job update

I figured it was about time I post a bit of a personal update, specifically regarding the ever-frustrating job searching. We knew that we were taking a big risk by quitting good jobs to move overseas, but I can't say that I ever actually expected to find myself in a prolonged stint of unemployment like the one that I've been in for the last nine months. I find myself much more able to empathize with others who spend long hours on library computers, sending CVs for boring, low-paying jobs that would only be accepted out of desperation. I had an interview at Valleygirl last week, a clothing store at the mall filled with overly frilly dresses for skinny 13-year-olds, and was both embarrassed and relieved not to have been offered the position.

A few weeks ago I committed two afternoons to handing out CVs at local malls, getting a dozen or more into the hands of store managers at Northlands Mall, but receiving little encouragement later in the week at Riccarton Mall, where one manager snapped at me, "we filled our Christmas positions a month ago!" in response to my inquiry about open positions. Yesterday my voicemail contained a message from a manager at the first mall asking if I was still interested in a seasonal position, though I haven't been able to make out her name or the store name despite replaying the message four times, so I may have to call the number blindly and hope the person who answers the phone includes the name of the store in her opening greeting.

I do have some cause for hope, though, depending on your view of the supernatural and of prophecy. :) Two Sundays ago our pastor initiated a special prayer time at the end of the service for those with financial needs, and I went forward to receive prayer for a job from the pastor's wife. After a brief prayer, she told me that she felt like there was a job waiting for me in the classifieds of the Saturday paper, and even pointed out where on the page she thought I'd find it. I popped down the the library early in the week, and though I browsed through every local paper from the previous Saturday, nothing popped out at me. Yesterday, however, while waiting for a computer to open up, I decided to make another try with the following weekend's paper, and excitedly discovered a position in student housing and activities at Canterbury University (exactly what I've been looking for) that hadn't been listed on the university website or on TradeMe. It was even located halfway down the right-hand page, right where my pastor's wife had indicated. I sent a cover letter and CV, and am even allowing myself to be a little hopeful, though I guess we'll have to see what happens from here, if anything.

Bryan had an interview yesterday for a position as the manager of an after-school kids program connected with a Presbyterian church in Hornby. His current visa doesn't allow him to work anywhere but at our church, but if he's offered the job, he's going to petition for an exception. The hope is that, as it's connected to a church, he can argue that he has training specific to the role because of his ministry degree. It's worth a shot, eh? It also gave him an opportunity to meet the children's pastor at the church, so maybe it will at least help him network a bit. I think he should have been offered the job based solely on the tightness of his pants - we've both chunked up a bit since getting off the trail, and the dress pants he bought a year ago were amusingly snug. :)

-Rachel

The Day of Delicious American Sweet Treats

We have unofficially declared today to be the Day of Delicious American Sweet Treats and are celebrating in style with those who happen to find themselves in our vicinity today, and who we hope are appreciating their good fortune. This day is especially exciting because we are in the middle of another self-declared calendar period, No-Sweets November, in which I am attempting to curb my out-of-control sweet tooth by allowing myself only three days in which to indulge in chocolate and other desserty items, so we've already gone nearly sugarless for a full week, which is pretty much the same length as forever.

Already today we have been privileged to introduce to our church colleagues the delicious treat known as the Root Beer Float, in a country where ginger beer reigns and root beer is practically unheard of. Fortunately, we have been consistently supplied by classic A&W root beer by, of all places, the Asian Food Warehouse, just a block away from the church, at the very affordable price of $1 each (canned soda in New Zealand is ridiculously expensive). The floats were met with a very positive response ("wow, what is this?"), though our intern, Hannah, compared to the taste of medicine ("but I love medicine!"), and a second round was quickly prepared for all.

This evening, if all goes well, we will be presenting our young adults small group with the opportunity to sample the delectable fare known by the unassuming title of Puppy Chow - Crispix cereal with melted peanut butter and chocolate, rolled in powdered sugar. Peanut butter and chocolate is, lamentably, not a widely appreciated combination here, so we're hoping to win a few converts to the cause and thereby improve their standards of living :)

Very proud to be an American,

Rachel

the world's most boring town

Two weeks ago, Bryan and I visited the world's most boring town. We took advantage of cheap train tickets to Kaikoura, a town three hours up the coast that we had been meaning to visit since breezing through on the bus from Nelson in January, and discovered that 27 hours in this town is more than enough time to see all of its not-so-numerous and less-than-enthralling sights.

We left on a Wednesday and returned on a Saturday, spending the first 3 days tramping at Mt. Fyffe, which looms over the plains of Kaikoura and serves as the easternmost mountain in the Kaikoura Ranges. As it only takes 5 hours to reach the summit (and half that time to return to the carpark), most people do this hike in a day, but we spent two nights in cozy Mt. Fyffe Hut, enjoying the unbelievable efficiency of its wood stove and appreciating the view of the Kaikoura Peninsula and its beaches in springtime while snow was falling around us. We'd been planning to spend one night at this hut, reach the summit the next morning, and follow the ridge down on the other side to Hapuku Hut, but the amount of snow at the top was a concern and my out-of-shape self didn't need much of an excuse to take it easy instead. We had wonderful company in the hut on our first night - Benjamin, a 19-year-old German who has been a licensed glider pilot since the age of 14 (four years before he could legally drive a car in Germany), and Tally, a 65-year-old Coloradan who sold her house 8 years ago and has been travelling the world ever since (Alaska to Antarctica). She seemed to view New Zealand as a second home, this being something like her fifth or sixth time here, though she seemed to be viewing her current trip as the last one, or at least the last one for a while.

On Friday we returned to lower elevations, hoping desperately but futilely to hitch a ride for the remaining 10 miles into town, and limped into a holiday park just after lunchtime with painful blisters from my not-quite-broken-in boots. We paid way too much for a cabin that turned out to consist only of a bed (no blankets) and a breakfast table with two chairs, as we couldn't be bothered to walk any farther in search of slightly cheaper accommodation. The one highlight of this holiday park was its possession of the mysteriously-titled Jumping Pillow, which turned out to be exactly what it sounds like - a gigantic (15'x60'?), pillow-shaped inflatable that we are now determined to purchase for our church. The amount of joy that Bryan derived from this new toy alone was worth the $60 we paid for the night.

Kaikoura is known for two things: its whale watching tours and its seafood. As neither are in the least bit budget-friendly, we had to settle for cheaper activities, of which there are very few in existence. A person can only wander around Kaikoura's two-block shopping area for so long, and the cool breeze on the pebbly shore kept us out of the water, so we were thrilled to find that the one-screen historic art-deco cinema had a 7:30 showing of The Runaways, which we had been interested in seeing, and planned our entire night around this event. Our arrival at 7:20 brought us to an empty but open-doored theater, where a teenaged kid with a broom scurryied about without acknowledging our presence at the concession/ticket counter. When an older woman, who I assumed to be the owner, sauntered up a few minutes later, our attempts to purchase tickets ended with the discovery that this cinema is cash-only and the nearest ATM is a ten-minute walk away. This completely unadvertised policy was made even more frustrating by the casual way in which the woman shrugged as we expressed our disappointment and walked away. We sat on the rocks across from the cinema and watched as an older couple and a child (a granddaughter, maybe?) wandered in, but didn't see any other moviegoers that night. How is this theater staying in business?

On Saturday, again having nothing to do, we arrived at the tiny train station to wait for the TranzCoastal as early as we possibly could without looking completely homeless, breathing a sigh of relief when it finally pulled up and we were allowed to sink into its comfy seats on our way back home to beautiful, glorious, civilized, credit card-taking Christchurch. Our good friend Phil picked us up from the train station, which hides behind a shopping center ("there's a train station in Christchurch?"), and we threaded our way home through concert traffic from a free outdoor show in Hagley Park, where many of New Zealand's biggest names in music (Dave Dobbyn, Op Shop, Bic Runga, and others that I feigned knowledge of and enthusiam about) were playing in front of 100,000 people (a quarter of the city's population) as a sort of earthquake-survival tribute. It was good to be home.

-Rachel