CITY OF VOLCANOES

Since moving to Auckland last year, I have become fascinated with the number of volcanoes that inhabit the city. The count according to the Lonely Planet is fifty, all of which lie around the city’s boundary. At the end of May, I moved to Mangere East, a multicultural district of Auckland 40 minutes away across the industrial section named “Highbrook” from Burswood, my former neighborhood. Without intending to do so, I became almost obsessed with the job of climbing as many volcano peaks as I could. My new regiment, although not diligently so, is now to discover different sights of Auckland and the thousands of inlets that carve out its meandering coastline from these peaks. So far, I’ve climbed four.

Perhaps this new intention was driven by my first hike up Maungarei (Mt. Wellington) volcano in Pakuranga. This peak is easy to get to by rail, as the entry to the volcano is steps away from the Pakuranga transit site and Panmure Basin. Doubling as a conservation and recreational site, Maungarei gave me scenic views of the elevated coastal trail that leads further up into the Cockle Bay and Bucklands Beach areas. This walking trail is a good one to tackle if you have an entire afternoon to waste seeing the beautiful sights of South Auckland. It takes almost three to four hours to complete from the starting point of Maungarei volcano, and there are different towns along this trail, which boast cafes and other places to eat. However, if you don’t have the time, there is always Panmure Basin, a lagoon encompassed by residences and another walking trail that loops around the edge of the water. From the vantage point of the peak of Maungarei, the views of the bays are magnificent and overpower the hectic urban skyline with a vengeance.

A view of the edge of the volcanic crater

A slow descent into the mouth of the crater

Rob in the distance, a speck against the massive crater

Panmure, a strong contrast against the resplendent peace of Maungarei

Still at Maungarei, but above the carpark where visitors enter

Rob pointing out the urban scene, which looks a million miles away

Panmure Basin? It's not far from here

Urban wastewater catchment. Just beyond is an industrial centre.

This day couldn't make up its mind: rainy or sunny? A brief glimpse at the sky clearing up.

Looks windy - it was a bit!

The road, Mountain Road, which takes all there to the top of the world.

On another afternoon, following a visit with my friend’s relations, we suddenly got the urge to hike up Maungakiekie, better known by the English name, One Tree Hill. The popular rock band, U2, commemorated this volcano in one of their songs, and I could see why. Not just a mound of dormant lava, this volcano has evolved into both a recreational and reserve area. While this dual function is not unusual in New Zealand, Maungakiekie is unique in that it is also a farm. Peasants, chickens, sheep and other animals roam freely across the grounds of this historical site. Despite the numbers of people, who take advantage of its serenity, Maungakiekie volcano is slow paced. Climbing up its jagged hillside, one gets the feeling that one is not in the city at all, especially when rabbits are sighted emerging from their hiding place of a hole on the side of the mountain.          

And on yet another day, following an outing and an errand in the city, my friend and I decided to walk back to Mangere East. We followed Symonds Road as far as the fork in the highway, where just beyond, we sighted a plaque with the name Maungawhau. This was the Mt. Eden volcano; I remembered the name in my Lonely Planet travel book. Not realizing how close this volcano was to the university, although I probably should not have been, I was taken aback. Recognition soon gave way to a delightful squeal, happy to have found it as it was on my list of things to do. The entry to hiker’s trail was clearly not a path well trodden, but up we went, braving the cold, drizzle, and the too-quickly descending evening that gradually encloaked our hunched forms as we briskly approached the peak of the volcano. Runners beat us to the top, but they hurriedly descended almost as quickly as they ran up. I tried to enjoy this latest achievement of conquering yet another Auckland volcano. The wet weather, which had hardened to pelting raindrops by this time, dampened my enthusiasm a little bit. The cold in Auckland’s winters can snake its way into your lungs and soul, and days later we – especially my friend – paid for it with sniffles and a slight temperature, both a sign that the flu was just around the corner. Expressing concern for my well-being, my friend decided to make this visit to Maungawhau a short one, fearing my cold might get worse. Despite the emotional misery that only winter can induce, I could not take my eyes away from the views of the stars, the nightline, and the coast, which in the darkening sky, had deepened to the shade of a barely discernible deep purple and navy blue.

Several days later, undeterred by the bad weather, my friend happily took me out on another excursion: to Mangere mountain, a volcano in our neighborhood. This volcano gives a stronger sense of security, especially if you decide to embark on a hike on a whim without the normal accoutrements of trail mix and hastily concocted sandwiches. The contingency of fish and chip shops and outdoor cafes in the neighboring, historical Mangere Bridge village gives the intrepid walker some peace of mind.    

Although the sites from Mangere were very similar to those viewed from the peaks of the other volcanoes, I can’t say that I tire of them. The tightly curved bays, canoes skimming across the blue waters, the rugged coastlines, and the expansive sky as the backdrop all give me the sensation of being a tiny, inconsequential mosquito in the middle of all this tranquil, yet busy, activity. You realize just how small you really are and how small your contribution is to world history. Being so high up, the rest of the world looking like distant ants and Lego structures, the conflicts and frustrations melt like soft ice cream from my tense shoulders and are mentally packed tightly away in a hidden corner of my mind to be dealt with later.       

ADMINISTRATIVE BULLYING

       The day began with thick, grey clouds and a heavy drizzle, not unusual for winter in Auckland. I wrapped myself up in rain gear and boots not made for temperate, rainy climates. I felt upbeat in the morning because I looked forward to finalizing some administrative paperwork for which I had been sent reminders: one from the immigration office, telling me that I had to submit my paperwork to renew my visa, and the other from the financial aid officer telling me to submit my signed paperwork to process my US federal loans for the upcoming year.

I arrived at the University intent on completing the renewal application for my student visa and did not anticipate any problems. I arrived on campus with about an hour to spare – enough time for me to fill out the application, to make a copy for myself, and to print out another copy of my re-enrollment letter for the 2014 to 2015 school year. The graduate centre had sent me this letter to facilitate the processing of this required paperwork and thus I did not foresee problems. At the very least, I assumed that they clerks would receive my application and then complete the processing of the paperwork once all the needed information was received from another office. The re-enrollment letter sent by the graduate centre was essential, which I had in my possession.

Keep in mind that I went through this miasma of seeming confusion last year when I transferred from Massey to Auckland University. Then, I was told by an employee at the graduate centre that I would need to submit a registration confirmation along with my student visa renewal application in order to complete the process. In addition, I was to see the financial aid counselor to get a letter informing the immigration office of my approval for another year of US Federal loans. I was also instructed then to request that the financial aid counselor at Auckland contact the person at the international office who compiles the paperwork for international students in preparation for review by the immigration office.

The immigration office has a policy of processing the student visa application in partnership with education providers, presumably to reduce the cost of the renewal fee for students, who obviously cannot work full time. NZ$165 is the renewal fee, but varies slightly depending on when the application is submitted.

About 48 days ago, I received the e-mail from the immigration office regarding my student visa renewal. I was advised to submit my renewal application a minimum of 30 days before the expiration date (1 August 2014) of my student visa. Since I knew the workers at the international office and the financial aid counselor – I have made several trips to both offices to clarify and obtain information for and from them – I did not anticipate that they would create the same obstacles for me, consequently making it (a) hard to receive my loan funds in time with the balance that (due to rent and food payments) could be in danger of depreciating to zero (thus, leaving me with no living allowance), and (b) put me in danger of deportation if the immigration office decides that submitting my student visa renewal application 7 days before the expiration date is not allowable. (Someone at the international office assured me that the 7 day deadline was okay, which contrasts with the advice given to me in the email from the immigration office).

Last year, in the course of getting immigration advice for changing my education provider and how to go about doing it, I was bounced from one office to another. The Palmerston North immigration branch told me to get the information from Massey, which only resulted in that office telling me to go back to the Palmerston North office. To help facilitate the process, I was eventually informed by Auckland Uni graduate centre that I should submit my registration form, but surprisingly this failed to do any good. It began to dawn on me that someone might have been intentionally obstructing this transfer (the next blog clues you into who this person might be), especially after making contact with the contact person at Auckland, who advises international students on such matters. In spite of the presence of the provisional registration form, this person told me that I still needed to be enrolled before they can process the student visa and change the education advisor. My enrollment date then was set for July 1, 2013, but I could not officially enroll until the education provider was changed on my student visa. This gap in my situation was difficult for the administrative staff to reconcile. To me, the reconciliation was the provisional registration form, as the graduate centre had advised me to submit with my student visa renewal application. However, the international office refused to help make the connection.

This year, the same problems emerged. I was bounced from one office to another. And, when I showed them the re-enrollment letter sent to me via e-mail from the postgraduate office, they denied its legitimacy and denied its existence. “Can you read what that says?” I asked one of the clerks in the international office? Silence. In one sentence, the notice unmistakably states in black and white print “you have been re-enrolled for the 2014-2015 school year. This year is 2014 is it not? Since I enrolled at Auckland on July 1 2013, it is understandable to interpret this re-enrollment notice as one that would allow me to study for another year until 1 July 2015. After fighting with me about the letter she must write and sign for the immigration office in support of my student visa renewal application, she acknowledged that it was indeed a re-enrollment letter. (Is it not true that the reason the postgraduate office sent the re-enrollment letter was to facilitate rather than obstruct the application?)/

In the end, I paid another transportation fee to speak with an international program officer, and she advised me to get the letter from the postgraduate office. I pointed out again the presence of the letter sent to me by email, but she insisted that I physically (unnecessarily) obtain another letter from the graduate centre. So, in the end, I had to repeat the process, get a second enrollment letter, and experience another spate of frustration at the operational disconnect between administrative departments at Auckland, one that leads to failure to communicate and to lack of synchronization of actions, which only harms the international student. Ironically, the content of the 2nd letter was essentially the same as the 1st - a declaration that I was re-enrolled until 2017 this time rather than 2015. (This 2017 extension of my graduation date is connected to another curious development in my program, of which I have not been consulted or informed prior to changes being made. So much for treating individuals with dignity and transparency. Another reason to do battle with Auckland).     

When I stepped back out onto Symonds Street to catch a bus home, the rain held at bay for a few hours, began to fall in large droplets. The grey skies and cold winds equaled my mood. Several days later, the student visa application still has not been filed, I was told to sign my promissory note by phone, the first notification of which was sent in an e-mail that I did not receive, and I am apprehensive because I do not know if it is true that submitting my application 7 days before the expiration date is in fact true. 

. . . AND SO ON AND ON IT GOES

I stepped out of the barrister’s office feeling less queasy than before the meeting. I glanced over my right shoulder, beyond to the other side of the park on Symonds Street, and sighted a lone, park bench perched atop the grassy knoll. I sauntered over and sat down on the wooden slabs. I could see the apple core I had tossed, mostly eaten, lying on the leafy mulch carpet beneath the maple tree, a disheveled layer of dead leaves that had piled up as the autumn season dwindled slowly into an indecisive winter.

Unlike New England, the seasons on the North Island aren’t separated by harsh differences in temperature, in which summers can reach as high as 90 degrees Fahrenheit and winters plunge to sub-zero. Rather, the North Island seasons are gentler, each easing into the next, barely noticed until one steps into the outside air and senses the chill that suddenly seeps into one’s pores.

I checked the time on my cell phone and could see that more than an hour had passed. Although the meeting was brief, the length of time it took to clarify my questions was long enough to get the information I needed. My head felt much clearer, less confused, and there was a pleasant lightness in my step. The dark, foreboding shadow, which had begun to represent my doctorate future, gave way to slits of rays of light, bringing optimism. The barrister reassured me that the policies regarding academic conduct, which I had culled from various pages of the University of Auckland website, were accurate and not dated, as one person had said. About four weeks ago, the Graduate Centre sent me three packets of information regarding academic standards and integrity to which doctorate students and academic staff are to adhere. 

The barrister’s reassurances informed me that my interpretation of the statutes were correct. The document clearly outlining the guidelines for completing and grading the PhD thesis, Statute and Guidelines for the Degree of Doctorate of Philosophy (PhD), now contain numerous yellow highlighted lines, bringing attention to the statues, which prove that I had followed the rules. The university is obviously interested in producing qualified academics, and their guidelines on the quality of the doctorate thesis are clear testaments to the institution’s goals. However, these policies also reinforced to me that the conduct and guidance of my committee was incorrect, that is, in violation of the statutes. My meeting with the barrister simultaneously convinced me that the conduct of the School of Architecture and Planning regarding my provisional year is truly baffling.

Back at the house now, in the room I am renting, at my desk, where I placed the sheaths of pages containing e-mail communications between my supervisors and I dating back to June 2013, I now read through the contents of various e-mails. My eyes skim the communications, which refer to the contents of my research proposal, my fingers slowly leafing through the printed pages containing the most incriminating messages. I sight where I had submitted all the drafts of my doctorate thesis, where I had submitted various drafts of my research proposal, where I had explained having already included the information my committee thought should be in the research proposal, and read through the research proposal yet again in its different draft stages. From my readings, I could see that the same questions had been reconciled over and over in my proposal, albeit worded and reworded differently in order to make it easier for the reader to understand. I could also see where their comments contradicted earlier ones. For instance, in a February e-mail, my supervisor acknowledged reading the pertinent definitions requested by them for clarity, but soon after in a separate e-mail, claimed that I needed to include these same definitions in the proposal. I had never taken out these definitions since his acknowledgement and, moreover, have been included in the proposal since September or October last year (2013). This communication typifies the nature of my committee’s feedback on my research proposal over the last ten months. Keeping in mind that I wrote this proposal using the teaching sample guidelines as well as that of the School of Architecture and Planning, it is truly interesting to me, if not peculiar, that despite having followed these guidelines my committee still found shortcomings in the proposal. And yet, their feedback has not in fact improved it considerably, either. Furthermore, from having again reviewed these comments for the umpteenth time, I could see that these “issues” could have been resolved in early October 2013.      

In a most recent comment, my supervisor sent readings to me to help me write the methodology - more than a year after I had completed the draft of the methodology chapter. I had even revised this chapter in September 2013 and got it to a point where I was able to condense the chapter to the most relevant, if not informative, contents. I pointed out that the methodology I selected were most appropriate for this study (consisting of two case studies), communities that had never been researched before on the topic of resilient food systems (and, therefore, exploratory case study is most appropriate), and will use a combination of research tools to obtain my data. Verification of data is a necessary part of the analysis, but it is not necessary to enter into a lengthy discussion in the research proposal about the points that I will be verifying. And yet, despite the work that I had put into discussing the methodology and my application of readings, which justify the methodology I selected to design my study, my committee decides to now send me readings that do not really improve the methodology.

One committee member even asked me in a recent e-mail that he does not know how I am going to operationalise my study, although this information has been present in the research proposal from the very beginning. Because I had first sent the draft chapter to them on 28 June, 2013, why they are giving these readings to me now – towards the end of my provisional year – and enquiring how I will operationalise the field collection is baffling to me. After all, they had all of July, August, and September 2013 to advise me on the contents of the methodology chapter, and then again in the months, thereafter.

Over the months of my provisional year, I noticed that this committee appeared to be intent on having me use certain methods or theories, and even dictating the direction of my research (in spite of the fact that neither of my committee members have published on resilience theory or food systems), but have failed to answer my questions of “why?” when the theory I selected and methodology I designed were more appropriate for the purpose of understanding learning and adaptive capacities in the food system community. Although I had explained more than once my reason for using the learning-adaptive capacity dimension of resilience theory and why I am using the exploratory case study to do my research, they in turn failed to exposit their reasons to me for why they thought I should pursue action network theory (ANT) or why I should discuss at length triangulation (i.e. verification). They do not seem to be satisfied with the rationales I have given, but the University of Auckland statutes support the fact that doctorate students engage in their research independently. This aspect of the doctorate program, after all, is part of the training to becoming a career academic capable of independently designing and conducting research. The nature of the feedback from my committee demonstrates to me an unwillingness to move my provisional year forward, despite testaments to the contrary.

Since I began openly discussing these breaches of university statutes, I began to see the light regarding the comments made to me from other international students. Back in August 2013, one international student told me that “they” would give me problems, while another informed that they give many students problems. In January, after meeting with an academic staff not connected to my department or committee to get another perspective on the contents and organization of my research proposal, a doctorate student from Germany told me that he has been enrolled in his provisional year almost two years and still has not received permission to leave for his fieldwork. And then, last month, a person at the Botany library informed me about a man from Chile, who was invited to do his PhD at Auckland University. After completing components of his research, following his return from his fieldwork, he was suddenly told that his funding ended, which eliminated the possibility of completing his doctorate program and obtaining the qualification to teach. How convenient. Such obstacles created for doctorate students, I now understand, are the “problems” to which the other students referred.

Such occurrences make me suspicious about the university’s true intentions behind accepting international students. Because of these issues, my mind reverts back to the student from India, who had begun his doctorate studies at Massey University only to find that his research had been hijacked at the end of his program, possibly by someone at the university. That this goes on at all at respectable institutions is ironic, as some senior staff have earned degrees in international universities (as highly regarded as Princeton, Yale, and Harvard), indicating that they were probably treated with dignity. I wonder how these academics would feel if they had been treated in the same way that I and other international doctorate students have been treated here at Auckland and Massey.

Save for the brief euphoria elicited by my pleasant visit with the barrister – a reprieve from the melancholy moods that had settled into my days - I silently wondered what good would come out of the meeting. If the university cannot even enforce its own policies on its academic staff, who would be able to do so? Dare I say that my academic experience with the university, especially when weighed along with those of other international students, exhibit signs of taking advantage of international students? 

HOMELESS

You’re always alone, I notice,

said the beggar from in the alleyway.

I see you in this alley weekly,

carrying that same dumb notebook.

What’s the matter, you dumb or something?

He asked of her, searching for an explanation,

from the tepid smile that lingered,

loosely on her closed, brown lips.

Listen. . . .

I need a cigarette,

That merchant no sell me,

I crave it; it’s so cold here,

In this dumb city,

And I ain’t got no money.

Reaching into her back pocket,

For some change and crumpled dollar bills,

Willing to indulge him,

In his addiction to the smoke – she,

A ladybug that was flung into the gutters

after the rainfall. 

Gracias, gracias, senorita, he mumbled,

Humbled by her split-second generosity.

The smile that played on her lips,

Quickly disappeared, transforming into

The hazy self-pity, that grew

Like a sour pomelo, dangling precariously

on the tip of a tree bough. 

When he took the camel lights from her fingers,

Bowed, and walked briskly away,

Into the Mission District throng,

She lingered alone on the sidewalk,

Gazing quietly after his departing figure.

© Copyright Camille Tuason Mata (2008)San Francisco, California

HOWICK HISTORICAL VILLAGE

           Just after the New Year, after planning for weeks to take a walk to the Howick Historical Village, I finally did it. The village structure is situated not far from the Burswood neighbourhood, where I live. A short walk through the neighbourhood, up a hilly path, through a children’s playground and onto Golfland Drive I went. From this point, I followed the road signs through busy traffic, complete with honking cars, until a got to the dirt road closed off from cars by a chain link. This appeared to be the back entrance to the village.

            Howick Historical Village is a reincarnation of the European settlers, who lived in this defence outpost and presents life as it was from 1840 to 1880. The historical buildings and landmarks, distinguishing this settlement, have been preserved by the Howick Historical Society, and give visitors the feeling of having walked back in time. If you have ever been to the Old Sturbridge Village in western Massachusetts, then you can imagine what this one is like.

            I was not able to go in, as I was afraid still at the time to randomly pay for entry fees to museums, but I was still able to get inside the yard and onto the porch of the Bell house, which sits astride the edge of the village quarters. From my vantage point, I could see people in costume milling about, pretending to have (I presume) conversations regarding matters in their lives as they were important to them then.

            I did a bit of reading on the history of this village and the surrounding areas. The village is located in the historical city of Howick, renamed as such by Earl George Grey, a former Governor Captain, from the name given to the area of Owairoa (flat waters). When the Europeans arrived, the Maoris (the Ngaitai Tainui) had already inhabited the area since more than 1,000 years ago. When the Europeans arrived, the Maoris perceived them as a threat, but Chief Wiremu of Ngati-noho, curbed a potentially volatile relationship by using diplomacy and sharing of goods.

Earl Grey had converted Howick into a strategic buffer to protect Auckland from invaders from the south. From walking around and reading little historical tidbits here and there from signposts marking physical landmarks, I deduced that this area, Howick, Mangere, Panmure, and Pakuranga were former defencible (soldier settler) areas set up to create a military buffer around Auckland. It seems the in-migration of Europeans, despite efforts to welcome them peacefully, ultimately resulted in land wars that displaced Maori maraes from lands considered to be invaluable to cultural survival – not unlike the land displacement histories of Native Americans and other indigenous peoples.

One name, in particular, kept popping up as I visited places and read placards: Robert Massey. He owned large tracts of lands that were eventually parcelled out and bequeathed to government and possibly returned to some Maori tribes. Two homesteads, in Howick and Mangere, commemorate his contribution to New Zealand history.

The recognition of Maori presence in the Howick Historical Village barely shows up. I looked at photographs from a book on the village’s history (An Introduction to the Howick Historical Village by Alan La Roche), and apart from a raupo cottage, which looks very much like a bontoc  (of the Philippines) house on stilts, there was very little to speak of in the make-up of Howick’s first settlers in the Howick Historical Village. 

Entry path leading into the Howick Historical Village cafe

School

Cottages on the property

Lazy Saturday just after the New Year

On the property of Howick Historical Village

Bell House

Walking path cutting through a conservation area

A loft on the hillside at the edge of the conservation area

River  below the loft

Old bridge connecting the Robert Massey property to another property

At one of the Massey Homesteads in Botany (Pukeko in the background)

Robert Massey homestead in Botany

Bell House from another angle at the Howick Historical Village

CORRUPTING HIGHER EDUCATION

In the Pocket Oxford English Dictionary, corruption is defined as “dishonest or illegal behaviour”. To be corrupt means “willing to act dishonestly in return for money or personal gain”. Willingness means to act in defence of dishonest behaviour. The desire for personal gain can be fed by jealousies or animosity towards another, which is in and of itself wrong, but corrupt behaviour would be considered to be a character flaw.

A normal assumption to make, when a student is accepted into a doctoral program, is that the school is committed to training students to become career academics. Naturally, the training would involve directing the PhD thesis at each stage of the program towards meeting the standards of the university so that the student advances towards candidacy. The incentive for universities to ensure students succeed through the PhD program is to prove their training capacities, which is evidenced by students’ publications once they have achieved the status of academic.

The assumption that the academic training institutions will respect and create a positive and productive learning environment is normal if not mandated. The Auckland University student charter makes known that it has “a special responsibility to foster and preserve scholarly values; support the search for truth and curiosity-led investigation; maintain intellectual integrity; encourage critical appraisal; and to nurture these values in their students” (1.1). The Charter further acknowledges that it holds the university accountable for “providing (sic) an academic environment in which students can be stimulated to reach a high level of intellectual attainment” (2.5) These standards have not been fulfilled with respect to my case. Rather, the feedback on my written work has ranged from suggesting that I write to the level of a 12 year old in light of the complexity of resilience theory to adding extraneous information to the research proposal that is better left expounded in the literature review chapter, to failing to understand the manageability of my research. Doing field observations of the food systems to two composite cities (small ones), coupled with collecting survey and interview data, over a period of six to eight months is more than manageable, and is certainly do-able. In addition, I have been discouraged from using resilience theory in my study rather than being encouraged and supporting my research interest in resilient food systems even after I had explained the importance of this study and the need to it in Bukidnon Province, an agricultural centre of the Philippines.

The lack of encouragement has been made worse by the veiled threats of failure in my provisional year despite the progress I have made in my thesis. As I told one supervisor, I have exceeded the minimal requirements (the literature review and a full research proposal) in the provisional year. My achievements have included these two milestones as well as the background and methodology chapters, and survey and interview questions. I have also developed my itinerary for my fieldwork as well as the table of contents, complete with summaries about the content of the remaining chapters. Essentially, I have completed almost fifty percent of my PhD thesis; the remaining chapters can be written only after I complete the fieldwork. This second stage of my thesis, primary data collection, meets the originality requirement expected of all PhD theses. As so, the fieldwork becomes inevitable and cannot be avoided. My doctorate work (under "Camille Tuason Mata's Projects") speaks for itself.

In a phone call, upon learning about my situation, one European professor opined that “they (my committee, possibly the university) are taking advantage of you”. Another professor, from Canada, upon hearing my concerns regarding the conduct of key university personnel, expressed the view that they were bullying me. I concur with him. One committee member displayed a lack of confidence in my ability to do the fieldwork, who expressed in August (2013) that he will not release me for the fieldwork if I was not clear on the methodology and research objective. Since he made that statement to me, I have made both clear and have elucidated both in the research proposal, but I still have not been cleared for the fieldwork. Yet, the Student Charter makes explicit the importance of “providing (sic) an environment free from harassment and discrimination, consistent with the Human Rights Act 1993 and University’s Harassment Policy” (2.10).

As anyone interested in succeeding in the provisional year would do, especially in light of the expensive costs of studying, I approached the student advocacy office. Apart from the e-mail from one advocate informing me of the breaches in policy of one supervisor’s attitude, I have not been aided adequately. I have requested new supervisors, but the graduate centre has ignored these requests. I have also sought help from entities outside of the university, such as the different Citizens Advice Bureaus, and contacted attorney offices that can refer me to lawyers, who can advise me properly. I have spent time seeking out legal advice because the entities at Auckland responsible for ensuring that student rights are respected and “endeavour to act in the best interests of students through wide consultation” (3.1), but with little help in referring me to anyone who may know education law. I have not had a lot of success either from the Head of School, who has not acted in the interest of my academic success.

What is the incentive to create obstacles for me? Returning to the Oxford Dictionary, corrupt conduct for personal gain can also be fuelled by racist sentiments towards a group or individual perceived as not belonging, and can manifest in the misuse or abuse of power. One legal advisor at one of the Citizens Advice Bureaus even informed me that retaliation may be part of the system. Failing to hold systems accountable for corrupt behaviour can acculturate corruption into social systems, making it a normal feature of everyday operations. This appears to be the situation at Auckland, evidenced in the circuitousness and sluggishness of the pace of feedback, and the failure to give me the proper representation and advocacy I need.

AN AFTERNOON IN MANGERE

               Today, I digress from my disclosures about the problems at Massey and Auckland Uni, thoughts which have troubled and preoccupied my mind all throughout the 16 months of my doctorate life in New Zealand, to focus on more pleasant experiences. This technique, one I have perfected throughout my life, allows me to dissociate from those individuals obsessed with creating problems in my endeavours so that I can gain some perspective. It is also a technique that recharges my batteries after battling with ineffective systems, accurately characterized by sluggish, do-nothing bureaucracies that have failed to respond to breaches of academic policies.

            This week, as I have done every week since arriving in New Zealand in 2012, I consciously took a detour to be in the company of someone who calms me. I spent an afternoon in a Mangere neighborhood, where I became acquainted with my new-found friend’s guard dogs, nibbled on pastries purchased at a bakery in my neighbourhood, and sipped Turkish coffee made with a press. I learned that the right equipment is absolutely essential to brewing Turkish coffee just to get the right rich flavour out of it. In between, we chatted amiably about odds and ends, his family history, land troubles, New Zealand settler history, took a brief walk to the Massey homestead, a massive Victorian house bequeathed to the Auckland Council, and about being rooted in the North Island. He, an aspiring writer, is attempting to chronicle the burdens of protecting lands owned by his Maori half in order to reveal the betrayals bestowed on his kin by the Pakeha government. That afternoon, though, we barely talked about his book project, preferring instead to putter around in his yard, pulling out weeds from his garden patches. He pointed out edibles and ornamentals to me, and encouraged me to taste the leaves of plants for identification. His face, stern, was deep in concentration as he flicked unwanted weeds to the side.

            Mangere, as with Otara and Otahuhu, are Auckland’s Pacific Island communities. Like the neighborhood patterns of segregation in the US, these three districts are inhabited by a population of low-income families. Violence and vagrancy also partially define these neighbourhoods, but are not as obvious as in America’s inner cities. In comparison, Mangere, Otara, and Otahuhu are relatively clean and maintained, hiding the poverty of the families there.

            In between exuberant bursts of energy I devote to revising and re-writing my thesis (which is all I’m doing on it, these days), I like to search for inspirations in books and around the community made accessible to me. This day was no different. After I departed my friend’s home, I trekked the long walk to Burswood through now-familiar streets. After four days of making appointments at the public library, the smells of feijoa and Chilean guava trees have become familiar. On this day, I was eager to view the Highbrook Reservation Park, a nice respite before the landscape merges with the industrial, commercial section of this district. I stopped at the bridge, which crosses the lagoon, where locals seem to like to fish. If I’m lucky, I catch glimpses of the lagoon’s inhabitants when they fly into the air, their precise form veiled by sprays of water as they leap into the air and reenter. A barely audible splat and concentric ringlets signify their submergence into the lagoon’s depths.

            In the later afternoon, still hours before my evening run, I finish off Amanda Knox’s memoir and then slide into John Zilkiowski’s story about creating educational opportunities for youth in inner-city America and in developing countries. I find strength in the courage and tenacity of both protagonists. These digressions, with which I consciously pepper lazy hours in between those spent on my thesis, maintain my sanity and keep my chakra balanced.

            The slight chill in my bedroom reminds me that autumn is just around the corner. I interrupt my reading to brew another cup of coffee. Easy motions allow me to reminisce about another place representing serenity. Although I can’t see these views of another lagoon along the Pakuranga-Panmure from the kitchen patio door, they are attainable on foot from my neighborhood. No one can ever deny that the New Zealand landscape is quite plausibly unmatched by any other place.

An inlet separating Pakuranga from Panmure

The beginning of the path which winds along the edge of this lagoon

Lots of sailboats moored

Wooden bridge allowing pedestrians to cross the sandbars

A view of the lagoon from the bridge

More sailboats

This path has these tiny houses facing the lagoon

A shady spot along this winding path

Low tide

Nearing Tamaki Bay Road, this view shows the distance of this walking path

Another beach bather's house