Wannaficatrubaya

World travel is not as exotic as it once was—an airport is an airport; a hotel is a hotel; a Starbucks is a Starbucks, etc.  There are some differences that stand out all the more in the sameness of the world.

New Zealand could be America, except for some obvious differences.  I’ve never been anywhere where cars drive on the left side of the road before.  I wasn’t prepared for how disorienting it can be.  Beginning in the van ride from the airport to the hotel, I feel like I’m in a film that’s been reversed, like when you take a negative and print it with the wrong side up.  (If you don’t know what a negative is, ask an older adult).  Not only is it curious, it can be dangerous.  Yesterday, I got a free bus pass from the hotel clerk to go downtown.  “The next bus comes in seven minutes, be sure you go that way,” she said, as she pointed to the right, "so catch the bus on the other side of the street."  “Oh, thanks,” I said, “I would have waited on the wrong side of the street.”  Getting to the bus stop, I realized I’d forgotten to bring my camera from the hotel room.  I ran across the first three lanes fine, but was looking the wrong way.  I nearly stepped right out in front of a couple of cars.  I’ve heard of people getting killed that way, and now I know why.  (Don’t worry, Ruth, I’ll be OK.)

We don't often realize that when we meet somone going the other way in a hallway, we tend to move to the right to avoid a collision.  While trying to pass a woman in a hotel corridor, I kept moving to my right and she kept moving to her left.  She was very persistent, as we stood facing each other at the wall, that that she was going to take that path, whether I had enough sense to move over, or not. 

In the gift shop, I saw a map of the world.  The South Pole and Antarctica are at the top--then New Zealand and Australia--then all of the other continents accordingly.  It's all in how you look at things.  By the way--the blood doesn't rush to our heads as we walk around down here.

With the language barrier, the Kiwi’s have an advantage.  They are exposed to American English every time they turn on the TV or watch a movie.  Like most of the world, they know more about what’s going on in American politics than a lot of Americans do.

“Wannaficatrubaya foyo peen,” said a man to me on the Qantas airplane, coming down here. 

“Pardon me?”  I said. 

Yo peen, yo peen!  (He makes a writing motion) 

“Oh, certainly!” said I, as I handed him my pen.

“Wouldya like some craked peepa w’tha?” says the waitress serving my fish and chips.

(I’m catching on now…long vowels and a few missing consonants)

“Cracked pepper?” yes, thank you.”

Speaking of fish chips, if you want some (potato) chips, ask for “crisps,” otherwise you’ll get something looking to us, like french-fries.

 

Places like Strarbucks can be found in buildings much older than we are used to