Today I've been here 4 weeks. Something of a mini-milestone. Such a lot seems to have happened in that short space of time - the time I might have set aside to write an assignment any time during the past 3 years (thankfully no more of that, for the time being anyway). But whilst I've been busy since I last blogged, there has also been a sub-text of what you might describe as mild homesickness. It hits you after about 3 weeks that actually this is not a holiday, this is now 'it', and familiar patterns and routines and relationships are not going to be resumed shortly..... Not unexpected, I guess. Once the adrenalin stops coursing through the body at mach 15 there's a bit of a dip in the whole endorphin business.
Not helped by the curious disappearance of two of my stoles from St Philip's vestry, including my rather special and treasured ordination stole. Can my stoles really have been stolen? And why would anyone take them? The fact is they were there and now they are not. No-one can explain it. But it didn't help the way I was feeling, that's for sure. My other beautiful green stole, made for me with such love by Rose, is now locked away in the safe! I'm so thankful that one was in its custom-made pouch and less obvious.
Lucky for me, then, that there have been distractions. Roy and I have started Te Reo lessons with Haare Williams. That means that we're learning Maori language along with some traditions and culture. I can now tell you my name - Ko Hera taku ingoa; where I now live - Kei Kohimarama taku kainga inaianei; where the home of my heart is - Kei Tollesbury taku kainga tuturu; and what my 'tribe' is - Ko nati ingarihi taku iwi! How about that? You can learn alongside me!! Haare went at a breakneck speed leaving us rather reeling, and I found myself waking up in the middle of the night murmuring words and phrases as they surfaced and submerged during my sleep. The course is to last 8 weeks. I wonder if we will?
We also had our first experience of the APO - the Auckland Philharmonic Orchestra - who hit on the clever idea of inviting guests and subscribers to a taster evening, where the programme for 2012 was outlined, thematically, and the orchestra got to strut their stuff in several different genres. They had FIVE percussionists on duty. Great stuff. Now we just need to identify some evenings to go to the real thing.
On the church front Nyasha and I teamed up to run the show last Sunday as Michael enjoyed the rugby. That was so much fun we're doing it again this Sunday! I get to be liturgist, Deacon and do the prayers. I've done some more home visiting (people are really hospitable with the home baking - not so good for the waist line), assisted at two communions at rest homes (one of which was a typical setting; the other, however, was like walking into a Hilton hotel! very strange) and attended funeral planning with a husband and wife in their 80s who are both still alive and well.....
And then there's been the rugby. It's become very obvious that if the All Blacks don't win the World Cup the nation will go into a major depression! They are passionate about rugby. Many say it is their religion. They certainly seem keener on worshipping the All Blacks than God. It's a bit like the football in the UK - except here there are the All Blacks and the Warriors, and they're world-class and don't keep falling over and pretending to be hurt....
Friday, 30 September 2011
Wednesday, 21 September 2011
Lemons and Kingfishers...
Sometimes it feels as if I've lived here for ages. Even the new things somehow feel familiar.
Food seems to have formed a leitmotif throughout this week, mainly thanks to the number of lunches I've shared with others. Not special food, just special people. It begins with Nyasha, my fellow curate - seems a good way to get to know each other, so after a joint session of Mainly Music we grab an omelette at La Vista in 'the village' (as everyone calls St Heliers). Next up, lunch with the lovely Julie at Julie's bedsit at the top of a hideously steep road, which I fail miserably to climb even with the benefit of Betsy, my black beast of a bike. It involves lots of laughter and American chocolate chip cookies, which Julie is making for the US carnival the village is holding at the weekend.
A trip out to Waiau Pa (about an hour south of Auckland), country home of the McKinnons - Roy's caretaker predecessor at AWWM - follows our very wet celebration of the annual Battle of Britain on Sunday at the Cenotaph, sited outside the Museum. 71 years since the B of B, 70 years since the NZ Air Training Corps was formed. I'm reminded of both Dartmouth and Royal Hospital School. Lots of young cadets get steadily, stoically soaked: Roy, recipient of the deluge from two umbrellas, gets drenched. A trip to the dry cleaners becomes essential. Lunch includes lamb shanks, good conversation and a beautiful view of Manukau Harbour, as well as (blessedly for me) both fields and cattle, at last.
A toasted panini with my new Bishop and Roy next, a snatched 45 minutes at the museum cafe in the midst of busy diaries. No ceremony, just relaxed chat in mufti. Nice. And today a scratch lunch with Julie after Women's Fellowship (talk on Sustainable Living), at my place this time en route to the local cinema at Mission Bay. It's called the Berkeley, is up above some shops and is the sweetest (and cleanest) cinema imaginable. We watch 'The Help'. Excellent, pretty faithful to the book, and very moving.....
Should I mention dinner? Just the one, with the McDowells (what's with all the Mc business?), Kohi residents who were hospitable to Roy in my earlier absence, at Mama Rosa's. Not only really good food but also BYO at only $3 corkage a bottle (about £1.50). And we can walk to it! What's more Kohi does the best fish and chips I've had anywhere. Should allow me a night off cooking once in a while.
On Thursday I finally get to see where we're going to be living from late October. Roy holds his breath as I wander round sizing up and gauging space and light. He's done well. And yes, we can see Rangitoto (our nearest island neighbour) and the sea from the balcony. Phew! He can breathe again - and so can I. We will make this 'home' for a while. Good location, too, on the flat (a must for me), next to the tennis club, 400 yds from the beach, and near St Philip's. Ready to move now....
We take delivery of Charlie on Saturday. Definitely champagne. Roy visits the boat show and orders an outboard. Car - check. Engine - check. Berth - check. Now all we need is the boat!
Church on Sunday and I'm both liturgist and Deacon at the 8 am. That means 7 am at the church to set up and prepare, memorise the choreography and learn my way round the New Zealand liturgy. No mishaps, thankfully. Faces becoming familiar. I've visited Colin and Eleanor midweek (or Ellen and Colinor, as Michael styled them accidentally en route). Colin allows me to cut 2 lemons from his small lemon tree outside in the garden, then presents me with a camellia.... The McDowells bring us lemon curd and lemon liqueur, from lemons grown at their bach (pronounced 'batch', meaning beach 'hut' - anything from a small wooden dwelling to a 7-bedroom glass and marble mansion!) up country. Palm trees. Lemons. Something distinctly tropical.
Two visits to the Auckland city hospital to visit parishioners, and I begin to suss floor plans and etiquette. There's the new wing, wide corridors and low windowsills; then there's the older wing, neither, catering for recuperating 'older' people. Plus 'Starship', children's wing, as yet unvisited (by me). Zelma likes BCP (Book of Common Prayer), not that 'crazy modern' NZPB (New Zealand Prayer Book), so Michael obliges and I find myself making familiar ingrained responses whilst he concentrates on unfamiliar wording.
I thank God, daily, for his providence - for new friends and warm welcomes, beautiful scenery and constantly changing weather......and for modern communications, for skype, facebook and email that help us keep in touch with family and friends at home.
An old tussle with dehydration rears its ugly head. Strange feelings within the body. The acquisition of a (retro china) water jug resolves the issue. I gulp constantly until the body feels re-balanced. Shades of Crete 1979, without the temperature.....
And so to the kingfishers. I've seen sparrows, starlings and blackbirds here. But how often do you see a kingfisher in the UK? In my childhood I saw them occasionally, treasured sightings, flashes of blue in secluded watery places inland. But kingfishers by the sea? Here in Kohi/St Heliers I've now seen 4 - maybe the same one 4 times... But definitely kingfishers. They are known here as Sacred Kingfishers, protected, common (apparently), populating coastal waters where they eat small crabs and fish. What a delight to watch them sitting guard on the lava flows that form the shoreline at low water.
The rain finally abates, and so today does the wind. I visit the optician, only for him to confirm that it is as I suspect - I am getting older. The glasses I have are no longer strong enough for reading and I can no longer watch TV (not that I have since we've been here, other than the rugby) and still see people's faces. I have the option of using 3 different strengths to cover all bases, or pay $900 for a pair of 'progressives'. Three strengths it is, then.
Now to find a hairdresser...........
Food seems to have formed a leitmotif throughout this week, mainly thanks to the number of lunches I've shared with others. Not special food, just special people. It begins with Nyasha, my fellow curate - seems a good way to get to know each other, so after a joint session of Mainly Music we grab an omelette at La Vista in 'the village' (as everyone calls St Heliers). Next up, lunch with the lovely Julie at Julie's bedsit at the top of a hideously steep road, which I fail miserably to climb even with the benefit of Betsy, my black beast of a bike. It involves lots of laughter and American chocolate chip cookies, which Julie is making for the US carnival the village is holding at the weekend.
A trip out to Waiau Pa (about an hour south of Auckland), country home of the McKinnons - Roy's caretaker predecessor at AWWM - follows our very wet celebration of the annual Battle of Britain on Sunday at the Cenotaph, sited outside the Museum. 71 years since the B of B, 70 years since the NZ Air Training Corps was formed. I'm reminded of both Dartmouth and Royal Hospital School. Lots of young cadets get steadily, stoically soaked: Roy, recipient of the deluge from two umbrellas, gets drenched. A trip to the dry cleaners becomes essential. Lunch includes lamb shanks, good conversation and a beautiful view of Manukau Harbour, as well as (blessedly for me) both fields and cattle, at last.
A toasted panini with my new Bishop and Roy next, a snatched 45 minutes at the museum cafe in the midst of busy diaries. No ceremony, just relaxed chat in mufti. Nice. And today a scratch lunch with Julie after Women's Fellowship (talk on Sustainable Living), at my place this time en route to the local cinema at Mission Bay. It's called the Berkeley, is up above some shops and is the sweetest (and cleanest) cinema imaginable. We watch 'The Help'. Excellent, pretty faithful to the book, and very moving.....
Should I mention dinner? Just the one, with the McDowells (what's with all the Mc business?), Kohi residents who were hospitable to Roy in my earlier absence, at Mama Rosa's. Not only really good food but also BYO at only $3 corkage a bottle (about £1.50). And we can walk to it! What's more Kohi does the best fish and chips I've had anywhere. Should allow me a night off cooking once in a while.
On Thursday I finally get to see where we're going to be living from late October. Roy holds his breath as I wander round sizing up and gauging space and light. He's done well. And yes, we can see Rangitoto (our nearest island neighbour) and the sea from the balcony. Phew! He can breathe again - and so can I. We will make this 'home' for a while. Good location, too, on the flat (a must for me), next to the tennis club, 400 yds from the beach, and near St Philip's. Ready to move now....
We take delivery of Charlie on Saturday. Definitely champagne. Roy visits the boat show and orders an outboard. Car - check. Engine - check. Berth - check. Now all we need is the boat!
Church on Sunday and I'm both liturgist and Deacon at the 8 am. That means 7 am at the church to set up and prepare, memorise the choreography and learn my way round the New Zealand liturgy. No mishaps, thankfully. Faces becoming familiar. I've visited Colin and Eleanor midweek (or Ellen and Colinor, as Michael styled them accidentally en route). Colin allows me to cut 2 lemons from his small lemon tree outside in the garden, then presents me with a camellia.... The McDowells bring us lemon curd and lemon liqueur, from lemons grown at their bach (pronounced 'batch', meaning beach 'hut' - anything from a small wooden dwelling to a 7-bedroom glass and marble mansion!) up country. Palm trees. Lemons. Something distinctly tropical.
Two visits to the Auckland city hospital to visit parishioners, and I begin to suss floor plans and etiquette. There's the new wing, wide corridors and low windowsills; then there's the older wing, neither, catering for recuperating 'older' people. Plus 'Starship', children's wing, as yet unvisited (by me). Zelma likes BCP (Book of Common Prayer), not that 'crazy modern' NZPB (New Zealand Prayer Book), so Michael obliges and I find myself making familiar ingrained responses whilst he concentrates on unfamiliar wording.
I thank God, daily, for his providence - for new friends and warm welcomes, beautiful scenery and constantly changing weather......and for modern communications, for skype, facebook and email that help us keep in touch with family and friends at home.
An old tussle with dehydration rears its ugly head. Strange feelings within the body. The acquisition of a (retro china) water jug resolves the issue. I gulp constantly until the body feels re-balanced. Shades of Crete 1979, without the temperature.....
And so to the kingfishers. I've seen sparrows, starlings and blackbirds here. But how often do you see a kingfisher in the UK? In my childhood I saw them occasionally, treasured sightings, flashes of blue in secluded watery places inland. But kingfishers by the sea? Here in Kohi/St Heliers I've now seen 4 - maybe the same one 4 times... But definitely kingfishers. They are known here as Sacred Kingfishers, protected, common (apparently), populating coastal waters where they eat small crabs and fish. What a delight to watch them sitting guard on the lava flows that form the shoreline at low water.
The rain finally abates, and so today does the wind. I visit the optician, only for him to confirm that it is as I suspect - I am getting older. The glasses I have are no longer strong enough for reading and I can no longer watch TV (not that I have since we've been here, other than the rugby) and still see people's faces. I have the option of using 3 different strengths to cover all bases, or pay $900 for a pair of 'progressives'. Three strengths it is, then.
Now to find a hairdresser...........
Lemons and Kingfishers...
Sometimes it feels as if I've lived here for ages. Even the new things somehow feel familiar.
Food seems to have formed a leitmotif throughout this week, mainly thanks to the number of lunches I've shared with others. Not special food, just special people. It begins with Nyasha, my fellow curate - seems a good way to get to know each other, so after a joint session of Mainly Music we grab an omelette at La Vista in 'the village' (as everyone calls St Heliers). Next up, lunch with the lovely Julie at Julie's bedsit at the top of a hideously steep road, which I fail miserably to climb even with the benefit of Betsy, my black beast of a bike. It involves lots of laughter and American chocolate chip cookies, which Julie is making for the US carnival the village is holding at the weekend.
A trip out to Waiau Pa (about an hour south of Auckland), country home of the McKinnons - Roy's caretaker predecessor at AWWM - follows our very wet celebration of the annual Battle of Britain on Sunday at the Cenotaph, sited outside the Museum. 71 years since the B of B, 70 years since the NZ Air Training Corps was formed. I'm reminded of both Dartmouth and Royal Hospital School. Lots of young cadets get steadily, stoically soaked: Roy, recipient of the deluge from two umbrellas, gets drenched. A trip to the dry cleaners becomes essential. Lunch includes lamb shanks, good conversation and a beautiful view of Manukau Harbour, as well as (blessedly for me) both fields and cattle, at last.
A toasted panini with my new Bishop and Roy next, a snatched 45 minutes at the museum cafe in the midst of busy diaries. No ceremony, just relaxed chat in mufti. Nice. And today a scratch lunch with Julie after Women's Fellowship (talk on Sustainable Living), at my place this time en route to the local cinema at Mission Bay. It's called the Berkeley, is up above some shops and is the sweetest (and cleanest) cinema imaginable. We watch 'The Help'. Excellent, pretty faithful to the book, and very moving.....
Should I mention dinner? Just the one, with the McDowells (what's with all the Mc business?), Kohi residents who were hospitable to Roy in my earlier absence, at Mama Rosa's. Not only really good food but also BYO at only $3 corkage a bottle (about £1.50). And we can walk to it! What's more Kohi does the best fish and chips I've had anywhere. Should allow me a night off cooking once in a while.
On Thursday I finally get to see where we're going to be living from late October. Roy holds his breath as I wander round sizing up and gauging space and light. He's done well. And yes, we can see Rangitoto (our nearest island neighbour) and the sea from the balcony. Phew! He can breathe again - and so can I. We will make this 'home' for a while. Good location, too, on the flat (a must for me), next to the tennis club, 400 yds from the beach, and near St Philip's. Ready to move now....
We take delivery of Charlie on Saturday. Definitely champagne. Roy visits the boat show and orders an outboard. Car - check. Engine - check. Berth - check. Now all we need is the boat!
Church on Sunday and I'm both liturgist and Deacon at the 8 am. That means 7 am at the church to set up and prepare, memorise the choreography and learn my way round the New Zealand liturgy. No mishaps, thankfully. Faces becoming familiar. I've visited Colin and Eleanor midweek (or Ellen and Colinor, as Michael styled them accidentally en route). Colin allows me to cut 2 lemons from his small lemon tree outside in the garden, then presents me with a camellia.... The McDowells bring us lemon curd and lemon liqueur, from lemons grown at their bach (pronounced 'batch', meaning beach 'hut' - anything from a small wooden dwelling to a 7-bedroom glass and marble mansion!) up country. Palm trees. Lemons. Something distinctly tropical.
Two visits to the Auckland city hospital to visit parishioners, and I begin to suss floor plans and etiquette. There's the new wing, wide corridors and low windowsills; then there's the older wing, neither, catering for recuperating 'older' people. Plus 'Starship', children's wing, as yet unvisited (by me). Zelma likes BCP (Book of Common Prayer), not that 'crazy modern' NZPB (New Zealand Prayer Book), so Michael obliges and I find myself making familiar ingrained responses whilst he concentrates on unfamiliar wording.
I thank God, daily, for his providence - for new friends and warm welcomes, beautiful scenery and constantly changing weather......and for modern communications, for skype, facebook and email that help us keep in touch with family and friends at home.
An old tussle with dehydration rears its ugly head. Strange feelings within the body. The acquisition of a (retro china) water jug resolves the issue. I gulp constantly until the body feels re-balanced. Shades of Crete 1979, without the temperature.....
And so to the kingfishers. I've seen sparrows, starlings and blackbirds here. But how often do you see a kingfisher in the UK? In my childhood I saw them occasionally, treasured sightings, flashes of blue in secluded watery places inland. But kingfishers by the sea? Here in Kohi/St Heliers I've now seen 4 - maybe the same one 4 times... But definitely kingfishers. They are known here as Sacred Kingfishers, protected, common (apparently), populating coastal waters where they eat small crabs and fish. What a delight to watch them sitting guard on the lava flows that form the shoreline at low water.
The rain finally abates, and so today does the wind. I visit the optician, only for him to confirm that it is as I suspect - I am getting older. The glasses I have are no longer strong enough for reading and I can no longer watch TV (not that I have since we've been here, other than the rugby) and still see people's faces. I have the option of using 3 different strengths to cover all bases, or pay $900 for a pair of 'progressives'. Three strengths it is, then.
Now to find a hairdresser...........
Food seems to have formed a leitmotif throughout this week, mainly thanks to the number of lunches I've shared with others. Not special food, just special people. It begins with Nyasha, my fellow curate - seems a good way to get to know each other, so after a joint session of Mainly Music we grab an omelette at La Vista in 'the village' (as everyone calls St Heliers). Next up, lunch with the lovely Julie at Julie's bedsit at the top of a hideously steep road, which I fail miserably to climb even with the benefit of Betsy, my black beast of a bike. It involves lots of laughter and American chocolate chip cookies, which Julie is making for the US carnival the village is holding at the weekend.
A trip out to Waiau Pa (about an hour south of Auckland), country home of the McKinnons - Roy's caretaker predecessor at AWWM - follows our very wet celebration of the annual Battle of Britain on Sunday at the Cenotaph, sited outside the Museum. 71 years since the B of B, 70 years since the NZ Air Training Corps was formed. I'm reminded of both Dartmouth and Royal Hospital School. Lots of young cadets get steadily, stoically soaked: Roy, recipient of the deluge from two umbrellas, gets drenched. A trip to the dry cleaners becomes essential. Lunch includes lamb shanks, good conversation and a beautiful view of Manukau Harbour, as well as (blessedly for me) both fields and cattle, at last.
A toasted panini with my new Bishop and Roy next, a snatched 45 minutes at the museum cafe in the midst of busy diaries. No ceremony, just relaxed chat in mufti. Nice. And today a scratch lunch with Julie after Women's Fellowship (talk on Sustainable Living), at my place this time en route to the local cinema at Mission Bay. It's called the Berkeley, is up above some shops and is the sweetest (and cleanest) cinema imaginable. We watch 'The Help'. Excellent, pretty faithful to the book, and very moving.....
Should I mention dinner? Just the one, with the McDowells (what's with all the Mc business?), Kohi residents who were hospitable to Roy in my earlier absence, at Mama Rosa's. Not only really good food but also BYO at only $3 corkage a bottle (about £1.50). And we can walk to it! What's more Kohi does the best fish and chips I've had anywhere. Should allow me a night off cooking once in a while.
On Thursday I finally get to see where we're going to be living from late October. Roy holds his breath as I wander round sizing up and gauging space and light. He's done well. And yes, we can see Rangitoto (our nearest island neighbour) and the sea from the balcony. Phew! He can breathe again - and so can I. We will make this 'home' for a while. Good location, too, on the flat (a must for me), next to the tennis club, 400 yds from the beach, and near St Philip's. Ready to move now....
We take delivery of Charlie on Saturday. Definitely champagne. Roy visits the boat show and orders an outboard. Car - check. Engine - check. Berth - check. Now all we need is the boat!
Church on Sunday and I'm both liturgist and Deacon at the 8 am. That means 7 am at the church to set up and prepare, memorise the choreography and learn my way round the New Zealand liturgy. No mishaps, thankfully. Faces becoming familiar. I've visited Colin and Eleanor midweek (or Ellen and Colinor, as Michael styled them accidentally en route). Colin allows me to cut 2 lemons from his small lemon tree outside in the garden, then presents me with a camellia.... The McDowells bring us lemon curd and lemon liqueur, from lemons grown at their bach (pronounced 'batch', meaning beach 'hut' - anything from a small wooden dwelling to a 7-bedroom glass and marble mansion!) up country. Palm trees. Lemons. Something distinctly tropical.
Two visits to the Auckland city hospital to visit parishioners, and I begin to suss floor plans and etiquette. There's the new wing, wide corridors and low windowsills; then there's the older wing, neither, catering for recuperating 'older' people. Plus 'Starship', children's wing, as yet unvisited (by me). Zelma likes BCP (Book of Common Prayer), not that 'crazy modern' NZPB (New Zealand Prayer Book), so Michael obliges and I find myself making familiar ingrained responses whilst he concentrates on unfamiliar wording.
I thank God, daily, for his providence - for new friends and warm welcomes, beautiful scenery and constantly changing weather......and for modern communications, for skype, facebook and email that help us keep in touch with family and friends at home.
An old tussle with dehydration rears its ugly head. Strange feelings within the body. The acquisition of a (retro china) water jug resolves the issue. I gulp constantly until the body feels re-balanced. Shades of Crete 1979, without the temperature.....
And so to the kingfishers. I've seen sparrows, starlings and blackbirds here. But how often do you see a kingfisher in the UK? In my childhood I saw them occasionally, treasured sightings, flashes of blue in secluded watery places inland. But kingfishers by the sea? Here in Kohi/St Heliers I've now seen 4 - maybe the same one 4 times... But definitely kingfishers. They are known here as Sacred Kingfishers, protected, common (apparently), populating coastal waters where they eat small crabs and fish. What a delight to watch them sitting guard on the lava flows that form the shoreline at low water.
The rain finally abates, and so today does the wind. I visit the optician, only for him to confirm that it is as I suspect - I am getting older. The glasses I have are no longer strong enough for reading and I can no longer watch TV (not that I have since we've been here, other than the rugby) and still see people's faces. I have the option of using 3 different strengths to cover all bases, or pay $900 for a pair of 'progressives'. Three strengths it is, then.
Now to find a hairdresser...........
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
From hongi to 'happy and you know it'.....
It was optimistic of me to think I was over the jetlag after only 4 days. Jetlag is like childbirth - you keep thinking you've recovered, then one day you just realise you have!
It's been a week of great contrasts. Last Wednesday evening was my first event at the museum - the opening of the new (small) Maori gallery celebrating the Maori contribution to international rugby over the last century, which is considerable. Just in time for the World Cup. Famous names and faces (to those in the know, not me) from Maori rugby history were lined up in the front row of guest seats opposite those of us on the museum side. There were speeches - in Maori, no translation. There were songs - in Maori, no songsheets. And then there was the 'hongi'....the traditional Maori greeting where two people incline their heads and touch foreheads and noses simultaneously. Man to man that's all that happens: man to woman there's usually a kiss to the right cheek. Sometimes there's no hongi, just the kiss. It's a wait-and-see moment. I hongi-ed Buck Shelford amongst others - he was Captain of the last All Blacks side that won the World Cup back in 1987 (though I was later told that he didn't actually Captain the side during the final game...). My claim to fame for the night, anyway, and I'm sticking to it. A jolly occasion and my first real introduction to the biculturalism of New Zealand. Roy made a very good speech, too, with a Maori top-and-tailing.
The following morning found me up at St Philip's, on the floor, patting my head and shoulders (and various other parts of my body) and showing how happy I was, in two consecutive sessions of Mainly Music - getting down with the 0-4 yrs of St Heliers parish, eyeballing both children and parents. They come to Mainly Music every week, so many of them that there have to be two identical sessions......but mostly they don't come to church on Sunday - yet!
Then a whistlestop introduction to 'how to Deacon during Sunday services', lots of choreography of movement and action. Somehow it stayed in my brain enough for me to recall it all 3 days later.
Friday - who can forget the World Cup opening ceremony? Well, we didn't see any of that bit, not live anyway. But we did see the fireworks, from a 35' yacht anchored in the harbour. Up close and personal. Just the 7 of us, some bubbly, nibbles and chicken salad - and dozens of other maritime spectators, warmly wrapped up to experience the pyrotechnics from close quarters. I'd made Anzac biscuits that morning - main ingredients coconut and rolled oats; apparently quite authentic. Worth the culinary compromises, then.
Saturday, and a 40-minute trip up to Albany, North Shore, to test drive a Toyota Rav4. Diesel models hard to come by but they tow 2000kg, 500kg more than the petrol versions - which is important when it comes to hills and boat/trailers. Metallic beige, it said on the sheet. Beige? I said. Surely not. More of a champagne colour, he quickly amended. I can live with that. We pick up 'Charlie' this Saturday.....
I think I'll gloss over the rugby. I fell asleep...... England won.
Sunday, and my licensing to St Philip's. Blue skies and crisp visibility replaced by scudding grey, gales and heavy rain. Just in time for me to transfer my robes to the church. A text from Jessa (Roy's EA) reads: 'it rains on auspicious occasions'. Phew! Amongst the 80-strong congregation are Haare Williams (Maori broadcaster and elder) and the Revd Iritana Hankins (President of the Mothers' Union) who, thanks to Roy, have come to offer me a Maori welcome to the church. Not sure St Philip's has experienced anything quite like it. Very special. More hongi followed by the more traditional Anglican peace. I am now officially Deacon Assistant at St Philip's.
By Sunday afternoon it's as if I've been run over by a truck. That night I finally sleep for 12 hours. Monday dawns with more squally showers and strong winds. Time for some theological reflection (though the journal still hasn't been written - perhaps this afternoon?). A blustery walk midday yields much-needed oxygen, and a chance encounter in Eden Market Foodstore in St Heliers yields a new friend, a Californian from Sacramento named Julie, who's also just moved here and whose face and eyes shine with life and joy. We're having lunch together this Friday.
The new bike arrives Monday evening. Power-assisted, black, shiny, workmanlike. It has its first outing on Tuesday morning in the wind and the rain when I battle my way to St Philip's for my first full day as curate. Did I mention the hill? It's steep. Very, very steep. Something to do with volcanoes. Need all the bike's power and arrive head and heart pounding for morning prayer and staff meeting. Later I meet the new (female) Archdeacon and the newish (female) head of what is still called 'Potty Training' here. [Fellow Deacons will recognise the term. POT - Post Ordination Training. In Chelmsford diocese it's now known as CME - Continuing Ministerial Education, and IME 4-7. You'll have to ask someone else what the last bit means.] She's also called Sarah. A lot of us about, apparently. All very positive. I'm now signed up for the next training session in October. It seems we meet 3 times a year, for 24 hours. No essays, thankfully. Enough of that, already.
On the way home we visit 94 year old Eileen, who's currently stuck at home with her foot in a boot. It means she can't drive herself anywhere, including to church, something she chafes against. Doesn't stop her making tea and bringing it to us on a tray, though. Originally she came from Ilford. Maybe that explains it.
Last night (still Tuesday) our first concert at the museum. The fabulous nztrio, piano, cello and violin, playing a mixture of old and new. Such energy and pizzazz (is that how you spell it?). Julie joins us and we give her a lift back to St Heliers.
Today it's Wednesday. I've just had coffee in the fashionable Cafe Kohi (just round the corner from the flat) with Val Gilbert, sister of the lovely Gill Crayston who forms part of a great tennis four back in UK. Great fun, with promise of more to come. Drat - forgot to ask her about tennis...........
And still the wind blows.
It's been a week of great contrasts. Last Wednesday evening was my first event at the museum - the opening of the new (small) Maori gallery celebrating the Maori contribution to international rugby over the last century, which is considerable. Just in time for the World Cup. Famous names and faces (to those in the know, not me) from Maori rugby history were lined up in the front row of guest seats opposite those of us on the museum side. There were speeches - in Maori, no translation. There were songs - in Maori, no songsheets. And then there was the 'hongi'....the traditional Maori greeting where two people incline their heads and touch foreheads and noses simultaneously. Man to man that's all that happens: man to woman there's usually a kiss to the right cheek. Sometimes there's no hongi, just the kiss. It's a wait-and-see moment. I hongi-ed Buck Shelford amongst others - he was Captain of the last All Blacks side that won the World Cup back in 1987 (though I was later told that he didn't actually Captain the side during the final game...). My claim to fame for the night, anyway, and I'm sticking to it. A jolly occasion and my first real introduction to the biculturalism of New Zealand. Roy made a very good speech, too, with a Maori top-and-tailing.
The following morning found me up at St Philip's, on the floor, patting my head and shoulders (and various other parts of my body) and showing how happy I was, in two consecutive sessions of Mainly Music - getting down with the 0-4 yrs of St Heliers parish, eyeballing both children and parents. They come to Mainly Music every week, so many of them that there have to be two identical sessions......but mostly they don't come to church on Sunday - yet!
Then a whistlestop introduction to 'how to Deacon during Sunday services', lots of choreography of movement and action. Somehow it stayed in my brain enough for me to recall it all 3 days later.
Friday - who can forget the World Cup opening ceremony? Well, we didn't see any of that bit, not live anyway. But we did see the fireworks, from a 35' yacht anchored in the harbour. Up close and personal. Just the 7 of us, some bubbly, nibbles and chicken salad - and dozens of other maritime spectators, warmly wrapped up to experience the pyrotechnics from close quarters. I'd made Anzac biscuits that morning - main ingredients coconut and rolled oats; apparently quite authentic. Worth the culinary compromises, then.
Saturday, and a 40-minute trip up to Albany, North Shore, to test drive a Toyota Rav4. Diesel models hard to come by but they tow 2000kg, 500kg more than the petrol versions - which is important when it comes to hills and boat/trailers. Metallic beige, it said on the sheet. Beige? I said. Surely not. More of a champagne colour, he quickly amended. I can live with that. We pick up 'Charlie' this Saturday.....
I think I'll gloss over the rugby. I fell asleep...... England won.
Sunday, and my licensing to St Philip's. Blue skies and crisp visibility replaced by scudding grey, gales and heavy rain. Just in time for me to transfer my robes to the church. A text from Jessa (Roy's EA) reads: 'it rains on auspicious occasions'. Phew! Amongst the 80-strong congregation are Haare Williams (Maori broadcaster and elder) and the Revd Iritana Hankins (President of the Mothers' Union) who, thanks to Roy, have come to offer me a Maori welcome to the church. Not sure St Philip's has experienced anything quite like it. Very special. More hongi followed by the more traditional Anglican peace. I am now officially Deacon Assistant at St Philip's.
By Sunday afternoon it's as if I've been run over by a truck. That night I finally sleep for 12 hours. Monday dawns with more squally showers and strong winds. Time for some theological reflection (though the journal still hasn't been written - perhaps this afternoon?). A blustery walk midday yields much-needed oxygen, and a chance encounter in Eden Market Foodstore in St Heliers yields a new friend, a Californian from Sacramento named Julie, who's also just moved here and whose face and eyes shine with life and joy. We're having lunch together this Friday.
The new bike arrives Monday evening. Power-assisted, black, shiny, workmanlike. It has its first outing on Tuesday morning in the wind and the rain when I battle my way to St Philip's for my first full day as curate. Did I mention the hill? It's steep. Very, very steep. Something to do with volcanoes. Need all the bike's power and arrive head and heart pounding for morning prayer and staff meeting. Later I meet the new (female) Archdeacon and the newish (female) head of what is still called 'Potty Training' here. [Fellow Deacons will recognise the term. POT - Post Ordination Training. In Chelmsford diocese it's now known as CME - Continuing Ministerial Education, and IME 4-7. You'll have to ask someone else what the last bit means.] She's also called Sarah. A lot of us about, apparently. All very positive. I'm now signed up for the next training session in October. It seems we meet 3 times a year, for 24 hours. No essays, thankfully. Enough of that, already.
On the way home we visit 94 year old Eileen, who's currently stuck at home with her foot in a boot. It means she can't drive herself anywhere, including to church, something she chafes against. Doesn't stop her making tea and bringing it to us on a tray, though. Originally she came from Ilford. Maybe that explains it.
Last night (still Tuesday) our first concert at the museum. The fabulous nztrio, piano, cello and violin, playing a mixture of old and new. Such energy and pizzazz (is that how you spell it?). Julie joins us and we give her a lift back to St Heliers.
Today it's Wednesday. I've just had coffee in the fashionable Cafe Kohi (just round the corner from the flat) with Val Gilbert, sister of the lovely Gill Crayston who forms part of a great tennis four back in UK. Great fun, with promise of more to come. Drat - forgot to ask her about tennis...........
And still the wind blows.
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
The benefits of a good sleep
Isn't it amazing how different you feel after a good night's sleep? Travelling 12000 miles to the other side of the world and ending up 11 hours ahead of where you started does strange things to your body clock. It means that you spend the first few days in a trance-like state where you seem quite normal on the outside but your insides are all woolly.
Having landed in Auckland, New Zealand, early last Saturday (and by early I mean 0530 local time) I am now technically at the start of Day 5. Auckland seems to have been saving up its finest weather to greet me - brilliant blue skies, the very best lighting background for photos of sea, beaches, general environs. Temps ranging from 7-17, not bad for early Spring.
Our starter flat is homely and welcoming with a beautiful palm tree right outside the sliding front door leading to the terrace. Last night I cooked my first New Zealand meal - chicken paprika from the Edmonds Cookery Book I was advised to buy. 'Part of New Zealand's Heritage Since 1879', it says proudly on the cover. Anzac biscuits are a must, I'm told. Perhaps I'll bake some to take to our hosts for Friday's boat trip to view the opening fireworks at the Rugby World Cup ceremony.....
The first four days have passed swiftly, filled with new experiences and faces: I've explored New World (our local supermarket) and winced at the prices. Didn't think it possible for anywhere to be more expensive than Britain.... Walked and jogged along Tamaki Drive, which connects Auckland City Centre (currently named CBD, but apparently there are plans to rename it ... The City Centre!) to the eastern suburb peninsula where we are currently living, in Kohimamara, but in 6 weeks we'll be in St Heliers, where I'm to be the new assistant Deacon. Worshipped at the cathedral, and marvelled at 12 choir voices filling a huge space with glorious singing. Met up with stepbrother John and his wife Norma, and enjoyed lunch at the Black Sugar grill in Kohi (who have adopted Japan for the World Cup, at the request of Auckland City Council: St Heliers has been asked to adopt the USA and have taken the task to heart, with decorative bunting flying outside all the shops). Spent a day at Auckland Musuem, meeting the people now working with Roy, and absorbing the atmosphere in this most imposing of buildings. And had my first official meeting with my new training incumbent, Michael, to discuss my new role in St Philip's church. He's young, can-do, brisk and friendly - and determined to get me doing things solo at the earliest opportunity, apparently. Suits me!
And all this in a state of gentle jetlag.
But today's the day I feel human again, I think. Must get to grips with rugby order of play so I don't seem a complete dunderhead in forthcoming conversations.....
More anon.
Having landed in Auckland, New Zealand, early last Saturday (and by early I mean 0530 local time) I am now technically at the start of Day 5. Auckland seems to have been saving up its finest weather to greet me - brilliant blue skies, the very best lighting background for photos of sea, beaches, general environs. Temps ranging from 7-17, not bad for early Spring.
Our starter flat is homely and welcoming with a beautiful palm tree right outside the sliding front door leading to the terrace. Last night I cooked my first New Zealand meal - chicken paprika from the Edmonds Cookery Book I was advised to buy. 'Part of New Zealand's Heritage Since 1879', it says proudly on the cover. Anzac biscuits are a must, I'm told. Perhaps I'll bake some to take to our hosts for Friday's boat trip to view the opening fireworks at the Rugby World Cup ceremony.....
The first four days have passed swiftly, filled with new experiences and faces: I've explored New World (our local supermarket) and winced at the prices. Didn't think it possible for anywhere to be more expensive than Britain.... Walked and jogged along Tamaki Drive, which connects Auckland City Centre (currently named CBD, but apparently there are plans to rename it ... The City Centre!) to the eastern suburb peninsula where we are currently living, in Kohimamara, but in 6 weeks we'll be in St Heliers, where I'm to be the new assistant Deacon. Worshipped at the cathedral, and marvelled at 12 choir voices filling a huge space with glorious singing. Met up with stepbrother John and his wife Norma, and enjoyed lunch at the Black Sugar grill in Kohi (who have adopted Japan for the World Cup, at the request of Auckland City Council: St Heliers has been asked to adopt the USA and have taken the task to heart, with decorative bunting flying outside all the shops). Spent a day at Auckland Musuem, meeting the people now working with Roy, and absorbing the atmosphere in this most imposing of buildings. And had my first official meeting with my new training incumbent, Michael, to discuss my new role in St Philip's church. He's young, can-do, brisk and friendly - and determined to get me doing things solo at the earliest opportunity, apparently. Suits me!
And all this in a state of gentle jetlag.
But today's the day I feel human again, I think. Must get to grips with rugby order of play so I don't seem a complete dunderhead in forthcoming conversations.....
More anon.
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