Found in Translation

Well, we've been here almost three months now and I feel like there's not too much to report.  The truth, though, is that everyone's life is full of trials and adventures, some great and some small, but very few newsworthy in a broader sense.  The minutia of what fascinates, exasperates, and motivates us through the streams of daily life is generally reserved for those (like parents and spouses) who love us enough either to find interest in our mundane or to simply enjoy the sound of our thoughts.  In the case of the latter, I suspect some people have a mental flow consistently worthy of articulation, but I am certain I'm not one of them (the other day, a friend looked at me and said that he sensed I was about to add something deep to our conversation (I was madly googling on my phone); sadly, I was just searching for what was on the Krusty the Clown sandwich (and the answer is: ham, sausage, and bacon, with a smidge of mayo on white bread) (it was offered at a Deli to Krusty’s father who is a Rabbi)).  All that to say that if my posts are a bit infrequent, you can safely assume that I'm doing you a favour.

Life carries on and we’ve found our way into a regular routine here.  We have good friends, a good church, and lots to see and do.  I go to school as if it were a regular job, leaving the house just after 8 and getting home just after 5.  Annalise has Kindy in the afternoon three days a week and is now taking swimming lessons at ‘The Tepid Baths’ (a historic building in downtown Auckland that just finished a massive overhaul).  Sheri takes both kids to an organized playgroup every week and gets a chance to chat with other Moms from our area.  We host a weekly ‘supper’ (explanation to come) that now has about 12 people coming to talk about faith and the Bible.  Our life is full and it is good.

And beyond the routine?  We continue to explore Auckland and its environs.  We try to take in something new most weekends and have been finding that there’s plenty to keep us interested.  One weekend, we went up to the farmers’ market in Matakana (about half an hour north of Auckland if you follow the signs; an hour+ if you follow the GPS, but the ‘scenic route’ involves a twisty gravel road up and down the side of a mini mountain)… we didn’t see much of the market, though, because Sheri was hit with a bout of serious abdominal pain and we ended up heading off to the hospital.  The diagnosis was just an ‘intestinal spasm’ and we were sent on our way after some pills and a shot.  Not fun (!), but now we have a sense of the medical system over here; it’s a bit like dentists back home; you pay at reception and get reimbursed by insurance later.

Last weekend, we went to Karekare beach.  We were actually going to see Karekare falls and we did (they’re cool!), but the walk was short and so we decided to check out the beach as well.  I’m sure I overuse this word, but it was AWESOME!  See this very well:  a huge black sand beach hundreds of feet wide and framed by cliffs and dunes; a massive stone island jutting out of the water just offshore; and the surf… oh the surf!....  monstrous rollers as tall as houses and capable, I’m sure, of swallowing buses.  And now, dear friends, hear the sound; listen as the ocean draws in its watery breath and then hear the thunder as it pours forth speech!  Truly, this glorious firmament has much to say and my heart thrilled to hear it!  I carried Everett up a large dune that was backed by cliffs echoing out the song, and there I marveled at another wonder my Northern Manitoba heart has traveled far to experience.  (But Manitoba sings, too!  There is an aching beauty in a bright cloudless morning at -35C where the air sparkles like crystal and the silence shouts.  (Have you heard these songs?  Do you know what they mean? As the Psalmist says, “Day unto day they pour forth speech, night after night they display knowledge” and I’m humbled by how seldom I see and hear.))

And so it is that we continue to explore even as we settle into a groove of life (and hey, we’re nothing, if not groovy, right? ;).  Everett is busy filling up his mouth with teeth and handling them with all the grace you’d expect from a son of his father (but some of you think I’m a patient, mild-mannered type, don’t you?  I’m sorry to say that I’m not (I’m a work very much still in progress) and you just have to spend a few days with my little boy to have some insight into what lurks behind the façade (it’s scary)).  Annalise is learning to write all of her letters and has become an avid painter; her drawing skills are improving by leaps and bounds.  Sheri is helping to organize a ‘weekend away’ for our church, she is starting a book club, and she continues to amaze us with the range and scope of her culinary talents (100% from scratch lemon meringue pie this week with lemons off the tree in our backyard!).  And me, I’ve picked up some work part time for my professor as a ‘research assistant’.  It’s only a few hours a week and the pay is poor, but every penny counts.

I’ll close off this update with a bit of the differences I’ve been tracking ‘twixt here and home (yep, it’s still home).  First, and most obvious, they drive on the wrong side of the road (otherwise known as the left side, but I’m biased).  (Ho hum, you say?  Everyone knows that! …  Yeah, yeah!  I’m just trying to be thorough.)  Correspondingly, the driver sits on the wrong side and I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve either walked to or gotten into the passenger side before realizing (a wee bit embarrassing in a busy parking lot).  Pedestrians have even less rights over here; even in parking lots if you’re on foot, cars will expect you to stay out of their way and won’t slow down or stop just for little old you.  We’ve already talked about the insulation issue, but just a few days ago I had to replace a pot light in the living room.  Until now, I had at least assumed a modicum of insulation; sawdust, newspaper, cotton candy, … something (anything!).  But now, I pulled the light holder down and I could see the plywood and rafters of the roof a few feet above!  There’s not a whisper of anything above the drywall!  So, that explains that…  Light switches are upside down.  They’re generally a different style than ours back home, kind of a compromise between an old-school toggle and a decora switch, but you have to push the bottom to turn them on.  Power outlets all have their own switches, right beside the outlet (those are upside-down, too) and, of course, the plug configuration is different.  Regular grocery stores don’t sell dill pickles (and they call this civilization?)… eggo waffles and kraft dinner are nowhere to be found… Root Beer is scarce (say it aint so!) and, apparently, in that regard there’s something wrong with the average Kiwi’s taste buds (I deigned to share some of the delicious elixir with a few people and they all agreed it tastes like mouthwash!  That’s crazy talk!  (It just occurred to me that they must have delicious mouthwash over here… I’ll have to get some)).

And then there’s the language.  English is English, right?  And New Zealand has history with Britain, just like we do, right?  Surely we can all agree that Websters or the OED have the generally “correct” definition of a word and we’ll all just go along.  Well, almost…  but there are a few important variations.  Here are a few Kiwi words that you’d think you know the meaning of:

Supper: *not* an equivalent to dinner.  “Supper” is actually dessert or an evening snack.  Learned when Sheri was asked to provide “supper” at 7:30 for the 10+ people coming to our home on Thursday evenings.  Thankfully, the translation issue was found out before we tried to serve a full meal to a group of people who had just had dinner.

Tea: not just a drink and not just a nice get together over a hot drink.  It’s a term used for almost any social gathering (or so it seems to me); we were invited to a potluck “tea” one Saturday evening and we presumed that meant “supper” where we would each bring a dessert to share.  And then someone said they were going to bring a meat dish…  so, it was actually a potluck dinner followed by supper.  Apparently, there is also such a thing as a ‘kitchen tea’ which we would call a bridal shower for kitchenware.  I’m sure there are others…

Biscuit: not a scone-like baked bread item known to be a delicious absorber of butter and great platform for jam (or gravy, if you’re feeling American), but rather a cookie.  That’s right Cookie Monster…  over here, Cookie, Cookie, Cookie, starts with ‘B’.

Cookie: rarely used term for a particularly sweet style of “biscuit”.

Seared: Grilled.  Sheri was trying to get a chicken burger at McDonalds and it was surprisingly difficult to convey that she just wanted it grilled, not breaded.  Eventually, we figured out that meant that she wanted a seared (pronounced not far off from ‘said’) chicken breast.

Jumper: Sweater.

Dairy: Corner store

Methylated spirits: supposedly this works as barbecue lighter fluid.  The owners of our home left us a little charcoal grill and I have had the most ridiculously frustrating time trying to light charcoal with solid fuel starter (over an hour last weekend!).  But that’s all I’ve been able to find in the hardware stores near the charcoal.  Finally one of the guys at school told me to buy some methylated spirits… here’s hoping.

Iced chocolate or Chocolate Frappe: Chocolate milkshake.

Flat white: A latte… but most places have both on the menu; I think only difference is the amount of foam (more for a latte).

Double-glazed: Not an even yummier donut (Tim Hortons should look into that, though).  It’s actually an adjective for windows over here that means double-paned and it’s used with a touch of wonder, as in: “My parents place is sooo warm!  They have (just imagine) double-glazed windows.”

Not even ow! : An expression roughly equivalent to “whatever!” or “no way, man!” (I think)

Sweet as! : Sweet! (the ‘as’ can be added to all sorts of things and it’s left to the hearer’s imagination to append the proper epitomizing comparison… e.g. Crazy as! Cheap as!)

Stuffed it up: Broke it.  As in “We tossed a bunch of nuts into our cheap as food processor, ran it for 15 minutes and stuffed it up.”

All this language confusion makes me think of (what else?) The Simpsons:
Lou: Well, at McDonald's you can buy a Krusty Burger with cheese,
     right?  But they don't call it a Krusty Burger with cheese.
Wiggum: Get out!  Well, what do they call it?
Lou: A Quarter Pounder with cheese.
Wiggum: Quarter Pounder with cheese?  Well, I can picture the cheese,
        but, uh, do they have Krusty partially gelatinated non-dairy
        gum-based beverages?
Lou: Mm-hm.  They call 'em, "shakes."
Eddie: Huh, shakes.  You don't know what you're gettin'.