Go Phils!

It was a classic coming of age tale. I dedicated the summer of 1993 to following the Phillies on their road to the World Series. I knew every detail about every player. We subscribed to the pay-channel PRISM so I could watch all the games. I wanted to marry Darren Daulton, who has since completely lost his marbles (I can really pick 'em). The Blue Jays' Joe Carter robbed me of my childhood innocence when he hit that home run. I cried myself to sleep and woke up as a jaded adolescent. I dislike Canada to this day. Toronto is where dreams go to die.

Fifteen years later and half a world away, I am once again the authority on the Phillies and their quest for the World Series championship. My life has come full circle! Nevermind that I haven't watched a game all season. The Kiwis don't know sh*t about baseball and they think I'm from Philadelphia, so I'm regarded as the resident expert.

This guy at work makes a serious effort to talk to to me about the Phillies and the playoffs everyday. This must be what the kids call "flirting," right? I've been known to misinterpret these things, but I see no other explanation in this case because you have to go out of your way to find baseball news/scores from New Zealand. He confuses the American League and the National League, which I find endearing. He uses fancy terms like "runs batted in," which I suspect he learned on the internet. "A" for effort, young Kiwi male! Clearly, this man is madly in love with me.

Thank you, Chase Utley, for bringing me closer to the young Kiwi male. You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself! And Chase - one more thing - do me a solid and please, please, please drag this series out to a full 7 games. My future depends on it.

Special note to Philly readers: I'm relying on you to share insider info on these games so I can continue to impress the Kiwis.

Tweet

Everyone in New Zealand seems to do something. They are not as work-obsessed as Americans. For instance, my adult co-workers participate in the following activities: netball, cricket, soccer, surf lifesaving, gardening, running, motorbiking, etc. A Kiwi is more likely to inquire about your extracurricular activities than your career. This is probably a good attitude, but it makes me feel lazy. How can I respond? "In my previous life, I grew to like indoor spinning classes while you rode a real bike through the majestic mountains of New Zealand." Or maybe: "I write a blog that mocks your culture." Now that the winter is drawing to a close, I'm going to start telling the Kiwis that I ski.

Even the animals have hobbies! In his spare time, this unidentified black bird enjoys watching sailboat races.

NZ FAQ

It's been 3 months (!) already, so I think it is time for a N TO THE ZED status report. I have fun writing this blog, and I'm so happy that others enjoy it too. I know I have more readers than commentors, so please say hello once in a while. I'm all alone over here, and I love hearing from you. Don't worry about typos (mom). We're all friends here at N TO THE ZED. No judgements. Thanks for sticking with me this far, dear readers. Stay tuned! This country continues to surprise me.

Now allow me to address your top 10 burning emails.

1) Question: How is life in Australia?
Answer: I don't know. I live in New Zealand.

2) Question: Have you had any more online dates?

Answer: No, I told you that disastrous experiment was over. I keep my word.

3) Question: I'm so jealous of you! / I'm living vicariously through you!

Answer: This isn't a question, but it makes me laugh. Guess what? I'm often jealous of your stable lives and extensive wardrobes. Don't get me wrong - I'm enjoying (almost) every minute of being here, but remember that I only write about the fun stuff. It is still "normal life" in many ways. I pay bills. I wake up at 6:30am to spend my day in a cubicle, except Kiwi cubicles don't even have walls. Save your jealousy for my summer of unemployment.

4) Question: How do you continue to blog so much now that you have a job?

Answer: This stays between you me and you, but the NZ government has employed me to do.... nothing. This is only a slight exaggeration. There is no shortage of free time. I look busy when I write in a notebook. It takes me 5 minutes to put the text online and add pictures later. I'm pretty much getting paid to blog at this point. Easy as!

5) Question: Do you and Dawn hate each other yet?

Answer: Not yet :) Ask us again when we're living in our Integra this summer.

6) Question: The blog concerns me. Are you really okay over there?

Answer: I'm fine! You understand that I'm not really a xenophobic boy-crazy party girl, right? Right?! I just play one on a blog.

7) Question: When are you coming home?

Answer: To be determined. My visa is valid until July, but I have no desire to spend another winter here. Depending on funding, I may try to spend a few months somewhere else.

8) Question: Can I stay on your couch?

Answer: YES!!!!! I'll even give you my bed. Stop teasing me and get over here already! It will be the best small fortune you ever spend. I don't even care if I know you. Send your friends.

9) Question: Did you see recent movie X? Did you watch the last episode of TV show Y?

Answer: Again, stop teasing me. Haven't you listened to a word I've said about entertainment in NZ?

10) Question: Can you find a young Kiwi male for me too?

Answer: Sorry, NZ has a man drought. It's every woman for herself.

Buckle Up!

I'm doing like the Kiwis and taking a step back in time. Dawn and I are now the proud owners of a 1990 Honda Integra hatchback. Livin' large in New Zealand!! Please say a little prayer that a) this car does not blow up; and b) I do not wreck it. Forget base jumping off the Sky Tower -- driving this car is by far the most frightening thing I have ever done. I break out into a cold sweat behind the wheel. Consider the following:

1. Kiwi drivers are Crazy McSpeed DemoNZ. Motorcycles are allowed to drive between lanes and pop in and out as they please. The bus we rode to pick up our car hit a bicyclist. No joke.

2. I have no freakin' clue where I am or where I'm going.

3. The roads are treacherous and full of blind turns. Take a millisecond to sneeze and you'll likely drive off a cliff. The 2 lane roads in our Hataitai neighborhood are not nearly wide enough to accommodate 2 cars.

4. It is completely disorienting to drive from the right side of the car. My whole center of gravity is thrown off. It's like trying to write with your left hand. You know what to do, but you just. can't. do. it. I want to use my right hand to shift gears, but there is nothing there. I look up and to the right to check my rearview mirror, but there is nothing there. The positions of the windshield wipers and turn signal are reversed. Hilarity ensues.

5. It is very possible that I will drive on the wrong side of the road. Every little move requires advance planning and intense concentration.

6. NZ road rules baffle me. You drive on the left side of the road, but a car turning right always has the right of way. I'm told this law tricks even the Brits. I couldn't even visualize the situation until I was smack dab in the middle of it. Someone started honking. Suffice it to say the correct move is the exact opposite of what you would do in the US. Keep in mind that I could barely follow the road rules of my own country. Did you know that blowing past a stopped school bus in New York state will put enough points on your license to make you waste an entire Saturday in a defensive driving class? Stupid school kids.

7. A round white sign with a black slash mark means the speed limit is 100km/hr. Totally intuitive, right?? A sign with the number 100 might be confusing.

Old habits die hard. For our safety, distracting side conversations and music are currently banned from the Integra. I'm hopeful this rule will eventually change. This gives you plenty of time to make me a mix tape. My new ride has a sweet cassette player!

Hot Rod

Scared Stiff

There's totally enough room to sleep in this thing!

DIY: It's In Our (their) DNA

This TV commercial for Mitre 10 (think Lowe's or Home Depot) is adorable! It showcases:

1. Cute kids with accents
2. The Kiwi ingenuity and pioneering spirit
3. NZ's rivalry with Australia

(Yes, I finally figured out how to post a video directly on the blog.)

Can you please confirm...?

Post-NOSH, a new work acquaintance invited me out with his friends. An impromptu free-association game erupted when he introduced me as a Philadelphian. They yell out: cheesteak, 76ers, Flyers, Phillies, liberty bell. Very good, Kiwis! A guy from South Africa claims to be a huge Eagles fan.

I'm asked if I'll be voting soon, the logistics of voting from abroad, and who I voted for. I've had this discussion 4 times this week alone. They come right out with it. "Nice to meet you. Who will you vote for?" Lay off me, Kiwis! I mailed my absentee ballot this week. (By the way, you won't be very popular if your answer is John McCain.)

I really like this group because they are fun, make ridiculous claims about the US, give me all kinds of crap about being American, and let me do the same about New Zealand (I usually don't say this stuff aloud). I believe the ability to laugh at oneself is an essential personality trait, but I've also wondered whether the degree to which I enjoy insults is healthy. Note to self: Schedule therapy.

• I'm asked to confirm that the best thing about going to bars in America is buffalo wing night. Well, I never really thought about it...
• I'm asked to confirm that an American who attends an Ivy League school is set for life.
• Lyle tells me his name is very common in America, just like George. I've never met a Lyle and I can think of only one George. He asks, "What about W. and his father?" I don't know the Bushes personally, and not all citizens share a name with their president.
• Someone says I must be excited to get a free Dr. Pepper if Guns 'n Roses finally release Chinese Democracy this year. I guess I missed this March 2008 announcement. I do not like Dr. Pepper.
• South Carolina comes up in a discussion of possible places I might live upon my return to the US. The reaction: "South Cackalacky?! I thought you said you voted for change? But they do have proper barbecue restaurants there, don't they? That would be nice."
• A guy trying to coax me onto the dance floor says I must have moves because I'm from Philly. "Why? What have you heard about Philly?" He says, "Oh, you know, just what Will Smith said. In west Philadelphia born and raised...."
• Other random comments - NZ won WWII for the US. The US is responsible for the hole in the ozone layer above NZ. The world series isn't really a world series. Blah, blah, blah.

The guy from work makes a passing remark about being single. Woah, back up...

• Me: I thought you told me last week that you had a girlfriend?
• Him: Well yeah. I had a girlfriend last week, but not anymore.
• Me: Oh. But didn't you say you lived together for 5 years?
• Him: Yeah, that's why I wasn't at work on Monday. I moved her out.

Young Kiwi male, do you mean to tell me that you've been mercilessly making fun of me all night AND you're on the rebound!?! Game on.

Scotland, NZ

This Thursday, people started asking whether I would attend NOSH on Friday. I assumed this was some type of important meeting. Wrong. National Office Social Hour.

Last weeks' Drinkie Friday was only for my department; NOSH is a fortnightly event for the whole office. Departments take turns planning the NOSH and selecting a theme. Yes, it is a theme party! This week was "Scotland." At 3:45pm, people began sneaking off to the bathroom to change into kilts and tartan scarves. We moved down to the large 7th floor conference room at 4pm.

I wish you could have been there, dear readers! This is as close as I will ever get to a Dunder-Mifflin office party. The conference room houses a true bar. Drinks are $3 (a real bar charges ~$7), or you can buy a laminated hole-punch NOSH card that gets you 10 drinks for $25. The concept is similar to Schrute Bucks and Stanley Nickels.

Rugby jerseys hung from a makeshift clothesline. Tea towels and various other pictures of Scotland were taped to the windows. The walls were plastered with low-resolution photos of famous Scots, such as Annie Lennox, Billy Connelly and... Ronald McDonald. (Isn't he a red-blooded American??) Fat Bastard was conspicuously absent from this collage, so I've pictured him here. There was a 2 page print-out of Scottish facts. Someone had circled a "fact" about the coat of arms and handwritten "WRONG" across the page. That was all the entertainment I needed, but then the bagpiper showed up! And the haggis was presented! And the winner of the costume contest was awarded a bottle of Scottish whiskey!

Everyone is pretty loose at these official work functions; no boundaries between work life/social life. Someone spilled red wine on my white purse. Also, they wouldn't know an inappropriate comment if walked right up and stroked their arm. I surely have grounds for a sexual harassment lawsuit, if only their New Zealand dollars were worth something.

The Kiwis stormed the bar when NOSH announced last call at 7pm. As if there aren't 50 places within walking distance that will be open until 5am...

Newsflash, Part XII

New Zealand should hire me as its life coach. Yesterday, I wrote about Parlysis Park and expressed concern for the health and safety of Kiwi kids. Today, I read about "Children Hurt in Horror Side Show Ride." Am I good or am I good?

Paralysis Park

I continue to make interesting discoveries about New Zealand's playgrounds. Kiwis do not discriminate when it comes to adventure sports. This swing is designed especially for wheelchair users! I've never seen such a thing. The handicapped will not be denied an adrenaline rush! I suspect this "devil may care" attitude is what landed them in a wheelchair in the first place.

The Kiwi children also have a need for speed. Check out this super-sized slide. Not an overprotective parent in sight! Undoubtedly, some of these kids will be riding the wheelchair swing in a few years.

Home Is Where The Heart Is

When you are from a place as small as New Zealand, you cannot afford to know about only your own country. I'm impressed by the depth of the Kiwis' international knowledge. They are worldly, well-travelled, and know much more about foreign affairs than Americans.

When the Kiwis ask where you are from, they expect an answer more specific than "United States." This has been a process of trial and error. I began by saying "New York," but this caused confusion because people assumed Manhattan. "Upstate New York" brought up too much talk about Canada. Insulting! Also, that felt like a lie. Even after 3 years, I do not at all think of myself as being from New York. I still more closely identify with Boston, but I can't very well say I'm from there anymore.

I'm comfortable with my now standard answer of "Pennsylvania." Most people don't dig deeper, although someone asked if I was from coal country or steel country. He wanted to talk about the Amish and the movie October Sky. The "BoSox" guy from work asked me the name of Philadelphia's baseball team. (Are the fightin' Phils really 1 win away from the World Series?!) A cab driver informed me of - and sang! - a song called "Pennsylvania 5000" that his jazz band plays. I was ashamed that a Kiwi knew something about my home state that I didn't. My self-esteem rebounded when when further conversation revealed the cabbie thought Pennsylvania was a city in the Midwest. (Subsequent internet investigation leads me to believe the true name of this song is actually "Pennsylvania 6-5000.")

Reader Homework - I suggest you listen to Bruce, Billy, and Bon Jovi for inspiration while you contemplate the emotionally-charged question: Where are you from?

Ranfurly Shield Victory Parade

A few weeks ago, I accidentally attended the victory parade for the Wellington Phoenix rugby team. For the first time since 1981, Wellington is in possession of the coveted Ranfurly Shield. The championship was even more meaningful becuase the Phoenix beat Auckland in the finals. All Kiwis who don't live in Auckland hate Auckland. The city's residents are affectionately known as JAFAs (just another f-ing Aucklander).

The parade lasted less than 10 mintues and the crowd was in the tens. Compare this to the 2002 New England Patriots superbowl victory parade, where I was nearly trampled to death. But hey, I won't complain about a truckload of young Kiwi males.