Welcome to kiwi-land

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Kia Ora from New Zealand!
It's been a couple of days since I had a chance to blog - 3 in reality as I lost a day coming here - left Sat. morning at 4 ayem and landed 4 hours later and on Sunday morning. So I am owed a Saturday night that I will never have and plan to chase after it with gusto.
So let's rewind a bit to Friday and my last day on Rarotonga. That it started and ended with tears will likely not surprise you. I pedalled out to Takitumu school for the 8:30 drumbeats and it was assembly day. The teachers were handing out trophies for hygiene of all things and the little kids made speechs in Maori that I suppose were about what an honour it was to be recognized for hand washing and hair plaiting. Then the dancing started. Cook Islanders are amazing dancers and do so at every opportunity. To the sounds of recorded drums, the kids, many girls in grass-like skirts and the boys with palm-frond necklances and knee bands, danced like pros. I was constantly impressed with their skills no matter what their age. We saw some older kids the night before at the Cook Islands Food Fest - like Taste of the Danforth with a million fewer people. But yes, there was souvlaki and yes, there were dogs. By the way, the corgi mixes are called "Raro Specials" and everyone says the Queen's doggies' role in their creation is complete codswallop. Which means I will never get to write the headline: Randy Royal Rovers Run Rampant with Raro Residents. Sigh.
Of course, no sooner had the kids done their dancing than they hauled fellow volunteers Teresa, Elaine and moi up to shake our lily-white booties much to the amusement of the kids watching. One teacher told me I had the beat and showed promise. but I think she was just trying to be nice.
All too soon it was time to start saying goodbye to the kids as I was do at the Cook Islands News to work for the day. The kids crowded around me, trying to get me to pick them up, to hug them, to play our hand games and do the secret handshake. "Goodbye! Thank you for coming to our school," they kept yelling. I tried to hold it back but my vision soon blurred and tears came. "Why are you crying, Auntie?" they asked. I told them I was so happy to see them that it was making me cry.
I wobbled a bit as I rode into town to work at the paper, but made it in one piece and had a whole new challenge ahead of me. John, the editor, is an affable Kiwi with a touch of Bob Vezina in him, for all you ex-Sunsters. There are 4 reporters on staff and one layout person. So they are perpetually short staffed and running, putting out a dozen pages a day. Before I knew it, I was being interviewed for a story, writing a story, editing and laying out a picture spread/story and a feature story. It was actually fun and a real challenge - all the pages are drawn on dummies and a layout artist does the actual pagemaking. So I had to use skills I hadn't hauled out since the Campbellford Herald days. Rusty? Like, yes.
I made it back to the Kii Kii in time to head out for our final dinner as a group - Robin was headed back to D.C. and me on to N.Z., but the other 7 were staying for another week. We ate with our team leaders Debbie and Tai at the WIndjammer, the island's one very fancy place and the food was exceptional. Definitely 4 star. I was very impressed.
That night I said goodbye to my teammates as they headed off to bed. I stayed up to pack and look at the stars. Tai came for me at 2 for my flight and treated me to the ultimate Raro experience - the jet blast.
The tiny airport's runway ends at a sea wall. The road runs along it and locals love to park here and wait for the big jets to come in. We stood at the sea wall and waited for my plane to come in. The full moon lit the ocean's surface and the waves crashed on the breakwall. Suddenly, the airport lights came on and in the distance, a bright light. It came in slowly, or so it seemed, growing brighter and becoming three brilliant lights on the plane's underside. It appeared to pick up speed and looked like some kind of alien ship bearing down on us. With a whine of engines and a great whoosh! the plan blasted overhead, the jet wash furious and hot. What a rush! I've never experienced anything like it.
But the euphoria was short-lived because it was time to say goodbye to Tai, who had become a very good friend over the past 2 weeks. With more tears in my eyes, and the sound of Papa What's-his-name, who plays to welcome and say goodbye to every international flight that goes through this aiport, I boarded the jet and made for New Zealand, filled with fantastic memories of an island paradise and the people who live there. Next stop, New Zealand.
I arrived in Christchurch to find a 28C day, great people, excellent stores and cafes and an amazingly funky place to stay called the Hotel So. Everything is ultra-modern and modular - like something out of Sleeper. Tiny rooms, a shower and bath pod, mood lighting and even mood TV.
I will write more in the next blog but for now, supper calls....

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Photos

Saying goodbye
with the kids at Takitumu

At work -again
With the staff of the Cook Islands News at "my" desk

Reporter wanted?
The Cook Islands News

funky hotel
Front desk at the Hotel So, Christchurch

Cathedral Square
Cathedral Sq., Christchurch

Christchurch
Punting on the Avon

Avon River
Punting in Christchurch- a duck's-ye view

streetcar named New Zealand
Christchurch trolly

cool room
Yes, that's mood lighting under the bed in my room at the Hotel So!