The Sea...The Sea

Today the sea is a deep, brilliant blue, probably the most beautiful blue I’ve seen yet, but then I say that every day. Beau made a comment that I’d think a bunch of cow dung would be beautiful simply because it was New Zealand cow dung. *cough* Not true. Anyway…

Modest white waves are crashing on the lava rocks which makes it even more picturesque. Not a day hasn’t gone by when I haven’t stood at the top step (of three) of my house, and took a picture of the water. I probably have about 12 pictures of the same exact spot now. I guess I can make a collection by shades of blue.

It’s also Friday, and Beau couldn’t be more pleased. He’s having a tough time at the school. I completely understand everything he’s going through. I remember how hard my first year in Thailand was, and how completely confusing, strange, counter-logical, and in general, completely fucked up things seemed both at the school I taught and out on the streets. It would take another year and a half before I finally reached a relative zen point where I resigned myself to not fight the system, but work quietly within in, trying to make continuous positive changes, though none of them could ever be too big or dramatic. Anything large was immediately stomped out. Smaller changes were let through with a great deal of diplomatic finesse.

Being an “area school,” it is somewhat like a Maori cultural school. For those of you who are not familiar with the Maori, they are the native people of New Zealand. Unlike the Native Americans, the Maori appear to be completely integrated into society and to my unofficial eye, appear to be about 25% of the population as you walk down the street in many cities (I believe Native Americans are somewhere around less than 1%). But this area of the Bay of Plenty is special though – it is actually Maori-owned land from a treaty over 150 years ago. No businesses can come in and buy land/put down shop. So, you can drive around one of the curviest roads you've been on in your life, going through mountains, with an endless sea stretching out to the north, and see nothing but lush vegetation, and the occasional farm with a sorry-looking horse. The road is so curvy that I had to buy this anti-puke-your-guts-out spray which seems to do the trick. Once Beau starts wheeling around the REALLY curvy parts, I begin my every-15-minutes *squirt squirt* into the back of my throat followed by a small groan. I haven't puked yet, though I've rolled down the window a few times in anticipation. Man, automatic windows go slow.

Anyway, as I may have previously mentioned, being a "tribal land" we are in a remote remote remote remote (i could type all day) area which makes for some interesting, and frustrating living. My days continue to consist of mad, passionate periods of cooking (I have become QUITE the baker after years of just using the stove top), lots of reading, lots of writing, lots of gardening, lots of TV, as much housecleaning as I can stomach, a bit of oil painting, and every day at 1pm, Dr. Phil. I've even found myself starting to get sucked into Starting Over, which was a show that I used to see as both ridiculous and pathetic, but I find myself watching it more and more and with less and less of an attitude. Great.

All of the above activities are so fantastic to do, since they're the kinds of things I always lament not having the time for when I'm a busy working girl, but it's beginning to get a bit...old now. Oh well, it's only going to get worse.

Oh, and I got a package from my mother today which had presents for all, a big box of Bisquick for Beau (for our deeply-loved biscuits and gravy), a giant box of SweetTarts for me as well as a groovy shirt from the Milwaukee Art Museum, and kitty crack for Sabina the cat, who would scratch my eyes out for the opportunity to eat that stuff on a regular basis (any of those wet cat foods that come in those metallic-looking pouches).