That Other Election

You've been flooding my inbox with questions about the results of NZ's election on Saturday. Okay, not really. I don't care about it either, but I'd be remiss if I didn't notify you of the big change in NZ government. After serving as Prime Minister since 1999 (no term limits in NZ), Helen Clark lost to John Key. Seems like everyone is looking for a change these days! Don't ask me any detailed questions about the candidates, their stances, or the election process. I've been involved in many conversations about these topics, but I can't seem to retain the information. I guess I really am a self-centered American. From what I gather, you cast your vote for a certain political party instead of a particular person.

The election coverage on TV left a lot to be desired. It looked like it was shot with a cell phone camera. There were a few talking heads with laptops gathered around a table. Their most impressive graphics were a series of color-coded bar graphs. This does not begin to compare to CNN, which I hear used holograms to beam people into their studios this year. There was no digital map that expands with the touch of a finger.

I've become so accustomed to speaking my mind here on N to the ZED that I sometimes forget to edit myself in real life. After one too many unsolicited comments about the TV coverage, a Kiwi said: "You just can't help yourself, can you?" Oops. Zip it, Maureen. Honestly though, even the TV anchors realized their sad state. They mentioned numerous times that this election didn't measure up to the excitement of the US election.

Buyer's Remorse

I spent too much money on wine in Martinborough. I wasn't satisfied to taste it; I had to own it. Why did I buy a bottle of sweet dessert wine that I didn’t even like?? Because my name is on the label... the unimpressive label in Times New Roman font that I could easily re-create on my home computer. This vineyard was the last stop on our day-long tour of wine country, which may explain my decision-making.

(But give me a break - it was very difficult to find pencils and keychains with my name when I was kid. "Maureen" is no "Jennifer.")

Streets of Martinborough

John Martin, the founder of Martinborough, wasn't very creative. It's pretty obvious how the town got its name. Its street names aren't any more original. Martin named the streets after places he visited on an 1879 world tour, which included many US states. The town square was laid out to resemble the pattern of the Union Jack. Get your own ideas, Kiwis!!

But I'm happy to see that cold beer is still available in western New York! Shout out to my old hometown of Rochester!

My Humble Abode

If you need me, I'll be spending the rest of my days in this adorable Martinborough cottage... drinking wine, tending to my garden, and eating avacados. Bliss.

Martinborough

Martinborough is a small village (population 1400) in the Wairarapa region of New Zealand. It just might be the cutest place in the world! It is full of sunshine, happiness and good wine. Martinborough is a 1.5 hour drive from Wellington, up state highway 2 through the curvy (scary) Rimutaka Mountains. Despite its proximity to rainy/windy Welly, Martinborough is lucky enough to have a different climate. The town is protected by the surrounding mountains and known as the driest spot in the north island.... prime growing conditions for pinot noir. It was the nicest weather I’ve experienced in NZ. Praise the lord.

The tiny little town square consists of a park, some cafes and shops, a colonial style hotel, and a “museum.” The roads leading out of the town square house over 40 vineyards. After our first two pre-noon tastings, it became necessary to abandon our car and hit the vineyards by foot. We merrily traipsed through the grapes all afternoon. It was delightful!

But It Cuts Off My Circulation...

I’ve been quietly observing a disturbing new trend in New Zealand. I didn’t want to believe it was true, but after having my hopes dashed one too many times, I finally asked a Kiwi for confirmation. “Do men wear wedding rings here?” The response: Some do; some don’t. Women still want diamonds, but it is becoming more and more common for men in their 20s and 30s to forgo the wedding ring. New Zealand will not conform!

I think I speak for all of womankind when I say: What in the SAM HELL are you trying to pull??This makes my job soooo much more difficult. When a girl reaches a certain age (25ish), she is trained to check out a man's finger even before checking out his butt.

• Red Light - Ring on finger. Abort mission.
• Yellow Light - Tanned finger with a band of white skin; also known as a “husband’s tan.” Proceed with caution. Determine if he is newly divorced (in which case, proceed with even more caution) or if he is simply hiding his ring in his pocket for the night.
• Green Light - No ring. Full steam ahead!

NZ's refusal to play by the rules is totally throwing me off my game. Imagine a girl’s disappointment when she discovers, for example, that a man who appeared to be a promising new prospect is actually the happily married father of 6-month-old baby. Quit playing games with my heart, young Kiwi male!

And, wives of NZ, I don’t understand your game either. You must be the promiscuous Kiwi women whom I’ve read so much about. Or are you just too trusting/gullible? I’m not a particularly jealous person, but I can assure you that my (imaginary) husband will be wearing a wedding ring.

Sugar Snake

Remember when I told you that New Zealand had giant earthworms? The same is true of their gummi worms! I enjoy the gummi variety much more. This is the closest thing to a snake you will find in New Zealand. They don't have bears either!

(The apple is pictured for scale.)

Mexican Sleeping Bean

Spring has brought different weather to Wellington , but not necessarily better weather. The days are either miserable or gorgeous – no in between – and I’ve never seen conditions change so suddenly. When it rains, it POURS, and the wind can only be described as violent. This picture shows what my deck looks like every morning. Why do we continue to leave these items outside only to be whipped about and cleaned up again and again?? Good question. Ask my roommate.

The temperature is usually in the upper 50s or lower 60s, but temperature isn’t the best measure of conditions. It all depends on the amount of sun and/or wind. It drops to the low 50s overnight. I can now sleep in this temperature relatively comfortably, which shocks me. It is testament to the ability of human beings to adapt to extreme conditions. Next thing you know, I’ll be covering my food in tomato sauce! I no longer bother to turn on my little electric heater overnight. It never made one bit of difference anyway.

However, the $20 I paid for my trusty fleece blanket is the BEST money I have ever spent. I told you that I was initially using the tightly wound “burrito method” to keep warm. I abandoned this for two reasons: 1) it is a bit warmer now; 2) it occurred to me that in the likely event of a fire caused by my electric heater, it would be impossible to quickly untangle myself from the fleece burrito wrap. The burrito wrap guarantees certain death.

I have now adopted the “taco method,” which involves folding the blanket over myself. You still have cozy fleece on both sides of your body, but you can easily slip out of the taco in case of emergency. Kiwi ingenuity at its best!!

The risk of fire/explosion seems to have diminished with the arrival of spring. However, Mother Nature has delivered a new danger to New Zealand. That violent wind can hurt you! A sheet of corrugated metal can apparently act as a sail, which is unfortunate because everything in this country is constructed from this material. (Don’t worry - the Maureen quoted in this article is not me. I have not married a foolish Kiwi roofer... yet.)

Boobs on Bikes

On Friday afternoon, I noticed the streets of Wellywood were busier than usual and people were standing around instead of walking. I thought to myself, “This is the biggest crowd of people I’ve seen in NZ. Something is up.” Then I heard the roar of motorcycle engines. It turns out that everyone was waiting for the Boobs on Bikes parade. Those promiscuous Kiwi women rode their way straight to Parliament! Dream big, little girls of New Zealand, dream big!

The parade is exactly what it sounds like - lots of boobs, lots of young Kiwi male spectators. A group of high school boys (easily identifiable in their school uniforms) sprinted down the street in a desperate attempt to keep up with the bikes. So young, so full of hope…

A guy next to me said, “You gotta have a lot of self-confidence to do that.” I think the exact opposite is true, but I can’t deny the mesmerizing appeal of Boobs on Bikes. My lunch hour was over before I knew it. I only had time to grab McDonald’s. And guess what… I’m not even embarrassed to admit to my fast food lunch. I proudly identify with all aspects of Americana this week, obesity included!

This is the reason I carry my camera with me at all times in NZ. You never know what you’re gonna see! Blogger may terminate my account if I publish objectionable content, so please email me if you’re feeling particularly lonely and need photographic evidence this event.

Newsflash, Part XVI

One time and one time only, I agree with a Kiwi reporter's approach to a news story. I, too, wonder how someone could be unintentionally punched in the head. The Mount Victoria tunnel, the scene of the crime, is one of the major routes connecting my neighborhood to the Welly city center. The incessant honking is very irritating. I would like to intentionally punch some of those drivers in the head.

Guy Fawkes Day

Even in New Zealand, Guy Fawkes Day (Nov 5) was completely overshadowed by the US election. Regardless, I still want to tell you about this holiday handed down from Britain. It's more like a tradition than a legitimate holiday. Guy Fawkes tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament back in the day. We celebrate his failed explosion by setting off an explosion of our own. This is THE night for fireworks in NZ! Fireworks are available for public purchase for only a few days in November. The selection has been severely restricted over the last decade, and sales have been limited to adults (imagine that!) because Kiwis tend to blow themselves up. No surprises there!

Sadly, I missed the big fireworks display along the Welly waterfront. Oh well, it was cold outside. An extended stay at the pub for Obama's victory celebration delayed dinner. I heard the fireworks mid-bite, then I realized we were the only people left in the restaurant.

Me: We're missing it!

Him: Sorry, I didn't think it would start until 10.

Me: Let's go!

Him: But we just got our food.

Me: But it's my first Guy Fawkes Day!

Him: But I'm hungry. You're just going to tell me it doesn't compare to the 4th of July anyway.

Me: Probably. [am I that easy to read??]

Him: You might be right. It's not that good.

Young Kiwi male, you need to work on your timing, but at least you know where you stand.