CLC

Arcadia offers the option for its students to write a CLC, or co-curricular learning certificate. This is merely proof of my experience abroad that would be useful in future job interviews. Seeing as I only have 2 days left in this glorious country, I thought I would share my CLC with everyone.

Independence

A mere seven months ago, I rang my mom excitedly. "Guess what?" I asked her."I'm going to New Zealand! I had applied only a few weeks prior and decided to study abroad only a couple weeks before that. Everything happened so fast; my nursing major courses are hard to replicate elsewhere and many of my nursing classmates never have the opportunity to study in another country. I have, however, wanted to study abroad since I was twelve years old and I wasn't going to let the possibility of taking summer courses later ruin my dreams now.

As I started packing my bags in June, my nervousness set in. Was I really going to be living in another country, away from my family and friends for four and a half months? I haven't ever been apart for them for so long and have never been this far from home. Did I make the decision to leave too quickly? Should I really be doing this? But that's just silly. Why am I second-guessing this dream? My main fears, however, sprung from my life-long battle with being shy. What if I didn't make friends? Will I get along with my flat mates? The new level of independence I would need to survive in New Zealand terrified me.

When I arrived in Dunedin, I had to become independent immediately. Never before had I needed to figure out so many things on my own: where to buy groceries or clothes or shampoo, where to pay for my linen pack, how to stay warm in the freezing, non-insulated flat, how to open a bank account. I would have to, for the first time, cook for myself every day. For about a week I remained terrified. I felt small and lonely.

A few weeks after moving in, I received letters of support from home, full of love and words of encouragement and, most importantly, recipes. Cooking became easy and even enjoyable. I've made myself some dishes I maybe never would have attempted before and know that I can always just eat some Cadbury chocolate if it doesn't turn out.

One of my flat mates and I worked out a routine; he cooks and I clean about five times a week. We shop together every Wednesday and share the cost of a taxi home when we need to buy potatoes. Over the course of the semester, my confidence and self-help skills continued to blossom. I figured out what to do when I locked myself out of my room. Twice. I managed to take the bus and get off at the right stop. I planned a trip to Milford Sound, found my favorite study spots in the library, and was able to get a hold of a violin to play for the semester and found a trio with which to perform.I took bone carving, flax weaving, and paua jewelry classes with Kiwis and other international students. I leaned about New Zealand, its culture and its people.

Suddenly, my fears disappeared. Dunedin began to feel comfortable, like a real home, and I realized that I have become an independent woman like I never was before. My new-found independence is enlightening, invigorating, and empowering. I have a faith in myself that, before living in New Zealand, I had a hard time finding. I'm confident that I can make the most out of any situation, occupy myself, study hard, and make friends. Now that I have been forced to figure out life on my own, apart from all of the people I love, I know that life at home will be different. No longer will I feel the need to run my plans by someone before I do them; it's up to me to live my life the way I want to. I will no longer be defined by what others think but rather by who I want to be.

Finals

I had my first New Zealand final last Thursday. It was for my Maori Studies - The Treaty of Waitangi class and was open note. I was able to prepare outlines for each of the four essays ahead of time and only had to produce the words on a new piece of paper. Piece of cake.

Tomorrow I have my Australia and New Zealand History final. It, too, should be pretty easy, even though it's not open note. I spent a chunk of my afternoon studying in the sun by the Leith River on campus. A friendly duck came over looking for some food in my Minnesota Twins bag. Sorry, buddy, it's empty.

My final final is on Thursday. Then it's flat inspection, a walk on the peninsula with a couple of friends, a trio performance, packing, and a 25 hour trip home. Time has flown.

Sunshine!

Winter is officially over; finally.

The last few days have been glorious - the sun is shining, the clouds are few and far between. This afternoon, I spent an hour and a half laying in the sun, studying and enjoying a novel in my tee shirt and skirt. Unfortunately, I got a little red. I'll take it, though. In a week and a half I'm heading back to cold Minnesota...

Collegiate Orchestra

A couple of weeks ago, the violin instructor at the Uni asked if I would be interested in performing with the Collegiate Orchestra on Saturday. Of course I agreed. The orchestra was tiny - the three newly-recruited violinists brought the total of first violins to five. Oh well, playing was the important thing.

On Saturday evening, after my day surfing the waves, I walked to St. Paul's Cathedral in the Octagon and found out that the director wanted me to sit as concertmaster. I had only been to two rehearsals and missed the Saturday afternoon rehearsal, but he insisted. I made plenty of mistakes, but overall the concert went pretty well.

Catch a Wave!

One of the Arcadia NZ programs every semester is a surf lesson. Before I even came to New Zealand, I was so excited. I've always wanted to give surfing a shot, even if I was terrible at it. The lesson was originally scheduled for a couple of weeks ago, but we had rain and big waves so it was postponed until today. It could not have been a nicer day to spend out in the sea. The sun was shining and the wind was calm, absolutely perfect conditions.

We were told to meet outside of the Farmers Department Store to catch the city bus to the beach. Only 2 of us turned up, though, along with Helen, who is employed by Arcadia to help out with all of the students. She ended up driving us instead. On the way, we picked up another student who misunderstood the information and was waiting at the train station where the farmers' market was set up. . .

More students met us at St. Clair beach where we were suited up with wetsuits. It was the first time I have ever worn one. (They are amazing! I could hardly feel the cold water.) My arms were a bit too short to carry my pink surf board the "correct" way for very long, so I balanced it on top of my head instead and made my way down the beach. We were split into two groups and given a few instructions on the basics of surfing.

We all laid our boards in a semi-circle and pretended to paddle. Then, we were told to jump up in one fluid motion, landing with our feet a bit further than shoulder length apart, on the back half of the board, with our front foot turned out. Believe me, this is much easier said than done. I almost always landed incorrectly, and it was never a fluid motion.

Oh well. We headed out to attempt to catch our first waves. Making my way out to sea was pretty challenging; for every step I took forward, the incoming waves pushed me back another two. Once I finally made it out to about my torso, I was able to catch a few waves. Timing the waves wasn't hard at all - the difficult part was standing up.

Most of the time, I would make it to my knees and then slip off my board. A couple times I swirled around in the waves for a few seconds before resurfacing. The instructors gave me good tips on how to try and stand, and eventually I did it! Twice! I stood on my moving surf board twice! I'm so proud.

We spent about two hours or a little less in the water, but it went by quickly. I kept trying again and again, and I didn't even get frustrated when I couldn't get up. By the end, though, I was exhausted. Carrying the board, fighting the waves, and using my arms to paddle and then force myself up was hard work.

Today was one of my favorite in Dunedin. I can't wait to try surfing again.

Antal Szalai and his Gypsy Band

Last night, I went to a performance at the Regent Theatre in the Octagon. It was Antal Szalai and his Gypsy Band, a show I heard about while Dad was here and I was really interested in seeing it. I got my ticket only one day before, but my seat was seven rows back and had a great view.

The group is led by Antal Szalai, a gypsy violinist. He is amazing. Despite his not-so-perfect technique, his sound is phenomenal and precise. His band consists of a clarinetist/panflutist, a violist, bassist, and a man who played the cimbalom. Perhaps easiest described as a hammered dulcimer, the cimbalom has something like 139 strings and is played with mallets. It sounded to me a bit like a harpsichord. The musician played incredibly fast. For one number, they even blindfolded him and he continued to play accurately.

I decided during intermission to buy a CD. That meant, though, that I would have to take the bus home instead of the taxi. I was okay with that, since I had been thinking of taking the bus home anyway. When the concert let out, I waited around for a while at the bus stop. I waited, and waited, but no bus came. Thursday nights are big party nights in Dunedin, and the Octagon has lots of bars, so I was a bit nervous just standing around waiting. I made the decision that, if I were going to be standing around for a while anyway, I may as well start walking home.

In order to not target myself as a young woman walking alone at night, I took out my cell phone and pretended to have a conversation the whole way home. At first it felt stupid, but it was kind of comforting nonetheless. I made it home safely and, when I got there, I put my new CD on iTunes.

Hair Cut

Last week, Mom asked if it was time for me to get a haircut. I replied with a "No, I want to keep growing my hair, thank you very much." (Well, that's not exactly what I said, but that's what I was thinking.) But then I started evaluating my hair. It hasn't been cut since early June, and I thought it was doing fine, but I noticed that the ends were, in fact, dry. So yesterday when I was walking around I saw a sign for $25 hair cuts and decided that I'd just get it done.

Boy am I glad I did. It only took about 15 minutes for the lady to wash, cut, and dry my hair. It feels so much lighter and fresh, and it doesn't even look shorter. Thanks for the suggestion, Mom.