Lanternfest

Friday, November 29 felt like a holiday, and as it turned out it was, though not due to it being Thanksgiving on the US of A side of the international dateline.

The day’s festivities began with an end-of-semester party for the TAFE class (community college) for adults with developmental disabilities that I had been attending.

Ann and I walked up the hill two blocks to the Warrnambool Bowls Club where the celebratory luncheon was being held. We spotted a threesome of squawking magpies in a tree on the way, a good omen.

The Warrnambool Bowls Club is very much like the Chico Elks Lodge. Many community events and group gatherings are held there. There were about sixty people in attendance, in a private room on one side of a bar. The other side of the bar opened up to the regular dining facility over looking the lawn bowling area.

One of the beauties of being here is opening up to new and different paces, and slowing down to enjoy the places. Today was a good example. We all had to order our meal at the bar, and get drinks there too. The calm graciousness of the one staff person taking orders was a special gift to behold. She was so attentive, respectful, and patient while taking orders and payment from customers for whom such simple tasks were not so simple.

I had to first go through the inner critiquing voice of “I can’t believe how slow and inefficient this all is,” until I had the aha moment of just being there.

Ann and I shared a table with Michael and his mother. On my first day of class Michael made me a name tag to pin to my shirt. He is twenty-five years old, and as I found out today, he lives at home with his parents. Michael also gave me a Christmas card at the last class. He is very social, and likes to give cards. At the event he took down fifty-three names to make sure his card list was complete.

Michael does not hear well, and his speech can be difficult to understand at times. He is almost always “on,” meaning talking full bore, repeating and questioning those around him. He is very expressive, with a smile and eyes that light up easily and often communicate more to me than what his words may be.

After eating, certificates of completion were handed out. Interestingly, the only “speech” given was by a student who at class almost always sat by himself, and did not like anyone to invade his personal space. He asked for the microphone, thanked the teachers and classmates, and said how he was looking forward to next semester. So am I.

After the certificate formalities, there was a dance. Highlights there were a group retro dance performance to the tune of Celebrate, a lovely couple who slow danced every song together, and dancing with Ann.

At the close of the event, Michael’s mom asked Ann and me if we would like to go with her and Michael to Tarrington that night for Lanternfest. Hmmm, wonder what that is, so “yes” was the way to find out.

Tarrington, population 90 per the tourist map, is a rural town about a hundred kilometers north. It is a community of German heritage, centered physically and socially around a Lutheran Church built in the early 1800’s.

Lanternfest is to celebrate a different commencement, that of the start of the Advent Season, and the light of Christmas. In the old days floating paper lanterns with candles would be set aloft at dark. Perhaps due to environmental concerns, and no doubt even more so due to great risk of bush fire, a procession of hand held battery lit lanterns is now the culminating event.

It was really just like a school fair and carnival, with a touch of Octoberfest mixed in, and of course a generous pinch of old world Lutheran Church.

We got there just as the first of several church tours was being offered, so we joined in.  The docent leading the tour was the wife of the great great grandson of the church’s founding pastor. The church has three bells, imported from Germany around 1810 at the cost of $12,000. A lot of money back then. They are hand operated with rope pulls, and still serve to call folks to church, and to alert the community to local emergencies.

At the front of the church was a rainbow display of cascading fabric.  I asked the docent if it represented the church’s support for gender and sexual equity. “No” she replied, it was decoration for a presentation the church youth were to put on later that evening with each color symbolizing an attribute of the light of Jesus that all comes together as one ray of hope and salvation.

Outside things were more down to earth, with apple bobbing, sponge tossing, and bake sales all drawing a crowd. But the best line of all was that for the grilled sausages with sauerkraut, with “American” mustard too! (i.e., of the yellow mild variety, that is in fact labeled as American mustard).

Old school apple bobbing

 After a very satisfying sausage session, Ann and I toured the adjoining Lutheran school, which made this an official sabbatical trip too.

Back outside there was Maypole dancing, a beer stein holding competition, and a variety of games to play.

Check out the real competitors in the background

Beer stein shuffleboard

 

As it started getting dark, Ann and I went back in the church to warm up and to watch the children’s advent presentation. We met up with Michael and his mom who were also warming and watching. Afterwards, outside as the lantern procession was about to start, Michael and mom were still cold and tired, and ready to go home. So were we. 

We made a drive through town to see the display of decorated hay bales, and then doubled back for the return home. As it turned out we also got to see the procession set off as we headed back to Warrnambool.

One of the many decorated hay bale sculptures

It was a day full of wonderful light. The setting sun on the church, and the evening clouds, were quite spectacular. But it was the delight of new friends that really lit things up.

Thanksgiving Bowl

We already celebrated our turkey dinner with some friends last Sunday but we continued in the tradition of thankfulness all week. On Thanksgiving eve we went for a sausage sizzle and barefoot bowling with some friends from Deakin. Neither Andy or I have been lawn bowling before, and I just have to say that it's harder than it looks. The balls are weighted so they roll lopsided. The person giving us the lesson said it's all in the feet. Apparently, I have inept feet because I couldn't get the ball to go where I wanted. Andy had a bit more success than I. Just look at that form!

I spent our "Thanksgiving" Thursday morning writing at the Deakin research retreat and Andy watched Happy Gilmore with the group of developmentally disabled students with whom he volunteers. The afternoon, however, was spent on the beach with about half of Warrnambool. It was hot and humid and people were happy to get in the (quite cold) water on what was our hottest day of the year so far! We are responsibly wearing our hats and sunscreen!

Today, which is Friday and Thanksgiving Day in the US, we are off for more lawn bowling with some of the teachers and students Andy volunteers with at the TAFE. The morning clouds have cleared and it's forecast to be 66 degrees. We are thankful for all of our friends and family, at home and everywhere.

Work? Oh right, there's that...

I thought I'd give just a little update on my academic work, ostensibly the reason I am on sabbatical in Australia. :-)

During the last term (July-October) I did some guest lectures, visited a variety of schools, attended some meetings and presentations, and spent one or two days a week out at campus "networking." Bernadette and I worked hard at recruiting authors for our book, submitted our book proposal, and signed the contract a few weeks ago. Self-study in Rural Teacher Education is due December 2014! We're also working on some type of student exchange options.

This week and next, while most of my US friends and colleagues are on Thanksgiving break, I'm involved in the most heavily structured work time since I've been here. This week my Deakin colleagues have generously invited me to be a part of a week long writing retreat here in Warrnambool. About 22 faculty members and doctoral students from all of the Deakin campuses (including Geelong and Melbourne) have come here for the week to focus on productive writing. We spend the mornings working independently with no chatting and no email! It is very serious work time and these are dedicated academics. The afternoons are a combination of independent work and presentations by participants related to research and publishing. I'm looking forward to Wednesday afternoon when I will be a discussant for a small panel presenting on various educational theories.

On Sunday we are off to Adelaide for the Australian Association for Research in Education (AARE) conference (similar to our AERA). Andy was invited to ride along for five days in a new Australian city. I understand it will be about a 7-hour drive. I won't be presenting, but will enjoy seeing my colleagues present and will be learning more about teacher education from other Australian researchers.

It appears to me that all of the universities in Australia are similar to what we would call "Research 1" institutions. This means many things, but the most obvious to me is that their job assignment is typically 40% research, 40% teaching, and 20% service and there is very high pressure to publish research because this is ultimately what drives most of their funding. This is similar, for example, to the load and expectation at a University of California institution. This is different from the California State University system, where our load is more like 80% teaching and 20% service, with an expectation (albeit lesser) to publish but the only assigned time to research and write being the optional sabbatical after seven years. (Don't get me started on that issue...!) Let me be clear, though, most of my teacher education colleagues here and in the states work far more than their "100%" allocation. 

There is some variation among the Australian universities. They often have specialty disciplines and are formally and informally ranked among one another. The "sandstone universities" are Australia's oldest tertiary education institutions and would be similar to our "ivy league" schools. They also have TAFE schools (Technical and Further Education) which would be somewhat similar to our community colleges.

I am really grateful to have some dedicated and focused time to work on my book chapter and reflect on what I've learned about teacher education and rural schools so far. The only annoying thing is that it has been cold and rainy for the last couple weeks and these are the first few warm and sunny days. Oh well, I will just have to work independently in the sun. (PS Yes, I'm wearing sunscreen!)

Why Did the Koala Cross the Road?

"Slow down! There's something on the side of the road. I think it's a cat."
As we got closer and Andy did not slow down as much as I thought he would... it became apparent that this was no cat. It was a KOALA!!! The previous koala crossing signs had turned out to be true and our koala came right out in our lane and plopped down in front of the car. Luckily there were no cars behind us so we just stopped and waited for it to get up and lumber on its way.

Weekend in the "Big Smoke"

I love learning the language of Australia. The "big city" is known here as the big smoke. This weekend we were off to Melbourne to explore some new sights with our friend Nathan. Nathan is an American academic colleague now working at a Melbourne university and he offered to host us on our exploration of where he lives on the Mornington Peninsula, the southeastern suburbs.

View from the train

View through a dirty window on the train

Our arrival at Southern Cross Station in Melbourne

The train ride to Melbourne is 3.5 hours and there are three trains a day. It makes about 8-10 stops along the way in small towns between here and the city. It might seem like a long way to go, but it's an easy trip. There's a small snack shop in the train where you can get halfway decent coffee and some microwave-ready meat pies or sausage rolls. Andy sleeps. Or we chat with the people who are sitting next to us or in the seats facing us. It's not uncommon to become friendly with people whose knees are kissing your knees. On Friday's trip we sat across from two 30-something women who boarded at Colac. They were two nurses, off to the city for a girls weekend. "What happens on girls weekend, stays there." (We ended up on the same train home on Sunday. And by the looks of things, what happened on girls weekend was a lot of shopping.)

We had planned this particular weekend in the city because we wanted to go see the Melbourne Boomers vs. the Canberra Capitals (national level women's basketball) on Saturday night. Nathan had plans to see the symphony on Friday night so we we joined him and he joined us on Saturday. The symphony was the Russian Masters and I think Andy and Nathan enjoyed it quite a lot. I did too, but I was more psyched to see the basketball.

The basketball game was fun but not what we are used to seeing in the WNBA. The game was held at the State Basketball Center which appears to be a venue for all levels of basketball, mostly hosting kids' leagues, and it felt like a college gym. It was cool to see kids lined up along the court sitting in bean bags and enjoying the game, but there were no cheerleaders, loud music, or t-shirt give-aways. Because Australian universities don't have intercollegiate sports teams (all sports are played in regional leagues), and because professional athletes also often hold a full time job, the status of professional athletics is different from what we are used to in the US. Most of the players are in their 20's and the level of play was competitive. The game was tied with a minute left in the game and the Boomers sunk a three-pointer and added three more points to win by six.

Boomers are in purple, just like our former Sacramento Monarchs

The half time show was pint-size players with some serious game

During the day on Saturday, Nathan took us to the end of the peninsula where we could walk along the ocean side of the coast. We noticed many of the lifeless shearwater bodies on this beach as well. Fortunately, there were a lot of beautiful things to look at also: kids sliding down the beach dunes on boogie boards, marathon runners on their beach leg of a 50K run, gorgeous rock formations, and coastal delights in all directions.

Summer sledding

This is a little reminiscent of Crazy Horse for me

On Sunday afternoon, Nathan dropped us at the Frankston train station where we caught a metro train into the city. At Southern Cross Station, we boarded our "country train" back to Warrnambool. On our trip home we talked about how great it would be to be able to board a train in Chico that gets to San Francisco 3+ hours later. No traffic, no parking, no hassle.

Our route home

99 Tears

Black tears.

I counted ninety nine dead birds on the beach from Ritchie Point at the mouth of the Hopkins to the Flume beach access point.

It was a Rachel Carson moment, the silent cries of body count growing ever louder on a seemingly normal spring day.

Other birds were out and about, gnats were buzzing around discarded seaweed, and rabbits were observed in plentiful number on the way to Point Ritchie. (Too early in the day for wallaby sightings though.)

It turned out that life was going on in normal fashion too for the migratory black shearwaters, colloquially known as the muttonbird.

As I learned from my research assistant, Ann, there had been what is known as a wreck, a mass die off of birds in migration.  Basically, the muttonbirds had run out of gas, literally only a few kilometers from their nesting grounds.

The shearwaters spend warmer months in the arctic and Siberian seas. They migrate in North American winter months to the warmer summer waters of Australia and New Zealand where they breed. They typically return to same nesting grounds each year to mate, clean out old nests (burrows in sand dunes), and use them again for egg laying. Interestingly, the adult birds then leave for a return migration to northern waters. The shearwater youngsters hatch on their own in due course, and a few months later they too leave for northern waters.

If there is not enough food upon initial arrival of the adults migrating south, or if bad weather delays the journey, a wreck may ensue. Apparently this last happened locally in 2009. 

It was a sobering moment to walk through the carnage. Although somewhat palliative to take subsequent solace in the normalcy of this wreckage, there is a wound still not quite healed.  

Bird Watching

I’ve never thought of myself as a “birder,” but I find myself drawn to watch them on our adventures down under. In addition to watching our resident magpies ruling the roost, I’ve been captivated by a Eurasian blackbird who has been regularly and robustly singing from the top of the neighbor’s antennae.

As Andy and I strolled on our Saturday morning walk, we stopped by Lake Pertobe where there was no shortage of feathered friends. All the regulars were there: mallards, teal ducks, a pair of black swans, a pelican, Australian coots, swarms of seagulls begging for breadcrumbs, barrel-chested magpies, and our friends the pukeko. These birds have a striking appearance with black heads and wings, a deep blue chest, and a bright red beak that extends between the eyes and up over the forehead. The pukeko remind me of gangly 7^th grade boys, red blotches on their faces and not really sure what to do with all the awkward sprouting limbs. When they fly, which isn’t often or very high, their legs dangle below them. I stood and watched as one used his beak to pluck tufts of Bermuda grass and then hold it with his long red toes so he could eat what appeared to be one small piece of the root. Next to him was a little pile of discarded grass bits strewn about like sunflower seed shells at a softball game.

Along the beach boardwalk, we stopped to watch a bird that was coasting on the wind. We presumed it to be some type of kite, likely a harrier. The wind was strong enough to allow the bird to hover motionless for long periods of time over the dune grasses, which hopefully housed something tasty. The bird dove a few times, but didn’t come up with any lunch.

We, however, were ready for lunch so we stopped by a favorite café above the surf and life saving club. The large windows overlook Lady Bay, which featured racing sailboats today. I was more interested in the Superb Fairywrens on the boardwalk below. They really are the cutest little bird. Their long slender tail feathers perkily twitch back and forth and their heads are such a bright baby blue that they look like a cartoon. The poor little female fairywrens are the color of sand, similarly spirited but blending into the background and leaving the limelight for the flamboyant males.

Unwind. Rewind.

“The birds sound good," I say out loud. It is hard to feel and think back to capture the flavors of twelve days of feasting in NZ with sights, sounds, and smells of Warrnambool spring in the way.

Yesterday I walked on the beach east to Granny’s Grave, then up through the dunes to the seaside promenade, and back along the walkway. Barefoot. Not quite as monumental as long ago summer’s first run across Stone Harbor sidewalk pebbles, but a threshold crossed nonetheless.

There was so much new in the air. A new bird cry that startled me in its sharpness. I heard it again today and this time saw the thrush honey catcher only a few feet away, comfortably housed in a thicket of what looked like Manzanita blackened by fire. The only fire though was that of magenta wild flowers pushing up from below and licking at the branches.

There were two large wallabies out in the field by the car park adjacent to the beach access at the Flume.  I watched them. They watched me, until I moved on to the beach.

The warmth of the day was cut by a strong cool knife of arctic breeze. I went with the wind. Generally that is not preferred, but I knew the promenade walk back would be sheltered from it.

Another “rule” is to physically take no more then one item per day. It was a two item walk though, with a heart rock catching my eye, and a rare for Warrnambool gift of a well worn abalone shell. Abalone shell is a Maoiri treasure of sort, used for art and decorative purposes. I figured it was there to link me back to NZ.

I had the sight lines in all directions to myself.  There was a large yellow sea buoy washed up on the beach near my turn around point.  I wondered about what storm brought it there, but it wasn’t talking. So, a turn to the north away from the sea, up and though the dunes, to a yellow brick road of promenade path leading to the wonders of spring.

It was warm, almost hot in the sheltered hollows and dips away from the breeze. I was brought to alert by that sharp hidden bird cry. The whole landscape had changed from last being there a few weeks ago. A new palate of colors and textures had been spilled out over the bush and dune grassland. Flowers that had been in full bloom were now fading, with some going to seed. New blooms of color were mixed in. Both the grasses and bushes were subtly frosted here and there at their tips with wispy seedpod entrails.  

Fairy contrails perhaps…. I follow them back to New Zealand, a very magical place indeed.  In deed. In spirit.

My basic illustrative analogy is that of a twelve round prize fight with NZ the undisputed champion. Each day was another knockout round of wow, pow, did you see that?  And look, more sheep!

The mountains outside of Queenstown are called The Remarkables. They are. A north south spine of snow covered rock, steep sides, boulder dotted slopes disappearing into the tree line.  Their angular ridge edge reaching to the sky was a giant cosmic gear or fly wheel waiting to engage with who knows what.

There were ever so many other vertebrae mountain ranges all along the west coast, connected with sinewy braided rivers overflowing with water and ice, nourishing both alpine rain forest and alluvial plains full of glacial scree. And sheep of course.

Ocean and beaches. More magical rocks, both large and small. A layered landscape at every turn of light and shadow, greens, greys, and blacks.  Pastures, waters, boulders, trees, rocks and snow disappearing into other felt but unseen worlds of weather, wind, and rain.

And then it all grabs you again the next day.  And the next…

One particularly compelling constant was the inner awareness of special and sacred places opening up to us. The whole landscape still reverberates with the energy of earth and sky being pushed apart by one of the Maori first people (the children of earth and sky) so as to let in daylight.

Our Auckland hosts tuned us in to the bicultural nature of NZ place and culture. Museum visits there and in Wellington turned us on to the pervasive richness of it all. We dropped out into it further each day. 

It was a good trip.

All that and fruit swirled ice cream at a road side stand, white fish omelet at another stop, drinking glacier fresh river water, boat rides, flooding lakes and streams, birds, walks, more birds, train rides, waterfalls waving at us almost every day, indoor miniature golf, outdoor mountain hot pools in a rain forest, beach discoveries, ocean caresses, more walks, snow and snowed on, good food, and great people.

OK, I did knock off a piece of passenger side car mirror as I ducked to the left coming off of one of the many one way bridges with an incoming car headed my way, but we had the extra insurance, something I strongly recommend for NZ rental car driving.

It was a ride to remember, retrace, and revel in what it revealed.

PS  A note on a bit of paper that I just found,  written at Te Papa Museum in Wellington, the “Golden Rule” of Walter Cook, a collector of domestic wares:  “Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.”

New Zealand People

Every person I had ever talked to about New Zealand has been totally impressed. At least twice, people have told me it’s their favorite place on the planet, and now I know why. As you have seen if you looked at any of the pictures, it’s spectacular. In addition to the stunning geographical features, almost every meal we had was outstanding. And, as we had been told, the people were always very friendly. We met some pretty nice people, both Kiwis and travelers. 

We were greeted at the beginning of our trip by our new friends, Dawn and Alan. Having locals show us around Auckland made it one of our favorite places. In addition to being great tour guides and hosts, we really enjoyed their company and look forward to seeing them again. With them and our visit to University of Otago, I now have a couple academic contacts for future NZ collaborations.

We happened to share two of our scenic train rides with Colin. Colin lent me his Birds of New Zealand book so I could look up some birds I was seeing. He was not as impressed by the pheasants as I, because he said they had plenty in his native England. I told him they were the state bird of South Dakota. He said to me, "I want to go to Ipswich, SD, because I am from Ipswich, England. It's near Aberdeen." Whoa, this guy knows some small SD towns! He told me he was on a trip around the world, visiting friends and family along the way. Colin loved San Diego but was turned off with the "homeless problem" in San Francisco. When I told him we live in Chico, he said, "Ah, they make Sierra Nevada beer there? I met a bartender in Auckland the other night who is from there." Small world!

We stayed at a number of “mom and pop” motels where the owners were often chatty. The woman who owns the Arena Motel in Christchurch is a university journalism instructor. She told me all about how she has been teaching out of portable buildings on a polytechnic campus on the outskirts of town because her university building was lost in the earthquake two years ago. 

Captain Jerry

On our lake cruise in Queenstown, our captain told us he comes to northern California every other year because his brother lives in Oroville. He also said he has a vacation home in LA. We met a few Americans who live in Queenstown. Our server (and I think the owner/manager) of a Japanese restaurant in Queenstown told us he was from San Francisco and a clerk in a souvenir shop, originally from New Hampshire, told us about the flood in 1999 as we watched the lake waves wash over the docks.

On our Milford Sound cruise we shared a table in the main cabin with two friends on holiday, one from Singapore and one from Adelaide, Australia. We took turns jumping up to go outside in the rain to take pictures. We are going to Adelaide in December, and they were on their way to Queenstown so we swapped restaurant recommendations for each.

On the Taieri Gorge rail trip we chatted with a retired sheep farming couple with whom we swapped seats on the way back down so we could both see both sides. The wife was keen to tell us about New Zealand. I asked her husband some things I’d been wondering about sheep farming, like, how do you get those sheep way down the cliff back to the farm?

When we stopped at the Moeraki Boulders, we chatted with a native New Zealander, married to a Canadian, who both live in Australia.

 

Andy is really good at striking up conversations with strangers. We had a nice time getting to know people along the way, but we also had a great time sharing our experiences together. I was glad to have someone with whom to share the awe and wonder.

You get a lot of “bang for your buck” in New Zealand – there is so much to see and do in a relatively small amount of space (and literally, the US dollar exchange is pretty good too). I love living in Australia and am happy I'm here, but New Zealand is a very special place unlike any other place I've ever been.

New Zealand Birds

All of our bird pictures seem to come from the South Island. On the train ride through the North Island, Ann saw about five Kokakos but could never get a picture of them. We also saw a few pheasants up north. (Apparently pheasants like foraging adjacent to train tracks, as we last saw them while taking a train from Brussels to Paris. Those pheasants get around. They are also the State Bird of that exotic locale known as South Dakota.)

We first saw one of our favorite birds, the Pukeko, while on a walk in Auckland. Our friends Alan and Dawn and their dogs were taking us on an evening stroll. Pukekos are found in most pastures all across the country. This we first found out when one of our canine companions went off trail and into a pasture where Pukekos were nesting. This required some quick dog retrieval, as Pukekos nest on the ground, and in the evolutionary tradition of many NZ birds they are relatively flightless.

The fellow below greeted us quite long and loudly as we made our first walk through the Queenstown Gardens. It was early evening, and quite cold, but the warmth of his call and antics just a few feet away held us in place.

Eurasian Blackbird, Queenstown Gardens

Parrot, poster in the Kiwi Bird Center

The "nationally vulnerable" Australasian Crested Grebe on Queenstown Lake Cruise

One bird we did not stop for was the Muttonbird. They may be hunted only by the Maori, as a traditional food source. There is apparently some degree of commercial marketing though, as they were available on special at a small fish and chips stand by the lake.

The Kea, joining us on our bus to Milford Sound

Our bus driver said she was going to stay with the bus while we explored the sights because she said the Kea will chew the rubber off the windshield wipers and anything else they can get their beaks on. Kea are the world's only alpine parrot. They're omnivores and are known to be quite aggressive when seeking out food, much like bears are in Yellowstone. They pranced around all the tour buses, putting on quite the show for the photographers. They seem very intelligent.

Fiordland Crested Penguin, Milford Sound

New Zealand Moa, downtown Queenstown

Extinct Moa with the plentiful Chaffinch

Yellowhammer, not to be confused with the famous Mohua (2013 NZ Bird of the Year)

Black-billed Gull who ate in one gulp our dropped french fry in Te Anau

Tui, performing for us in Te Anau

The Tui's call is fascinating. We took a couple videos of blurry tree branches and captured a bit of their call, but here is a link to a professionally recorded one that is much better.

We are now back at the home nest, and the familiar morning warble of our magpies.

University of Otago, Dunedin

Dunedin is built on the remnants of an extinct volcano

Our last morning in New Zealand was spent in the town of Dunedin, population 126,000. Students at the University of Otago (NZ's oldest university) make up almost 1/5 of the population. We ventured out for a walk around the campus before our four hour drive to Christchurch. As soon as we stepped on campus, I was taken by it. First of all, a creek runs through it, just like Chico State! Chico's campus is a bit more natural, and Otago is more stately.

Public art on campus

We were told that the main administration building, the oldest one on campus, has been used as a film stand-in for Harvard because apparently it's cheaper to fly to New Zealand to film than at Harvard.

Registry Building (our Kendall Hall)

Within minutes on campus, I told Andy, "Let's find the education department and see if I can come back here." After a pleasant bit of a map hunt around campus, we found the College of Education. I walked in and asked if there was someone I could talk to about a professor exchange. The women at the reception desk acted a bit surprised and said they would go check. They apparently had called the Associate Dean from morning tea, and Dr. Jacques van de Meer was very gracious to have a chat with us.
It was a great conversation. Andy and I gushed about our trip across New Zealand. Jacques told us about the teacher education program and also about Maori culture in general. We discussed how they consider New Zealand bi-cultural. There is the Maori culture and then there is all other cultures. (This is very different from the US!) Even though Maori make up only about 17% of the population, the policies and practices of New Zealand consistently put Maori culture at the center of all. Maori are recognized as the original owners of the land and respect is paid on a regular basis both in substance and form.
Before we left, we agreed to keep in touch and discuss any opportunities to collaborate or return for a study visit some time in the future. (It's never too early to start planning my next sabbatical!!) Jacques also encouraged Andy about opportunities for him to learn about restorative justice when/if we return. Just another example of Kiwi hospitality.

"Hello. Do you have professor exchanges here?"