Story Weekend

Nathan and I went to Wanaka this weekend to stay with Shane and his wife, Helen. Shane’s a faculty member in the Department. Like many faculty, he keeps a second home in Central Otago. We drove up in his subaru station wagon (feeling very much at home in the car) and stayed in their home. People have told me how COLD Kiwi homes could be, and they were certainly right! I slept in my wool cap, with 4 layers (undershirt, long t-shirt, sweater, and fleece) under two down comforters. Getting dressed was a hurried hopping around affair. A “heat pump” and fireplace were used to heat the living room, where we snuggled for much of the time. Nathan skied Treble Cone, the most advanced area in the region, while Shane, Helen and I swapped stories. Here were my favorites from Shane:

  •  At Maori funerals people are given the opportunity to have the last word. They stand up and speak directly to the deceased, airing complaints and feuds or expressing their sorrow. As the language is now written, people have taken to including in their wills a list of people who are NOT to be allowed to speak at their funerals. So in Shane’s town one of the radical lesbian feminists has a long list of men who may not speak at her funeral. These men don’t know they’re on the list, and are eagerly waiting the chance to have the last word in their ongoing disputes with her.

  •  Shane and Helen were foster parents in the early years of their marriage. A 10-year-old “pakeha” (European) boy came into their home because his parents were neglecting and abusing him. They set out a typical Maori feast of mussles, oysters, mutton birds and other “acquired tastes,” and the little boy gobbled them right up. Shane was amazed! Most European kids balk at this kind of fare. When he asked, the kid said he was used to eating this kind of food because his Maori neighbors fed him each night. Shane knew the neighbors, and when he checked, they said yes, they took a plate of Maori food each night so the poor kid wouldn’t starve.

  •  Another foster care story - One Christmas they had 10 boys fostering in their home and no money for presents. They had just used the last of their money to pay the mortgage on the house. One morning, about 3 days before Christmas, they found an envelope in the mailbox with $1000 in it.

We had a fun weekend - lots of conversation and wonderful food. Nathan enjoyed the skiing, and is now in Queenstown toodling around. On the return drive we went through a town called Ranfuerol and bought some of the best ice cream I've ever had! Still, it was good to get back to the relative warmth of the coast and Knox College was toasty warm.

This week work begins in earnest -my “dance card” is pretty full of meetings and lunches but I'm hoping to get in a yoga class or two...

Ariana’s starting her job at Utah’s debate camp. I finished reading Mister Pip and am eager to talk with her about it.

Amanda Barusch

Amanda Barusch has worked as a janitor, exotic dancer, editor, and college professor. She lives in the American West, where she spends as much time as possible on dirt paths. She has an abiding disdain for boundaries and adores ambiguity. Amanda has published eight books of non-fiction, a few poems, and a growing number of short stories. Aging Angry is her first work of creative non-fiction. She uses magical realism to explore deep truths of the human experience in this rapidly changing world.

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Death and Funerals

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Words, Words, Upside-down Words