Monday 23 July 2012


28 years ago today I was born in a hospital in Windhoek, Namibia. Seems like an awfully long time ago! 
I read somewhere that the first breath you take establishes your connection with the land you are born on. You take the essence of it into your body and it becomes part of your blood and life force, defining and grounding you. I feel privileged to have been born and growing up in one of the most beautiful and wild countries in the world.
Being on the complete opposite side of the world today made me think of these things.
For my birthday, I got a much needed warm winter jacket, complements of my wonderful parents-in-law, a shiatsu massage from Russell, a red rose from our garden and even a happy birthday sang to me by my beloved, with tea in bed!
I feel full and happy; I think this is what a birthday should feel like. Quiet, reflective, simple and full of love.



Thursday 19 July 2012


Russell caught me and the moon kitten catching a snooze this afternoon...how cute are those paws!! Looking at the pics he took I realised that I now have mum-hands.
Let me epxplain;
I used to stare at both my mother and grandmother's hands for hours during relentlessly boring church services that I did not hear a word of. Instead I was fascinated with the way my mother's hands moved and folded; the way her ring would show off against her skin, the way small veins would pop back up if I gently pushed them in and how my finger tips would feel caressing the silky skin between her finger joints.
My grandmother's hands were delicate and long and her skin powdery soft like crinkled paper. I would softly pinch the skin between my fingers and it would stay there for a few seconds before going back down. Her hands were an endless tapestry of lines and folds that would keep my attention enraptured for ages.
I would constantly compare my young small hands with my mother and my grandmother during these sermons, sometimes even feeling a bit jealous that mine didn't tell stories like theirs did. Looking at my hands now though I know that time has passed and that it is my turn to have my mother's hands. My hands look exactly like hers did in those days. It makes me smile.


Sunday 8 July 2012

of earthquakes and ostriches



Mmm. So we experienced an earthquake for the first time since we've moved into our current flat. And it was a big one! 7.0 on the Richter scale, but apparently because it was so deep, there was no damage, just a lot of rattling around (interestingly enough the one that hit Christchurch was 6.3, but directly below the surface of the city). The quake was also centred off the Taranaki coast, about 400km from where we are. Apparently there was another quake the next day of 5.7 magnitude, but we didn't feel it, also very deep. It was just another reminder of the volatility of the piece of land we're on and how much we are at the mercy of nature, and how despite our technology and toys we are essentially helpless in the face of raw natural power. For us a simultaneously disturbing and comforting fact :-)

Anyhoo.


We had the strangest, loveliest day yesterday. We walked to the cliffs next to the sea and then turned inwards to the hills and completed an epic walk up to the wind turbines. It was a magnificent day; sunny and misty at the same time with the moistened hills glistening in the bits of sunlight that would break through every once in a while.
Strangely enough, we came across a male ostrich (in Wellington?!) behind a fence who, as soon as he spotted us, went down on his knees and preformed a rather spectacular mating dance. After I got over my initial blushes I at least managed to take a video :)
It is rare to see a male doing the mating dance, unless you live on an ostrich farm of course, but to have them do it for you is something I have never heard of. To see hundreds of males in the wild doing it at the same time is something to behold, and something I have only ever seen on Discovery channel.

So here are some pics of the day's adventure:

Look at the snow! Those are the Kaikoura ranges on the South Island.








See the red rocks? Here is the Maori legend as to how NZ originated:

The legend of Maui and the magic fishhook.
 
Maui was a demi-god, who lived in Hawaiiki. He possessed magic powers that not all of his family knew about.
One day when he was very young, he hid in the bottom of his brothers' boat in order to go out fishing with them. Once out at sea, Maui was discovered by his brothers, but they were not able to take him back to shore as Maui made use of his magic powers, making the shoreline seem much further away than it was in reality.
So the brothers continued rowing, and once they were far out into the ocean Maui dropped his magic fishhook over the side of the waka. After a while he felt a strong tug on the line. This seemed to be too strong a tug to be any ordinary fish, so Maui called to his brothers for assistance.
After much straining and pulling, up suddenly surfaced Te Ika a Maui (the fish of Maui), known today as the North Island of New Zealand. Maui told his brothers that the Gods might be angry about this, and he asked his brothers to wait while he went to make peace with the Gods.
However, once Maui had gone his brothers began to argue among themselves about the possession of this new land. They took out their weapons and started pounding away at the catch. The blows on the land created the many mountains and valleys of the North Island today.
The South Island is known as Te Waka a Maui (the waka of Maui). Stewart Island, which lies at the very bottom of New Zealand, is known as Te Punga a Maui (Maui's anchor), as it was the anchor holding Maui's waka as he pulled in the giant fish.

 The red rocks are said to be the fish's blood as the brothers beat it with their weapons.
 









Devil's Gate



Bianca and I slogging up the first hill!





























Radar tower on one of the hills. Looked to me like a James Bond villain's hideout.




An ostritch...as you would naturally find on any old hill in Wellington...






Monday 2 July 2012

Acolytes of the Flux


“Belize: Hell or heaven?

[Roy indicates "Heaven" through a glance]

Belize: Like San Francisco.

Roy Cohn: A city. Good. I was worried... it'd be a garden. I hate that shit.

Belize: Mmmm. Big city. Overgrown with weeds, but flowering weeds. On every corner a wrecking crew and something new and crooked going up catty corner to that. Windows missing in every edifice like broken teeth, fierce gusts of gritty wind, and a gray high sky full of ravens.

Roy Cohn: Isaiah.

Belize: Prophet birds, Roy. Piles of trash, but lapidary like rubies and obsidian, and diamond-colored cowspit streamers in the wind. And voting booths.

Roy Cohn: And a dragon atop a golden horde.

Belize: And everyone in Balencia gowns with red corsages, and big dance palaces full of music and lights and racial impurity and gender confusion. And all the deities are creole, mulatto, brown as the mouths of rivers. Race, taste and history finally overcome. And you ain't there.

Roy Cohn: And Heaven?

Belize: That was Heaven, Roy.”


 - Tony Kushner, "Angels in America"