Summer is Here

After 9 months of living in Christchurch, there are some words that I have not the liberty of using and have been completely erased from my consciousness. But one of them have suddenly sprouted back into my brain. It is like inadvertently stepping on a rake and it suddenly springs up and hits you right on the nose. You are quickly reminded that it is there on the ground and that you must be wary of what it can do to you.

I am talking of the word 'heat'. After all, it is already summer in this part of the hemisphere. It is that time of the year when you "dream of a white Christmas" and "folks dress up like eskimos", but you see Santa perspiring profusely as he is hurrying down the street to buy some ice cream from the corner dairy. It is like being back in that little coconut island by the great sea.

Alas, the white Christmas remains a dream for this brownie after being transplanted into the land where the water flushes in the opposite direction (or so they say, but I have not made an official study on that yet). But don't get me wrong. After almost a year of being in a white Christmasy climate, you begin to be thankful that there is such a thing as global warming. Of course I am against mass destruction, and I wholeheartedly support self preservation, but sometimes I get distracted and wander from my path. Then prolonged exposure to heat snaps me back to reality like being violently nudged by my wife after almost falling asleep on a boring speaker. And then you wish for Autumn to come long before you have opened your Christmas presents!

The Kiwi Balut is Back

It has already been more than two months since the last time I wrote here. Suffice to say that I have been too busy on other matters that needed much attention... (and that is just my lame excuse for being too lazy to write! *wide grin*)

A lot happened in those brief span of time. First, my wife and I celebrated our 13th year of marriage with a gourmet banquet that only I can whip up. Of course, having no budget for a fancy restaurant helped, but it was my sheer genius with the pots and pans and my ability to convince my wife that eating together in the house was more romantic are what made this magical moment a night she never forgot. But let's not delve on why. Instead let us move on, shall we?

And then we got our permanent residence status here in New Zealand. Yes, Onie and I can now live indefinitely here in the land where the kiwis roam. We are indeed kiwi baluts now.

Shortly, my big family decided to come and visit us, and to see for themselves why we chose to live here in this far away land. It was a fun week for everyone and most of them wanted to stay or come back. But I know a couple of them still pray and deeply wishes that we change our minds and come back to the coconut land (and I think it is pretty much obvious who they are!). But with 'Neanderthal' massacres and such, it would take a very compelling reason for me to return to the country of my birth.

Lastly, we have moved to a new home. It is a three level, three bedroom apartment very near the Christchurch Central Business District. That sounded posh and big, but in reality it isn't. Wait until you come over and visit and you would know why. :)

Until then...

Asian Rules?

It has been quite a while since my last post here. And as I write this piece I am sitting on a chair on the third floor of the Christchurch Central Library overlooking the Avon River. It is a lazy Sunday morning and a perfect cloudless day.

The warm temperature means the kiwis are all out today to the woods, or the lakes, or the mountains, or to anywhere the great outdoor beckons them. That leaves us Asians, and a number of white tourists, in charge of the city. Yes, Christchurch has turned yellow (or brown) even for just a day.

Which made me thinking what if we balut eating people were really in charged of this city? I would imagine all the fishes gone in the Avon. Bigger malls would be littered everywhere. And the smell of asian spices would fill the air.

On the other hand, I would imagine that Christchurch would have been more progressive and bigger with all sorts of businesses being put up.

But the question is would you like a bigger Christchurch. Er, I think I would like this city the way it is. And if I crave for something Asian, I can always fly to Auckland.

Things I Know You Know About Me!

I have been doing nothing this weekend and decided to just browse the internet on my bed. I was getting bored by the minute until I chanced upon "Peetol's 25" on my facebook account. I remember I had fun writing this and I just want to share it again here. For those who have not read it yet, here it is. For those who have, well, just go over it again and you will surely enjoy it for the second time.

Here goes....

1) I usually score very high on IQ tests...so, there is hope for mankind!

2) When I was still young, my ambition was to become an engineer who build bridges...so don't be baffled when I do crazy things with the mahjong tiles.

3) I can sit or stand still for half a day without getting bored...which makes me a very good security guard if ever I need to change profession.

4) I (with a capital I) consider myself musically gifted. (Onie, please stop smirking!)

5) I learned to play the piano by myself when I was 5 years old. I was considered too young to be taught by a piano teacher, so I studied the basics and observed my mother's piano technique.

6) At age 7, I used to play "Ballade Pour Adeline" on the piano during parties at home to impress girls my age, but ended up being smooched by my mom's friends, so I decided to end my career early.

7) I started formal piano lessons at age 10, but my teacher always left me to learn by myself, because she somehow knew I was not learning from her (not that she is a bad teacher...it is just that I am the worst student!)

8) When I was in grade six, I developed a crush on a girl 4 years older than me. I would participate in essay writing contests just so I can sit beside her and join her on stage during awarding ceremonies. *GRIN*

9) My parents bought Peps a band set (drums, 2 electric guitars, and a bass electric guitar) as a Christmas gift when I was in first year high school. I ended up owning the set and learned to play the guitars and drums.

10) I eventually formed a band in high school and we played Fra Lippo Lippi and other 80's cheesy songs. We had at least 1 major concert per year...yup, I was rich back then!

11) I used to excel in academics until grade 3, when I lost interest in achieving anything in school because of a neighbor who deliberately did not give me a gift for just placing third, and rewarded my older brothers who came in 2nd and 1st respectively in their classes.

12) I was so lazy at school that I only used up 4 notebooks for subjects in 4 years of high school... but I had dozens of other notebooks filled up with drawings and scribbles.

12) I suffered my first "cinco" in life when I was in college. It was in Algebra (first year), which I thought I did not deserve, so I retook it that summer and redeemed myself by getting an "uno".

13) After tasting my first "cinco", I suddenly got the hang of it and collected quite a few thereafter!

14) I did not graduate on time in college. It took me 9 years to get a college degree...and I am not a doctor!

15) I am a frustrated basketball player. In elementary, I was taller than basketball player Kenneth Duremdes by three inches (we are of the same age, although I am a batch higher than him). I took up the game during my second year in high school and, together with Kenneth, was a reserve on the varsity team. On my third year, Kenneth suddenly grew to 6 ft, and I remained at 5'7". Not surprisingly, he was elevated to the varsity team, and I quit playing on top of my game!

16) I used to play soccer in my younger days, but has to stop when I grew rounder than the ball.

17) If I did not took up business in college, I would have been an infamous rock star by now.

18) I seriously considered auditioning for "Ang TV" way back when I was still within the show's age limit.

19) I used to sleep on the same bed with a girl named Cheska from high school and all through college. (Most intriguing indeed!)

20) I would ride my BMX bike every afternoon from when I was 5 years old until I reached 15 years old.

21) When I was a child, I would climb up trees but did not know how to get down.

22) I walk funny, a trait I seem to have inherited...just observe my brothers' walk!

23) I learned Mu Do Kwan (Martial Arts) when I was young, but never got to use it...one of my useless talents!

24) I recently added a removable body part, and now I have two! (guess what! harhar..harkkk...*gurgle*...!)

25) I married Onie at a young age, and this has been my only shining achievement in life!

The Fog

Have you ever seen John Carpenter's The Fog in the '80s? It starred Jamie Lee Curtis (yes, in one of her horror/slasher films) and Janet Leigh. I distinctly remember this movie because my little brother was scarred for life after watching it.

For years he would be terrified of the fog and thought it would bring with it the power to make the dead undead.

Well, it didn't. And I know this because Christchurch has been in a fog for almost a week. Yes, I am not kidding. You wake up in the morning to a mist covered sun. You walk to the city with just a few meters of visibility. And you sleep soundly at night knowing that the fog will not be missed the following morning.

After a day or so, you begin to get used to it. And now that it is sunny again, you kind of miss that feel of Evian spray on your face as soon as you walk outside that door. Plus, it seems to be warmer when the fog descends and stays on the ground than on a clear day like this.

Now it's back to a wintry morning day. I woke up to a freezing 0 deg Celsius temperature and hoping that spring will hastily make its way to the land of the big white cloud. One more week to go and winter will officially be over!

The Pollen, Me, and the Sneeze

Spring is just around the corner! I know this because I was sneezing my way to work this morning. No, its not New Zealand's more famous breed of swine flu that's causing me to sound like a sputtering engine submerged in the Avon River. It is that yellowish and powdery substance known to modern science simply as the pollen.

Yes, pollen do cause some people to sneeze. And in temperate climates like here in Christchurch, plants and trees throw a multitude of them away at the very first chance they get after hibernating for almost three months.

Think of it this way. After spending about three months cooped up in your house, there is that certain urge to just throw open the door and party with anyone you might come upon. There is of course a better analogy, but only Papo with his not so clean mind would be able to get it.

But who is complaining about these sneezes. It is in fact a welcoming sound. It means warmer days are just around the corner, and I can't wait to see the flowers bloom again.

A Haircut At Last

After five whole months since arriving in New Zealand, I finally had my first haircut. And why did it took me that long? Well for starters, the price of getting one scared the hell out of me. With my limited grooming budget of $5, which is almost PhP160, I seem to fail to chance upon any establishment that offer their services at such balut-reasonable price.

And so to be kiwi-reasonable, I then increased that urgently important grooming budget to double the previous amount. I was able to find some dubious shops within that budget but it was always closed when I get there. You see, shops do open in Christchurch, but by the time you get off from work, the shops people are hurriedly going home as well. Talk about enthusiasm for work.

Some shops do open beyond office hours, but it will cost you, and, having our strict set of priorities, I do not want to eat into our shopping budget.

And so my hair grew and grew to proportions that would have Samson able to carry the world. Delilah would have deliriously wanted to cut it if she had chanced upon me.

But being in winter, long hair has its own perks. It kept my head and neck warm enough that I begun to miss my fancy caps and beanies. And so as the cold days gone by getting a haircut just drifted out of my consciousness.

Then the signs of spring pulled me back to reality. After a hearty meal at a Korean restaurant last Sunday, Onie and I made that big decision to borrow from our shopping budget and go for the $17 haircut that was open that day, a whopping 70% increase in previously rated acceptable amount.

We were greeted at the door by an old Japanese gentleman with long hair. Think of Doc from the 'Back to the Future' series but with slanted eyes. Onie engaged in small talk as I was being prepared for the eventful haircut, and the only useful information we had was that his name is Osaka, or something similar.

When prodded as to what type of haircut I wanted, I pointed to a picture in the wall of a handsome young man with short hair. And to his delight, he started clipping away making grunts and moaning sounds that are reminiscent of artists engrossed with their work on their masterpieces.

A full hour later, he stepped back and admired his work, while I sneaked a smile towards Onie who was bemused at the way a PhP540 haircut turned out. Having owned a hair salon in that small town in the boondocks of the balut eating nation, I would say we were not amused.

But, as the saying goes, a bad haircut is just two weeks away from a good one. All I have to do is wait!

To Wellington and Back

I'm back at the office now, staring blankly at the white screen of my computer. Just yesterday, we were in windy Wellington, skipping happily to anywhere our feet would take us. The big smile on our faces only accentuated our 'asian-ish' features, pushing our eyes to slits like a Chinese drawing. But who cares when you are in Welly. We balut eating brownies scatter the streets of the central business district.

In fact, our taxi driver to the airport on our last day was an ilonggo from Bacolod, and I was thrilled to brush up with the language that I have grown up with in the quaint little town of Marbel (which is now a city, by the way).

On our first day in Wellington, we also met up with a small group of Filipino friends, most of which know Poms from ACI Systems, and over indulged on Filipino food while watching a movie on DVD that is coincidentally currently showing on all cinemas all over the world. (*wink*) How more brown skinned can you get?

The next day, we met up with some friends from my university days and had lunch at a Japanese restaurant. Yup, we want our rice! After that, we had authentic gelato on a winter's day. But that's our way of giving tribute to our kiwi brethren.

On our last day, we rode the Wellington Cable Car (which is actually a funicular) up to the Botanic Gardens, and walked our way down the hill towards the Parliament buildings and on to both the old and new St. Paul Anglican Church, both icons in New Zealand architecture.

The evening saw us riding Air New Zealand back towards Christchurch to a sea of white skins. For a brief period there, we felt alone again, but the cold air of the South Island slapped us back to a grin as moonlight bathes the snow covered Alps in the distant horizon.

Winter Rambling

It has been a while since my last post here. Nothing much has change, really. Except I have noticed that longer days are slowly creeping back.

Ah, the sun! I used to hide from the sun. Now I chase it around like a dog does to its tail. And yes, I do the tongue flapping as well with much gusto.

It has been a harsh winter here in Christchurch lately. Not that it snowed. It just rained and rained. Last week was a respite with beautiful bright sunny days, but today the rain came back with a vengeance.

This morning the winds were even strong rendering my puny little umbrella useless. But if the rains were relentless, I was even more adamant. I braved it and rode the bus to work. Luckily I did not multiply, reinforcing the fact that my similarity with a Gremlin comes only to appearances.

And I know what you are thinking, but nope! I have curbed my appetite already. In fact, I am down 10 pounds since I arrived here in New Zealand. My daily walks and weekend treks are all coming to fruition.

I just wish winter would end so I can start running again.

So bye for now. This weekend, Christine, Onie and I will be heading out to Wellington for a windy weekend bivouac (except that we are staying in a four star hotel)! See you there?

My Camera is Back

I got my camera back from the repairs last week. They had to replace the shutter switch after just below 50,000 clicks. And they claimed the shutter will be good to a 100,000 clicks. Oh well, that is consumer electronics in a nutshell. We consumers are still easily drawn into buying products that are hastily and shabbily built by companies to beat the competition to a draw, knowing that they are bound to release an "improved" product iteration probably in a year's time.

But there is only us to blame.

So I trooped down to New Brighton Beach here in Christchurch last Saturday morning to test drive my camera. It was a good sunny winter's day and perfect for a walk.

All seem to be back to normal for my camera. Here are a couple of pics I took from it.

The Bus+The Driver = Memories

I ride the bus home from work almost everyday. I always arrive at the bus stop a quarter past five and just in time to see my ride manage the corner of Colombo St and Gloucester St.

Yesterday was the same, except that it was one nostalgic trip. Let me narrate the events for you.

As I boarded the bus, I was greeted by a thickly accented Chinese guy. Before I can even tap my card on the machine, the bus was rolling already. And faster than an express, I found myself at the doorstep of where we are staying in Parklands a mere 20 minutes later. En route we passed on two Number 70 buses, the same numbered bus that I was on, and one of which was an Express. Now that normally should never happen since buses are spaced at least 15 minutes from each other. But our driver banged the pedal to the metal, not minding the 15 ton weight that he was lagging behind the wheels. The big round visible signs with the number 50 signifying the speed limit does not seem to bother him. And on the roundabouts, he seem to think that he has the right of way, always.

Ah, yesterday brought back memories of the Philippines. The feeling of terror when riding the bus jolts me back to the streets of Manila, where there is a significant chance you could get into an accident on the road. Everyday when you step on that bus in that big metropolitan city of the brownies, you just feel numb from praying that you could get to work and back in one piece.

As I disembarked yesterday's bus, the cold air brought me back to New Zealand and made me ponder on the state of my life at this stage. But that is another story. And until then, let us hope that that is the last time I got on a trip down memory lane, so to speak. :)

No More Shopping, Mother

I have been to the street bazaars of Hong Kong, and to the souqs of Dubai. I have spent time inside Istanbul's Grand Bazaar, and on Champs Elysees in Paris. I have seen the fashion streets of Milan, and London's High Street. I also had a stroll through Beverly Hills and even the Wal Marts and Targets of that large consumer country known as the United States of America.

You will find in them all the goodies and stuff that you can ever imagine money can buy. You will drown in the people that flock to these hallowed grounds of shopping. I always was fascinated by this phenomenon. Consumerism was always king in the Philippines, sharing the same philosophy in spending as that of the Americans. In fact, this little country has two of the largest malls in the world.

Arriving in New Zealand changed all that. It is not that consumer products here are lacking. You can almost buy everything you need and want, albeit limited. But it is just that there are a lot more things to do than being boxed in a mall. Here, you would rather go to the grocery and buy food to bring to that special place in the mountains. You would rather spend the day mountain biking through the woods, or go tramping to see the scenic views of the hills.

It is the kiwi way of life. In fact, for being a first world country, the average age of cars here in New Zealand is 12.5 years, more than double that of the United Kingdom at 6 years. What does that mean? It means that an average kiwi really do not care that they have the newest and shiniest cars in life. It means that they would rather spend their money on houses, as evident on household expenditure numbers from Statistics New Zealand. And this further points to the fact that there is that everlasting kiwi dream of someday owning that magnificent house with a view of the mountains and the sea (or is it just me?).

So if you are planning to go to New Zealand for a shopping spree, then you should better think twice, or you will just end up with a bunch of kiwi wools that would probably be useless in the hot paradaisal islands collectively called the Philippines. But I promise you there are a lot more fun activities you can do to spend your money with.

A Most Surprising and Fascinating Trip

Yesterday (21.June.09), Simon drove us up the coast and unto a park just a few miles past Kaikoura. He was mentioning about seal pups playing while their parents are off to sea to hunt for food. Little did we know that it was a sight to behold, and one that would stick with you especially if you love animals.

The trip as it is was already a sight in its own right. We departed Christchurch through the small town of Kaiapoi and unto SH1. The scenery kept us awake the whole time, with barren trees because of winter, and the snow capped mountains of the Southern Alps clearly visible even if its a hundred miles away. Our drive swept us through some quaint towns such as the balut's favourite Omihi (which still elicits a smile on my face even though I have been past this town more than a couple of times already) and Cheviot, before winding up the mountains and down into Kaikoura District.

We also saw a hawk by the road feasting on a dead possum. We drove past sheep farms, deer farms, and even some wine estates with its vast grapevines.

The last leg took us on a coastal drive with the sea waves pounding on rocks to our right, and the gentle hills with streaks of snow at the top to our left.

As we reached Kaikoura, we stopped at a very nice cafe to get ourselves some lunch, courtesy of Simon. Onie, Christine, and Simon had pan fried fish and I got myself a very nice and creamy seafood chowder. Bea had potato wedges.

After lunch, we pressed on and reached a park just beside the road. It was a mere 10 minute walk up a slight incline to reach a small waterfalls. But that is not what we were there for. We were there for the baby seals. See for yourself!

The Most Peaceful Nation

As you may have already heard, New Zealand was judged as the most peaceful nation on Earth by the Global Peace Index, topping such countries as Denmark, Norway, Iceland, Austria and Sweden. Yes, the land of the tough kiwi blokes are full of softies after all.

Hard to believe when you often see the typical kiwi as that Marlboro cowboy sort of toughie but with no boots. And I mean that literally. They walk the streets on barefoot. Maybe they just believe in their hearts that New Zealand is the land of the 'Lord of The Rings', and that they must walk in the fashion befitting a hobbit. But you must try it sometime because it is so liberating, and it brings back memories of our childhood days when we used to kick off our shoes from school and ran loose in the house, er, garden. (No slip up there, and I still stand by my story that it was Kraut, the german shepherd, who broke the precious vase that afternoon while I was the only one in the house.)

Seriously, though, it is not surprising that New Zealand tops the list. I mean this country has the perennial history of sending scores of troops overseas to war that came back seriously depleted. These guys are lovers, not fighters. They would just not admit it. C'mon, think about Russel Crowe, who is a kiwi, and you will figure it out. Hint, he won best actor in the Academy for his work in ''The Gladiator', but most of you will remember him more as that dapper, romantic but hallucinatory professor in 'A Beautiful Mind'.

Toughness is not innate. It is taught. I have seen how the kiwis raise their children, and to be tough is instilled at the youngest age possible. Young kids the age of Nathan and Pio are left to hang on a tree, or swing as high as three times their height. You can just picture out in your mind Mommy fainting at the first sight of this.

Yes, these kiwi kids are brought up to be rugby legends the likes of Colin Meads, or the more marketable Dan Carter who earns in the millions. No wonder New Zealand never run out of superb rugby players.

But that just must be it. I mean, how in real life would you see a bunch of heavy set guys grappling and tackling each other, almost always ending up bloodied, and yet come out friends after a round of rugby game? This is tough, man, and I know because I came from a brood of four boys and no girls. Our play was not as rough as a rugby game (not even close), but if one of my brothers as much as pinched me, we would have ended throwing punches at each other that would go on way past bedtime and even until the next morning (which I can still distinctly remember doing inside the car on our way to school!).

Inside the tough exterior of a kiwi lies a soft heart. It is the country that contributes the largest to the UN Peacekeeping efforts. It is the only country that has a very good relationship with its neighboring countries (well, you might argue that there is only Australia, but let me remind you that it is considered a continent). And most of all, it is the land of that skirt wearing dude who is best remembered for his dramatic role as a scholarly professor with a beautiful mind.

Lolly Folly

Lollies! For us balut eating brownies, that word may sound really weird. Try to take a moment and see if you can think what that word means for the kiwis and aussies as well.

Nope, it is not what you think. Lollies are what we call candies in our part of the world. And people here are crazy about these stuff. We eat lollies for afternoon tea (merienda).

At parties, people actually bring lollies for appetizers.

We also have lollies when we go to the cinemas. And to top it all up, domestic airlines offer either chips (chichiria), biscuits (cookies), or lollies as cabin food. Yup, these things are actually given the same level of credence as actual food.

I remember when we were younger, I would get scolded for eating lollies for lunch. Now I actually do that and I do not seem to feel guilty.

Of course one can argue that there are almost no nutritional value in lollies, but when you are so busy and no time to go down to the corner and grab something to eat, lollies are your best choice, second only to fish and chips, my all time favorite!

Ah, fish and chips! *sigh, staring dreamily*

But that is another story!

The Cold, The Flu, and the Camera

It has been three months since we landed here in New Zealand. And what a difference this country has transformed itself. When we arrived, the trees were green and the days were longer. Now the leaves are brown and most are lying on the ground. Sunrise comes at half past seven and starts to hide at half past five. It is very unlike a brownies' tropical domain where I came from.

Winter has officially arrived in this part of the world, and it is not welcomed by everyone. It is that time of the year when people begin to get crazy and depressed. But that does not seem to bother us kiwi baluts. Life goes on for us, albeit a little bit colder.

Er, I may have understated that a bit. Let me rephrase that part. It is a lot colder. In fact, way, way too cold. Just this morning, I woke up to a -1 degree C temperature. Our bed was warm and kept pulling me back like a maiden's call on a dreary winter voyage. How could it not be when we had four layers of blanket on us.

On my way to the office, I had to wear four layers of clothing as well. It kept me warm enough to brave a walk across a park for a longer but more scenic route, a habit that I had picked up from Pom's GPS.

It is also the time for colds and flu, swine or otherwise. Of course my trimmer body now belongs to the latter. But with three more months to go before it gets warmer, I may be back to my swiney self in no time.

And winter not only affects humans and swine. It also got into my camera. Yup, something happened to its sensors and Canon has to replace it. So I could not share any pictures for at least a month.

But, as I said, life goes on. And just before my camera gave out, we were able to make a loop through the hills of Banks Peninsula. Our drive took us from the hills of Sumner to Godley Head, down to the ports of Lyttelton and up to the peaks of Port Hills before descending to the city fringes of Christchurch. It was very cold that day, so we just survived a few minutes on the peak, but long enough to get the beautiful picture of the peninsula opening to the sea and a rainbow in the horizon.

It has been more than a week since and I am eager to go out there and explore more. Maybe on my next post I will be sharing more of my adventures. Until then this piece will have to do. *sigh*

A Bout About Speech

Imagine Sir Anthony Hopkins in a scene on the movie Meet Joe Black, explaining the intricacies of a board meeting to Brad Pitt. I know you can almost hear that perfect English gentleman accent, delivered in a very well mannered way. I used to fancy myself having that same accent. Little did I know then that I will be living among Englishmen in a country replete with British heritage. Alas, what I know now is that I will never, even in my wildest dreams, acquire such eloquence.

Yeah mate. I'm mo'e li'e the ol' Benny Hill o'er the abbey. If you can catch Jamie Oliver on food channel; that, my dear, is what I would probably sound in a couple more years. Rough on the edges, brusque, and not much of a finesse.

In almost three months' stay here in New Zealand, I have my fair share of floundering speech. I would start out beautifully with my discourse and, in the middle of a sentence, start to loose my thoughts and stutter to oblivion, hoping the person I am talking to catches me and finishes off the conversation.

But I guess I am not the only one struggling in this ever growing multi cultural society. I have made quite a few trips to Auckland the past two months. It is the city with the most immigrants; Asian, Indians, and Pacific Islanders alike. Christchurch, by the way has the smallest immigrant population among the big three cities.

There I would find comfort among my fellow brown skins. There I would build my confidence, knowing I have far superior grasp of the English language than my brethren. Then it all crashes down at the first sight of a pale skin approaching to engage in a repartee.

In one recent conversation with a colleague, a gentleman who hails from London, I confessed to him my struggle with their English, explaining that I grew up learning the American English. His reaction was that of sympathy and understanding, lecturing me that what I know is 'englishy' and not the real one. And this view is shared by almost every single bloke in this very English country as I hear this term used quite often.

Ah, but the continued influx of the Asian immigrants will someday change all this. English will never be the same. Let me give you an example. When I was in Auckland last week, my taxi cab driver, a Fijian, asked me "How's yow moniy seh?" (translates: "How's your morning, sir" as I would learn from Onie later who perfectly understands Fijians), and to which my answer was a very vague "Yes!". That, my dear, may be our glimpse of the future!

An Enlightened Adventure

Ah, what a week it was... full of adventure, but not of the thrilling, scream inducing, gut wrenching New Zealand kind. Nope, we have not been to Queenstown yet, not without adrenaline junky Pio in tow. Let me explain.

Last Tuesday, Onie and I braved the stormy weather that was engulfing the whole of New Zealand and most part of the Tasman Sea. Here in Christchurch, it was literally raining the whole day, seriously. It is testament to how beautiful this country is. The storm left the nation last week but has to go back for a second look. And it seems it wants to stay... must be like us balut eating blokes.

Well, we rode the bus to The Palms (yup, the mall near where we stay) and had to go under the rain. Like normal kiwis, we pretended to be unaffected by the drizzle and walked to the bus stop without an umbrella. Take note that we pretended, because deep down inside our brown skins are an urge to run for shelter as if the rain will kill us instantly. But we resisted, proof that we are integrating beautifully to the kiwi way of life.

It was turning dark at 5pm when we got to the mall. We went to watch Angels and Demons, the Tom Hanks starred movie, courtesy of Christine who was ever generous to us. After that wonderful movie, we trudged our way to this fancy eatery called 'Coyote'.

Again, Christine paid for our most wonderful meal. As we were almost done, the fire alarm suddenly came alive. I took a glance at the kitchen area, which can be partially viewed from where I was sitting, to see if it was serious. Alas, the cooks were laughing, proof that nothing bad was happening.

A recorded voice from the PA repetitively blurted 'please evacuate immediately', and people started to do so. Again, the token brown skins were the last to react, and I was even more concerned with the unfinished food than with the danger.

We were herded just outside the restaurant and were told to wait until a fire officer has cleared the building. The alarm must have been set off inside the mall and it was a false call. After ten minutes out in the cold, we were allowed to pile in again. And true to the balut's code of conduct, we went back to finishing our meal as if nothing interrupted us. Now, who can deny the fact that we have truly integrated into the kiwi society? If we were still brown inside, we would have walked away during the fire alarm and 'forgot' about paying the bill, blaming the establishment for disrupting our meal. (caveat: I do not speak for all brownies)

That was our adventure. See, I told you it was not as exciting as a Kiwi adventure, and yet an adventure, but the kind that takes you deep into your psyche. It was an adventure into an old experience, but with a new outlook and frame of mind. It was an adventure that only smart Nathan can explain. So do not worry if you cannot get it now. Someday Nathan will explain it to you. Be patient and all you have to do is wait. Oh, and do not try asking Nathan's father, because, like you, he is probably scratching his head as well, only his hands will be lower. *wink* :)

One Fine Winter's Day

Kia Ora! Greetings from Aeotoroa! It is 'he rangi mokupua', a fine winter's day here, as the Maoris would say. The sun is up and the sky is as blue as it can get.

The end of long days had come to this land and I thought we should not put this day to waste. So as mid day arrived, we packed our lunch and headed out to the park.

As we reached the forest, we decided to eat on top of a hill with a magnificent view of the snow capped mountains to the west and the vast ocean to the east. Our feast consisted of pesto pasta, roasted chicken, and a side of baked potatoes, kumara, carrots, and parsnips. We also had chocolates for dessert.

After a filling lunch, we decided to walk down to the beach for a stroll. There were lots of people out on such a fine day as well. The temperature was beginning to be a warmer 18 degress Celsius, but we were still wrapped up in layers of clothing. We felt warm, but not warm enough to shed off some of the layers. The funny thing though is that we saw a man in teeny weeny swimming trunks, jogging near the water, muscles rippling in all directions, unmindful of the cold. Onie's eyes were glued, of course, as propriety escaped her for quite a few seconds. Then we burst into subdued laughter while we plotted how to inconspicuously take a picture of him to share here. But by the time I got my mobile phone out, he was already too far away. It would have been quite funny, with us in winter clothes and a guy running in just his underwear. Oh well, you girls have to wait until December when the summer heat hits Christchurch.

We took the long way home today. We wandered through the neighborhood to gawk at the houses... imagining... wishing...

Someday, we will own a house of our own here. But it is still uncertain at this point where in New Zealand we will end up. I have a feeling my boss might want me to relocate to Auckland, but I keep on hoping it will not come to that point.

I love our way of life here in Christchurch. I love the fact that nature is just a doorstep away from the city.

*Images taken from my mobile phone

A lookout atop a hill

This is where we ate our lunch.

Mountain bike path

A horse rider on the beach

A path to the beach

One Kiwi Week

I was reminiscing the week's events a while ago. Monday felt like yesterday. I still remember waking up to what would officially be the start of winter here in New Zealand. Then it started to rain and never seemed to stop.

Tuesday saw Onie and I spending the day in Northlands Mall and watching a movie (Wolverine) in the afternoon. I had my free day (or free week, which was more like it) since my boss was in Melbourne, Australia for a conference.

It still rained on Wednesday and Thursday while I was conveniently working at home. Temperatures never went higher than 9 degrees Celsius, and you can already see the snow capped mountains from the window.

Friday was a free day again, theoretically speaking since I really never felt hard at work, and we decided to troop to the Northlands Mall again. Later in the afternoon, we transferred to the Palms, another mall just a few minutes from where we are staying, to meet up with Simon, Christine, and Bea. We had early dinner, or early tea as what we kiwis would call it, then watched the Star Trek movie.

Saturday saw us having tea (yup, dinner) at a friend's house with a bunch of other Filipino chaps. It was one fine evening with great company and good food to boot.

Then today, we drove to New Brighton beach and had gourmet lunch at the 'Salt on the Pier' with Simon, Bea, Christine, and her mom Carol. Raquel (Christine's sister), her husband Joel, and their child Nathan caught up with us.

Yup, it was a busy week, and it felt like time really has wings. In fact, Onie and I were talking the other night and both of us felt like we have been in New Zealand more than we actually are. It would just be our 70th day in Christchurch today but it seems we have adjusted well with our lives here in our new country. By now I am used to their funny 'bisaya' accent and understands them pretty well. Plus I had very good practice with Bea (who is turning 12 this month).

I may never get the true kiwi accent but the next generation will, and it is something Onie and I are really working on. So I am signing off again to get back to work! *wink* ;)

Early Winter Banter

When we arrived here in New Zealand last March, autumn was just beginning to creep in. We would see people wearing their light jackets on the streets but all around us were verdant trees and nary a sign of what just a couple of months will do to them. Of course, Onie and I had our 'winter clothes' on already, having just transplanted from lush tropical Philippines with coconut trees a swayin' and a lone guitar man singing "wilcam tu di hutil kali purnya". 

Zip to the present. We just woke up to a very cold 1 degree celsius morning (outside temperature). I was warm inside my blanket, with a comforter on top, and Onie beside me. My ears and nose were cold though. One look at the temperature gauge beside the the bed, which read 9 deg C inside, and I knew it was going to be very difficult for me to leave my warm bed. It was already 8:30am on the clock and I still have to shower and dress up. It's a good thing I do not need to go the office today.

Just after shower, I saw Onie coming into the house from outside, telling me the grass seem pale this morning and reckoned that there is frost. I donned my sweater, grabbed my camera and made a dash for the grass. Talk about dedication to the craft. And true enough, after less than 3 minutes in the freeze, I had to hastily retreat into the warm confines of the house.

The frost slowly dissipates though as the day grows warmer.

Winter has arrived, albeit early. The once verdant trees have turned into golden colors, and most have already shed its leaves. The kiwis now wear the same kind of clothes that trendsetters Onie and I have been wearing for the past few months. A smug grin on our faces betray that feeling of 'practice makes perfect' attitude as we walk out and unto the streets this morning!

At Long Last A Birthday At Home

For the past few years, I have been celebrating my birthday outside of the Philippines. This year has not been any different. Only this year, I am celebrating it at home.

Yup, New Zealand is my home now. It is where my heart is. It is where my journey brought me after 36 years of wandering.

It took all these years to arrive, and yet I have this feeling that this is just the end of a new beginning. Another journey awaits me here and I am itching to take it head on.

But before I rattle on, let me tell you what my birthday was here a couple of days ago. I woke up beside the woman I love. I worked from home, relaxed and stress free. A little past five in the afternoon, Onie and I headed to a fancy restaurant to dine with Christine and Bea. I ordered a sumptuous steak dish that was perfectly cooked and melted in the mouth. We drove home in just under 10 minutes and still had plenty of time left to unwind for the evening.

That, in a nutshell, is what home is for me now. What a lifestyle, eh?

Oops, I got to go. Time now for a nice jog through the forest. Oh, and did I mention to you that it is only 4:00pm?

25,000 Feet Above the Long White Clouds and Saw Nothing

Sometime in late 2007, my wife Onie and I tried and applied for a permanent visa to New Zealand. A little over a year later, we found ourselves on a plane headed to Christchurch, and what is to be the most daunting journey of our lives.

This blog chronicles my adventure on this land of the long white cloud.

The flight into New Zealand took us to Brisbane in Australia, then to Sydney, before the plane headed to Christchurch. As the captain was announcing our descent to the premiere city of the Canterbury plains, Onie and I were craning our necks to get a glimpse of the land we will be calling home. Disappointingly, all we saw were a multitude of blondes staring out of the windows since we were situated in middle aisle. Now I would not have minded this in other instances, but this time around, the blondes were unlike the ones that Poms and I used to ogle on in Laguna Beach. As a matter of fact, they were old people. Blonde, maybe, but no thank you.

So, this may be the reason why New Zealand approved our immigration papers. They must have figured their country needed more young dark haired people. I don't know about the other criteria though because I slipped in quite easily.

And so it started...