Note To Future Self

After a little over 24 hours in airports, we’re here. Well, the first five-ish hours were our own fault, believing we could drop off luggage for an international flight early (see below). Our two flights and customs stop in Auckland were uneventful. Duane (Anna’s new boss) met us at the airport, took us out to lunch and dropped us off at a hotel. Now all we need to do is to get Netbank to finish #$%$# wiring our #@$%$# money to us so we can rent an apartment.

For now, though, nap time.

I’m sitting at SFO, waiting for Air New Zealand check-into open. We thought we had it all figured out… we’d come by SFO early today, unload our checked luggage then spend a healthy chunk of Sunday just hanging out somewhere in South San Fran. One small hitch is that Air New Zealand only operates one flight a day, so their counter doesn’t even open till 5:30PM. So we get four hours of babysitting our luggage at the airport, then checkin, then three hours of waiting for the flight, then 12 hours in the air, then customs, then another flight.

Honestly, I should be glad for the rest. The last couple of days have been a whirlwind of packing checked luggage (final tally: two suitcases, two backpacking packs, and two boxed bikes, plus carry-ons) and apartment cleaning. I don’t know why I feel so guilty about our stuff ballooning out to a third piece each (we had initially, foolishly, hoped we’d get by with one bike & one giant suitcase apiece). Something about the consumerist American hoarding all of his precious, precious goods.

We wrapped up our lease in Soquel yesterday, as well. We’re unbelievably indebted to Anna’s folks for the food, encouragement and help with the apartment cleaning.

We’ll hit the ground in Christchurch at 10AM local time on Tuesday (which will be, uh, mid-afternoon Monday on the west coast). At this point I’m mostly tired and anxious about all of the little details of getting the NZ, making sure we actually have money to spend, not to mention the worries about finding an apartment and car. All in good time. First we have to get ourselves there with all of our luggage, and our minds, intact.

Packing up your whole life into little cardboard boxes is no fun at all. Doing so while trying to minimize your precious, precious $15/cu ft cargo space is even less fun.

I’m beset by this overwhelming desire to let the moving company do everything (no, I admit I don’t view myself as a moving company kind of person, though give me a few more moves and I may change my mind). In this case a moving company is really critical for coordinating the sea leg and all of the customs. However I’m also filled with an anxiety that they’re going to pack each individual teacup in its own box, inflating our moving expenses.

But now it’s over and I can worry about how to fit just … a few … more … things in my 50lb airline suitcase allotment. Or how we’re going to mail the last 20 lbs of stuff to ourselves because it won’t fit in our luggage.

One minute your father-in-law is cramming your clothes into cardboard boxes

and the next you’re sitting on lawn chairs in your own living room

Yes, we really do expect to take the whole pile of stuff with us on the plane. And two bikes. Ha ha.

We’re freshly back from ten days in Hawaii soaking up the sun, seeing family and lying around the hotel room, sick as dogs. We spent three full days (and a couple of nice evening/mornings) on Maui, tromping grumpily through the tourist mainstream, but loving the beauty of the island. We both fought with some sort of stomach bug, which put a damper on our enthusiasm for living, let alone browsing expensive art galleries and overpriced “local” food.

We followed up with five-ish days on Oahu with Grandma Wong, my folks, and my aunt, cousin, and cousin’s son from San Diego. Mom had managed to plan family gatherings with both my grandmother’s and grandfather’s sides of the family. Here’s a picture of my great-aunts pigging out Hawaiian style:

And here’s Auntie Anna entertaining Quentin, my cousin’s son (cousin once removed?)

Overall, I really do love going to Hawaii, but in the end I enjoy the family time and the peaceful act of just being there with no commitments more than the tourist hustle. On the other hand I think were we to live there, I’d get too wrapped up in the day-to-day (what’s for dinner? what are we doing this weekend?) and lose sight of the surrounding beauty. Given the tension on the roads and the increasing frequency of road rage and pedestrian violence I wonder if forgetting the Aloha spirit in the grind of the modern world has become the norm.

While we were gone, the NZ Consulate processed our visas and returned our passports (our FBI records arrived a day before we left for Hawaii), so we’re (hellelujah!) legal on that front. In a quiet moment Anna also finished up her research and commited us to a mover. Come next Tuesday we’ll see how big of a mess we’ve gotten ourselves into.

Now we have about 9 days to wrap up all of our US business, clean, and pack all of our belongings and bags to live out of for the next two months. I keep thinking of the word “Herculean” for some reason.