Spring is Springing (or at least trying to)

Hello all you folks out there in cyberspace. I wish I could give a good excuse for my general slackness in generating new posts, but alas, I have none. To my credit though, for awhile life was just schoolwork, running, and salsa, and I can only make that so interesting. But now that mid-semester break has come and gone, I actually have something to write about. So hold on to your hats, 'cause here we go!

A lot of things have happened within the past few weeks. Not only did I celebrate my 24th birthday, I got to share it with my MOMMY :) She flew all the way over here from the States for an eleven-day whirlwind tour of New Zealand, jam-packed with Rotary activities. Thanks to our killer planning skills, Abbie (the other ambassadorial scholar here) and I organized a Rotary travel extravaganza in which we hit up three different clubs throughout Central Otago and gave our presentations. It actually all worked out really well, as we were given lodging, some help with gas money, and lots of free food. Plus, mom got to experience a bit of my relationship with Rotary, meet a lot of locals, and listen to me crack the same jokes over and over. And I actually drove for the first time since I've been here, on the wrong side of the road and everything. It was surprisingly easy actually; I didn't jeopardize our lives or the lives of anyone else at all. Go me! (It probably helped that I had done virtually no driving for the past two years, so I wasn't having to do any major mental shifting...).

When we weren't speaking at the clubs, we filled our days with all sorts of activities: touring wineries, enjoying pinot noir, mini-hikes, driving past snow-capped mountains and crystal blue lakes, enjoying more pinot noir, flying in a two-seater mini plane over Wanaka (courtesy of a very generous Rotarian), drinking even more pinot noir...For my actual birthday on the 27th, I revisited my personal heaven, the Canyon Swing at Queenstown. It was just as AWESOME as I remembered it from Easter break, and this time I got a free jump since it was my b-day. And my mom once again proved her own awesomeness, as she actually took the plunge and did the swing too. How many people can say their mom has the guts to free fall 109m off a ledge over a water-filled canyon, I ask you?! She was definitely scared, but she came up laughing with a big smile on her face. After the adrenaline rush subsided, we stuffed ourselves with birthday ice cream and super-tasty Indian food, and then headed back to Cromwell for more pinot noir :) All in all the week-long tour was a great success and tons of fun!

Mom and I spent the last days of her trip enjoying the sites of Dunedin, which actually had really great weather the entire time. I was thrilled, as prior to her arrival it had been raining continuously for about a month. But it was sunshine-y and warm the whole time, so Mom got to see exactly why I love it here. The grand tour included the Cadbury factory, Speights brewery, Larnach Castle, a drive through the penninsula, and of course, souvenir shopping. Mom also had her first salsa lesson at the Taq; I don't know if she'll be hitting the latin dance scene any time soon back in South Carolina, but she gave it a good college try and seemed to enjoy it well enough.

So all in all it's been a pretty awesome two weeks. Mom survived the flight home, and I've got my bed all to myself once again. Coming up on my schedule is the Moro half-marathon around the penninsula, which I'm super-excited about, as well as a salsa competition in Christchurch. While I'm not competing I've got a few good friends who are, so I'll tag along as moral support and to enjoy the sure-to-be-rocking after party. Somewhere in there I should probably try to get some homework done...but we'll just have to see how that goes :). And I'll try to keep more on top of the whole posting thing, too. But for now, I'm off to enjoy the beautiful sunshine.

Life After a Studio Room

Hip hip hooray! I am thrilled to say that after a month of waiting, someone (a couple, actually) has finally agreed to sublet my room. It all happened so fast it's a little hard to believe. Last Wednesday I got a text from a young man asking to see the place, and by five o'clock that night he called me back saying he'd take it and could I be out by tomorrow. Rather short notice, but I was so thrilled someone with cash in hand wanted it how could I say no?

So I called up Graham, my super-awesome Rotary host counselor, and humbly requested the aid of he and his vehicle to move my hastily packed stuff, and by 1 p.m. the next day I was the newest resident of 15 Howe St. So far, I'm incredibly happy with the move. My 4 new flatmates are not only Kiwi (yay for more exposure to authentic Kiwi culture), but they actually TALK and INTERACT and hang out with each other (unlike the 8 people in my old flat where I could go a whole month without seeing anyone). that, and the two girls, Jess and Hannah are awesome cooks/bakers and have thus far kept me quite well-fed. So any future weight gain I wholly blame on them.

Other than that, things have been fairly low-key here. Naturally as soon as I got in the flat I developed a yucky cold/sinus infection that has been hanging on for about a week. It's pretty sweet how I get to be like "Hi, I'm your new flatmate. I come complete with tons of snot and germs, I'll be sure to share them equally with everyone." I'm doing my best to kick this bug, but so far it's been an uphill battle. Hopefully I'll prevail soon, as it's putting me waaaay behind in my marathon training.

I did have the chance to experience a classic NZ cultural experience, however. A couple weekends ago I attended the All Blacks rugby game played at the Dunedin stadium. It was definitely a bit more subdued than a USC football game--probably because the stadium only holds about a third the amount of spectators. But there was a streaker that attempted to give his boy goods their 3 minutes of fame by running onto the field. He didn't make it very far though, as he got clotheslined pretty quickly by security.

Another...hmm...interesting aspect of the rugby game was, well, just take a look at the video below. Supposedly this performance is a tradition, put on every year by the residents of one of the freshman dorms. Yes, these are ALL GUYS doing their interpretation of Swan Lake. Overall I must admit their sychronization is certainly on point, and what they lack in technique they make up for in dedication. Perhaps the streaker was inspired by the boys in booty shorts.

Other than the afore mentioned attention grabbers, I must confess the rest of my attention was hardly spent actually watching the rugby carnage. Call me unsport-y, but all in all I'd say I only watched about ten minutes of the actual game. I spent the rest of the time playing with 6-year-old Temika and 4-year-old Jayden, the niece and nephew of one of the crew--an activity I found to be infinitely more entertaining than watching the All Blacks lose to South Africa for the first time in 20 years or something.Anyways that's enough from me; as it's actually NOT raining for the first time in four days, I'm going to head outside and live it up while I still can. Cheers!

Sarah the Explorer

I can't believe I'm about to start my second semester of classes at Otago in only two days! It feels like just yesterday that I was be driven around in the pouring rain on the hunt for accommodation, completely disoriented from the combination of being on the wrong side of the road and lingering jet lag. Funny how things come full circle--which I will elaborate upon in a moment.

A lot has happened over the break; I finally got a job at a store called Wild South, which sells high-end outdoor wear (yay for paychecks) only to be told by NZ Immigration I was missing the appropriate permit I need in order to work. The frustrating part is, I did have the appropriate permit on my original visa; however in the confusing process of moving back home from my passport was misplaced and I was forced to get a new one and a rush visa the DAY before my flight over here. And unfortunately the new one does not have the appropriate language, so I'm currently $120 NZD poorer and waiting on the paperwork to go through (seems unfair doesn't it, having to pay money to work and make money...).

I'm also in the process of looking for someone to sublet my room. As much as I love the place, it is simply too great a drain on my limited finances (hence the job). It's been a little stressful, as I found a room I like but can't move into it until someone takes this place over--and I'm not sure how much longer it's current resident is willing to wait. I thought I had found a taker last week, and went so far as to cancel a scheduled trip to Wellington so that I could move. Only the person suddenly changed their mind, putting me out about $100 and back at the drawing board. (If you haven't guessed by now, it's been a bit stressful here...)

I do not like to let things like this get me down if I can possibly help it though, and I refused to have gone the entire 3+ weeks of my vacation without doing anything cool, so I planned and organized a trip up to the mountain lake town of Wanaka in about one day--my first solo travel excursion. It was really nice to be able to get away and be on my own and really take some me time, especially in an area as beautiful as Wanaka. The land surrounding the small town is absolutely breathtaking, with it's snow-capped mountains, ice blue lake, and lush valleys. In fact I'll even go so far as to say it was, as of yet, the most incredible scenery I've seen yet (sorry Milford Sound). I hiked through the Rob Roy Valley, a four-hour trek alongside a river that leads to the Rob Roy glacier, and was incredibly proud of the fact that despite being inadequately waterproofed and tromping through plenty of snow, I never once noticed how cold my feet were!

Unfortunately the second day didn't quite live up to the first; freezing wind and pounding rain relegated me to fire-warmed cafes, after I was forced to abandon an attempt at another scenic walk halfway through due to general soakage and fear of hypothermia. But so it goes. And despite the bus ride home being equally frigid, I managed to make it back to Dunedin in time to assist the free Salsa lesson at Taqueria Poblano, and dance the night away as usual.

So all in all, things worked out ok. I'll be glad to be back in class once again; as much as I love free time, I love learning even more. And hopefully soon I'll be cleared to work and find a taker for my room. Oh, and before I forget, Happy Independence Day, USA!

My work here is done.

As of Friday, June 13, 2008, I feel that I have wholly and completely fulfilled my role as an Ambassadorial Scholar for the United States of America. How did I manage to complete such an amazing feat, do you ask? By introducing one of the U.S.'s most iconic and beloved dance contributions to the people of New Zealand. I can proudly say that I, Sarah Price, taught and got an entire restaurant dancing THE MACARENA.

It all started as a typical night at Taqueria Poblano, the lone Mexican-esque eatery existing in Dunedin. Come 8:30p.m., the place transforms from a slightly overpriced purveyor of pseudo burritos and kiwi-ized chimichangas to a pulsating Latin dance party, thanks to the marketing skills of my incredible dance teacher, Alfonso. Salsa, bachata, meringue, reggaeton--you name it, it's gonna be played, as long as it's latin and SPICY. It is without a doubt my favorite night of the week, and this Friday was no exception.

Things had been going along swimmingly as usual; following the well-attended free Salsa class for newbies at the beginning of the night, the dance floor was crowded with Salseros of varying levels but equal enthusiasm. After dancing my legs into the floor for a solid hour and a half, I had just sat down to take a water break and enjoy the scene when I heard it. Da da da da-duh Heeeeeeeeeeyyyyaaaayyyyyy-ooooooooh---instantly I recognized that infamous wail and those 80s-esque, electronic synth backbeats.

I leapt to my feet immediately, grabbing my friend and fellow American Rachel mid-sentence and dragged her to the middle of the dance floor. Regressing to our past lives as thirteen year-olds, back when Macrena mania was sweeping the nation, we both sprang into action, performing those genius arm motions immovably ingrained in the minds of all our generation like there was no tomorrow.

Up to this point pretty much everyone else had stopped their salsa-ing and had been absently drifting away from the dance floor. But then they noticed these two crazy girls doing some sort of choreographed "dance" to the obnoxiously catchy song blaring from the speakers. Soon the crowd had regathered around Rachel and I, their inquisitive Kiwi faces furrowed with a mixture of bewilderment and intrigue. "Come on guys, it's easy! Just watch!" I shouted to the onlookers.

One by one, the crowd began to copy us; haltingly at first, then with increasing confidence as the Macrena's mind-numbing repetitiveness began exerting its hypnotic effects. Soon the entire floor was filled with jubilant Kiwis, thrilled with their powers of basic coordination and recall, stepping and motioning and hip swirling with all the enthusiam of sugar-buzzed pre-teens at a middle school dance. And Rachel and I were right in the thick of it, leading the pack until that very last, slightly screamy "owwwwuh" sound reverberated through the air. The best part of all though--everyone actually clapped afterwards.

That, my friends, is what it truly means to be an ambassador of culture, and no doubt will remain one of my fondest, and proudest memories of my time in New Zealand :P!