A Maori Thanksgiving

One of the things I really wanted to do in New Zealand was to learn about Maori culture. Thanks to a generous Christmas gift from my parents, Jasson and I were able to splurge on some tickets to the Tamaki Maori Village, which included a tour, performance, and meal.

We and about a hundred other tourists gathered at the entrance to the village. A staff member asked us to remain somber and respectful during the welcoming ceremony. The sound of drums and chanting slowly emerged from the brush. A Maori warrior ran out in to the clearing, and performed a kind of dance with a spear - a show of strength and agility to properly awe us and put us in our place before allowing us into the village.

More warriors joined him, and women appeared and joined in with the chanting, until it was very loud and they were all stomping their feet to the rhythm.

Then the chief of the village came forward and welcomed us, in English and Maori. He then invited us into the village.

Inside the village there were various huts where the villagers were giving demonstrations on Maori culture, including crafts, dances, games and tattoos.

Then the chief gathered us around the hangi pit. A hangi is a traditional earth oven. From what I understood, a hole is dug in the earth, then filled with burning wood and hot volcanic rocks. Trays of meat and vegetables are placed in the pit, then covered with wet cloth and earth, and left to cook for several hours. Staff members unearthed the trays of food and carried them away to the kitchen to be prepared.

Next we entered a performance hall, where the villagers performed some traditional songs and dances for us for about 20 minutes.

Finally we were brought into the meal hall where an all-you-can-eat hangi buffet was waiting for us! There was lamb, chicken, fish, potatoes, sweet potatoes, carrots, stuffing, cranberry sauce and dinner rolls.

It was all good, but the potatoes, you guys. The potatoes. And the yams. They were soft and had such an exquisite smoky, earthy flavor. Sour cream and chives would be an insult to these potatoes, they were so good on their own. Two weeks later and I am still daydreaming about them.

I will never be the same.

Potatoes.

As Jasson and I stuffed ourselves on all this delicious food, we realized: this was our Thanksgiving. We had missed out on American Thanksgiving this year, so we got a Maori one instead.

At our table we were seated next to a beautiful young couple with tan skin and brilliant blonde hair. "I bet they're Swedish," I thought. I introduced myself and asked where they were from.

"We're from Sweden," they said.

Go me.

Then the staff members graced us with a "traditional closing ceremony," which consisted of the bus drivers on staff singing "You Are My Sunshine" with guitar accompaniment and clapping. It was...unexpected. But whatever, I was still high on potatoes.

Whitewater Rafting; Jasson Smiles in the Face of Danger

Last week Jasson and I went whitewater rafting on the Wairoa River, which is a class 5 river. That means they're the gnarliest rapids available for human rafting.

Jasson and I first went whitewater rafting a few months ago in Oregon, which was a class 3 and 4 river. So we felt pretty confident in our rafting skills and ready to take on this challenge.

Our guide, Brett, made it clear to everyone that these rapids were serious and possibly fatal. In order to survive our trip we needed to follow his orders with military precision and urgency. In a calm area of the river we practiced rowing, ducking into the bottom of the raft, how to pull others into the raft from the water, and how to cling to a raft that has flipped over. He drilled us until started to work together as a unit with a reasonable amount of speed, then we set off.

I knew Jasson enjoyed whitewater rafting, but I didn't realize how much he enjoyed it until I saw these photos.

Here we approach one of our biggest rapids.

That's Jasson and I in the front. Let's zoom in on our expressions, shall we?

Smiling!

Still smiling!

Still smiling!

HE IS STILL SMILING!

Three people in our raft died that day.

Just kidding. After two hours of incredibly intense rapids, including me being almost thrown out of the raft...(that's me in the back this time)

...we made it safely to the end where some BBQ hamburgers were waiting for us.

Conservation is Genocide

Jasson and I went ziplining in Rotorua. We were in the treetops of a native forest, filled with the lush vegetation that makes up the background of everyday life in New Zealand.

During our tour around the forest, our guides told us about the environmental history of New Zealand, which I found pretty fascinating.

New Zealand has exactly one species of native mammal: a bat. That's it. Before human settlement, New Zealand was an island owned and run by birds. Countless numbers of bird species - so many of them that European explorers reported being able to hear birdsong two miles out to sea. (Even today, sometimes I am woken up early in the morning by the songs of birds out my window.) Because there were few predators on the ground, many of these birds are flightless.

Maori settlers hunted a few bird species to extinction, but the biggest hit came when Europeans brought rats, rabbits, possums and stoats to the island. Without any natural predators they quickly overran the place. And in the case of rats, possums and stoats, they became extremely aggressive and began eating native birds and bird eggs. Many of New Zealand's bird species, including their beloved kiwi birds, are seriously endangered.

This zipline course is run by an environmental group, which uses the profits from the zipline tours to run a campaign of genocide against these invasive species. They set hundreds of traps in this forest for possums, rats and stoats. They showed us how these traps work, and even proudly showed us photos of dozens of dead possums and rat bodies lined up on a sidewalk, the results of their first week of efforts. "We even caught a stoat!" they pointed out, very proudly.

When you think of environmental conservation, you don't usually think of slaughtering animals. But in New Zealand, that's what it means. And judging by the amount of roadkill I see on the highways, Kiwi motorists are certainly doing their part.

Anyway. We got to zip upside-down, which was pretty awesome. I felt like Spiderman.

Afterwards Jasson and I went to a local bakery where we splurged on a gigantic soft pretzel.

It was so good. I don't know about Jasson, but for me personally this soft pretzel has been the highlight of my New Zealand experience so far.

Blue Springs are Blue

Believe me, it's true: I did not increase the saturation on any of these photos. Once again New Zealand blows our minds with its color palette. If this was a landscape painting class the professor would say, "those are tube colors. Real colors don't look like that, you should mix your own paints rather than relying on tube colors" and New Zealand is like the rebellious art student who's all "YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO"

(That passage made sense in my head)

Last week Jasson and I traveled to Rotorua. It was only an hour long drive, so we had time to stop at a creek called Blue Springs. The water in this creek is so pure and clear that it's a crystal aquamarine color that's just...I dunno. I've never seen anything like it.

This spring supplies the majority of New Zealand's bottled water. According to the internet, this water is so perfect, it doesn't even need to be treated before being distributed. I don't know how that's possible, but I'll believe anything New Zealand tells me at this point.

Jasson and I sat by the bank of the creek and ate sandwiches for lunch.

Then we continued our drive to Rotorua. Our Airbnb hosts are a very handsome couple with a cute little toddler. We are staying in a loft above their garage. It's a nice little apartment with our own bathroom and kitchenette, but the ceiling is so low that it's only a few inches above Jasson's head at the tallest point.

Rotorua is located on top of a lot of geothermal activity. On the plus side, that means there are lots of natural hot springs around. On the other hand, the whole city smells strongly of sulfur. Like, really strong.

There is so much fun stuff to do in Rotorua that Jasson and I have been really splurging on activities. Next week we're moving to a small town which has, as far as I can tell, nothing particularly touristy going for it. (We're going there because we found a super cheap Airbnb place.) So next week we should get more work done. This week is fun week.

Kawhia Hot Pools

Jasson and I love hot tubs. We heard about an area of New Zealand called Coromandel. There's a special beach where if you dig a hole into the sand, hot water will seep up from the ground, creating a natural hot tub. It's so popular that on a good day, people will be lying all over the beach like seals at Fisherman's Wharf.

Jasson and I really wanted to experience this, but the area was pretty far north of us. However, our b&b host told us that were was another hot pool beach nearby, virtually unknown to tourists, in a tiny beach town called Kawhia. (Pronounced KAW-fee-yuh.)

We drove one and a half hours over a twisty mountain range (very stressful for Jasson) to get to this beach town.

We arrived in Kawhia, which was indeed a tiny little town. The library, which I regret I did not get a picture of, was about the size of a shed. We found the beach without too much trouble and were giddy to find that we had it completely to ourselves!

According to our b&b host, you can't dig just anywhere and expect hot water to appear. There are special spots. First of all you have to go at low tide. Secondly, look for three signs:

1. Steam rising from the sand
2. A sulfur smell
3. A warm feeling under your feet

Shovel in hand, Jasson and I started walking along the beach towards an area where we thought we saw some steam.

After about 10 minutes, a guy on a 4-wheeler drove up to us. "Looking for the hot pools? They're back that way," he said. So we turned around, and after a bit more walking we noticed a faint smell of sulfur.

Jasson found a patch of sand that looked like it had been dug up before. Just a little digging and the hot water came up, and wow was it hot! Almost as hot as a real jacuzzi. The sand that we dug up was steaming.

The local guy on the 4-wheeler came back around to check on our progress. He even helped dig for a while, and speculating on ways to reinforce the walls of the pool. His name was Morris, and he looked young but had tanned, leathery skin. He liked to use the word "true," as if it meant "cool" or "ok."

Me: My name is Kelley.

Morris: True, true.

Me: We're from California.

Morris: True.

Me: Check out our pool! It's pretty hot!

Morris: *steps in pool* True!

Then a group of four college students from New York, who had been studying abroad in Australia, came over to us. We widened our pool and all six of us stretched out in it, steaming ourselves and until we were as warm and smelly as hard-boiled eggs.

Jasson and I look happy in this photo because at that point we had no idea how sunburnt we were.

Next we went to the famous Waitomo Glowworm Caves, where we did UNDERGROUND INNER TUBING. It was amazing! Obviously I was unable to take photos, so I think I might make some illustrations for the sake of the blog.

I'm on a Waterfall

See that waterfall?

We totally hiked to the top. That's right, from the ground.

It was a beautiful hike, with mossy boulders, palm trees, and sturdy bridges over the stream.

At times it was also very, very steep.

This was the halfway point, which took us about 45 minutes to reach.

Here it is again, with some geeks for scale:

We hiked up the muddy, slippery slopes for another 45 minutes.  As we worked our way towards the waterfall, the air became very cool and damp. It was also strangely quiet and devoid of wildlife - we saw no animals except for a few birds. No snakes, squirrels, lizards or even slugs. It was kind of strange. There were a few other hikers, including a few people who were actually running up the mountain - unbelievable. At one point there was a sign pointing to an "Ancient Maori Trail - Very Steep and Not Maintained." And I thought "wow, how cool it would be to go down that," but decided it was probably not wise to attempt while wearing Converse. 

When we reached the top, the stream seemed deceptively calm and still.

Just a few yards down was the waterfall, we could see out over the whole valley.

A strong wind was blowing the waterfall upwards, right into our faces. Standing at the edge felt like standing in a lawn sprinkler of Biblical proportions.

These photos and my "lawn sprinkler" description don't really capture the power of the waterfall, so I also took a video, which gives a better impression of what it was like to be up there: