further notes from the southern hemisphere

Dear friends,

I am in transit again, though in New Zealand not Kenya. I made a whirling jet-lagged stop State side for a week and then off on another fifteen hour flight to Auckland. All this seemed excuse enough to keep writing my long emails. I should note that I've been working on this letter off and on during my time in New Zealand.

Returning to the States was strange, and yet that word doesn't quite capture the feeling. Life wasn't as foreign as I'd anticipated but moved too quickly. I was relieved to be near the familiar yet unsure what familiar was anymore. I felt naked in Penn Station with so many penetrating eyes. The way people passed each other, cold, ignoring, rushing, not trusting. There were few smiles and no cheerful greetings between strangers. I didn't like it, but I as I walked around Queenstown I found myself doing the same thing. Unfortunately I don't particularly feel like going into my "re-entry" feelings and thoughts. If you're curious ask, but I don't know if I'll have answers – I'm still working out how I feel. This email will skim the surface of my psyche and no more.

Being in New Zealand requires much eye-gazing, there is much natural beauty. Yet with every rolling hill a part of me thought "this isn't Kenya" – sometimes I wish it was. New Zealand possess a different beauty. There are farmlands of orchards and row after row of vegetables. Trees huddle together for company or stand in solitary meditation on grassy fields. Cows relax in fields freckled with dandelions and woolly sheep nibble the greenery like flecks of salt on lettuce green hills. Wildflowers line the roads like so many onlookers at a parade, watching the cars whip by. I spotted Queen Anne's lace, foxglove, Scottish broom, buddleia, double daisies, and white clovers. All English flowers brought presumably by the colonists. Quaint you say? Pretty even? Yes, perhaps they do make a pretty picture. However these flowers are choking the natural flora, destroying the native environment. Furthermore, along with cows and sheep British settlers brought Australian possums, stoats and rabbits to New Zealand, a land without mammals of any kind (except bats). Lacking natural predators these animals went forth, were fruitful and multiplied at exponential rates. They killed off the majority of exotic birds living on both the north and south islands. There are currently 60 million possums in New Zealand and about 2000 Kea birds (the only alpine parrot in the world). Prior to human arrival (including Maori to some extent) those numbers were probably reversed.

Many of the trees remind me of the American northwest but everything else makes me think of England. It's actually kind of bizarre. We're in Christchurch right now and I could be on the outskirts of London. I feel slightly nostalgic walking around this city or driving through the countryside.

What I find most amazing about New Zealand is its diverse environment. One moment I'm driving through a pseudo English countryside and the next I'm in a Jurassic jungle. I could've sworn I saw a pterodactyl swooping over the hills. A few days later we drove through dry Southern California-like mountains en route to Queenstown. At one point we passed an especially tempting field of flowers and wild grass; I nearly asked to stop the car so I could pick a posy. However we had a set itinerary which we stuck to, it didn't include much time for wandering or posy picking. So many bookstores, so little time etc.

Being with my family was rather a treat. I rarely get to see Evan nowadays. His hair is longer than my mom's – and still that amazing copper color. Damn genetics, its not fair! We are an utterly ridiculous family. Puns are pseudo mandatory (at least one per person per day), so is quoting from Monty Python and/or Lord of the Rings (preferably at the location where the movies were filmed). The first place we look for wherever we go is a bookstore and extra points if it's a used bookstore. My dad and I gleefully count road kill, argue about politics and history over dinner and get excited about live blues bands. I'm still a brat to my brother but I maintain it's good for him, keeps him humble. Mom and I chat about everything, aimlessly wander the streets and visit art museums. Dinner was my favorite time of day here, partly because of the food but mostly because of the witty and thought provoking conversations (a perfect chance to fulfill one's pun quota).

I bet I'm forgetting a million more anecdotes. I'll try to briefly re-cap the highlights: I went kayaking and saw seals, dolphins and penguins; went sky diving; practiced French with a gay Tahitian Frenchman, becoming quite enamored; got through a history of reproductive legislation in colonial and post-colonial Kenya; saw lakes of turquoise, ancient glaciers, terrifying Scottish highland bulls, and all sorts of exotic birds; and ate far too much fruit.

Love to all