Kiwi Milk & Kiwi People

When I was looking at places to study abroad Dunedin was in my top five. When talking to my mother about this she was worried if I studied here I'd never want to leave. Now that I'm here, I see her point. That was, however, until I saw the price of milk. I wish I was kidding. I saw milk for almost $9 for 2 liters at a convenient store- I was actually going to take a picture but was loudly informed that I couldn't. I understand, I wouldn't want people to have proof of my outrageous prices either. (I should note that I have found milk for cheaper, but it's still wildly expensive.)

Despite their milk prices (I do realize I'm way too riled up about that) New Zealand has once again made me fall in love with it because of their people (who I've been told are much more water/juice drinkers who are also annoyed at the insane price of milk.)

On my walk the first day I came across a number of lovely churches. Sunday I decided to go to the one, The First Church of Otago, for a service. I figured I could just pop in and no one would notice. Within about two minutes of sitting down an older gentleman, Jeff, came and sat down in front of me. He told me he wanted to meet me before we got to meet each other during the service and I had a lovely little chat with him. He made sure I was well informed during the service about who everyone was and other little tidbits. The minister also noticed me and first thing asked me where I was from in front of the congregation. He even gave me a gift of a postcard (so much for sneaking in.) I soon realized how I had stood out, as I was by far the youngest person there who was not of Pacific decent. The congregation had a large number of Cook Island members. During the interactive portion of the service we were given cards and asked to form "families" of Cook Islanders, Samoans and Kiwis. (I was a Cook Island father.)

After the service I was personally invited to the tea/coffee get together and must have had 10-12 people come up to talk to me. Some just said hello, others gave me useful information (where free wifi was/ contact information for an interview), and one (Jeff) invited me to a concert that afternoon. I was about to go when the associate minister, Ann, came over to talk to me. She offered to drive me to the gardens where I was heading, and then instead invited me to lunch with her family. I happily accepted. They were funnily enough headed to an American themed restaurant, Filidelfios. I had a great time with her 17 year old daughter who soon after meeting me was quickly to point out american idiosyncraties such as our school year calendar, our use of farinheight, and our pledge of allegence. However, our contributions of pizza topping combinations seem to be good in her book, as she is an avid lover of Hawaiian pizza. At lunch I was told about another pizza topping combination that was supposing amazing: pineapple, ham, & canned spaghetti. (I'll take her word on it.) Ann's husband, Ian, a full time photographer (and part time surgeon) gave me his address for his photos. I've checked some of them out and they're really quite lovely. Since I've given him the address of my blog, I hope photography skills aren't judged too harshly!

I had such a wonderful time with them, they truly are a lovely family who welcomed me so whole heartedly. After lunch, we briefly walked through the botanical gardens and then they drove me to the Town Hall for the concert. I arrived exactly on time, and walked in to hear them sing the national anthem. (This was my second time doing so as I got a lovely redention in the car in case I was too late and missed it.) Both renditions included the lyrics sung in English and then in Māori.

The concert was wonderful. It would have been worth it only to see the look on Jeff's face when we saw me there and gave me a smile and a nod. He's part of The Royal Dunedin Male Choir, who not only sounds wonderful but are one of the most adorable choirs I've ever seen. (Jeff is in the back row, the one looking at the camera.)

They sang songs a few at a time with young musicians as "guest artists" doing interludes. I'd never heard a few of the songs, but heard new favorites such as "Portait of my Love." The gentleman introducing the songs was also wonderful. Right before his number they lost track of the 12 year old pianist who was performing. This was briefly explained and the presenter quickly filled the time telling a story with a singing component. Later, the chorus tittered and whooped when the young guest soprano gave the stage manager a kiss on the cheek about which he commented, "there are now going to be 65 applications for stage manager. Now speaking of beautiful young ladies our next piece is about exactly that."

I was truly shocked when I looked at my watch and saw it was a nearly 3 hour concert. As soon as it finished Jeff motioned to me to wait five minutes because they were going to take a picture. We talked until they shut the concert hall down about all sorts of things: the concert, his late wife, his childhood polio, and his travels. But first he made sure I had a place to stay, and that it was close enough for me to walk home.

Seriously, the people might make the milk prices worth it.

Mattie