A dog says...WWOOF

So, its been a while.

And as one might expect, a lot has happened. Since December 11th I have been on my lonesome. As my friends departed one by one, I became more and more anxious. As Tyson’s bus pulled away, I recall thinking “Balls. I am really alone now. I am more than 5000 miles away from home and I am alone. Home Alone 4: Lost in New Zealand.”

The first couple days were rough, but I immediately set to task. First thing was to let go of my final comfort: Miss Lucy.

She also left me in a week…finding a place with two smiley Lithuanian girls.

So there I was, a human mule walking down the streets of Auckland. I made plans to get out asap via public transport.

My first stop was in a small town named Opotoki…with a rather strange man named Brian and his Phillipino girlfriend. He was obsessed with opening minigolf courses all over the world. The Phillipines and Thailand will be the first to experience the bliss of Brian‘s Put Put. MINIGOLF. He talked my ear off about it. I gave what information I knew. That it was fun and that the risk of losing your ball was important.

He took me on ATV rides around his property which happened to be a whopping 1000 acres of natural bush…worth quite a pretty penny. I held on to the back of this thing as we flew up 45 degree inclines with him shouting something about a goats. While I did see a goat’s ass while it scurried away and some amazing views, I spent most of my time on the ATV focusing on avoiding death.

Other experiences at that farm include:

Holding our Christmas turkey as Brian decapitated it. It was a sobering moment for me. I will never again eat meat without thinking of the animal that died in order to feed me.

Operating a “scrub bar” on a rather steep hill that cut through small trees like a hot knife through butter. At first, operating a spinning blade of death on steep inclines is terrifying. Once you realize that you are in control of this blade of doom, its kinda fun.

The next stop was another wwoof house/yoga studio that could only be described as balls to the wall insane, literally during some poses.

Intense is the word that would sum this place up. A common day went something like:

Up at 6:30. Breathing work. Breakfast. Work. Lunch. Work. Yoga practice. Dinner. Meditation. Bed.

There was no down time. And Paul was one of those teachers who wasn’t afraid to teach in the old fashioned sense. You know, there was no coddling shit. It was more like…old style catholic school. Mess around and get smacked around. Aside from one instance in which I could not, for the life of me, figure out how to attach a catch to a mower…I did alright in this regard.

I could tell he saw me as a promising pupil. I listened and had the desire to learn. He gave my wood splitting proper form. He showed me how to operate a chain saw. He patiently explained his heavily bhuddist influenced ideas. The problem was, in my most humble of opinions, that while he spoke a lot of truth that he was having just as many problems living that truth.

He told me that one of the key’s to happiness and progress was to disassociate yourself from your ego….however this man’s ego was impregnable. When I challenged any of his ideas, he became annoyed. The look in his eyes was akin to an annoyed math teacher…having to again explain why 2 plus 2 equals 4. I became rather disillusioned as time wore on. I learned massive amounts of yoga and have awoken my feet…loosened my back up a bit, etc. However, I left that house feeling that no one knows anything. They believe in what they need to believe in. He knew what notes he had to play but couldn’t grasp the harmony.

There was a bitterness about him, an anger and resentment, a self assured attitude that all held him in a place of dissatisfaction. He seems like a man who will only teach what he knows, but accept no new lessons. I mean, shit, I played music in the house and he offered to put something on the main speakers. He put on Van Morrison’s “Enlightenment.”

Nothing new would be tolerated. Not even instrumental music.

Until today, I was on the road with Amanda, whom I survived the trials of the last house with. We developed a tight bond, both learning tons and battling insanity.

And now…I will become a fruit picker if things pan out right.

The best summation possible

Many props to my friend Vince who put this compilation of the trip together

The Trip