The Art of Listening

Now that I’ve been here for 2 weeks (although I feel very at home and it seems like more), I’ve begun to pick up on some major social differences between kiwi culture and my own. I’ve spent countless hours socializing over dinners and tea with different New Zealand families. I have reverted into my more quieter, thoughtful self, where I listen far more than I talk and am much more conscious of manners and politeness. The common perception many foreigners feel of Americans being loud, has never really hit home for me until I came to New Zealand. Yeah, I stood in line next to a loud American in the Auckland airport, feeling embarrassed as he made jokes about declaring the meat on his thighs to customs, but god forbid-I was not one of him. I’ve learned that I too fell into the “loud American” category as I entered the homes of New Zealanders doing what I thought was polite. My first family I met I shook everyone’s hands, played with the dog, talked to the kids, made conversation, spoke clearly, cracked jokes, and so on. In a quieter, polite, and more withdrawn culture this comes off as intimidating and overbearing. Since then, I have had no trouble connecting with people and making friends. Of course, once they get to know and like you it’s fine to open up and talk more. But it has been a dramatic cultural shift for me to always stand back and listen, and sometimes leave someone’s house after a 3 hour meal with having said very little. Sometimes this may mean sitting through someone’s 967 picture photo album of their 2 month holiday in America. I have never seen so many home photos of Sea World in my life until I came here.
I should make a note that all this socializing is done with people ages 50+ (and usually 65+). Wanganui is largely a retirement community where most kids at my age have moved away. I see kids from time to time my age in restaurants or in cars next to me and I stare longingly at them thinking “what are these kids like?” I have yet to enter mainstream NZ youth culture in anyway as I sit back socializing with my 70 yr old friends. At this point I’m not too concerned, as I know my WWOOFing adventures will introduce me to lots of kids my own age. I do miss children though after working with kids everyday for the last 7 months.

I expressed this to some of my elderly friends who happened to be grandparents, and I’ve had myself many days now playing with children of Middle Earth. They are so darn cute and I’ve made many videos of hilarious 5 year olds with kiwi accents, but I am still trying to figure out how to load them on here without it taking a day to load (any suggestions?) The tractor photo is of a family who has taken me under their wing. We played on a farm that day, and chased piglets and pet llamas, and the kids yell “Pheybay, Pheybay!” *Note this is how my name is said in a NZ accent and it makes me want to pee my pants every time.

Lastly, just a quick recap of what I did yesterday. I’ve signed up for a few guided tours of different things while I’m in Wanganui. Yesterday I went on a tour of the Manawatu Gorge near Palmerston North, NZ. I didn’t know what it was, but the word “gorge” was familiar as an I-towner and I enjoy hiking (or tramping as they say) so it sounded great. I loaded the bus with 57 other people, all retired of course, planning for a nice hike up a gorge. They dropped us off in the middle of native NZ bush, which is basically like entering Jurassic Park.
We hiked up hundreds of stairs and down ravines, and across bridged walkways for 5 hours, which I thought was a fairly strenuous hike. I was exhausted, and was caught off guard when all the grandmas and grandpas were booking it with ease. Thus, I’ve come to the conclusion that when it comes to weather and the elements, and strenuous outdoor activity, no matter what age-New Zealanders are hardcore. We stopped for ice cream on the way home, but exhausted and freezing I sat on the bus-only to look outside to the whole group of old folk eating their ice cream in the wind and rain like it was nothing. For godsake ice cream is not for when you’ve been hiking in wind and rain up gnarly paths through the Forests of Fangorn. These people were crazy! Nevertheless, the hike was beautiful, and the bush was like no forest I’d ever been to. Moss covered trees spiraled into a gorgeous canopy with intermittent 500 year old trees along the way, towering above ferns as big as cars. On a cloudy day, the forest was so dark, it truly felt like some ethereal elvin land. My mind resorts back to Lord of the Rings every day while I’m here, but I guess there are worse things in life.