I got off to an early
start today. My morning began with a close reading of A History of the Arab Peoples by Albert Hourani, a cup of instant
coffee at my side. The book allows me to search for and hopefully find pieces
of Arabic and Persian history, as Hourani represents it, which connect these middle
earth peoples to the islands and civilizations of the Philippines. Since I have
reached the part of my dissertation that elucidates the background of Bukidnon
Province and the Philippines to give context to my central thesis, resilient
food systems, I am now investigating and comparing the implications of these earlier settlements to changes in land ownership, social structures and
relationships, and the environment against those imposed and induced by the colonial era. Never having framed the historical readings
of the Philippines according to agricultural practices within natural and
human-made systems before, this is a somewhat exciting section of my thesis.
I’m still contemplating how much to put in and where to put the most relevant
sections. At the end of this process, after completing the first full written
draft (which, I anticipate, will be at the end of 2015, if all the proper
papers are submitted and permissions obtained), I can begin re-piecing parts of
the thesis in a satisfactory manner. And, this would mean meeting standards of
the University of Auckland.
This last statement
requires some explanation. Those who have followed my blog know that I
commenced my PhD life at Massey University in Palmerston North. Six months
later, I applied to transfer to the University of Auckland; nine months later I
was taking the overnight bus from the front of the Courthouse at the Square in
Palmy to Manukau, where I managed to find lodging with a naturalized New
Zealander from the Philippines for about the same as what I was paying in Palmy.
Good thing because housing is outrageous in the Auckland area. I had been
thinking about writing this explanation and posting it on my blog in order to
stay true to the purpose of the blog, which is to take readers through the
journey of doing the doctorate in New Zealand. I want to stay true to this
purpose, and sometimes when the unexpected happens, the disappointments that
arise and all that goes along with these feelings, bring a public message meaning to
the experience.
What began for me as an
exciting entry into the final rite-of-passage into an academic job, with the promise of
intellectual and knowledge discoveries that it held, quickly took a turn for
the worse. The scholarship I was told (in a letter) that I was given turned out
to be non-existent; when I enquired about the scholarship, believing then that it
was the New Zealand government scholarship and feeling pleased with myself that
my academic achievements (inclusive of peer-reviewed publications) was finally
being recognized, I was informed that the person, who signed it didn’t even
exist. That was my first odd experience with phantom persons at Massey. The
second was at the medical clinic, to which I turned when I had difficulty
concentrating. Worrying over having to borrow money again to fund my PhD studies, I went to mental health to
ask for informational pamphlets about medication for possible ADHD. The front
desk clerk made an appointment for me with a therapist, but upon my return, I
was called into an office. After clarifying my needs and being told the clinic
did not have the educational information I sought, he proceeded to ask me with
whom my appointment was made. When I gave him the name, he also said that no
such person worked there.
After the confusion
with the alleged scholarship, I began to panic a little and wondered what I had
just unknowingly walked into. To calm myself, I proceeded to the Graduate
Research Services office to ask if I could still submit my application for the
Massey University scholarship for 2013, which I knew was due that same day, and
could I just change the year on it? (I had a busy first weekend if readers
recall in an earlier blog, and in all the confusion I did not have the time to
put my application together. Action was better than no action, I thought, in
order to preserve the opportunity for funding for me. I did not even have access
to a printer, as I had not yet been registered at that time). The woman at the
office agreed to do this. However, months later, there was no word about the
outcome of my scholarship. Again, I pursued the results at the GRS, and only
then was I informed that I did not receive the Massey scholarship. I suspect
that my application was never put in the pile of applicants.
On top of all this, I
ended up being guided by someone, who asked me more questions about the process
of completing a PhD than I did. From my perspective, it seemed she was not very
knowledgeable about it. I was surprised, considering she had informed me that
she had 22 years of experience at Massey. Moreover, in light of the fact that I
was in the doctorate program, and furthermore that the university and the
country has regulations prohibiting non-doctorate instructors from supervising
PhD students, I assumed she had one and had already gone through this process.
I assumed she was in the know. Instead, there turned out to be a number of hiccups,
not least of which was being given equally odd instructions, such as the
importance of completing the human ethics application before I was certain I
had to fill one out because that was the real
research training. Otherwise, she would not sign the low risk form. Add to this,
the comments on my draft chapters targeted gaps that had already been answered in
the content of the chapters and thus didn’t help me to move forward with the
thesis with more significant improvements. Either my guide read through them
quickly and missed the important points, or I was being stymied.
I also found this woman
in my living area on two occasions, although I knew from her that she does not
live in university housing. I began to wonder if there was more to her and to
her selecting me as a supervisee than met the eye.
Besides feeling
deflated about the scholarship and the concerns that my academic guide may not
have the credentials I assumed she has, I found myself developing strategies to protect myself from intruders who somehow seemed to find their way in my
room – even while I was sleeping. Someone seemed to have taken the break-ins in
Zambia, which I reported on my Zambia blog, and recreated them here. I
don’t know why this person(s) is doing this. Was someone following me around
the world and creating problems for me in every new place to which I move? The
parallels between this (among other) incidents at Massey and in Zambia
triggered irrational thoughts. Am I being stalked by someone I can’t see?
Understanding that I
would end up at a dead end if I stayed at Massey, especially with little to no
prospect of getting a new thesis guide (since I was told the person
I named as a replacement was not interested in working with me), I re-applied to
the University of Auckland, was re-accepted, and have already met with my new
supervisor. I am just at the beginning of completing the registration process.
At the end of the day,
my hours are spent in the same way: reading, note-taking, processing. I take
the occasional break to walk or to browse in nearby shops. I got a much needed
haircut for NZ$20.00. As I sit at the dining table, taking a break from
connecting Hourani’s pre-colonial historical account of settlements with
Nadeau’s, I peer curiously at the rains through the blinds as they compete
vociferously for dominance in the sky against the sun. (The sun ultimately fails to keep the
rains at bay). I quietly contemplate doing my laundry today after two weeks of
not having done so. During the day, when the house is at its quietest, the air
freshener occasionally sneezes, sounding like an old man, and keeps me company.
Save for other students
I met while at Massey, the only thing I miss about Palmerston North is the rural landscape, especially the
country roads that wind through residential settlements and sheep farms. I miss my almost daily walks. I also
miss the smell of tea tree, abundant on the walking trails. But, overall, I’m
happy to have transferred because Auckland University is more organized and
more efficient. I’m also happy to be studying at NICAI, where there is an
architecture and planning library solely for the study of planning and
architecture. How much better can this be for a PhD student of urban planning?
After saving for more than a year by diligently reducing my spending in Zambia, running around looking for work upon my return to Massachusetts, and then working the needed seventy hours a week just to fund my flight to New Zealand and the initial costs for re-settling, I happily managed to adapt (again) to these hiccups to preserve my efforts to getting here. At the time, though, they certainly felt more than minor inconveniences. I suppose the learning
lesson from this experience is to verify information about universities before applying, especially
if you’re not familiar with the standards at the university. My best advice
would be to go to federal websites to find out about accreditation, and certainly contact other PhD students in the same department.
Next time – Manukau!
