Exploration

“Wanna ride some bikes?” Tyson asked with a tilted head and the accompanying smirk. It was 10 pm on Friday., cold as any mid-October evening in Chicago. I had ingested a couple drinks.

“You wanna ride bikes man? Yeah, lets ride.” I answered.

We sailed down the streets. It was dark, cold, and slightly foggy. My hands were freezing as we made our way into a park, lights sparsely distributed along the black path.

I rediscovered something in that park. Its hard to say what, but I can describe the feeling. Ive been worried about impending doom for too long. What if I don’t find ? What if I get lost? What if I fall? When will the economy fail? What will social unrest be like? What if What if What if. Death. Death. Dead.

I smiled. There was no what if. There was the moment. I felt the wind through my hair and the fatigue of my legs. I saw the lights, blurred by the fog, pass by and reappear. I appreciated it all. It turns out that if I simply choose to appreciate each moment: the smell, the cold, the lights, each moment is pretty awesome.

We rode again Saturday night, this time to have dinner with an older woman Tyson had met during his Celta course.

Her name was Marilyn and she was mighty energetic. She bounced from one subject to the next faster than a positively charged subatomic particle. Money troubles, problem 17 year olds, you name it, she covered it 3 minutes ago. You just were not paying enough attention.

Her husband, a jolly old man by the name of Steven, seemed to be her polar opposite. He talked slowly in a very calm and collected tone. Marilyn contrasted him not only in speed, but with a shrill voice. We ate and began having some after dinner tea when an atomic bomb of conversation began.

Steven expressed his great admiration of America and I, attempting to be a gracious guest, bit my tongue as long as I could. Eventually though, my principles conquered my social norm habits, as is usual practice.

I recall saying “There would be no Mcdonalds in France if the French were not eating their cheeseburgers.”

Eventually Steven, Tyson and I were involved in some sort of philosophical political debate. I still bit my tongue at points as my views were very contrarian but overall it was a good discussion. Marilyn was obviously feeling left out at points. Every time I looked in her direction she snagged me into some sort of short discussion. As nice and hospitable as she was, I couldn’t help but immediately try to sneak back into the other conversation.

Sunday, we moved. I am now officially living in Christchurch with my own digs. Its cozy but it works. Tyson is giving me some much needed cooking knowledge. We are beginning to watch Battlestar Galactica. I am starting to look for part time café work.

While the main part of my adventure is probably 2 months away, a major step has been taken. I am separating myself from things I could not seem to shed at home. We have no cable. No Adult Swim. I have no car. No xbox 360. I have less time on the internet. I am glad.

I am leveling up, you see. Everyone knows you cant level up by staying in the same dungeon forever.

Cheers.

Over the giant pond

I made it. I made it through 3 flights, one 4 hour, one 13 hour, and the last piddle of an hour one. It was a trip, both figuratively and literally. Somewhere along the line I lost all concept of time. I had left home at at 5:10 pm Wednesday. I arrived at my final destination at 8 am Friday. It was still Thursday at home.

Good luck trying to make sense of it, especially when on the plane.

The last flight was the killer. I had to drag myself onto that thing. After conquering a 13 hour journey, just having to board another beast was brought fatigue.

Despite my initial grumpiness, the last hour gave me an adrenaline burst. The windows did not hold the infinite black ocean or just clouds any longer.

Mountains. Mountains the whole ride, cutting through the top of the clouds with jagged peaks. I couldnt help but lean over the dude next to me the entire way. I grew up a Midwestern kid. This was on the level of the hobbits seeing minas tirith after knowing nothing but the shire.I had never seen anything like it.

I was picked up by some of Tyson's flatmates and being a typical American, attempted to enter the car on the driver's side (right side) and then commented about how odd it would be to drive on the left side of the road. I passed out upon arrival.

The next thing I heard was Tyson's laugh. We reunited. I missed him quite a bit and its just great to hear his excited laughter and poodle talk once more. Already I have heard "Whats with you and poodles?" in an Australian accent. I could only smile.

Speaking of which, part of the reason I chose New Zealand for my first out of US experience was the fact they spoke English as well. And while its true they speak it, there is still a daily struggle to understand what they hell anyone is talking about.

New Zealand-isms so far:
Pissed = Drunk - yeah...that got confusing. "Why were you pissed? At who? You were ALL pissed?"
How are you going? = How are you doing?
Cheers = Good bye or Thank you. I havent determined if its both or what yet.
Z is not pronounced Zee but rather "Zed"
Fuckall = jack shit

Tyson and I have been busy looking at flats in Christchurch, where the first few months of my NZ journey will be spent. Its a gorgeous, quaint city complete with trolleys and cafes galore. The park is larger than all Chicago parks combined and many times more beautiful. Pictures will be posted when we move in, probably later this week.

Its winter here, but it feels like fall to me. Ive dealt with Chicago winters, this is really fuckall. In Tyson's current flat we make a fire in a woodburning stove at night. I had my first experience chopping wood with an axe. Its as satisfying as it sounds.

The first few months will spent with weekend trips and possibly a part time job in Christchurch, getting acclimated to the country and hopefully making a few friends. I am considering buying a van for when I leave CC and begin to tour the country. We shall see.

Asheron Called Me

In early high school, I was known to be slightly or moderately or excessively into a video game known as Asheron's Call. I had answered his call as if he had filled the game's soundtrack with the siren's song.

If I tried to explain the entire game accurately, I would write a book. A synopsis filled with memories of a past love will have to do. It was a massively multiplayer online role playing game. You created yourself as a sorcerer, warrior, archer or a combination of the three. I chose a warrior to start. I got a couple of my real life gamer buddies to play. We roamed a landmass called Dereth, going from town to town, exploring. We hunted all kinds of creatures, from cat goblins(drudges) to giant bugs (olthoi) to mysterious cape ghosts(virindi). We braved forests, deserts, dungeons. As we did so we gained experience points and leveled up we sharpened our skills until we were certified badasses, This was world of warcraft circa 1999, and it was amazing.

We explored the world with nothing but the items in our backpacks: health potions, food, armor, and weapons.

We went to dangerous places, we died, we lost some of our shit, and then we made it to town. We survived. We had fun doing so.

This game is also how i first started developing a love for economics, and while that sounds insane to someone who hasn't played these games, it makes perfect sense to anyone that has.
When I say massively multiplayer, I mean it. There was this one dungeon on the map, nicknamed the Subway because it had a portals to many towns at the bottom, that nearly everyone gathered to sell items and trade in. People would stand there for extended periods of time advertising items they had to trade. It was crowded. It was the place to be.

FT: Fist of the Quiddity, 4 Small Shards.

Translation: This person has a rare hand weapon that looks like it is made of glowing sapphire that he wants to trade for 4 Small Shards, which could be assembled into something called Shadow Armor.

I learned what the hot items in the game were. I learned what materials people had to collect to make the most epic weapons and the best armor. It made sense to me that these things were worth a lot. There was a market dictating prices.

Now, here I am. I love economics with an inordinate amount of passion and am leaving for New Zealand, to wander from town to town, exploring.

And I really cant help but wonder, is it really possible that the video game I spent most of weekend nights in high school playing has driven me to learn all I can about Austrian economics and wander the country where LOTR was filmed with one of my best friends? Have I taken the idea of working on your character quite seriously? If so, time well spent.