is an acquired skill, one that you will not, however, be able to pick up by watching Braveheart, as a real Scottish brogue is significantly different despite Mel Gibson’s best efforts. Irish really depends on what part of Ireland the person is from but I get all of my Irish accent translation knowledge from Danny Bhoy anyway (Fiddle dee dee potatoes).

Even after you have mastered the differing dialects from all of the native English speaking countries, your work is still not through. To truly be able to fully assimilate into Queenstown, you must also be a master at understanding English from non-native English speakers. This is oftentimes where the greatest challenge lies. Being a typical American, I speak only English and the tiniest bit of French, not even Spanish. Two of my roommates, on the other hand, are a Brazilian couple (Michelle and Carlos) and speak very little English. They are so nice though and we all attempt to have a conversation each time that we are home together. Michelle has only been speaking English for four months and I must admit that she is doing a whole lot better than I would be doing in her shoes. We were watching Oprah today (don’t judge me, I am unemployed and you are supposed to watch Oprah when you are unemployed and home during the day) and she was doing so well with English that it has inspired me. I think that I am going to attempt to learn to speak Portuguese. Actually, let’s be honest, its not likely that I will learn any Portuguese but right now it sure does sound like a good idea. The Brazilians are such a fun people! Think of all the salsa dancing and carnival. Doesn’t that sound like fun? When Michelle speaks in English she comes across as a bit shy and soft-spoken, but all of that changes when her husband walks in the door and the Portuguese comes out. She is loud and full of life going ninety miles a minute. I love it! I just with I had a clue what she was talking about.

Queenstown, New Zealand and its surrounding area has a population of around 11,000. Of those 11,000, I would venture to guess that at least 2,000 are backpackers who came here on a holiday and just haven’t managed to leave yet. Why haven’t they left? Several reasons. The reason that many write home to mom and dad is that they have fallen in love with this place, either its natural beauty or its many adventure sports. A very few have fallen in love in this place. Although, love here is like love in University. It may be passionate and meaningful from day one, but it rarely lasts through the summer. The biggest reason that many backpackers end up staying, however, is one that they don’t often share with friends and family. A not insignificant number stay because they don’t have enough money to go anywhere else. It’s not the case that Queenstown is less expensive than other areas of the country, just the opposite, in fact. It’s not that they are able to make more money working in Queenstown. Again, just the opposite is true. What seems most often to happen is that any money that is made above and beyond the ordinary living expenses gets used on a big night out or one of those adventure activities that draws everyone in here like a moth to the flame to begin with. Those things that everyone loves most about Queenstown are exactly what is keeping them tied to this place.

That being said, there is still a relatively high turnover of people, which also makes for a relatively high turnover of jobs. Theoretically, this means that finding a job here is simple. Yes and no. It is by no means difficult to find a job in Queenstown. There are adverts for jobs everywhere. You can get a job as a cleaner in a hotel by walking into any job agency as long as you aren’t so drunk that you cant stand and you don’t smell like you have been living in a trash can, although I am certain that some places don’t even require the latter. Here is the problem. Distraction! There are so many other things to do here that for some reason finding a job keeps falling down on the priority list. Goal one upon arriving in Queenstown was to find a place to live. Done within the first two days. But goal two was always supposed to be finding a job to be able to pay for that cute little house without having to dip very far into the savings account. So, why then have I managed to go almost 5 days now without even beginning to look for a job? I will tell you why. The sun has been out and the skies have been blue and there are mountains to be climbed and lakes to be walked around and people to see and talk to and beaches to be sat on and parks to be sat in and finding a job just keeps getting pushed to tomorrow.

Well today is tomorrow, the fourth tomorrow, that is. I have resorted to bribing myself with the purchase of a new blow dryer as soon as I find a job (I blew my original one up not 24 hours after I arrived. It was a very painful experience as I was overly attached to that poor blow dryer and will miss it dearly. Its death was meaningless and stupid and I will never forgive myself for forgetting to use the voltage converter). So, today is the day that I will conquer the Queenstown job market once and for all. Beware all you available positions… I’m coming for you!

So, I moved in to my new place today and I love it! (I posted the pics on facebook) But that’s not what you need to know right now. What you need to know is that to my surprise, I have a TV in my room. Well you probably didn’t really need to know about that either, but here is something that you should know that will shock you. There are only three major channels in New Zealand. When I say that there are only three channels, I don’t mean that its like in the US where there are the four major network channel that you can get without cable or satellite and hundreds of other channels available. I mean that even with the TV hooked up into a satellite dish thingy, there are only three channels. Now, rumor has it that if you pay a fortune for SKY TV you can get five or six more channels, but still, that’s it. However, the lack of channels is not really what I wanted to tell you about other than as background information for why what happened was even more shocking than it should have been.

While unpacking my stuff in my new room (Which is fabulous! Did I mention that yet?) I turned on the TV (cause it was there and I could). I flipped through my three channels before settling on channel 2. Why? Who knows. All three channels were doing the evening news and I guess the reporters on channel 2 just looked a little bit more genuine or honest or something. Regardless, I left it on channel 2. After a little while, the news ended and surprisingly, Extreme Makeover Home Edition came on next. Ok, that’s kind of odd I guess because I am in New Zealand and watching an American TV show, but whatever, they don’t have that many Kiwi programs to choose from so its inevitable that there will occasionally be an American program on. Here’s the kicker though. Extreme Makeover was doing a home for a family in Mobile, Alabama. What?!? I just left that place to come to the other side of the world only to watch my hometown on TV! They even showed the USA football team and cheerleaders and I saw people that I knew. Is this really happening? Is Ty really driving down Airport Boulevard? The world is getting entirely too small and I am now officially afraid. Its frightening that only the second time that I have turned on the TV since getting back into New Zealand, that the show is about Mobile.

For those who aren’t that familiar with Mobile, you should just know that there are less than 350,000 people living there and while it is a lovely little city, it’s not exactly the kind of place that makes it on TV even in the US that often unless there is a hurricane. The fact that it was on TV, not only in the US, but also in New Zealand is a hard concept for me to grasp. And the fact that I was actually watching the TV at the exact moment that it came on in New Zealand is even more shocking! That’s it, no more TV.

After some consideration, it became apparent that the title of this blog, “Where are all the kiwis?” may need some explanation. First of all, New Zealanders, whether they be the native Maoris or of European decent are lovingly referred to as Kiwis. Why Kiwi you may ask. Are they small, round, brown and hairy with green insides like the fruit? While some of them actually may be round, brown and hairy, the term kiwi refers not to the delicious fruit that mixes so lovely with strawberries and bananas in a smoothie, but to the kiwi bird. Sadly, the yummy kiwi fruit isn’t even grown in New Zealand.

So, what on earth is a kiwi bird and why would they name a bird after a fruit that doesn’t even grown in New Zealand? While the latter, I’m afraid, I have no good answer for; the kiwi bird is a small, brown, flightless (or so I’ve been told) bird that is native to New Zealand and has become somewhat of the mascot of this country. Its strange, however, that they have chosen the kiwi to represent their nation being that it is almost completely extinct in the wild and can only be viewed in kiwi nature reserves or on the many tourist souvenirs that are sold on every street corner. Sadly, the kiwi bird seems to be disappearing from all but the hearts of the locals.

Finally, and most interestingly, “Where are all the kiwis?” refers to the fact that there seem to be very few native New Zealanders actually living in New Zealand. It seems almost everyone that you meet, at least in Queenstown, is foreign. The population of Queenstown is 25% Brazilian. Brazilian?!? Why? Are the kiwi people, like the kiwi bird, becoming extinct? Or are they simply hiding somewhere in the North Island? In total, I have met maybe seven people who were actually born in New Zealand. Of those seven, three have spent more of their lives living outside of New Zealand than within. In contrast, since being in Queenstown, I have met twenty-one from the UK, eleven from Australia, five from France, four from Brazil, four from Canada, two from Holland, one Romanian and one other American (I apologize in advance if I have forgotten anyone or put you in the wrong category). It is understandable that being a tourist town, Queenstown will have a high percentage of foreign residents, but doesn’t it also follow that at least some Kiwis would still be here? This is one of my quests while here, to find out “Where are all the kiwis?”

Welcome one and all to the wild wonderful adventure that is living in New Zealand. This place is unlike any other that I have ever experienced. And thats just what it is, an experience. From skydiving to bungy jumping to canyon swinging to skiing to just sitting in a pub or hanging out in a poorly insulated cabin, Queenstown is a mecca of life experiences and adventures. My hope is to use this blog to share some of my stories and exploits from this utterly breathtaking locale with my friends and family who haven’t yet had the priviledge of visiting.

I make no promises that I will post everyday or that it will be as entertaining as that blog about Julia Child (I doubt there will ever be a cooking entry in this blog) and I appologize ahead of time to everyone for my inability to spell. But I hope that it will be able to give you a fuller understanding of my adventures here and why I decided to run away to the otherside of the world instead of embarking on a career in law. There is no doubt in my mind that these next several months will be filled with excitement and drama and maybe even, do I dare to admit, fear as I try to figure out how to make my way in this incredibly international city in this small country in the south Pacific. I submit for your entertainment… Where are all the Kiwis?