Every time I think to myself, "Hm, looks like Thursday will be a good evening for sitting down and blogging up a storm," something always comes up.
Not that that's a bad thing, but I'd love to share more with you all about the people I'm working with and the things I'm doing. And by not taking the time to update this blog regularly I've allowed a jumble of incoherent storylines and post ideas to crowd up my head. I guess the best way for me to get them all out may be to do some brief profiles on the people here, and I'll share some anecdotes for each one as well.
I'll start with a brief overview of the staff as I know it. The River Valley Lodge has been around for generations, though it's expanded greatly in the last 30 years. It's a family business, and currently there are 5 generation of the family still around. The eldest member I've met is Fatdad, whose real name is Brian. Fatdad and Mam, his wife, live up on top of the gorge over the lodge, and regularly walk down to say hi or drive out a bus full of raft folks. Their daughter Nicola runs the horse trekking program here, while her husband Brian oversees the lodge operation. Their daughter Janey runs a lot of the day to day activities, and works closely with Janelle and Morgan in reception. Janey and her fiancé Tom have two young daughters who run around the lodge during the day whenever they're not up at daycare with Mam and Fatdad. Tom is a raft guide, along with Spencer and Daniel. Miranda is the chef, who fixes up amazing meals on a daily basis, and has me about 10 lbs heavier now than when I showed up. Lastly is Georgie, the housekeeper extraordinaire, and who I've been working most closely with in my time here. Other people I've met around here are Tomo, who lives with Daniel and works nearby, and Richie, who lives with Spencer and works on the farmland up above the gorge.
So that's the rundown. I'll go more in-depth on a few people as they pop into my head.
Brian:
I have to start with Brian, because ultimately River Valley is his show. Brian is a tall man, about 50 years old, and he wears a very gruff demeanor. When his blue pickup truck rolls down the hill every day around 11, raft guides and workers scatter to find something, anything, to be busy with when Brian walks by. Brian knows every task and project going on at the Lodge, and is a fan of progress reports, and, well, progress. If he thinks you should be doing something, he lets you now in as few words as possible.
Brian asked me on one of my first days here to work on the walking track out back, the one that leads to my favorite waterfall. He wanted me to work on the surface of the track by spreading crushed glass (the Lodge's way of recycling glass bottles) along the path. Also, he wanted me to put in additional wood steps, and make sure the rope was up to snuff on the steep bit, and if not, replace it. That's about all the discussion that was involved. He pointed me in the direction of the glass pile, the lumber pile, and the tool shed. From there, it's on me to figure out how to do everything and what to use. I like that.
The benefit of working on the trail is taking breaks at the end
Despite his serious work attitude, Brian has a heart of gold, and several of the lodge staff have described him to me as the best boss they've ever had. He's light-hearted whenever he can be, and there is no one more fit to lead this band of strange personalities and always get the best out of them.
Tom:
"What are you doing this afternoon?"
"Probably chores. I've got a few loads of laundry to do still."
"Eh. Want to go kill a pig?"
*pause*
"Sure, why not?"
That's the conversation I had with Tom last Saturday in the early afternoon. He had just brought down a keg of his newest home-brewed beer, and was letting a few of us try it out. It was probably the best beer I've had since I left California, and reminded me a lot of Ballast Point Sculpin, one of my favorites. After a couple glasses he sprung the "Wanna kill a pig?" question on me, and think it's fair that I was caught a little off guard. Of course, with the spirit of the trip in mind, I agreed. A few more beers and we were off.
It was a cold and blustery day up above the gorge, which Tom and several other people described as "Not great pig-killing weather." I didn't know there was such a thing as good pig-killing weather, but I'm led to believe it exists. We were joined for the afternoon by Tom's neighbor John, who's a farmer as well. There's a lot that goes in to killing a pig, and it includes a lot of knife sharpening, a bathtub, and a gun. I'll leave out the details from here out of consideration for my younger or more squeamish readers; anyone who wants the full story can hear it when I'm back. Suffice to say, I felt very far from my normal life that day, in an interesting but kind of wonderful way.
Also, I figure if I'm going to enjoy pork and bacon, I'd better be able to stomach where they come from. On a side note, bacon from the pig I helped kill should be coming back this week and Tom's promised to let me try some.
Tom's a good raft guide, and a cool guy to have a few drinks with. He's one of the only people I've found on this island who likes their beer as hoppy as I do. He's a big sports fan as well, and I've enjoyed explaining to him a lot of the rules to football (which they helpfully call gridiron to avoid confusion with soccer). One of the hardest bits for Kiwis to understand about football is that there are entirely different teams for offense and defense. Still working on that one, but we may stream some Monday or Tuesday NFL action around here so I can give a crash course.
On a final note, Tom and Brian were the two biggest fans of Emirates Team New Zealand in the Americas Cup. When I showed up here, Oracle Team USA was down 8-1 and it was mostly playful teasing about such a big country getting dominated by a small but prideful nation. At about 8-3, one of them mentioned that I wouldn't want to be around here if there was some sort of miracle and Team USA came back. I commented that if something like that happened the only sign of my presence here would be a cloud of dust receding up the hill away from the lodge. At about 8-5 Brian stopped talking to me about the races, and I avoided the two of them whenever possible in the mornings. 8-6, and Brian stopped talking to me altogether, while Tom was mostly venting about how he was absolutely certain Team USA was going to win it now. 8-8, I didn't say a word, and neither did they. I very seriously contemplated packing my bag though. 9-8, and I still haven't mentioned it to either of them. Likewise, neither of them have broached the subject with me. I get the feeling this is the way things are going to stay.
That's all for this update. I've got plenty more to write, and hopefully I can find the time to fit it all in while the memories are fresh. I'll likely be leaving River Valley this Thursday headed toward Wellington, and I should have more time for updates then.
Cheers, and I hope you all are well back home.
Jared
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