In the last six weeks,
I’ve moved three times. In my last post, I had settled into the West End of
Palmerston North, fulfilling a housesitting assignment that a professor had requested
of me. Since then, I had moved back to my old Ruahine room, and then as of two
weeks ago, I had reloaded and unloaded my stuff into yet another – this time in
Tararua. Although this new flat is much closer than Atawhai Village, to which I
was initially assigned, all this moving around is nonetheless a bit unsettling,
especially in light of the deadlines ominously looming in the months ahead.
It’s a wonder,
then, even to me that I managed to complete the bulk of my methodology chapter and survey
questions two weeks before THAT deadline at the end of February. The literature
review, the chapter that gave me the greatest trouble (mainly because I had
never written one before) is finished for now and has even been revised a
little to fashion the shape of my dissertation. There’s more work to be done
there, but the changes will have to wait until after the completion of my
fieldwork.
As the sun descends from
the sky behind the distant Ruahine and Tararua mountain ranges (now you know
the namesake of those flats) this quiet evening to gently guide the Massey
campus into darkness, I sit in my self-made cubby in the Geography building, a
fresh, steaming cup of filtered coffee at the edge of my keyboard and write –
the simple luxury of a slice of quiet time in between the cacophony of academic
words floating around in my head, ideas from one discipline mixing with those
of another. Because of the late time – 8:42pm – the campus is desolate. Even my
office companion, Ecka, is off somewhere on campus, possibly visiting another
friendly doctorate student in another building, but probably praying at the
mosque. There are a number of Muslim immigrants in Palmerston North, who
probably decided to settle here after completing their studies. Palmy, I’ve
been told by locals, has diversified because of the university and I can see
their reasons for wanting to stay. The city is relatively staid and green compared
to Auckland, the largest in area size, most populated, and probably most
urbanized city in New Zealand. The Maori community is also very visible both on
campus and around Palmy and as I expose myself to popular culture through the boob
tube, I become acquainted with it. I credit Maori TV for all
that I’m learning. The language lessons teach me words and phrases that I
easily forget because I don’t use them in my daily conversations with people
around me. I also find many words difficult to pronounce because of the triple
vowels often sandwiched in between the consonants.
While housesitting, I
tried my hand at making homemade jam. I found a relatively simple rhubarb jam
recipe online. The rhubarb selection was the inspiration of an extremely large
plant that begged me to break off its massive stalks. After gathering local
ingredients, the cooking project turned out to be a success. I made an ample
volume of jam, which I lovingly spooned into sterilized jars. It must be said,
though, that eating from one’s yard may be more cost-effective than buying from
nearby supermarkets. A news item that has gained some prominence here is the
cost of food. The assumption has been, I suppose, that the high food costs are related
to the lack of land allocated to growing crops. But, John Campbell Live has
been showcasing the reasons and it appears supermarkets hike up prices. The
price difference might actually be due to the huge taxes corporations pay here.
