Ze Next Installment (Yes, this is the same as the email)

Dear Comrades and Family and Loved Ones,

I greet you from a flat in the heart of Queenstown, New Zealand, a rather rich tourist city driven by poor travellers like myself who work housekeeping jobs and then visit the bars every night (well, I don't do that last part.) So what am I doing here? How did I get a fllat? Do I have a job?

Let's rewind a bit. Last we talked, had I landed in Akaroa and was staying at a hostel there, doing housecleaning to earn my keep? Well, I did that. Akaroa is stunning. But I'm fairly certain I've told you all about this part.... My Mother came to visit for a week after that, and it was truly wonderful. 6 days is not a long time, but Time bowed to us and we were able to fill it with memories, if you'll excuse the phrase, to last a lifetime. We salmon fished, touched a glacier, taught a Brazilian woman to say the word "Awesome," and swam with the dolphins in the good ole deep blue. My mother has a photo website with pictures from her visit-- http://sgdsoon.spaces.live.com/ so check it out! There are a few pictures of me where, in my opinion, I look a bit sub par, so overlook those and focus on the scenery, s'il vous plait :) Remember I'm a backpacker with no money who doesn't often get to shower and only has three outfits...so cut me some slack.

On the last day of my Mom's visit, she and I went to see an Italian film entitled Marcello, Marcello, which was quite cute. In the cinema, I began to converse with an older woman, who later introduced herself as Prunella. Prunells is retired lawyer (among many other things) who now cleans houses, cares for animals, and cares for the local elderly. She offered me free accommodation and free food for a few weeks of wwoofing work. When my mother left, I had the rental car for two days, so I drove myself all the way down to the very tip of the South Island--for the heck of it! Beautiful drive. And then I visited Steve in Queenstown and returned to Pru, who lives just outside of Akaroa in a place called Takamatua. Let me paint you a picture: Pru's house used to be a backpackers, and is a deep green, wooden house with a huge porch laden with firewood and other assorted items, such as a piano, and a picnic table used to crack walnuts. the table didn't do the cracking of course. But anyway. For the first week, I lived in a caravan deep in her backyard (which is huge and full of baby fruit trees) practically teeming with character. The walls were of a certain kind of material that held onto chalk well--so, there were messages scrawled all over the walls--some inspirational, some crass (ex: If the Pope takes a crap in the woods, does it make the forest sacred?) I drew a clown with the light bulb as a nose, and contributed a favourite phrase--"if not love, what?" I eventually moved into the main house when another wwoofer, an Israeli woman named Jafit, arrived for four (much too short, she was wonderful) days.

During my time with Prunella, I helped clean houses, worked on her property tending to trees and raking up copious amounts of dead grass and weeds, cracked walnuts, and helped take care of three elderly individuals, May, Frank, and Tom. May Curry is a woman in her early nineties, but she is still incredibly private and independent. She continues to look after a garden and cook all of her own meals, and in her youth, used to ride her horse down into town. This is impressive because she lives in a large house on top of an unpopulated mini mountain. Frank, a man in his late eighties, has recently lost his wife and has taken to having a bit of a romantic liking for Pru, but besides this (and perhaps because of this) he is quite endearing. His wife used to play the piano, and now that it isn't used, he loves it when people play. Earlier, Pru had asked me if I played any piano, and I told her I played a wee bit, so she had told Frank I would play for him. A tad bit nerve wracking, since the last wwoofer had been a concert pianist (big shoes to fill) and I am, well, nothing of the sort. But I knew my strengths--I could only plunk out melodies on the piano, but I could sing any lyrics. I found a book of songs from the musical My Fair Lady and took to singing Wouldn't It Be Loverly with gumption. Frank loved it. And Tom, bless him. Tom is in his mid nineties and is not very well at all. He is a chain smoker and was quite the drinker in his lifetime. Although he is housebound and mainly chair bound, his health doesn't seem to concern him and he chain smokes and watches television all day. However, it's obvious that either he or his late wife had a great love of art--masterpieces hang around the house, abstract and post-modern, mainly. Tom has a reputation for being a bit surly and demanding, but he took to me for some mysterious reason, and by the time it was my last day, he honoured our time together with a blown kiss, a rather affectionate gesture from not typically an affectionate man.

Prunella also had a son, Michael, who at one point took Jafit and I out on a speedboat through the Akaroa Bay and into the ocean. It was there, standing at the front of the speedboat, whipping across blue gray water under blue gray skies, that I felt heaven. From that moment, however silly you may think I sound, I believe that if there is an afterlife, for me, personally, it will be that. I will ride a speedboat into the horizon for eternity, I really believe that.

At the end of three weeks, I left Prunella in order to pick up a rental car in Christchurch, because I wanted to do a little bit more site-seeing before I had to settle myself down somewhere and shovel myself out of debt. I spent a week sleeping in my car, listening to Dolly Parton and Joni Mitchell, driving beautiful roads and visiting places like Steward Island (closest you can get to Antarctica without actually going there--plus, Stewart Island is home to a place called Fern Gully!) and the Mt John Observatory where the star gazing was INCREDIBLE and I got to see a zoomed in galaxy, Saturn's rings, the milky way, mars, an astounding yellow moonrise, and the Southern Cross constellation.

During that trip, I stopped in Queenstown to visit Steve again, and during that time one thing led to another, and I decided I wanted to stay there for the next few months. The view there is terrible. I stopped at a temp agency which assured me (falsely, but oh well) that if I showed up Monday morning at 7, I should get housekeeping work or something similar, so with promise of a job (which I desperately need...still) I hunted down a flat, paid for a week (you pay a week at a time here) and continued back to Christchurch to turn in the car. Once the car was turned in, I had to make it back to Queenstown, and I was lucky enough to find rides with several different people, as Queenstown is a long way from Christchurch. In fact I was in Christchurch overnight, and didn't have the money to pay for a hostel, so I hung out in the only 24 hour place in the city--the casino. I stood out a bit, but I was able to stay there all night, passing for a gambler, but mostly hiding in the restroom and reading. My life is a fascinating adventure novel.

Anyway, after an eventful trip back to QT, I arrived exhausted, but happy, and unpacked in my new room with a tired contentment. There are about 11 people living in this big house, and they are all as different and as friendly as they can be. I directly share a space with Charlotte and Jenn, both from Britain, and we already get along great after two days. As you probably have surmised, when I showed up Monday morning for my temp job, I was informed they didn't actually need me. Because I am in a bit of a financial rut (I'll spare you the details--just a bit in the hole, but I'm climbing out, this tends to happen when you backpack for four months,) I took the opportunity to job search for the day and hit up every job agency in town (there are five) as well as other walk in advertisements. But right after I sent this email today, I received a phone call and now have a telemarketing job everyday, 6 hours at 15 bucks an hour, for 5 days a week! I'll probably need to get another part time job because it won't really be enough for my Australia and Samoa plane tickets, but it's definitely an improvement! I was certainly ready to go to extremes--earlier I had walked into a budget store (think dollar store) and found ared nose, white make up, wigs, and an assortment of masks including a neutral mask and variations of. I've decided that this is probably the universe telling me (if the universe talks) to get creative in my money making--so this weekend I think I will get an act together and perform down near the harbor street and see if I can make some grocery money! We'll see, anyway.

Despite any natural traveller's hardships, I feel very happy. A bit hungry, a bit tired, but completely content. I already have friends here, new and old, and I am optimistic about the next few months. At this point in my year, I need to stay in one place for awhile in order to get myself back on my feet and make enough money to begin travelling again mid-June. It'll be strange to not be constantly moving around, but I'm ready for a little bit of stability. I'm not sure if there's any more news--I'm reading like crazy and writing equally as much. My ipod is broken (quite a bummer), as are my headphones, so that's a shame, but I just sing to myself. I am blessed beyond humble imagination, and I never forget this.

I hope you are all living your days with gusto and joy. And relish the warm weather--we're losing it here, so now you can make fun of me, shivering in the cold. With much love and zest, Sarah Duncan