Random photos

I have been sorting out my photos from all the places they're stored so I can make sure I don't lose any. I've come across some great memories. I have added a couple of photos I took when out on my bike. One is from a tunnel on the Otago Rail Trail and the other the joy of mountain biking in the southern hills.

The photographer also had to ride the rail trail and bike up the very long and steep hill to get the photos. Note the snow, it was in the low 30s that day. Tim and Sarah are off racing in the North Island, this one was from a race Tim won last year.

A very minor dilemma

Today promises to be a good one, hot and sunny, over 30C. Looking at Di's blog and the extreme weather in northern Europe on the news last night, I'm pleased to be in this hemisphere. A friend tells me that it's even cold in Doha, 16C with a freezing wind. Believe me that's cold and miserable, enough to make you hibernate. That wind comes straight off Iran, off those snowy hills a bit bigger than the Southern Alps.

It was like that when we arrived in Doha about this time of year, rain, mud, cold. Very unexpected. Luckily my friend in Doha has one of the warm red blankets we used so often in the first few months to survive the chills. I am hoping that by the time I arrive in early February, it will have warmed some. I have packed a merino or two just in case.

But today in Christchurch it's early, already in the high 20's and I'm heading to work. I've been up since the small hours with an upset tum, not so good. It could be that I ate too much off the barby last night, could be that I am feeling a bit stressed with all the changes in my life. Packing is unsettling, especially as I am packing all my things not just what I'm taking.

I've thrown out heaps, donated books, resources and clothes to friends and the City Mission. Next on the list are my shoes. I'm taking my time with these, wearing each pair lovingly and making a decision to take or keep or biff or donate. This will take some time given the stacks of shoes in my wardrobe, on the floor in my bedroom, the living room, the hall way, the stairs, the laundry. OK, so I'm a little messy and sometimes leave them where I take them off.

You see I love shoes, my only girly vice. I love coloured and patterned and black shoes. I love very high heels and flats and in between shoes. I love peep toes, sandals, strappy numbers, boots, shoes with sequins, shoes with pointy toes, my running shoes, my walking sandals. I have shoes for every outfit plus extras just in case.

I write a little later. I tried the work thing but my tum didn't get any better so I came home. After resting and reading for a bit I thought I'd finish this entry, yep that's dedication for you.

I decided that taking a photo of said shoes, that is the ones who were close by and available, might be best to make my point. Not the most artistic of photos, but see my dilemma? I am leaving the woolly slippers, the others I am sifting through. Yes Lyn, I did bring my blue Billies home with me despite promising I'd put them down the rubbish chute. Just couldn't bring myself to somehow......

Gaza

I have not written about what's happening in Gaza for two reasons. The first is that I feel ill informed. Because of this I have read as much as I can about the situation. Blogs give a personalised view, especially when they link to others with family in Gaza, with real life experiences of what it feels like to be on the receiving end of war. The western news bulletins are often sensationalised, unbalanced.

I know of the history of that part of the world but mostly from the Israeli side. That's what I was taught at school. I was ignorant of Islam and of Muslim peoples until I observed their way of life when I went to Turkey and stayed with Di. I engaged more when I lived and worked in a Muslim country earlier this year.

Since my experiences in Qatar, I have advocated for the Muslims who are family oriented and peaceful people. People who made me welcome and gave me their friendship. Others have asked me: "What was it like?" Well, it was like being a part of a large family. Like with Christians there are Muslim fundamentalists, probably in equal numbers.

When I see the atrocities of Gaza I see the personal face not the face of multitudes. I see the faces of my Muslim friends, the children I worked with in the schools, the familes I watched playing with their children in the parks, the large family groups picnicking and laughing.

Which brings me to the other reason I haven't blogged about Gaza. Every time I think about it, read about it, see the footage, I feel a grief that takes over, anger at the stupidity of men who fight without thought for the civilians, the women and children, anger at the lack of value placed on the lives of those killed. I have always wondered why some peoples lives are worth less than others. This anomaly has occurred throughout history, usually with the Caucasian peoples lives having more value than those of darker skin tones, those who are not Christians.

Are the lives of 635 Palestinians equal to the lives of 5 Israelis, only one of whom was a soldier? I think not.

Di's blog is excellent. She is extremely well informed on the Gaza situation, well travelled and has links to others from Gaza. Check it out.

Once

Once is a simple movie I enjoyed in Qatar. Having no TV and a ready supply of movies meant that I watched a few on my computer, not ideal for a music movie with the poor sound quality. Once got passed around the group and was enjoyed by all who watched it. The soundtrack, some of which I already had on my ipod, is wonderful. Listening now brings back some good memories.

My copy was in the box that went missing so I'd not seen the movie since. I was at the airport dropping of Nick and Court and I saw Once for sale, couldn't resist. I watched it tonight on a decent sized screen with good sound, yep still a great movie. Enjoy the trailer.

More photos

We went to the beach early this morning. While Nick surfed and Courtney went for a run, I took these photos. I took more, mostly close ups of surfers from the cliff track. Not very successfully. 

Taylor's Mistake is a lovely spot, one of the few enclosed bays that have surf on the eastern side of Banks Peninsular. There were plenty of people out, as one of the photos shows. It was also freezing cold after the storms of last night. 

It was a wild night with high winds cutting the power in many places and heavy rain. The storm went up the coast, increasing the swells from the past few day. This also meant there was lots of kelp to compete with in the water, not pleasant to have slimy seaweed rub against your leg in murky water. 

A quick trip

Well, the kids are back. No more peace and quiet, thankfully. Nick even brought back most of my my beer. They camped at Te Anau in the rain; visited Milford and went on the obligatory cruise in the fiord's, also in the rain; braved new years in Te Anau, enjoying pizza and the fireworks; drove though the Haast Pass to Makaawhio (Bruce Bay) to join the reunion at the marae, only to find no one had arrived as yet; drove up the coast to Fox Glacier; then on to Hokitika and back to Christchurch. Quite a drive in my little red car, the smallest and fastest on the road apparently. Of course it didn't miss a beat. 

They had a good time, really liked Te Anau and South Westland. I am a little afraid of the bills that might just arrive when they have headed back to Auckland. Apparently the traffic officer laughed as my little red car shot past a large Ford Falcon doing a little over 100 kms/hour. I am unconvinced he was laughing that a Peugeot 106 XSI could pass a Falcon as Nick assured me. I think he was more likely laughing because he had made his daily quota so early in the day and could go home. Gotta love hand held speed cameras, we shall see. 

My camera also went on this hikoi and there are many photos of their adventures. I have included some here. Nick and Court's planning meeting; Milford Sound in the brooding wet; waterfalls; Haast Pass; Roaring Billy Falls; and Fox Glacier. 

The sea

Yesterday I went swimming at Taylor's Mistake. It was freezing and I very nearly bottled out on a proper swim. I'm so pleased I didn't. The sea is a soul place for me, a place to regenerate myself, even when my toes go numb and I start to shiver. My last sea swim was in the Medit in the south of France. That was slightly warmer, refreshing but not breathtakingly cold like yesterday. The waves were a lot smaller too.

I spent my formative years living near the sea, being able to swim and surf and lie in the sun all summer long and surf through the winter with a wet suit. I can't ever remember getting sick, not a cold, no days off school for illness. I did take days off school when the surf was up, missed the bus or better still the connecting bus where we were out of adult range. We jumped back on the bus in the afternoon, complete with crumpled uniforms and lunch eaten. I'm sure someone knew where we were, it was a small place afterall.

When ever I go swimming in the sea, those feelings of being a kid diving through the waves come flooding back. I look longingly at those surfing, I gave that up many years ago, having to grow up quickly. Surfing is freedom, time to empty your mind as you watch the swells and wait for the perfect wave. Time to pit yourself against the forces of nature.

Some times you win and feel the exhilaration of racing along with this awesome force until it spits you off. More often you lose, crashing and tumbling through the wash not knowing which way is up. The worst is when your leg rope gives way and you have no ballast to pull you to the surface, nothing to cling to as you get your breath back and check you are still in one piece.

Swimming yesterday, diving through the waves, the breathtakingly cold waves, gave me some respite from planning, packing and family and juggling all the balls I have in the air at the moment. A soul place, a place of freedom.