dropping in

Another entry. . . in 2 days. I'm catching up to myself.
Here are some shots of the rafting extravaganza. The first on is of us doing the drop, and the other one is of us trying to stay in a surf at the base of a falls. . . I will post some passages here. Deb, sorry, you already read this, but I thought after I wrote it that it really sums things up here for me in a lot of ways, and time is money on these stupid machines, so why not be economical and share? So here is a fragment of an email to Deb. . .

**
I am really enjoying working here, however I'm nervous about my transition and what, if anything I'll find in Manapouri. Totally normal fear I think, and probably unfounded, but it's just that I was just really getting some good friends when I left Ohakune. It was a really small town though with a lot of small town politics that I won't miss. Also I wouldn't have made enough to get out of NZ there, and vietnam is still in the cards after all, so off to Manapouri it is. Anyway I do like the kiwi insights of working here, and it makes doing things really cheap. So far I've paid for the bungy jump and everything else has been free through interviews or favours, which is awesome. That's a trend I hope to continue on the south island, hopefully here in Queenstown (fingers crossed). Oh there was the other day when we snuck into the thermal wonderland outside Rotorua, but that was out of principle. How could they charge us to see something natural? In the words of Bill Bryson, "Well, honestly." The best part was we had to sneak up a stinky thermal creek to get in. When locals talk to me I just laugh my ass off, not at them, with them, but I'm still laughing. The amount of times I've heard "Fucking Canadians" is countless. One of them will say it and whoever else isn't canadian will join in. It's great. Every friendship I had for the first five or so started the same way. 1) Establish where I'm from 2)Talk about how Canada and NZ are the same because we both live next to assholes 3) make fun of Americans for a bit 4) make fun of Australians for a bit 5) talk about ignorance and stereotypes 6) become the best of friends. And no the irony of 4 and five coming right before 6 does not escape me, but it may have escaped the kiwis, not sure. the best par though is forming my own stereotypes, because I feel like they're true if I make them up. For example, if you want to confuse the shit out of a Kiwi, and get the same reaction every single time, do this: Get a piece of bread, put peanut butter on it. Then take some jam, and put that on the peanut butter. If they haven't said anything yet, look at their face. They will have stopped making their sandwich and will now be looking at yours. At this point their face will be the picture of thinly veiled disgust, but trying to remain civil, as Kiwis do in these situations, the subject will say "Jem on paynut butta, ay." It's always the same tone of voice too, I love this. the last time this happened I was standing next to a guy from vancouver who was friends with the kiwi family we were on trip with, and we would rip into them together in alternation with their rippings into us. After I made the sandwich and Grant, the kiwi delivered the line (he's a waitangi treaty lawyer, but not Maori: awesome). I said, "this is standard trip fare in north america, we always eat this." Reidar (Canadian) chimes in "do you know what someone tried to feed me the other day? A peanut butter sandwich with cracked pepper and tomato"
"Here?"
"Yeah, here"
"Jesus"
Grant adds "well there's nothing inherently wrong with savoury things on peanut butter, such as cracked pepper and tomato, but Jam. . ."

And round and round we go.

**

Mike, a british bloke, and myself were pretending we were in the war the whole time we were sneaking in to this place, up to our tits in eggy murky water in a little creek filled with sticks and branches. The whole thing was about 2 metres wide and in a little valley covered in tree ferns and manuka, which is tea tree. When it was faster to get on land we had to scramble because the river banks were deep mud which was thermal, so if you sunk in for more than 1 second you'd get a burn, so it was a matter of grabbing branches to scoot out and help the other guy up. We giggled and giggled. Next thing we knew we were next to the path and we were ducking, shirts on our heads and the rest of us covered in dirt and grit stuck to us by eggy water. People were no more than 2 metres away walking past oblivious to the two sketchy guys in the bush. When there was a gap in traffic we broke through one at a time and got dressed quickly. We enjoyed our time at the Wai O Tapu thermal wonderland, thank you very much, and it was all for free. I bought some sweet shirts on the way out for about the price of the entry fee. . . Just thought I'd share that anectode. The first shot is mike trying to keep his shirt dry, and the second is of a source of the evil egginess. After this was done we swam where the cold creek meets the hot thermal creek, and you can sort of puddle around till you find the temperature you like. I let the water get in my nose before reading the sign with the skull and crossbones next to the swimming hole that very specifically stated not to put your head under for the reason that the water was rampant with "amoebal meningitis" which is lethal, and can invade the system through the nose. . . fuck. If you don't hear from me for another month you'll know why. I feel fine so far and that was like 3 days ago though, so I haven't lost any sleep over it.