Confessions

January 10^th 2010

Reporting here from Wanaka New Zealand. I feel more alone than ever. I am reading Steinbeck’s Travels with Charlie and the way he describes it is brilliant and rings true. Being alone takes some getting used to. The day I actually leave this country and my four comrades is going to be the beginning of a rough and hard transition. I was on the phone with Danielle yesterday discussing how being away from the clan is harder than we ever would have thought (as we are usually quite independent females). We became this weird moving, traveling family organism that thinks on the same wavelength, so when you leave it, it’s like you go through withdrawals, or you have to figure out who you are and what you want, instead of every decision being one that affects four or five other individuals. The reverse is a hard transition as well. Mel and Christy will testify to this. Communal decision-making can be a little overwhelming at first--deciding whether to buy the cheap peanut butter or the expensive peanut butter, two bell peppers or one—we know what and how much to buy for our little family, and we also know when to let someone just get whatever they want, no questions asked, because when you have NO personal space, almost no individuality, sometimes you just want that particular type of cookie and you don’t want five other people asking why you want it. When this happens we look at each other and say “It’s my thing,” meaning, “Don’t ask, just let me get this one thing, I need it for my sanity,” eventually each girl notices the odd item in the grocery cart and before they can say “what’s this for?” one of us simply says, “It’s her thing,” and we all nod and understand.

 

Yesterday, Meg and her parents, Christy, Roxy, Mel, and I were all in the same town, even under the same roof. Scott and Diane are flying out of Dunedin today, and Roxy flies out next week. So the clan was going to drive three hours east to Dunedin, drop the parents off at the airport than head south with Roxy for some adventures in the  Fiordlands. Then, after Roxy leaves this Friday we all planned to head back here to Wanaka for a week of climbing. And last minute, I decided that this plan was not for me. I have no desire to drive anymore. I just want to be for awhile, somewhere. So, I gave our dear friend George a call. He was on his way to Wanaka and needed a climbing partner. I loaded up my backpack with all the essentials, my Keens, some clothes, toothbrush, and a sleeping bag, threw some food rations into my Cal Poly Organic Farm tote bag (thanks Trev), waved my dear family goodbye, and sat at a couple cafés and various curbs for about five hours waiting for George.

This five-hour limbo period was a low point for me. Which brings me to the saddest point of this post. I am leaving this beloved country in two weeks. Yep, for reals. Today is day number 98 of my homeless extravaganza and I feel like it is an experience I am going to reflect on and dream about for the rest of my life. Reasons for going home are mostly monetary. We thought we were going to be on the road for a month, maybe two, which has stretched to four and nobody looks like they are trading life with Connie for anything normal and stationary anytime soon. So, my life as a vagabond is coming to a close on January 23^rd at 3:45pm. I feel that my nomadic days are far from over, but this chapter is, and it’s going to be something hard to get used to.

For the past few weeks, I have been trying to set some things up for me to go home to, housing, a job etc. I thought that the housing thing was something I could totally nail into stone. But yesterday, during my time on the curb, I found out that all such plans fell through. This new bit of information threw me into quite the pity-party. I felt like a five year old that should be able to throw a fit, make a few phone calls and get what I want. And since I am a million miles away, the phone-call making is expensive and  all the temper tantrums won’t get me something constant to hold onto when I get back, such is life, and this annoys me. Growing up has its perks but really it sort of blows. So I sulked on the curb, cursing the Pacific Ocean for making my life so difficult, and my 70 pound pack for making it impossible for me to stand up without holding onto something. And the truth is that things haven’t been so easy for me here for more than monetary reasons. I have gone through some real hard family ish while in this hemisphere. All of which I will be sorting through and unpacking for months, years to come, and perhaps my hopes for something as small as housing meant much more to me because I just wanted something to hold onto in the midst of life feeling so uncertain around me. So, I bought myself an incredible chocolate cookie from my favorite place in Wanaka, the Cinema Paradiso Café, and resumed my wonderful book. Thank God for Steinbeck, his brilliant writing, and sugar.

So, now I don’t know what to do. I would like to go back to SLO because as I’ve been away it seems to be  the perfect place to surf, learn to climb, volunteer, get involved with the community, and be overly happy. But then, now that housing isn’t a definite there, it makes me think of all the possibilities. Perhaps I should move to Yosemite for a few months? I could definitely learn to climb there. But this place is the keeper of my childhood experiences, and we all know that we are often too critical of where we grew up…

I am mildly obsessed with Portland, so perhaps I should go straight there? I was thinking that this move would happen a little later, sixth months, a year, two years, when Megan would move with me etc. But why not? Or maybe I should live at home with my family in the Bay Area and work in the uber-cool town of Berkeley, work at the Berkeley Bowl? Stalk Alice Waters? Yes and yes.

Any thoughts, suggestions, ideas?

Maybe I should just save some money and move to France with Kendra? Spain with Jessie?

So this is where I am at. I would like to be enjoying the present. I actually feel like I am enjoying the present and I will be readily enjoying it in an hour when George picks me up to go climb. But, as I am human, it is hard to not be consumed by the unknown of the future sometimes. I hate that.

Something awesome—the boys I wrote about earlier who have the bike kitchen in Dunedin, well, Rory, one of them invited us to his parents holiday house in Wanaka this last week. Mel and I camped on their lawn for a few days. And when I decided to stay here in Wanaka, I went back to the house, knocked on the door and was welcomed back in. The hospitality of this country is entirely inspiring. I have a lot of paying it forward to do when I am back in the states. So if any of you are ever traveling in my direction, you must stop and stay with me. I will take care of you.

The family cabin is wonderful and feels like the ones up by Tahoe or any of our mountain lakes. I am staying in a room with Rory’s super cool sister, Shelley, who is my age, and has just graduated from art school. We are reading books and lounging around. I am trying to convince her to give climbing a try today.

 

(A family dinner with the Hardings)

Rory’s mom, Chris, is a baller cook, and every meal is a party in the kitchen. I find my joy chopping vegetables and doing dishes. It makes me not feel like such a mooch. Fraser, Rory’s dad, likes his espresso and bought himself a wonderful espresso machine as a birthday present to himself a few years back. So I get to have fun making lattes for people and surprising them with some amateur latte art.

All to say, that all is well. I’ll write more about the future climbing experiences. And in only a few days time, I will be in your hemisphere, back where cell phones are cheap and Trader Joe’s is not a myth.

January 14, 2010

I am out of the depths of despair. Actually I came out realizing that I was in New Zealand, which, despite it’s proximity to the Antarctic is a far cry from anything miserable. I am still hanging out at 130 Beacon Point Rd with the Harding family. It’s just Rory’s sister Leigh and I and her parents these days. And I don’t really know how to express how much I love this family. I can’t believe how much they have made me feel welcomed and a part of the fam.

For the past two days I have gotten up early to drink my coffee with Fraser as he does his morning crossword puzzle and I read a book. About fifteen minutes later my new kiwi mum waltzes down the spiral staircase in this little bathrobe only to invite me on either a mountain bike ride or a hike. Secretly, I hate rushing my mornings, but I say yes every time and when I’m riding a bike through the new morning air I never regret the decision. Two days ago we rode along the pristine and gorgeous Clutha and Cardrona rivers.  Yesterday we hiked Mt. Iron. We come home around 12:30 tired and hungry and make a great lunch to eat with Fraser and Leigh. It’s so fun to convene in the middle of the day around the table and discuss the morning adventures and our anticipation for the afternoon. Yesterday we toasted fresh ciabata  bread, made beautiful sandwiches, and played a game of 500 (the kiwi classic card game that Fraser is teaching me).

After lunch, I do the dishes and get ready to go climb with George. He usually shows up around 1:15 and we head off to a new wall. George is a much better climber than I am so it’s been great to be really challenged by the climbs that we do. And because there’s only two of us, I’m getting tons of practice. I wake up every morning with my entire body aching and me thinking I hope Chris doesn’t want to hike today. But she always does and I never regret going. And so my life in Wanaka goes...

Today is a little different. Leigh and I have spent the morning reading books and trading music. Wanaka has been good for my reading. (Perhaps it’s the fact that I haven’t had any internet to distract me and I haven’t spent miles traveling on the road).  Since I graduated I had only finished one books before two weeks ago. This is embarrassing, especially since the book was Harry Potter book one. Yep. Oh man. In the last sixth months I’ve probably started 8 books, gotten a quarter of the way done and then lost interest. Which is absurd because most of them I know will be good books. It’s just me and my impatience or perhaps distracted mind. But I got sucked into The Alchemist, which is such an easy and good read. It put me back in the mode, and I have kept my book choices small and accessible. This past week I finished Steinbeck’s Travel’s with Charlie (which was GREAT). Yesterday I finished his small novel about a Nazi occupation called The Moon is Down, and once again Steinbeck did not disappoint. I am excited to read East of Eden when I get home as I’ve heard it’s one of the best and now that I am in a Steinbeck mode, it’s seems to be the next thing to do. For now I am working on Spirits Rebelious, a book the Megan traded for with her Dharma Bums. We’ll see how it goes. It’s another short read, so it will make me feel real good about myself and all the books I am finally finishing.

January 20, 2010

The girls are back in town! My time with the Harding’s ended with some really good hugs and promises to know each other and keep in touch for forever.

I’m so happy to be with my real fam however. We have set up camp on the banks of the Clutha river, and might I just say we have some prime time real estate. It’s gorgeous, smells like the Sierra Nevadas, and only costs six bucks a night.

The girls had a hell of a time getting here however (Hitching for ten hours…yikes on bikes). And I am sure they will write a wonderful post about the adventure.

As for now, we are happy as larks in our new found home on the river. We are climbing everyday, making good food on our campstove, and are happy to be together.

Danielle is having crazy adventures on the North Island that I can’t wait for her to post about. Rafting down the Wanganui River, surf trips to the Coromandel Penninsula etc…

So, I have three days left!!! Ah! I don’t know what to do with myself, except to enjoy every last moment.

Last night, Christy, Mel, and I went on a night walk along the river. The moon was out and the night felt something like San Luis in the summer—perfect. We were discussing all the things we have learned on this trip and the dreams we have for the future (buying a piece of property in the middle of nowhere on a river where we can place our 1970’s caravans and build an outdoor kitchen etc…). We walked until we found this old river dock that jutted out into the water. So we sat there for a good twenty minutes with our feet dangling over the Clutha’s great current. I think the moment will be branded on my memory for years to come. And the various dreams we have stirred up, probably won’t happen for a few years, but give us some time, and we’ll make it happen.

Much love from down under,

Lauren