Hi from Dunedin!

The orientation shenanigans are over, more or less, and I’ve finally arrived at the city, flat, and school where I’ll be living for the next five months.

Dunedin is a small, vibrant city of 120,000 people, nestled in a valley by the sea. Small mountains curve the skyline off the north and west of campus, and I think the harbor might be visible from a few spots on the main shopping drag. The architecture is a spattered mix of all eras from about 1860 to the present, with some notably beautiful buildings (the Clocktower Building on campus is particularly lovely. Pictures soon). The flora are still driving me a little batty by sheer unfamiliarity: I’ve learned a few names, and some species are introduced from Europe or the Americas (beech-lined streets and quince bushes), but I still can’t wait to get my hands on a good field guide. The weather… is weather. Today we had sunshine for a very pleasant change, but before that it was constant cloud-cover and on-and-off drizzle. Very dreary. Given that the liverworts trying to take over certain corners of our backyard couldn’t survive without near-constant moisture, I don’t hold much hope for it letting up very long.

The flat is actually a little house—the four of us (soon to be five, when our Kiwi host arrives) share a tiny ranch, consisting mostly of five bedrooms but with a nice kitchen-dining-and-living-room and a bath-and-laundry-room in the back. There’s a little backyard: a rectangle of grass, several shrubs and small trees. My room is shockingly big after so long accustomed to dorm living, much closer to the size of my room at home. I’m rattling around in it, having not yet expanded to fill it comfortably. Most different from home is the lack of central heating, which really matters when the nights drop below freezing! Rooms with efficient heaters draw crowds; I’ve learned the value of hot-water bottles and electric blankets; and there must be some trick to getting dressed without freezing, but I haven’t quite learned it yet. I really should’ve packed more sweaters. I’ve bought a cheap fleece throw and am getting by pretty well with it, long johns, and many layers. The vest you bought me has come in handy repeatedly.

From first impressions, my flatmates are good people. Stina, from Colorado, is a self-described tomboy, amused at people’s difficulties with her short-cropped hair and eager to go on a trip to adventure-sport capital Queenstown despite (or maybe because of) the terrors of bungee jumping. She and I and one of her friends, apparently from her home school, went out shopping this afternoon for various necessities. Martin, from Denmark, kicks a rugby ball around in the common room (gently, thank goodness), sings along to the rhythm tracks of his techno and rock music, and tries to teach Stina to do headstands. Fred, from France but doing his whole degree at Otago, is friendly and open: he’ll go out of his way to offer advice with anything from registering for classes to finding elusive kitchen utensils. If the smells he conjures at lunchtime are any indication, his turn to cook dinner is going to be very enjoyable. Our Kiwi host, Lucinda, hasn’t arrived yet; I hope she’ll make it soon, so we can get things like dinners, chores, and the house accounts sorted out.

Lectures haven’t started yet, so I can’t exactly comment except on things like the registration process. Otago hasn’t digitized it: at 8:45 this morning I stood in a half-hour line to pick up a registration sheet, which I then carted around to advisors from the Botany, Ecology, Zoology, and Maori Studies departments to have them sign off on courses, and finally took back to the lecture hall to have the resultant schedule confirmed. There was a time conflict between two of the classes I was trying to decide between, so I had to run back and forth between the confirmation desks and the Ecology adviser several times, but I got it sorted in the end. I’m signed up now for New Zealand Plant Ecology, Mycology and Plant Pathology, Evolutionary Biology, and Intro to Conversational Maori; I might also switch Mycology for Ecological Applications, which is about half applied philosophy of science and half experimental design and research-program design.

Yesterday morning, there was a welcoming assembly for the international students. It certainly began interestingly: a fellow from the international students’ office gave us a five-minute welcoming (I think) speech in Maori. I understood about ten words of it. Thankfully, he switched to English after that, and before long introduced a Maori-song-and-dance group from a local primary school. (A line of twelve-year-old boys doing the haka—a Maori war dance!—is a pretty surreal sight.) The mayor of Dunedin welcomed us, resplendent in the heavy red-velvet ermine-trimmed robes of office that must be a leftover from old England—New Zealand hasn’t existed long enough for that Baroque style to be traditional. He gave us a warm welcome and an occasionally-wry little speech, ending when he burst into a song welcoming us to Dunedin. Turns out he’s a fairly good operatic baritone.

I’ve been spending most of my free time settling in. There’s still unpacking to be done. Shopping—well south of campus, mostly, though the groceries are a good deal closer—for various necessities. (Okay, they’re not all necessities. When the Wal-Mart-equivalent turned out to be hawking sizeable, healthy-looking potted primroses for NZ$1.70 apiece, I decided that the flat could really use some color.) Getting used to doing all my own cooking. It’s taking more time than I’d have expected.

Tonight, I actually spent my first evening in a bar: the university threw a quiz night for the international students. Stina and I, one of Stina’s friends, a girl from orientation whose name I’ve embarrassingly forgotten, and an English freshman named Matt formed a team. We ended up winning, to our surprise and amusement: $50 in drink vouchers and a goodie bag. I took home a CD, a pair of cheap ski goggles, and a sense of budding community.

Emotionally, I’m mostly all right. The inescapable cold and the persistent gray are definitely getting to me, as is the uncertainty of lacking a routine. The events (class registration, quiz night) are helping. Classes should too, I hope. I do miss everyone at home. Not acutely, but there’s that ache of homesickness. I’m keeping it at bay with activity and writing home.

Tomorrow should be interesting: after the meeting to open my new bank account, I’m going on a four-hour train trip up Taieri Gorge behind the city. It’s another free international-student-welcome event, and includes lunch. Hopefully I’ll meet people.