"MONTHUS HORRIBILUS"

Queen Elizabeth christened 1992 as her “annus horribilus.” That is what November represented for me, my “monthus horribilus,” the reason I couldn’t blog even when I wanted to. What was appearing to look like a smooth transition into my fieldwork turned out to be, disappointingly, a month of navigating through the red tape, attempting to interpret the language with the aid of an advocate at the international students office in order to answer questions about the required length of the doctoral program and the time I am able to submit my PhD thesis. What appeared to be settled before I even re-applied to transfer turned out to be saturated with question marks. Although the statutes clearly state that the provisional year is allowed flexibility, I presume to take into account the different circumstances of PhD students, I’m discovering somewhat unsettlingly that there’s much that is taken for granted because transparency isn’t always honored here. Or, perhaps it is, and there are individuals who just want to make life difficult for others because they can.

A former classmate once complained to me that he never understands what’s in wait for him in New Zealand, as he is later often told the opposite of what was agreed upon at the time of discussion. I sympathized with him then, as I sympathize with myself now, mainly because I’ve prepared as much as I can for my fieldwork. At this juncture, nothing more needs to be done and nothing more can be written until the data is collected from the field. I use my experience from previous fieldwork expeditions to guide me on the design of my research, the instruments for data collection, and the identification of my participants. Based on the work I’ve produced in this first year of study, I have all the information I need to begin sending out letters informing the relevant people at the research site that I’m coming to do my field research.

Of course, if the administration at Massey University had followed the guidelines and assisted me with another supervisor, who actually possessed the doctorate qualification required to supervise a PhD student, I wouldn’t be spending the last part of October and the entire month of November fighting for the right to graduate within a reasonable amount of time at my current university. I can’t help but feel that the incentive to keep me here longer is driven by the fact that I’m funded entirely by loans, with the exception of some research funds to off-set the cost of study. Personally, I feel that the administrative and academic staff should be more knowledgeable about the regulations so that students worry only about producing the academic standards expected of them to pass the PhD examination.  

In the meantime, I go for walks to release some of this anxiety, paid for four sessions of acupuncture treatment to re-align my chi energy and help me to cope with the bureaucrats, and tend to the garden I’ve created in a small block in the back of the house. After four days of rain, with the sun peeking out from behind the clouds on occasion, the vegetables look drunk from all the water. I’ve had to harvest the Chinese vegetables early – they don’t seem to grow well in clay soil – but the tomatoes and silver beets look very healthy. They won’t be ready until late summer.