When I decided to study abroad in an English speaking country, some people looked at it as the cheap way out of the country. It wasn't so much a semester in another country, more like Road Rules: New Zealand. Well, after more than 5 weeks here, I've come to the conclusion that New Zealand is the Bill Paxton to America's Bill Pullman. On the exterior they may look incredibly alike, but when you look closelier, you find that they're as different as Independence Day and U-571.
Firstly, New Zealand is a lot more laid back than the hustle (e.g. bustle) of the USA. People walk a little bit slower and take their time to get to work. Classes normally start 5 minutes after the posted time. Downtown Auckland is comparable to Old Town Pasadena. It's the nice, relaxed ambiance you'd find in small town America...or a medicinal marijuana clinic.
They drive on the wrong side of the road down here. I really have no idea what the benefit is to having the driver's seat on the right. You figure that the majority of people in the world are right handed, so most cars should have the gear switch on the right hand side. Doesn't make sense. But I'm sure that when I get back home, I'm going to get into the passenger seat at least 10 times before I remember that the steering wheel's on the other side. I probably won't be the safest driver during those first couple of weeks. Then again, I'm pretty dangerous behind the wheel after playing Grant Theft Auto. So maybe I'll take a T.O. on driving a car until a month has passed.
AXE brand deodorant is called LYNX down here. I've yet to make up my mind about the name change. Lynx sounds fierce and primal. But the mention of a cat in the name is enough to bring back memories of Sex Panther.
And people also speak a little softer and slower than I'm used to. Or it could be that I'm slowly going deaf from blasting the Stereophonics on my in-ear iPod headphones. Either way, I occasionally need a translator for the dialect that they speak down here.
There's that awesome (and quite frankly, dead sexy) Kiwi accent that'll throw you off. Mainly, it's because the vowel sound "eh" is replaced with "ee." For example, the sentence "Next semester I will text message you about your perspective" reads in Kiwi as such:
Nee-xt sem-ee-ster, I will tee-xt mee-sage you about your per-speec-tive.
Yep. Totally hot.
They've also got some interesting vocabulary down here. Flip flops are "jandals," swim trunks are "togs," elevators are "lifts," and imported beer is "nine dollars."
While we may be separated by that thick accent, it has oddly given me higher self esteem.
Let's backtrack: I'm not a big fan of my voice. You know how the voice that comes out of your mouth never sounds the same as it does in your head? When I realized that I nearly iced myself. I hear voice as having a suave, George Clooney TV-voice over kind of quality to it. You know, one of those voices that could make penguin migration sound cool. But I can't. That's why I try to say as little as possible and hope that telepathy will make a come back.
When compared to the sweet Kiwi accent, my voice sounds even more like Woody Allen. Even the kids have that awesome speech pattern.
But when I spoke up the first day in my Shakespeare class, every single head in the room turned around. Every time I said a word, people started looking at me. Part of it is because I'm so damn pretty. That's a given. But soon, I realized what had just happened: Now, I'M the one with the accent: the elusive "Yankee Accent." I'm finally the exotic one about whom the girls giggle. It's pretty damn fun being the only guy in your class without an accent...or with one if you want to be all relativistic about it. Every day in class is like when Charlton Heston was being examined by Dr. Zaius and those other damn dirty apes. And it's always cool to be Chuck Heston. Being the Omega Man never goes out of style.
So for those of you who didn't think that I'd be getting a cultural education in New Zealand, I'm waiting for your apologies. Because it's a lot easier to get to the core of your society when you share a common language. And when you're in a foreign speaking country, it's always easy to blame the guy who doesn't speak English. Oh, Tibor. How many times you've saved my butt!
-MGD
That's what she said of the day:
(re: my backpack)
Allow me to unzip that for you.
Firstly, New Zealand is a lot more laid back than the hustle (e.g. bustle) of the USA. People walk a little bit slower and take their time to get to work. Classes normally start 5 minutes after the posted time. Downtown Auckland is comparable to Old Town Pasadena. It's the nice, relaxed ambiance you'd find in small town America...or a medicinal marijuana clinic.
They drive on the wrong side of the road down here. I really have no idea what the benefit is to having the driver's seat on the right. You figure that the majority of people in the world are right handed, so most cars should have the gear switch on the right hand side. Doesn't make sense. But I'm sure that when I get back home, I'm going to get into the passenger seat at least 10 times before I remember that the steering wheel's on the other side. I probably won't be the safest driver during those first couple of weeks. Then again, I'm pretty dangerous behind the wheel after playing Grant Theft Auto. So maybe I'll take a T.O. on driving a car until a month has passed.
AXE brand deodorant is called LYNX down here. I've yet to make up my mind about the name change. Lynx sounds fierce and primal. But the mention of a cat in the name is enough to bring back memories of Sex Panther.
And people also speak a little softer and slower than I'm used to. Or it could be that I'm slowly going deaf from blasting the Stereophonics on my in-ear iPod headphones. Either way, I occasionally need a translator for the dialect that they speak down here.
There's that awesome (and quite frankly, dead sexy) Kiwi accent that'll throw you off. Mainly, it's because the vowel sound "eh" is replaced with "ee." For example, the sentence "Next semester I will text message you about your perspective" reads in Kiwi as such:
Nee-xt sem-ee-ster, I will tee-xt mee-sage you about your per-speec-tive.
Yep. Totally hot.
They've also got some interesting vocabulary down here. Flip flops are "jandals," swim trunks are "togs," elevators are "lifts," and imported beer is "nine dollars."
While we may be separated by that thick accent, it has oddly given me higher self esteem.
Let's backtrack: I'm not a big fan of my voice. You know how the voice that comes out of your mouth never sounds the same as it does in your head? When I realized that I nearly iced myself. I hear voice as having a suave, George Clooney TV-voice over kind of quality to it. You know, one of those voices that could make penguin migration sound cool. But I can't. That's why I try to say as little as possible and hope that telepathy will make a come back.
When compared to the sweet Kiwi accent, my voice sounds even more like Woody Allen. Even the kids have that awesome speech pattern.
But when I spoke up the first day in my Shakespeare class, every single head in the room turned around. Every time I said a word, people started looking at me. Part of it is because I'm so damn pretty. That's a given. But soon, I realized what had just happened: Now, I'M the one with the accent: the elusive "Yankee Accent." I'm finally the exotic one about whom the girls giggle. It's pretty damn fun being the only guy in your class without an accent...or with one if you want to be all relativistic about it. Every day in class is like when Charlton Heston was being examined by Dr. Zaius and those other damn dirty apes. And it's always cool to be Chuck Heston. Being the Omega Man never goes out of style.
So for those of you who didn't think that I'd be getting a cultural education in New Zealand, I'm waiting for your apologies. Because it's a lot easier to get to the core of your society when you share a common language. And when you're in a foreign speaking country, it's always easy to blame the guy who doesn't speak English. Oh, Tibor. How many times you've saved my butt!
-MGD
That's what she said of the day:
(re: my backpack)
Allow me to unzip that for you.
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