Texting Capital of the World

NZ is so far behind the times in so many ways, but they are leaps and bounds ahead of us in one arena. TEXT MESSAGING! NZ has taken this new little bit of technology and run with it. I would put a Kiwi of any age up against an American teenager any day. The Kiwis have very dexterous thumbs! In fact, the title of fastest texter in the world belongs to a young Kiwi male.

I have received maybe 7 phone calls in this country (Miss Popularity), but I regularly have to clear out my phone's inbox. Texting is so prevalent because cell phone calls are crazy expensive. A call is 80 cents per minute, whereas a text message is only 20 cents. I see the appeal of texting, but I am still amused by the degree to which it has invaded society. Texting is not only for young people, and it is not only for chatting with pals. If you can't text in NZ, you'd be totally left in the dust.

How do you enroll to vote? How are you reminded of doctor's appointments? How are you notified of sales at your favorite store? How do you check your bank account balance? How do you enter NZ's many sweepstakes? How do you order a pizza? The answer to all these questions (and much more) is TEXT MESSAGING.

Maybe I'm a slow learner, but I only started texting within the last 2 years. NZ, on the other hand, was already fully immersed in texting 2 years ago. Notice that this article is dated November 2006. For the love of the English language, can we please agree that it is horrible idea to allow text language in school exams? Kiwi kids these days!

C U L8r, dear readers.

Scared Straight

New Zealand has some rather graphic public service announcements - I gather that the country's main problems are gambling, domestic violence and binge drinking. The ads can be disturbing and/or unintentionally funny. I've heard quite a few people discuss this ad, which features a drunk man dropping a child at a picnic. It reminds me of this year's Fourth of July (you know who you are...)

As if you need another reason not to mix alcohol and children -- there was a 6-month-old baby at the office's Drinkie Friday this week. I alerted the baby's attentive father: "Um, he just put a bottle cap in his mouth." I am single-handedly saving New Zealand from itself, one young Kiwi male at a time.

Cookie Time Plane

Kiwis are not content to take a run-of-the-mill gas station pit stop. They spice things up by attaching planes to their gas stations. This Cookie Time plane-turned-cafe is a famous NZ landmark along State Highway One in the town of Mangaweka. It is a DC-3 plane manufactured in America during WWII... much bigger inside than I expected.

I'm Back!

Where have I been the last few days? On death's doorstep. A word of advice - don't ever get sick in a foreign country. The cold I had ignored for 2+ weeks turned into strep throat. Feverish, unable to swallow and with glands the size of cricket balls, I finally took a day off work to seek medical attention.

I opened the yellow pages and started dialing. When that was unsuccessful, I turned to friends for suggestions. I would take a nap, be rejected by a few doctors, take another nap, then be rejected by more doctors. I was discriminated against due to my American accent. Over the course of a day, I called just about every doctor in Wellington. Did the combination of severe illness and intense frustration bring me to tears? Maybe.

Every office referred me to an after hours clinic that costs an outrageous fortune for non-residents. I was almost desperate enough to go there, but at the last minute I found a doctor in the suburbs who was willing to give me an appointment... 24 hours later. I decided to extend my suffering an extra day to save $100.

The registration form at the doctor's office asked for my contact details and citizenship. They made a photocopy of my passport and visa, but asked zero questions about my health or medical history. This was the extent of my exam with the 80-year-old 5 foot tall doctor:

Dr: Are you pregnant?
Me: No.
Dr: Not even a little bit?
Me: Um, I hope not. [A ridiculous question deserves a riduculous answer.]
Dr: Open your mouth and say ahhh.
Me: Ahhh.

And with that, he prescribed me 1000mg of penicillin a day for 10 days. (I think this dose is unusually high?) No exam. No throat culture. The Kiwis will soon be wiped out by a super-bug due to rampant antibiotic resistance. I also asked for a renewal of another prescription. The doctor happily obliged. No questions asked. I would have asked for the good stuff if I had known it would be that easy. If you're a junkie, this is the place to be.

By some miracle, I found a pharmacy that was open until 5:30pm. (Don't forget - this is New Zealand.) They gave me penicillin in a box. There was no accompanying drug information sheet with details about how to take it, possible drug interactions, allergies, side effects, etc. Rules don't apply in New Zealand.

Newsflas, Part XVIII

Men have body image issues too. Young Kiwi male, I promise to overlook your shoulder hair if you promise to overlook my big American ass.

Pump Up the Jams

As I’ve suggested previously, the New Zealand soundtrack is a bit behind the times. The Kiwis really do party like it’s 1999! A regular feature in one of the Welly newspapers involves asking people on the street what’s playing on their ipods. [side note - I recently shared an elevator with someone listening to a discman.] The selections are often old. Not old enough to be classic (Janet Jackson, Rhythm Nation); just old enough to be unexpected (Janet Jackson, Damita Jo).

One day, a shoe store was playing a late 90s boy band dance song. I don’t remember which one – maybe NSync’s "Bye, Bye, Bye," or Backstreet Boys’ "I Want It That Way." Honestly, who can tell the difference? In any case, those chart-toppers are undeniably catchy. You still hear them in American malls from time to time. You bop along and reminisce – “prom night was totally awesome!” In the US, the experience ends there. In New Zealand, the shoe store proceeds to play the entire CD. The CD is at least a decade old, and some of the songs were never popular in the first place.

In another retail/musical mash-up, I was recently Rickrolled in a convenience store. Never gonna get that song out of my head!

To go even further back in time, I can watch hours of music videos on C4 TV. This was my favorite pastime in the 7th grade, which is the last time MTV has shown a music video. In a shocking twist of events (brace yourself...), the music videos broadcast in New Zealand are actually very new and “with it.” Some of the bands are so hip that I’m too old to know them. If you find yourself shoe shopping in New Zealand in 2020, this is the music you’ll hear.

NOT World Famous

I already told you that NZ loves to make fun of Major League Baseball's "World" Series. Well guess what, Kiwis?? You do the exact same thing! Snap!

The tagline for NZ's native L&P Soda is "World Famous in New Zealand" (written on the red banner on the bottles). This non-sensical slogan has taken on a life of its own. Kiwis attach this label to anything they believe to be deserving of world fame. In reality, the term means that an item/person has achieved some degree of popularity in this tiny, isolated nation... nowhere near world famous. By the way, L&P soda is underserving of even local fame. It is gross.

In other soft drink news, soda is commonly referred to as "fizzy drink." NZ has a lot of fruit/citrus sodas that I don't care for. I'm usually a Pepsi girl, but 99% of places only have Coca-Cola. The Coke is often served in a glass bottle with an old-time bottle cap. So cute! Cherry Coke was pulled from the market because it didn't go over so well with Kiwis. Ginger Beer (non-alcholic) is another gross soft drink that is very popular in NZ.

Don't confuse Ginger Beer with Ginger Ale, which is very difficult to find. (I'm told it is here, but I haven't seen it yet.) How am I supposed to have my favorite Ginger Ale and Vanilla Vodka cocktail sans Ginger Ale? It's a tough life.

Overheard in a Welly Restaurant...

A waitress asks a table of men if they would like to order dessert. They order tequila... in a restaurant that lacks a liquor license. I struggle to reconcile the idiocy (tequila for dessert?) and genius (tequila for dessert!) of the young Kiwi male.

Send This to 5 Friends For Good Luck

Just like in the US, Kiwi office workers spend their day forwarding email jokes and chain letters. I used to get at 1 or 2 emails a week that made fun of George Bush in one way or another, but New Zealand is starting to change its tune. Check out the website that was passed around yesterday...
http://www.nothingisimpossible.co.nz/

Newsflash, Part XVII

This article describes the A La Naturelle fashion show taking place in Canterbury this weekend. It shows 2 examples of poor parenting by the Kiwis. 1) Would you let your 17-year-old daughter model topless? Is it still considered "nudity" if there is body paint involved? Naturally, this showing of boobs is expected to draw huge crowds of children (?!) so there will also be a petting zoo and fair rides. 2) Do the NZ police urge parents to watch their children closely? No. They say "Write your cell phone number on junior's hand and we'll call you whenever we find him."

England's Princess Anne is expected to attend that classy fashion show with all the Kiwi kids. Her big brother, Prince Charles, paid his own visit to New Zealand in 1981. This articles contains new revelations about Charles' thoughts on the country. He is quoted as saying: "I am beginning to get fed up with the amount of nonsensical rubbish I take all day and every day." Preachin' to the choir, Chuck!

You Say Zed, I Say Zee

Now that they can't make fun of my President anymore, the Kiwis have taken to making fun of my spelling. At a work meeting, people were trying to come up with a word that is the opposite of seamless. I wasn't supposed to be an active participant in this meeting, but I couldn't stand to watch them stumble over themselves any longer. I offered up "disjointed." Everyone liked this suggestion. The guy writing on the board (yes, like a 4th grade classroom) had his back to us. He asked: "Was that the American?"and commented that I should be happy with the spelling because it didn't have any extra U's. Somone said I'd probably like to "throw a funny ZED in there" (implying that I would write dizjointed instead of disjointed). They all had a good laugh over this. Someone finally tacked on, "Oh we're not making fun of you, Maureen." Sure...