Auckland from the ferry to Devonport
So this is my first blog entry about New Zealand. As it is my first entry I will give you my first impressions. Never, ever go to New Zealand on a schedule that will have you arriving at five in the morning, because you'll be jet-lagged, tired, sore, and mostly just plain ticked off. It's a bad time to have first impressions. But at the same time, you might appreciate the next day all the more, as was the case with me. It was even bright and sunny as opposed to yesterday's cloudy and grey, mood wise and weather wise. Also, yesterday I was supposed to go to an orientation by BUNAC, but it was, unbeknownst to me, a public holiday. That meant that everything was closed. As they only have orientations on Mondays Wednesdays and Fridays, I had to wait two days before I'm able to leave the city and explore a little. Don't get me wrong, I love Auckland. It's a big city without the big city feel. It's relaxed and spaced out, and everyone just seems happy to be there. But what excites me more is getting to leave and spend time in some town only a handful of people live in.
So since I had the day to just do whatever, I decided to try to get Devon's package to Devon's neighbor's son, who is serving a mission in Auckland. I looked up the address online and it told me to go to Devonport. So much Devons! Coincidence? Absolutely. Even more so since Devonport isn't where the mission office is at all. I went exactly where it told me and asked this nice man with a beard if I was in the right place. He said he'd lived there for 22 years and had never heard of the place. He actually lived right where the address said the mission office should be, so he was just as confused. So I came home, but not before taking a picture of this Devonport tree, which was awesome.
My journey to Devonport also led me to the top of Mt. Victoria, which is a volcanically formed hill and was used as a gun-station for world war 2. Here's a picture. Wikipedia did a better job than me taking a picture of Auckland from the top of the hill...
For being New Zealand, there sure aren't a lot of Kiwis in the hostel I'm staying in. The ratio probably goes as follows... English: 40 percent. Kiwi: 30 percent. German: 10 percent. American: 10 percent. Misc: 10 percent. I have a roommate from Chicago, one from England, and one from Sweden. The Swedish girl HATES Sweden. That's one of the first things I learned about her. I tried to kind of say something nice about Sweden in case she was fishing for compliments, and ended up saying something like "Well I like that Sweden teaches kids to speak foreign languages at a very young age..." And she said "That's because nobody likes Swedish." And she must really believe that, because she hardly has any accent at all. I assume that came from years of speaking english like each word drew out a spoonful of Swedish dialect.
I didn't ever think that coming here with no idea how to live or work would be easy, but that doesn't change the fact that it's not easy. I kind of feel like I did the first week in the MTC. But I expected that, so I've just been dealing with it. Tomorrow I'm going to re-try to find Devon's package recipient, and then make my way to Wellington. It's already been such an adventure. I can hardly wait to discover what the future has in store. In the meantime, keep me updated on stuff.
And now, a picture of a trash can. As I was taking it, somebody who worked at the food court I had just finished eating at asked me if I take a lot of pictures... of stuff. It sounded like he was super weirded out. I explained that I just thought it was funny, and that trash cans in America were labeled differently. As soon as he realized I was American he was suddenly my friend. He said "Serious? Funny as, bro!" Everything is "____ as" here. Sweet as, cool as, strange as...
Neat as!
