Bring on the Love

Yesterday I found out that the government housing projects across the street from our apartment are specifically allocated for people who just got out of prison and are being integrated back into society. At least living in the ghetto keeps life interesting.

Oh New Zealand, Land of the Open Front Door: I missed you. How could I not miss a country where it's fashionable for men to wear short shorts and rubber boots (stubbies and gum boots)? How could I not miss the mountains and lakes, the sheep shearing contests and the traditional family meal of an energy drink and a greasy meat pie? Whilst flying into Auckland International Airport a huge weight suddenly lifted off my shoulders and before I could stop myself a river of tears gushed forth and I was sobbing. No person has ever been that happy to be in Auckland, the only part of New Zealand forsaken by the Gods. In typical fashion, the large man sitting next to me did what any self-respecting, staunch, stiff-upper-lip Kiwi male would do when faced with emotion: He pretended it wasn't happening. One more flight to Queenstown and I was back in the arms of my boyfriend Pete after a very, very long five months away. After celebrating the New Year and spending a week with our friends, we packed up Pete's van and headed up to Christchurch for work.

(*Note on the van: Pete's brother John gave it to us when he went back to England and there has been a wee disagreement as to the name of the van. Pete named him Archie, and I named him Captain Jack. I'll keep you posted on any compromise made.)

Coming to Christchurch has been an interesting challenge in getting to know the "Big City" of 400,000 people, none of whom we know. We took the first furnished apartment we found near the city center (centre), looked around and then wondered why we had taken it in the first place. To top off all the magic ChCh has to offer, we experienced our first earthquake last week. Well, three of them.

(*Note on earthquakes: To answer some of your recent questions, yes, earthquakes are very scary. The earth and everything attached to it moves and vibrates and you know that the time has come for you to die. Instantly you wish that you had been to Paris just one more time. And then it stops. You laugh manically because you have just cheated death somehow and you look up nervously, hoping the building in stable. Earthquakes: Not fun.)

Besides that whole cheating-death feeling, Christchurch continues to grow on me. Pete goes to work everyday, scaffolding on building sites from the Big Poppa Earthquake back in August, which are everywhere; the entire city is under construction. I have been looking about for some cash work but I don't have a work visa so I'm finding it a bit tricky. I'm having fun filling the time though.

Today I...

-talked to a lady about volunteering with refugees and helping them adjust to their new surroundings, so I hope that goes through.

-broke my jandal (flip flop) and walked home barefoot. I'm down to one pair of shoes (crocs). Again.

-bought a bike. He's blue and gold, blue from the paint, gold from the rust. When the sun hits it the rusty metal sparkles. It's a total piece of crap, I love it. Name: unknown.

-enrolled in Muay Thai Boxing classes again now that my wrist has healed.

Bring on the love.