*A modified version of my e-mail update*
Are you reading this post with trepidation? Worried that I haven’t written in so long I must have joined a cult and am now only writing to sweetly inquire after your credit card number so that we can finance Sultan Bawanagathei’s message of peace, love, harmony and gold Rolls-Royces? Or perhaps I am writing following some horrible debilitating accident that has left me immobile for months and you – you callous friend – have not seen fit to send me an e-mail asking if I was alright, as I slowly regained the use of my lips!Well, don’t worry. I’m fine. (Never normal, but doing alright, thanks for asking.) Wellington is in the midst of winter, still a difficult concept for my northern hemisphere brain to comprehend. I have actually had a burst of activity here in the past month, a welcome break from the relatively low-key goings-on that typify diplomacy in New Zealand. (Washington, DC counterparts: I leave at 5 PM – eat your heart out!) Earlier in August, I used up some leave and convinced my buddies to avoid responsibility and take Friday off to ski. We headed to Mt. Ruapehu in the central North Island, where I’d been once before last year. When I was there in ’03, the first day all of the lifts were closed due to high winds – someone got blown off of a chair lift, which was seen as a possible hazard, despite the fact that you can’t really file a lawsuit here. The second day, all the runs were open, but there wasn’t a lot of snow, so the only way down the mountain was to ski the top half and ride the chairlift down. This year, however, yowzah! I was much more impressed. The guys took snowboarding lessons on the beginner slope. I did about 6 hours of straight skiing, and didn’t hit the same run twice. In fact, they have so many trails that at one point, I thought I’d gotten lost, since I couldn’t see another person. I had to hikeup a hill – in ski boots, so my quads are quite fit now. (“Look for the positive in everything” was my mantra as I almost passed out from exertion.) What I like about Ruapehu is that it’s an active volcano, and they have guidelines along the runs on where to ski if the lahar (volcanic mud collected in the top crater) suddenly spills over. OK – THAT’s a normal hazard on a skifield! Not quite on par with Chechen rebels in Georgia, but you make your own drama, right? Yesterday, however, there was a HUGE avalanche in the South Island, originally planned by the staff to ease the snow weight, it got out of control. No one was injured, thankfully (since I’m on duty this week!)The second day, I did something I’ve wanted to try for years – I took a snowboarding lesson. Not that this should come as a surprise to anyone, butmy level of athleticism is pretty low. And I have no balance. It’s a hard sport! That and it was overcast and the ground was ice. It was funny to watch, though, because the kids taking lessons would fall over and get back up. The adults would fall over and then try to discuss with the teacher what they’d done wrong and rationalize why and how they fell. As if physicsexplained our inability to pick something up on the first go. No excuses for my performance, but I broke my tailbone about 18 months ago, and it tookone great big fall to remind me that it hadn’t healed properly. I’m such a wuss, trying not to cry with this shooting pain in my rear-end. How do you look genteel rubbing your own bum? You don’t. Thankfully, the guys were sympathetic, albeit natural athletes who whizzed by me after one day of lessons. I braved the pain as long as I could, and seemed to get the hang of it, but they had me on normal foot, and I think I should have been goofy. (Insert obvious barbed comment here!) So, maybe I’ll try again in the future, but for now I’ve crossed something off my list of things to do.Merely seven days after our chilly ski adventure, I was winging my way to Apia, Samoa for the Pacific Islands Forum, a gathering of Pacific Leaders working to promote economic growth, good governance, regional security, etc,etc. The U.S. is involved in the Post-Forum Dialogue, as we have territories as well as great interest in the goings-on in the Pacific. I landed on Saturday morning, which was odd since I had already had a full Saturday in Wellington. I made the dateline work for me – a three day weekend, and no Wednesday on the way back! It was about 90 degrees hot and humid. And it’s winter there. Our delegation was headed by the Assistant Secretary for the region, a high-ranking guy who has been working in that region for decades. He’s out point person on North Korea, so lots of folks wanted meetings. Rather sad, really, “welcome to Samoa, you’re going to spend the next two days sitting in one chair having meetings for 10 hours a day.” Ok, not so sad for me, since we had two notetakers, and I managed to sneak in some quality pool time and even a day of vacation snorkeling at a place called Lolamanu, on the eastern tip of the island. It was incredible – my coworker stopped counting different fish when she hit 57 in about 3 minutes. And the coral was healthy and about 20 feet from shore. I’m spoiled, I admit. And now, to the reason for the title of this e-mail. Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson was in Samoa during the Post-Forum gathering. Forthose who are scratching your head, he was a WWF wrestler “Can you smell what the Rock has cooking?” against such favorites as Hulk Hogan, etc. He now does action films, including the new movie “Walking Tall,” and he did some film called “Rumble in the Jungle” I think with Stiffler from American Pie. Anyway! He dominated media coverage, with noone paying any attention to, say, Australian Prime Minister Howard. I had managed to miss all Rock sightings, but when we got to Lolamanu, there was a woman who brought out our woven mats, which go on the floor of the fale (hut) so you can get out of the sun. She said in halting English that the Rock would be in the nearby village very shortly. She kept saying “upstairs,” but everything was one story, so go figure. We said that actually we’d rather go snorkeling, and didn’t need to see the Rock. After a look of mixed shock/horror/disgust, she tried again. “Many white people.” We had to laugh – I think many white people is a good thing? An assurance that we wouldn’t be the only out-of-towners? I have no idea, but we replied that if they had many white people, they didn’t need any more.
A short description of Samoa, since few will likely visit. One, it’s apparently more beautiful than American Samoa. Two, Robert Louis Stevenson lived there. His grave and house-museum are up the mountain near Apia. I didn’t have time to go, but heard they are worth the trip. Three, Samoan men are very friendly. Watch your back, ladies. Literally. (Of course, they’re very attractive as well…) Four, not a lot of restaurants, but thereare enough good places to eat that a two-week vacation would be filled. Five, for any who know “South Pacific,” Aggie Grey, proprietor of Aggie Grey’s hotel, is thought to be portrayed in the musical as Bloody Mary. Aggie Grey’s is an institution in the South Pacific, and if you know any WWII GI’s who visited Samoa, I’m sure they remember it fondly. Ahem. Six, the women wear sarongs or island-print dresses. The men wear lavalavas, aka a skirt. Secure in their masculinity, and practical for 100 degree temperatures. Seven, most of the houses (fales) don’t have walls. I guess there are no issues of concern over things being stolen, although I didn’t ask. People will spend money getting electricity and water first, and then worry about buying and building walls.
Sorry my notes are short and not as thrilling as past years, but the beauty of New Zealand is how easy it is to live an approximation of an American life. They even have cream cheese at the supermarket. I will test this theory as I depart for the US on the 26th, for a couple of weeks of relaxation. Of course, I timed my visit to NYC to coincide with the Republican Convention, but it adds to the excitement?!
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