<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170</id><updated>2011-08-01T15:31:52.783-07:00</updated><category term='white-water rafting'/><category term='volunteer'/><category term='glowworm'/><category term='Australia'/><category term='adventure'/><category term='travel'/><category term='depletion'/><category term='water'/><category term='tramping'/><category term='caves'/><category term='black water rafting'/><category term='planting'/><category term='ownership'/><category term='petrel'/><category term='airports'/><category term='Conservation Volunteers'/><category term='community'/><category term='New Zealand'/><category term='ozone'/><category term='ISV'/><category term='punakaiki'/><category term='packing'/><category term='Rotorua'/><title type='text'>The Earth Project</title><subtitle type='html'>A blog of experiencing the Earth. Travel. Volunteering. Environmental Initiatives. The experience.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>40</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-8861009715050157489</id><published>2009-06-28T10:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T10:25:48.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Now What?</title><content type='html'>Well, it has been two weeks since I said farewell to my New Zealand family. And ya know, it was one of the hardest goodbyes I have had. You spend 24/7 for a month straight with these p&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SkenegbkV3I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/2yGGTL-eFIM/s1600-h/DSC01833.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 222px; height: 166px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SkenegbkV3I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/2yGGTL-eFIM/s320/DSC01833.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352430824696600434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;eople and just like that you never see them. I think the hardest part is that we all live scattered throughout North America, so the chances of us seeing each other are pretty slim...and that's a tough reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the plus side, I now have fantastic friends all over the country and Canada, and together, we know so much now about a country overseas. Sure we know a thing or two about our country and how we work, but to say you know more than a thing or two about another country far away says something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But with all the going, going, going that we did in NZ, I knew coming home was going to be completely different. For one, I am not with people at every waking moment so there is actually some down time. Two, I am not partaking in any environmental initiatives at this point in time, which is killing me. And three, I am not doing any crazy activities, like bungy jumping. What a drastic change. Not only that, but it is whole new thing not living in the same four outfits anymore. I came home to a room filled with clothes and just started going through things that I could sell or give to reuse stores. But going through everything has given me...WASTE ANXIETY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at all the STUFF that I have and think about perhaps all that I actually use, they don't equal up. But I am not the only one. Everyone throughout this country goes through tons and tons of clothing throughout their lifetime, and where does it all go?! Surely it is not biodegradable fabric, so it doesn't break down. There are those people who send to reuse stores in hopes that it will actually get reused, but I know that a good majority of people just as easily toss them in the garbage when they have had enough. Garbage means landfill. Landfill means land. Land means habitat. And habitat means something is people taken away from the little untouched land some of these animals have left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, my friends, that bit of rambling is WASTE ANXIETY. Not something that gets to everyone, but I have it and I am on a track to counter it, be it sending old clothes to reuse stores, or giving them to younger family friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if I would have this or think this way if I hadn't gone to NZ...I am going to go with no. Thanks NZ. You're an eye opener.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-8861009715050157489?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8861009715050157489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/now-what.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/8861009715050157489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/8861009715050157489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/now-what.html' title='Now What?'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SkenegbkV3I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/2yGGTL-eFIM/s72-c/DSC01833.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-3619949384406023187</id><published>2009-06-15T22:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T22:55:33.740-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='glowworm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='caves'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='black water rafting'/><title type='text'>The Last Hoorah</title><content type='html'>So, we traveled to Waitomo, our final destination in New Zealand. People started getting hard to look at, since we would soon be saying our goodbyes, but besides that bit of pain, there was happiness. We had one more day to spend exploring this amazing country and we were going to make the best of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:30 am on Thursday, eight of us left to embark n our final activity for the adventure tour: BLACK WATER RAFTING!! It was an early morning, but we all had no doubts that it was going to be outstanding. Well, we were right. We got to The Legendary Black Water Rafting Company and geared up for our next five hours underground. Once again, wetsuits, thermals, booties, wetsuit jackets, and cave boots. After getting ourselves situated, we got into our harnesses and grabbed our helme&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjcxfDI7-aI/AAAAAAAAAIA/L8Gt7Fe7quQ/s1600-h/BWR2-11-06-09-8am-Emma%2BJosh+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjcxfDI7-aI/AAAAAAAAAIA/L8Gt7Fe7quQ/s320/BWR2-11-06-09-8am-Emma%2BJosh+008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347797492014250402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ts, snapped a jumping picture, and we were off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we could go down, we needed to learn how to repel. So, we did a real quick course on how to repel and just like that it was time to go 70+ meters below the surface to start the cave tour of the glow worm caves. The repelling was amazing, through a small shaft down to the abyss. After we all got to the bottom, we followed our guide over a grate, that ended quite abruptly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Turn your headlamps off," our guide told us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uhhhhhhh...I was first. I was the one standing there with my twos hanging over the end of the grate peering into the black in front of me. We turned them off and I was again hooked up to a cable. Just like that I was zooming through the pitch-black, peering ahead of me into the abyss. A quick stop later and I was to another section of the cave. I turned my headlamp on and I had just zip lined in a cave! One by one the rest of my group went and one by one we were in awe of this amazing, hidden treasure deep below the earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all sat, feet dangling over a rock edge, with a cookie and cup of cocoa in our hands. It reminded me of smoko when we were at the volunteer site. After we were finished with our cocoa, and finished deciding whether or not that was water below us, we were each given a black tube and one by one jumped. Yup, it's water. Thank the Lord. I was first as we followed our guide, led by a rope on the cavern wall. We looked all around us at the setting we were in and just couldn't believe our eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point, we turned around, linked ourselves to one another, turned our headlamps off, and just watched above us, as our guide pulled us back to where we jumped. What I saw was unlike anything I had seen during the trip. I just sat there, warm in my wetsuit, starring and thanking everything and everyone in my head that I was there. The glowworms were beautiful. It's quite ironic though, because glowworms are actually not worms at all, rather fly maggots. And the things we see glowing are actually their feces at their tail end that secrete a chemical that glows. How beautiful that maggot feces was. It looked like stars in the sky, except they were sometimes in reach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After getting rid of our tubes, we started trudging through the water, into shallow areas and deep pools. We crawled &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sjczp3qV3YI/AAAAAAAAAII/lHGxUA-EA1o/s1600-h/BWR2-11-06-09-8am-Emma%2BJosh+018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sjczp3qV3YI/AAAAAAAAAII/lHGxUA-EA1o/s320/BWR2-11-06-09-8am-Emma%2BJosh+018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347799876934950274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;through tiny holes on our stomachs and under hangovers with only enough room for our heads. After taking another smoko [!!!] it was time to climb some underground waterfalls. No harnesses, just climb. It was fantastic. After five hours of peering through the abyss, 70 meters underground, the trip was over and we had to head home. It was the perfect amount of time and the perfect way to end the trip. We had the day left to pack and spend with friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night, we had a big celebration down the road. We were celebrating all of the work we accomplished at our volunteer sites, a mere two weeks before. We were celebrating the new friendships we had made all throughout the trip. We were celebrating memories that we would never forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that, ISV New Zealand 2009 was over. Finished. Complete. I had been successful with my volunteer work and successful in truly experiencing NZ for all it was worth. I&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-3619949384406023187?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3619949384406023187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/last-hoorah.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/3619949384406023187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/3619949384406023187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/last-hoorah.html' title='The Last Hoorah'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjcxfDI7-aI/AAAAAAAAAIA/L8Gt7Fe7quQ/s72-c/BWR2-11-06-09-8am-Emma%2BJosh+008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-363878303183560358</id><published>2009-06-13T02:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T02:42:52.737-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Giant Hamster Ball Anyone?</title><content type='html'>After visiting the Kiwi Encounter, we ventured another 20 minutes down the road to partake in another fun activity. Ok so it wasn't a community planting day, visiting my old volunteer site, or learning about kiwi, but by God was it a riot. We went ZORBING!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNzl5xSAmI/AAAAAAAAAHw/-hdUodK_Tww/s1600-h/IMG_1021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNzl5xSAmI/AAAAAAAAAHw/-hdUodK_Tww/s320/IMG_1021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346744277618786914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for those of you who don't know what zorbing is [and most probably won't] it is essentially this enormous ball, filled with a little water, that you get in and roll down a hill! Can you say fun?! I think I can! Two at a time we went and two at a time we laughed and giggled as we fell all over each other in, well, a gi&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNz-BI_S9I/AAAAAAAAAH4/8BUq1trUtFA/s1600-h/IMG_1030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNz-BI_S9I/AAAAAAAAAH4/8BUq1trUtFA/s320/IMG_1030.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346744691914132434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ant hamster ball. Heather and I went together and boy did I have a blast. Another one of the amazing things invented here in NZ. [I swear there are so many genius's here, it isn't funny nor fair.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Others could even lay down on the hill as you ran over them with the ball! We got to run over Jono, which we didn't find out until after, but it was tons of fun. Unfortunaly, we only got to go down once, but boy if I ever got the chance to do it again, I would...over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if you are ever in NZ...ZORB. There isn't anything like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-363878303183560358?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/363878303183560358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/giant-hamster-ball-anyone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/363878303183560358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/363878303183560358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/giant-hamster-ball-anyone.html' title='Giant Hamster Ball Anyone?'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNzl5xSAmI/AAAAAAAAAHw/-hdUodK_Tww/s72-c/IMG_1021.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-139800319180668841</id><published>2009-06-13T02:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T02:29:14.961-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whiturau..My Little Kiwi</title><content type='html'>With the smell of sulfur a thing of the past, we headed to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Waitomo&lt;/span&gt;, eager for our next activities but sad that we had a mere two days left with volunteers from across North America. The travel day was anything but boring though. Katie and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Jono&lt;/span&gt; made sure that every long travel day we had was broken up by visiting natural habitats, national parks, heritage points, and quaint towns, but this days stops by far topped them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our first stop was the Kiwi Encounter. Besides the fruit and besides that fact that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;NZers&lt;/span&gt; are referred to as kiwis, the kiwi is New &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Zealand's&lt;/span&gt; national bird. It is a medium sized, &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNwzzYImzI/AAAAAAAAAHg/0jKqdydQpLk/s1600-h/-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 125px; height: 166px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNwzzYImzI/AAAAAAAAAHg/0jKqdydQpLk/s320/-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346741217885985586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;nocturnal bird that is seen on anything and everything NZ. It is one of many flightless birds found in this fantastic habitat. The unfortunate news, however, is that the kiwi are endangered. Just imagine having a part of your national identity being threatened by extinction. It is something that cuts deep into the heart of all those in NZ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the Maori people were originally the only ones to live on the islands, they kiwi thrived. They had no land predators and as a result there was never an idea that the bird could be threatened. It was the arrival of the Europeans that brought the problems for the kiwi. The addition of livestock and other land animals took the habitats and the life from these precious little birds. The most threatening ones were the dogs and the much hated animal in NZ: the stoat. The stoat was brought over to control the rapidly growing rabbit population [also caused by European introduction]. The stoat's specialty? The kiwi egg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kiwi are unique in the fact that the size of the egg they lay is the biggest in relation to their body size. We found out it would be the equivalent of a human having a 35 lb child! Yeah. Not feeling that. In any case, the kiwi egg was and is the stoat's specialty. After the female kiwi lays her egg, it is the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;male's&lt;/span&gt; job to sit on the egg until it hatches. Originally, the male might leave the egg to go get food and know the egg would be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; since the kiwi had no predators. When the stoat was brought over, the same practice was carried on by the male, but this time with negative results. The stoat will wait up to three weeks waiting for the male to move, so that it can have its meal! Not cool stoats, not cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have seen stoat traps all over NZ trying to rid the land of this harmful predator to their native, national bird, but the kiwi are still endangered and are still being harmed. Their numbers are lingering and only 5% of their eggs survive. Clearly, these poor birds were in need of help. That's where places like the Kiwi Encounter come into play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to take a tour of their facilities and see just what exactly they do to help. After the eggs are laid, the kiwi encounter goes around and retrieves the eggs once the males have left. They &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNxNMquEFI/AAAAAAAAAHo/pkfKznSbd5I/s1600-h/-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 221px; height: 166px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNxNMquEFI/AAAAAAAAAHo/pkfKznSbd5I/s400/-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346741654171553874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;bring them back to their base where they care for the kiwi from when it hatches until it turns 6 months. The kiwi are most vulnerable during that period. They are cared for with little human contact and at the end of that period are released back into the wild where they are able to defend themselves. The Kiwi Encounter relies completely on donations, so clearly people are getting the picture. It costs them nearly $5000 to do this for each kiwi. That's a lot of money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were able to raise a sum of money between all of us to sponsor a kiwi. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Whiturau&lt;/span&gt; is its name and he or she is going to be released back into the wild on the 16&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Whiturau&lt;/span&gt; was found on Maori land, so when it gets released, there will be an enormous Maori celebration for it. Wish we could be there, but unfortunately we are back in our homelands then. We can &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;still&lt;/span&gt; say, however, that we helped the national bird while we were there, and gave it another chance at life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to you little kiwi. Cheers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-139800319180668841?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/139800319180668841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/whituraumy-little-kiwi.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/139800319180668841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/139800319180668841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/whituraumy-little-kiwi.html' title='Whiturau..My Little Kiwi'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNwzzYImzI/AAAAAAAAAHg/0jKqdydQpLk/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-3372794940823096189</id><published>2009-06-13T01:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T02:04:34.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hell's Gate</title><content type='html'>Rafting took a lot out of us and we were really looking forward to our next day where we would not only get to relax, but see even more &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNrL-qyJKI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/p85CRdnEeEk/s1600-h/DSC03195.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNrL-qyJKI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/p85CRdnEeEk/s320/DSC03195.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346735036164088994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;NZ's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; unique landscape. Over we went to Hell's Gate, a thermal reserve with mud baths and spas. It was a little drizzly that day, but it surely didn't cool them down. We got a tour of the reserve and found out that some of the geothermal pools were over 90 degrees Celsius! Now that's what I call hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason for such amounts of this type of activity is due to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;NZ's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; tectonic plate motion. NZ rests above the edge of the Pacific Plate and the Australian Plate. As a result of the plates colliding with each other, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;NZ's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; south island has the Southern Alps and it's north island has high amounts of volcanic activity. The thermal reserve is just one example of how the plate movement is severely affecting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;NZ's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; geography. It's really interesting stuff!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we got our chance to take a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;te&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNrjeWiOAI/AAAAAAAAAHY/ZXEch0xORCY/s1600-h/DSC03220.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNrjeWiOAI/AAAAAAAAAHY/ZXEch0xORCY/s200/DSC03220.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346735439806085122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;st of the mud baths and spas, we headed out to the bus to head back to the Kiwi &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Paka&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, where we were staying. And what should we see when leaving Hell's Gate but three enormous [and beautiful] peacocks just hanging out on the fence. A few of us went outside to take  pictures and they didn't even move. It was just awe-inspiring how many natural things surprise me about this place. It doesn't matter if we are in a commercial area or not, the natural aspects of this country draw your attention away from whatever we get ourselves wrapped up in. It makes me wonder how I look and treat my own natural environment in my town at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With this in mind, we spent the rest of the day just enjoying the area and each others company and got ready for our last day of travel to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Waitomo&lt;/span&gt;, our last stop for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ISV&lt;/span&gt; 2009&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-3372794940823096189?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3372794940823096189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/hells-gate.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/3372794940823096189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/3372794940823096189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/hells-gate.html' title='Hell&apos;s Gate'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNrL-qyJKI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/p85CRdnEeEk/s72-c/DSC03195.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-5057234638976098300</id><published>2009-06-12T13:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T01:46:59.324-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rotorua'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='white-water rafting'/><title type='text'>Cowabunga!</title><content type='html'>After our outstanding gumboot throwing contest and getting to take in the views of the Tongariro National Park and World Heritage Area on our way, the next day in Rotorua was one full of excitement. We headed to the Kaituna River to brave the cold waters and rapids for some white-water rafting!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We would go in two groups, in boats of six people. We watched as the first group went down their rapids, yell at their first touch of the cold water, and drop down the seven meter waterfall at the end. Minus the fact that a few mates went overboard at the last waterfall, all of us in the second group just could not wait to get our hands on an oar and gear up for our own adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The groups came back and as they shed their wetsuits, it was o&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNlzT-IgQI/AAAAAAAAAG4/FV37nY56Lrk/s1600-h/KC7_1320.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 363px; height: 243px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNlzT-IgQI/AAAAAAAAAG4/FV37nY56Lrk/s400/KC7_1320.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346729114827522306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ur turn to get geared up and head out to be trained super quickly about rafting. The one drawback about waiting was that we had to wear already wet wetsuits, but hey we were going rafting, we were going to get wet anyway. So off we went. Bathing suit. Wetsuit. Thermals. Leopard print fleece [yes I just said leopard print]. Waterproof coat. Booties. Life vest. Helmet. Oar in hand I was set to go on my next adventure. We walked down to the water edge and got the 411 on how to paddle, how to adjust ourselves for the waterfalls we would go down, and what commands to listen for. And just like that, we were off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My guide was great, continuing the tradition I have had of having an incredibly knowledgeable and fun-loving guide for whatever I have been doing in NZ. He told us the most important thing was to have fun. Yes, I do believe that goal was accomplished. We went down the rapids, rowing forward and back, bracing ourselves for falls. Every time we would go down one we would clank our oars together, high above us and yell some battle words. We weren't really battling the waterfalls, but it made us feel brave anyway. That first drop was a chilly one. Sitting in the front of the boat with my friend Lee, we basically got dunked under a small fall. It came as a shock due to the cold, but it was not that bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we saw it. T&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNm3x40DfI/AAAAAAAAAHI/5IC9_drVZ4w/s1600-h/KC7_1274.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNm3x40DfI/AAAAAAAAAHI/5IC9_drVZ4w/s320/KC7_1274.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346730291089378802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;he seven meter waterfall, right ahead of us, the one we had seen a few minutes ago fall out of their raft, and an entire raft flip, but we were determined. With oars in the air, we yelled "COWABUNGA!" and went off to conquer the rapids. Listening to our guide make his calls, we tucked our bodies in the boat, held on to the sides for dear life and put our heads down to brace the impact. Done. What?! No flipping?! Everyone's still in the boat? Fantastic. We drew our oars up in the air as almost a celebration for not flipping. We all ended up jumping in [or getting thrown in] anyway with our wetsuits and life vests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My guide even let me be captain for a bit! I was making calls and steering to the best of my ability. When all was said and done, I was asked to participate in a familiar activity: cliff jumping! My favorite pastime in Ithaca, NY, so why wouldn't I want to say I did it in the great NZ? In we went, once again in our wetsuits, and with that, rafting was complete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again it was another incredible activity on ISV's adventure tour. Yet another one I have never done before and one I'll never forget. I continuously find it astonishing how NZ has so many fascinating areas to discover, tucked away in small towns and hidden like buried treasure. No matter what you do here, you end up with a ridiculous amounts of candids and a handful of memories.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-5057234638976098300?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5057234638976098300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/cowabunga.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/5057234638976098300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/5057234638976098300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/cowabunga.html' title='Cowabunga!'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjNlzT-IgQI/AAAAAAAAAG4/FV37nY56Lrk/s72-c/KC7_1320.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-9069889423202776526</id><published>2009-06-11T18:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T18:10:29.552-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gumboot "Stadium"</title><content type='html'>To Rotorua we went on Sunday. It was a long travel day for all of us, after having been living large in the big city for a few days. We took tons of stops along the way, which was nice for some us, but you could tell some were getting ornery as the trip lagged on. My favorite stop though, and I am sure everyone thought the same was the gumboot throwing contest. Now as you may recall, gumboots and simply rainboots and one would traditionally use them to, well I don’t know, maybe…wear! Not this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The entire trip, Katie and Jono, our fearless leaders, had been telling us that there was a couple hundred thousand dollar gumboot throwing stadium on our drive to Rotorua. Some were skeptical about it, but others, like me, couldn’t wait to see what all the fuss was about at the stadium. Well needless to say, it was not a stadium. It was just a small plot of land, with tall fences on either side. As we gathered around, Katie and Jono demonstrated to us how to throw a gumboot. Ummm….they&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjGq8WWr8CI/AAAAAAAAAGw/yDFdrrf8R-U/s1600-h/DSC02990.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjGq8WWr8CI/AAAAAAAAAGw/yDFdrrf8R-U/s400/DSC02990.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346242186435096610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; were siting on the bus too long, that must be why one or two may have gone our of the fences. Then it was our turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all took our turns, as gumboots went every way except the way they were supposed to go. One flew backwards, one almost took of a head, one didn’t even make it past the start line, and mine, well…it may or may not have gone really far over the side of the fence. At the end, awards were given out for farthest thrown and most stylish throw. I was not a winner, but I stayed strong and didn’t let it get me down too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, a day long bus ride and one Lord of the Rings movie over, we made it to our destination: sulfur-smelling Rotorua, or RotoVegas as Jono called it. I must say it was an interesting place. Stores seemed to close rather early, like 6 pm, and some people weren’t to friendly, but I suppose that’s anywhere you go. The night was left to our exploration and some much needed rest for what the next day would bring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-9069889423202776526?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/9069889423202776526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/gumboot-stadium.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/9069889423202776526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/9069889423202776526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/gumboot-stadium.html' title='The Gumboot &quot;Stadium&quot;'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjGq8WWr8CI/AAAAAAAAAGw/yDFdrrf8R-U/s72-c/DSC02990.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-5502228647518426501</id><published>2009-06-11T18:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T18:08:25.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>City of Fun</title><content type='html'>And just as we began to found new bonds, new memories, and conquered fears we didn’t even know we had, week three of ISV New Zealand was over. As our adrenaline began to slow and the ferry came to a stop, we headed off to Wellington to continue our final week of adventure tour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The north island greeted us with a bang. Wellington was a city, and a pretty fun one at that. Even the hostel was amazing! Multiple times throughout our trip we have stayed at hostels that were apart of the Youth Hostel Association of New Zealand. They have always been fantastic, but I would have to say that up to this point Wellington’s hostel is my favorite. The building was enormous, with huge kitchens, a theater style movie room, tons of movies, people from all walks of life, and a staff ever willing to book us on tours or trips while we were there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps most impressive about these hostels particularly were their commitment to becoming a more sustainable living community for its visitors. Recycle bins everywhere. Buckets for food scraps in the kitchens. Heat that is set to warm on only certain parts of the day so that not a ton of energy is wasted heating the rooms while it’s guests aren’t there. They even use a system that takes the heat from the water being used in showers to partially heat the new warm water coming in. It takes less energy to heat semi-warm water. Every staff member wore t-shirts that talked about the hostels and NZ’s commitment to a more green future, and I honestly felt really good seeing that. One of the other hostels we went to had buckets where their guests could help sponsor a new hostel going up, that would be completely sustainable. Awesome stuff!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But aside from the outstanding hostel, Wellington was another city with tons of things to do. After a night on the town, Saturday brought about some pretty fun activities. Our first stop in the morning was Te Papa, New Zealand’s national museum! It was probably the most interactive and charming museum I have ever seen. It had all the potential to be a children’s giant play room but it was one for all ages. People young and old filled its walls to read, listen, and look about New Zealands culture and origins. Enormous squid preserved in a glass. Large intact whale skeleton hanging above, which the museums walls were actually built around [!]. There was even a life size replica of a blue whale’s heart. This thing was about my height, with arteries big enough for me to crawl through! It was unreal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te Papa even had some “rides” for its visitors to go on. On was an educational simulator, simulating you going into a submarine and venturing deep into the ocean abyss to find underwater volcanoes. The second was a bumpy simulator in front of an enormous screen showing you tons of things that make up NZ. It’s kind of hard to explain, but you will just have to trust me on this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Te Papa a group of us headed out to get breakfast for lunch, walked around and peeked in some stores, then five of us went to the Wellin&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjGqU4zewLI/AAAAAAAAAGo/xiuboDfEjpk/s1600-h/DSC02962.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjGqU4zewLI/AAAAAAAAAGo/xiuboDfEjpk/s400/DSC02962.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346241508487905458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;gton “bungy.” No it wasn’t bungy jumping off a building in the city, it was a ride where three people sat in seats that together resembled a big ball, then as the bungy wires attached to the ball were stretched, the lever let go and we were shot up into the air, spinning and bouncing up and down. It was just myself and two new adventure tour friends, Marshall and Charlie, who did it, with Erica and Chase filming it all. It was a lot of fun, but we all commented on how we weren’t used to going up in an adrenaline activity. HA hey there’s a first for everything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From there we headed to go see NZ Parliament. The interesting thing about their parliament is that they have hourly tours and anyone can just go and walk around to see the inside. I have never heard of something like that so we thought it might be something cool to try. Unfortunately, we got there too late for tours, but we still got to see the building. From there it was another night of rest before our travel day in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, Wellington was outstanding. Tons to do and I even tried Indian food for the first time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-5502228647518426501?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5502228647518426501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/city-of-fun.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/5502228647518426501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/5502228647518426501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/city-of-fun.html' title='City of Fun'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SjGqU4zewLI/AAAAAAAAAGo/xiuboDfEjpk/s72-c/DSC02962.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-7901531779636953938</id><published>2009-06-07T22:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T23:08:13.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'>13,000 ft Above Gorgeous</title><content type='html'>Nelson, NZ. Our destination for Wednesday night,. After unloading our stuff and getting roomed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;with&lt;/span&gt; the most ridiculous people &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ever&lt;/span&gt; [in a good way of course] we met in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; lounge of our hostel to talk about tomorrow's activity: SKYDIVING! We signed our lives away and it was set. Tomorrow was the day. We would put on a jumpsuit, strap on a harness, and jump from a plane, flying through the clouds above one of the most beautiful landscapes in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:30 am. Pick up time. Everyone else in my room had gotten up for a 6 am pick-up, so an hour and a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;half&lt;/span&gt; later, it was just me getting ready and mentally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;prepared&lt;/span&gt; for what would be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;happening&lt;/span&gt; in the nest few hours. Loaded into a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;caravan&lt;/span&gt;, that resembled the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;CVNZ&lt;/span&gt; one, we drove off to Abel Tasman Skydiving, in Nelson, NZ where we would "Jump the Five," mountains, two national parks, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Motueka&lt;/span&gt; River, golden Beaches and oceans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as I got there, I saw some of the group from 6 am raving about how unreal of an experience it was. After the first group from my time went, my name was called and it was my turn to get geared up and meet my tandem skydiving partner [clearly I was not doing this alone]. Jumpsuit. Harness. Hat. Goggles. Gloves. Ready to go. I finished getting ready as I watched a few guys packing chutes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;behind&lt;/span&gt; me. Makes you feel good when you actually see the person packing it. I crossed my fingers and hoped he did it right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I headed out to the front lawn to watch the first group jump. You could barely see them as they jumped and it just kept getting me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;more&lt;/span&gt; and more excited about what I would be doing as soon as they landed. After their feet hit the ground, a camera-guy ran over to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you Becky?!" he asked with an intense amount of enthusiasm.&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, that's me!"&lt;br /&gt;"Sweet as, come with me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He started filming me and asking me what I was doing, what I was thinking, and if I had any comments for my friends and family &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;back&lt;/span&gt; home. &lt;em&gt;Go big or go home&lt;/em&gt; just popped into my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;head&lt;/span&gt; so I said it. With that I met my tandem partner. He introduced himself, checked my harness, and gave me the 411 about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;what&lt;/span&gt; to exp&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;ect&lt;/span&gt; when jumping and how to do it. With that, it was time. With a camera following my every move, I hopped onto the plane and we were off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were three jumpers, three tandem partners, and two camera-guys crammed into this little plane. Nice and cozy. The ride was amazing: a 20-minute flight up and up and up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;above&lt;/span&gt; that which is amazing NZ. Every so often, my tandem partner would strap up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;part&lt;/span&gt; of my harness to his and show me his altimeter to show me how far up we were: 2,000 feet, 5,000 feet, 7,000 feet, 11,000 feet, 12,000 feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Strap your hat on. We are getting ready!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ON went my extremely stylish hat/helmet thing. At 13,000 feet, the door of the plane opened to the right of me. I was first. My camera-guy was first. He hopped onto the bar outside the plane to film my jump. Then out went my feet. My butt. Then my entire body was hanging out of the plane, as my tandem, [partner sat on the edge holding us up. One rock. Two rock. And we were out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was unbelievable. A few &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;flips&lt;/span&gt; at first and then 50 seconds of free-fall. I kept putting my head down because all I wanted to do was see the amazing landscape below me. You could see it all. No &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;wonder&lt;/span&gt; they call it jumping the five. Every so often my tandem partner would lift my head up for the camera so I could get pics while in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;air&lt;/span&gt;. After 50 seconds, the chute was pulled and the camera-guy became a little dot. With that, I had five minutes of parachute falling and then we were going in to land. A&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; just as soon as it started, it was done. Once again the adrenaline was pumping. It's funny though, I can't really compare it to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;bungy&lt;/span&gt; jumping. They are so different, but both outstanding and I cannot wait until I get to do it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After leaving the skydiving place, we headed back to the hostel just to get picked up right away for our next &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;activity&lt;/span&gt;: QUAD BIKING!! We headed over to Happy Valley, where I sat on a quad, driving for the first time ever! It was awesome. I found that out I am a bit of a speed junkie, which made riding a whole lot more fun and Zane, who was my riding partner, had just that same amount of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that, Thursday was over and so was our tour of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;NZ's&lt;/span&gt; south island. We woke up this morning ready to take on the north island, our last week on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;ISV&lt;/span&gt; adventure tour and our last week of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;ISV&lt;/span&gt; all together. We sat in the bar of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Interislander&lt;/span&gt;, the NZ ferry in between islands, watching a hockey game, and getting ourselves stoked for what this next week would bring. National museums, white-water rafting, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;zorbing&lt;/span&gt;, black-water rafting, glow worm caves, Maori ceremonies, and a final week of memories with my new friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-7901531779636953938?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7901531779636953938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/13000-ft-above-gorgeous.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/7901531779636953938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/7901531779636953938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/13000-ft-above-gorgeous.html' title='13,000 ft Above Gorgeous'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-7219177412751815427</id><published>2009-06-07T01:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T01:44:54.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Homebase</title><content type='html'>When I say things keep on getting better, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; sincerely mean it. After a full day of glacier hiking, we hopped back on the bus for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;another&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;day&lt;/span&gt; of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;travel&lt;/span&gt; to our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;next&lt;/span&gt; destination. Up the west coast we went &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;again&lt;/span&gt;. But this time, what we were seeing seemed oddly familiar. Sitting on the bus, we were passing coastline on our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;left&lt;/span&gt; and a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;dense&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;rainforest&lt;/span&gt; on our right, and it just felt right being there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I feel at home here," Heather said.&lt;br /&gt;And I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; agree more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It did feel like home, because this was the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;place&lt;/span&gt; we had started our amazing experience. To the left a coastline, to the rig&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;ht&lt;/span&gt; a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;rainforest&lt;/span&gt;. We were heading straight for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Punakaiki&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; be happier. All throughout our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;first&lt;/span&gt; two weeks volunteering, we knew we would at some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;point&lt;/span&gt; be passing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Punakaiki&lt;/span&gt; for a short amount of time so that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;everyone&lt;/span&gt; else on the adventure &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;tour&lt;/span&gt; could experience the pancake rocks. We had seen them &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;countless&lt;/span&gt; times &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;when&lt;/span&gt; were living in the small town, so we decided that instead of visiting them once again, we would revisit our starting ground, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Punakaiki&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Coastal&lt;/span&gt; Restoration Site and the gang we got so close to there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were on a tight &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;schedule&lt;/span&gt; though. A mere half hour we were spending at the pancake rocks. We hoped we might get the chance to be dropped off at the site, but due to the tight schedule there was just no way. I had been emailing Sam back and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;forth all&lt;/span&gt; week about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;visiting&lt;/span&gt;, but even after &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;his&lt;/span&gt;"I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;better&lt;/span&gt; see you or I'll &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;come&lt;/span&gt; and find you" lines in emails, it was looking like we weren't going to see them. Bummer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, entering this place that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;felt&lt;/span&gt; like home not only felt food to be there, but a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;litter&lt;/span&gt; sad that we were so close to the site and people there, yet so far it seemed. Parked in front of the pancake rocks, off the bus, and sulking on the sidewalk. Until...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look there!" I yelled to Heather, who by the way was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;standing&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;right&lt;/span&gt; next to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopping onto the sidewalk and peeking to my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;left&lt;/span&gt;, what should I see but the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;CVNZ&lt;/span&gt; caravan &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;parked&lt;/span&gt; right &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;behind&lt;/span&gt; us. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;Heather&lt;/span&gt; and I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;booked it to the van and just as we hit the end of our bus, &lt;/span&gt;we were o&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50"&gt;ver&lt;/span&gt; taken by a bright orange glow. I was none other than the great Sam, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51"&gt;appearing&lt;/span&gt; once more with sunglasses, a smile, and his classic &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52"&gt;CVNZ&lt;/span&gt; o&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53"&gt;range&lt;/span&gt; vest to greet the original &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54"&gt;ISV&lt;/span&gt; gang. A huge hug was in order, followed by a loud scream to all the other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55"&gt;Punakaiki&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_56"&gt;volunteers&lt;/span&gt;. Everyone had the same reaction as I did. Run to the van. Hug Sam. Smile. And laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can I steal you guys one last &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_57"&gt;time&lt;/span&gt;?" Sam asked.&lt;br /&gt;"Of course!" we all yelled.&lt;br /&gt;"Enthusiasm?"&lt;br /&gt;"CHECK!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After getting permission to be stolen for perhaps ten minutes, we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_58"&gt;hopped&lt;/span&gt; into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_59"&gt;CVNZ&lt;/span&gt; caravan one last &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_60"&gt;time&lt;/span&gt; to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_61"&gt;travel&lt;/span&gt; one last time to the site. I have never had such a happy car ride. We were all laughing and sharing with Sam all the things that had happened in the mere &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_62"&gt;half &lt;/span&gt;a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_63"&gt;week&lt;/span&gt; that we were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_64"&gt;away&lt;/span&gt; from him and this place. We got to the site. Ran to see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_65"&gt;Kristina&lt;/span&gt;. More hugs. Saw James. More &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_66"&gt;excitement&lt;/span&gt;. Then we got to meet the new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_67"&gt;ISV&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_68"&gt;crew&lt;/span&gt;. It was lunch time for them. They seemed a little quiet, but anyone seems quiet to our group. We were always loud, rambunctious, and perhaps over-enthusiastic, but that was us and I know neither Sam nor Kristina would have wanted it any other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's ten minutes. Hop back in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_69"&gt;van&lt;/span&gt;. Drive back to the pancake rocks. One last group hug and one again we were leaving &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_70"&gt;Punakaiki&lt;/span&gt;, our NZ &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_71"&gt;homebase&lt;/span&gt;. That ten minute trip had made &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_72"&gt;my&lt;/span&gt; entire day, and I know it did for the rest of the group too. We now felt so close to this place and the people in it. We could point out the places we were, name the trees we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_73"&gt;planted&lt;/span&gt;, and laugh and reminisce about the amazing time we spent &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_74"&gt;there&lt;/span&gt;. NZ is a long way from the states, but judging from what I felt on Wednesday, something tells me this isn't going to be my last time here. And boy, let me tell you, I couldn't be happier about that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-7219177412751815427?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7219177412751815427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/homebase.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/7219177412751815427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/7219177412751815427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/homebase.html' title='Homebase'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-8721108897470429506</id><published>2009-06-03T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T23:10:37.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Just Keeps Getting Better</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Hinehukatere loved climbing in the mountains and persuaded her lover, Tawe, to climb with her. Tawe fell from the peaks to his death. Hinehukatere was broken hearted and her many, many tears froze to form the glacier. -&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.glaciercountry.co.nz/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;www.glaciercountry.co.nz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The glacier formed was the current Franz Joseph glacier. The Maori call it Ka Roimata o Hinehukatere - The Tears of the Avalanche Girl (Hinehukatere), clearly because of the legend passed down from generation to generation. This is what I got to experience on Tuesday and my God it was amazing. I am actually having a hard time coming up with words to describe my experiences. They always end up saying "amazing," or "unreal," or "awesome," but there really are no other words to describe them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before getting to Franz Joseph, we had an all day travel day on Monday. We left Queenstown early in the morning on Monday, ready and prepared for a day of travel. We made a few stops and eight hours later ended up in Franz Joseph, a tiny town, filled with mostly glacier stores, a few bars, and a tiny market. The Glowworm Cottages would be our home for the next few nights. Bright and early we awoke on Tuesday. We were to be at the Glacier Guide place for 8:15 am, a little early, but we all knew it would be worth it. After getting our gear [jackets, boots, gloves, and crampons] we headed on a bus and landed at a trail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked on the trail for a little while, all 45 of us single file and we were led to a tiny off-trail in the woods. Walking. Walking. Walking. A clearing!! We came to a huge stretch of land, covered in rocks and surrounded by mountain. After getting split into five different groups of fitness level,  we headed up to the glacier and once again I was struck with an unreal experience. I was hiking a glacier for an entire day with my new friends with me. Our guide, who is actually Maori, was outstanding, feeding us so much information about what we were walking on, looking at, and about to venture into. We crawled through ice caverns and slid through tiny crevices in ice walls, shooting high into the air. It was beautiful and unlike anything I have ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps most interesting was hearing how fast this glacier is advancing a day: 5 meters! Every day, this puppy moves 5 meters. It was cool to think that as we were walking on this percieved sturdy structure, it was moving right under our feet. Simply unreal. What is even more unreal is hearing about global warmings effect on it. While tons of other glaciers throughout the world are still shrinking, including ones on the other side of the southern alps, Franz Joseph is one of the only ones that is still growing. Imagine that. Global warming had nothing on the Franz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived back to the cottages at 5:30 pm. It was a long day, but of course worth it. We hung out for the night, prepared to once again wake up bright and early for another day of travel, but we would soon find out that it would be a pretty surprising trip!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-8721108897470429506?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8721108897470429506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/this-just-keeps-getting-better.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/8721108897470429506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/8721108897470429506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/this-just-keeps-getting-better.html' title='This Just Keeps Getting Better'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-5598117920210515672</id><published>2009-05-30T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T21:53:50.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Man Behind the Jump</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SiINUhepxRI/AAAAAAAAAGg/IQ_ohRb7naE/s1600-h/DSC02471.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SiINUhepxRI/AAAAAAAAAGg/IQ_ohRb7naE/s400/DSC02471.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341846754250310930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aj Hackett himself. The genius behind the bungy jump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-5598117920210515672?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5598117920210515672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/man-behind-jump.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/5598117920210515672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/5598117920210515672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/man-behind-jump.html' title='The Man Behind the Jump'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SiINUhepxRI/AAAAAAAAAGg/IQ_ohRb7naE/s72-c/DSC02471.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-4495805055630152619</id><published>2009-05-30T21:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T21:45:38.057-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Nevis</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SiIHLOJvdQI/AAAAAAAAAF4/TPnsjbMbUMk/s1600-h/DSC02387.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SiIHLOJvdQI/AAAAAAAAAF4/TPnsjbMbUMk/s320/DSC02387.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341839997373740290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's done. On Friday, we went into THE STATION and had the choice of which AJ Hackett Bungy we would jump from. We could jump at Kawarau Bridge, 43 meters high, the original bungy jump, and a place where you could get dunked in the water below if you chose. We could jump at The Ledge, 47 meters high, a torso harness [not a foot one], and you could do a running jump into whatever move you chose. Or...we could do the Nevis Bungy, a 143 meter high jump, suspended from cables across an enormous canyon. I think you know which I chose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45 minute bus ride to the site. Passing the original bungy on the way there. Zane and I were the ones to do the Nevis Bungy from the volunteer group. The sites were amazing on the way and then we made it. Out of the bus. T&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SiIHuct7msI/AAAAAAAAAGA/hyBHYPutmDQ/s1600-h/DSC02461.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 297px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SiIHuct7msI/AAAAAAAAAGA/hyBHYPutmDQ/s320/DSC02461.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341840602579049154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;hings in a locker. Out to get a harness. As we followed instructions, we walked out a side door and onto, well, the edge of the canyon. It was gorgeous. And then we saw it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right in front of us, suspended up only by cables attached to the sides of the canyon, was the Nevis Highwire Bungy Jump. Six by six we were called onto a little cable car that took us out. I was one of the first to go out. Jumps went by weight. I was in the middle. One by one friends jumped and then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Becky? Is Becky here? She's up."&lt;br /&gt;"That's me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pulled my sunglasses and hat off and put them on the bench, and then in I went to get geared up. I was harnessed by the ankles, being given the lowdown about a string I was to pull when I was done bouncing in order to sit upright. Ok, gotta remember that, don't forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wa&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SiIJjh1RPyI/AAAAAAAAAGI/AbjF6AN3pHg/s1600-h/AJHB_AJHN_2009_05_30_C2888_1081.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 215px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SiIJjh1RPyI/AAAAAAAAAGI/AbjF6AN3pHg/s320/AJHB_AJHN_2009_05_30_C2888_1081.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341842613996699426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ddle to the edge, toes hanging over, waiting for the countdown. And of course they had a few glitches. Perfect, that would happen to me. After a few minutes of staring down a huge canyon, toes on the edge, waiting and my heart jumping into my throat, it was time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"3...2...1..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lept. Arms spread out like a swan diving into water. 7 seconds I fell and I have never felt anything like that in my life. Fear turned into a feeling of power. Falling down a canyon, the rocks and river below my only view. And just as soon as it started, it was done. I pulled the string. Thank the Lord I remembered. I sat there [upright of course] swinging in circles in the middle of this amazing landscape, feeling quite happy with myself that I did it, but also feeling so peaceful. My heart was going a mile a minute, but I felt amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was pulled up. That was amazing. Everyone couldn't believe I didn't hesitate, but why hesitate. I would have done it eventually. Go big or go home, I kept telling everyone. And I went big.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After talking with the rest of the ISVers about what an amazing experience we just had, we got an offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You ca&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SiIKRkHRfnI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/HD0YYGhrYyU/s1600-h/AJHB_AJNA_2009_05_30_C1327_4503.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 215px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SiIKRkHRfnI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/HD0YYGhrYyU/s320/AJHB_AJNA_2009_05_30_C1327_4503.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341843404883066482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;n do the Nevis Arc for only $55 if you want to do it with a friend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally to do it tandem it would be $160 a person.  Why would I pass this up? So Zane and I signed up together. The Nevis Arc is an enormous swing over the same canyon. You can imagine how exhilarating this would be. So we walk over a cabled, metal bridge to the platform.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You want to go first?"&lt;br /&gt;"Umm...sure, why not!"&lt;br /&gt;"Ok, so you can go forward, backward, upside down and forward, or upside down and backward. Which will it be?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go big or go home, I thought to myself. So, we did the upside down and backwards swing. Linked together we were moved away from the platform, where we flipped ourselves upside down, arms dangling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you want a countdown or a surprise?"&lt;br /&gt;"A countdown!" Zane yelled.&lt;br /&gt;"Ok...101...102..." Snap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He drop&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SiILFY-kWSI/AAAAAAAAAGY/gzMzYbFHNbI/s1600-h/AJHB_AJNA_2009_05_30_C3327_4497.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SiILFY-kWSI/AAAAAAAAAGY/gzMzYbFHNbI/s320/AJHB_AJNA_2009_05_30_C3327_4497.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341844295246960930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ped us, it was basically a surprise. We flew through the air, arms still dangling, feet above our heads. Again, it was unreal. We finished swinging and just dangled there upside down, arms linked, laughing, as we were getting headrush from being upside down so long. What our instructor neglected to tell us, yet told others, was that once the swinging was done, you could let your feet down. Yup...we were never told. Regardless, it was outstanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all of our friends took their turn, who should walk onto the platform but AJ Hackett himself, founder of the bungy jump. That man is a genius, I thought to myself. He was more than happy to take pictures with everyone and after a few minutes chatting with him, we were on our way to buy our dvd and pictures so we would never forget the amazing experience we had just had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With our free day in Queenstown almost over, and bungy jumping a thing of the past, we hop on the bus tomorrow to take us to our next destination: Franz Joseph. Glacier hiking, here I come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-4495805055630152619?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4495805055630152619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/nevis.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/4495805055630152619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/4495805055630152619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/nevis.html' title='The Nevis'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SiIHLOJvdQI/AAAAAAAAAF4/TPnsjbMbUMk/s72-c/DSC02387.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-7768470241864363205</id><published>2009-05-30T15:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T15:58:43.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Signing up Anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Queenstown&lt;/span&gt;, NZ...the adrenaline capital of the world! Our first stop of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;adventure&lt;/span&gt; tour brings us here, to push our limits and comforts and...make bad life choices? nah just do something crazy. After meeting up with the three groups from the north island, the 45 of us NZ volunteers met up with our two new adventure tour leaders at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Queenstown&lt;/span&gt; airport. The short flight was amazing, over the snow-capped southern alps, landing in an area surrounded by mountainside. "It's going to be cold out there, really cold," a flight attendant told us. I was in my glory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well needless to say, being from upstate New York has taught me a thing or two about being cold. I was prepared, but it actually wasn't that bad! After a two-hour orientation with our new fearless leaders, both outdoor junkies from NZ, we headed to the market to buy things for dinner, then down to THE STATION to hear about our first exciting adventure here in the adrenaline capital. Well, ladies and gents, after a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;small&lt;/span&gt; orientation about this thrilling activity, I went to the counter and signed myself up. Noon on Saturday I depart on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;bungy&lt;/span&gt; jump &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;experience&lt;/span&gt;...143 meter jump with nothing but my feet harnessed. I cannot wait.&lt;br /&gt;This is going to be one of the most thrilling experiences I have had thus far, but it is only the beginning. The next two weeks are going to be filled with countless &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;activities&lt;/span&gt; like this and well...I am both lucky and excited!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-7768470241864363205?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7768470241864363205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/signing-up-anyone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/7768470241864363205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/7768470241864363205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/signing-up-anyone.html' title='Signing up Anyone?'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-9046620637138346702</id><published>2009-05-30T15:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T02:07:29.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tough Farewells</title><content type='html'>Volunteering has ended and it is now time to experience even more sites and thrills of the great NZ. Thursday morning was an early rise, well, earlier than normal. Out the door by 7. Load our bags. Double check the rooms. Make sure all was clean. And off we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was about an hour ride to Greymouth, where Sam would drop us off to board the west coast shuttle back to Christchurch. It was tough for all of us to say farewell to Sam. Throughout these past few weeks, he not only taught us so much about the Punakaiki site, but about New Zealand's natural landscape and habitats. But perhaps most of all, he taught us that if you love something and it makes you happy, then that is enough. Working for CVNZ has been apart of Sam's life for the past seven or so months and he is happy. He loves his job, his new little sanctuary up on the hill overlooking the site, and the reason he is doing it. I don't think you could ask for much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after a much needed group hug, we headed to Christchurch. With my new friends right around me and an amazing project leader laughing and joking just as much as us, it was a good ride. After a bus ride of four or so hours, we arrived in Christchurch and  we finally made it to our resting place. Now, I have never been in a hostel before because, well, really I don't need to stay in one at home, but this hostel was nice. Not smelly, scummy, or anything you might expect for how cheap a stay it is for backpackers. It was great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few moments rest, we headed off through Christchurch to see some sites and hit some stores. We walked in about 20 souvenir shops all selling essentially the same thing...and you know, its funny, even though they all sold the same, we would walk in pick up the same thing we picked up in the store before and tell everyone how cool it was that we found something genuine. It's a foreign country and we are tourists, what do you expect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After some shops, we headed to the botanic garden to have a walk around. It was beautiful. Signs saying what every plant was and HEY! an old friend! there was some flax. Boy did we feel at home, well home at Punakaiki at least. After hugging some trees to show everyone I really am a proud tree hugger, we headed back to meet up with Kristina to grab some fish and chips for dinner. Apparently that's the thing to do in NZ, so of course we had to try...well, not so much the meat portion for me, but the chips were good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After our night in the hostel, our bus picked us up at 7:30 and we were off to Chirstchurch airport. It was another difficult good bye with Kristina. We all got extremely close to her during our two weeks volunteering and learned so much from her. Personally, for me, she showed me that a life of traveling and doing whatever job you thought interesting at the time could be a life of success. She was happy and you could tell. Again, how much more successful could you be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We headed to our gate where we met up with the other south island volunteer group. Boarding time was around 9 am and from that point on, adventure tour had started. Another two weeks of amazing adventures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-9046620637138346702?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/9046620637138346702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/tough-farewells.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/9046620637138346702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/9046620637138346702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/tough-farewells.html' title='Tough Farewells'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-3097760216695917644</id><published>2009-05-27T05:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T06:00:50.291-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mission Punakaiki Restoration: COMPLETE.</title><content type='html'>Well, after an evening of celebrating one of our volunteers birthday, it is Wednesday and our time as the CVNZ volunteers for the Punakaiki Restoration Project Site is finished. But what a day we had to end it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The morning started just like any other. Early wake ups, someone making breakfast, loading ourselves into the van...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Enthusiasm?!"&lt;br /&gt;"CHECK!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. We never forgot it before, but one last check, on our last day. We pulled into the site parking lot, bags and lunches on our backs, ready to give 110% effort like we would be there for the next year. But we weren't going to be there for the next year, we had eight hours left to give it our all. We started our project last Monday, feels like forever ago now, with planting and deciding on a goal. The 5000 tree goal we had originally planned got bumped to 3000, when we found out we would be doing other work for the site. But 3000 trees?! That's still a lot. Nothing too big for us though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our final team building exercise, the best one thus far, was called Giants, Dwarfs, and Wizards. It consisted of hand motions, yelling, and running. What better way to wake up. With Kristina and Sam in on this one, the game ended in heaps of laughs and an energy like I had never seen before. Planting is what we would be doing for the day, so that's just what we did. We had 400 trees left to meet our goal of 3000. Piece of cake. By lunch 400+ trees were planted, which meant we met our goal. But we didn't just meet it, we surpassed it. 3267 trees were planted in a mere week and a half, in between other jobs for the site. I would say that's a success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was beautiful outside, a perfect day to end our time in Punakaiki. "Let's eat outside," Kristina suggested. "It's a wonderful day out." So we grabbed a few chairs, a few crates, and a few buckets and ate our lunch in the sun at the front of the site. Kristina grabbed her bucket, pulled up next to us and told us to enjoy our last smoko/lunch as the first ISV group of volunteers at the Punakaiki Restoration Site. Last? What about afternoon smoko? After Sam sat down with us too, we found out why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every task that we were presented with these past few weeks, we surpassed with flying colors. Over 3000 trees, the site looked brand new, and we had opened up tons of area for planting. It was our last smoko because everything the CVNZ gang threw at us we zoomed through, and they started having a hard time coming up with jobs for us. Sam presented us with Certificates of Appreciation from CVNZ and told us that as a thank you, he would give us the rest of the day off and wanted to bring us down to the Truman Track to enjoy the beach and area one last time before we left. And boy, what a way to end our time here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trail was beautiful. The weather was amazing. The beach was perfect. I couldn't have asked for anything better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that's it. My first volunteer work/conservation work overseas is complete. The trip had opened my eyes to so many new things, things I never thought I would see change in me and my thinking. Being apart of a program like ISV, gives you the opportunity to give of your time to help someone somewhere else in need. Last week I mentioned how no one forced us to come and no one begged us. We came because we wanted to. We became expert planters. By now we can point at one of the treelets we planted, name it and feel proud. That is something I always envied in others in the environmental field, and now I feel like I have had a taste of that. This experience has reassured me even more that the environmental field is where I belong. When we had discussions about conservation and energy efficiency and other related topics, I felt like what I had learned this first year in the ES program was being put to work. I learned so much here, but I feel I gave so much too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conservation isn't just about planting trees or hounding people to recycle. It's about making conscious choices. We all have the power to be environmental conscious, but must have the desire to think before we act and be open-minded to new ways, ways that may be better than the ones we have right now. So, thanks CVNZ! I put in some trees for you and helped you rebuild an ecosystem, but you made me feel at home in a unknown environment and gave me an experience of a lifetime. Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-3097760216695917644?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3097760216695917644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/mission-punakaiki-restoration-complete.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/3097760216695917644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/3097760216695917644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/mission-punakaiki-restoration-complete.html' title='Mission Punakaiki Restoration: COMPLETE.'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-2352220025056701518</id><published>2009-05-27T02:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T05:20:00.588-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Week 2 on The Punakaiki Restoration Project</title><content type='html'>After a very successful first week at the site, we started week two off with just the same enthusiasm as we had our first day. With the memory of Dave bringing us to Charming Creek the day before fresh in our minds, we couldn't wait to continue our work at the site, letting Mother Nature know that we appreciate her...a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kristina started this week picking two people, each day, to run a team building exercise in the morning, to get our blood pumping and energy flowing [although we never forget our enthusiasm, so it just aided that]. With heaps of laughs and running around, we were finally ready to get to work, creating my favorite work day thus far [not counting community planting day].We broke up into two teams. One team would go with Sam to do some bamboo cutting to make stakes for the tiny plants and to plant some trees around the bank of stream, and the other half of us went with James to partake in an adventure. We would switch tasks later, as we always do, but lucky me, I got to be the first group to go on the adventure. [Man this work gets more and more Indiana Jones-like as we go.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, off four of us go - Zane, Will, Erica, and myself - following James wherever he was leading us. Over the fence. through some slush. Over a wooden plank. Through the field. Stop. Look up. There is no more path, only a barbed wire fence and the dense bush of the rainforest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See that nikau palm up there?" James asked.&lt;br /&gt;"Umm...yes...," we answered.&lt;br /&gt;"Let'&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sh0vdp0wIqI/AAAAAAAAAFw/WZ30DECPFVQ/s1600-h/DSC01621.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sh0vdp0wIqI/AAAAAAAAAFw/WZ30DECPFVQ/s320/DSC01621.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340476919621100194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;s go get some seedlings!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, what you can't tell just yet is where James was pointing. Notice he said "up there." That is exactly where we were heading. Over a barbed wire fence [don't worry it's all part of the project site] and we were off. We were to meet at the nikau palm, but to stay together. So we tramped up this steep hill toward it, ducking under tree branches and through tiny tunnels of bush, up mushy terrain. Whoops, slipped. It only set me back a little bit, keep going. Made it. With spades in hand, we dug about 15 or so seedlings from a few different nikau palms up there. And then it was time to venture down. Whoops! Slipped again. Sliding. Sliding. Sliding. Tree! Stop. Phew! Just in time. Over a barbed wire fence, through the field, over a wooden plank, through some slush, over another fence, and back to home base. Well, that was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly am pretty positive that Indiana Jones should be worried because the things we have been doing are sure to make him quake [if he were real ha]. So after our little adventure uphill, it was time for lunch. The groups switched roles. I am sure the second group had just as much fun as I did, but I am positive no one had a "tree coming towards me really fast" experience. My group went down to the stream, planted a few flax plants then headed back to the beach for some more gravel. Gravel, gravel, gravel, how fun you are. We loaded the buckets and wheel barrel, then hung around for a few minutes to make rock angels and look for jade, then headed back to the work site. With the path behind the water tower finally filled with gravel, the day was done. You would be surprised how much work you can accomplish in just a day, and how many new adventures you can have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday brought about even more success. We were told Monday night that this day we would employ the GORSE FORCE. Yes, my friends, another day of gorse fighting [which for some reason many of us North Americans have been pronouncing "gross"]. After team building, yet again we were split up into two groups, maybe we are too much to handle as &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sh0b6jbwhDI/AAAAAAAAAFo/dYLIWi3nXM0/s1600-h/DSC02083.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 224px; height: 299px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sh0b6jbwhDI/AAAAAAAAAFo/dYLIWi3nXM0/s320/DSC02083.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340455425889305650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;one group? Haha Just kidding, we do great as one whole team or in smaller ones. One team would go directly to GORSE fighting [notice it's spelt right?] and the other team was on demolition duty. There was this small patch of land surrounded in fence that was useless on its own and Dave really wanted it to be apart of the field we had been planting on all week. So demolition duty consisted of wire cutting, sledge hammering, digging posts out of the ground, and hauling them away. Fun stuff if you ask me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After morning smoko, the other group came to help finish up so by lunch the task was done. Nothing is too big for this volunteer group. It amazes me how much we get done so quickly. After lunch, the whole team ventured out as the GORSE FORCE to rid the edge of the field of the evil villain. Now, I know you have heard the name Indiana Jones quite a lot, but I swear this is the last. I was cutting gorse around a swamp area, noting to myself and others how again I felt like Indi. I start humming the theme song. Feeling gutsy, I take the most difficult path to a section of gorse that could have been easily accessed by land: I tramp through marsh and sludgy mud. One step. Two step. Theme song. Three step. Boot stuck. Fou....hang on. Guys. Ummm...guys? Indi is stuck! Stuck in the mud, for perhaps the sixth time since I have been here. My boot comes right off my foot. Thank the Lord someone else was present or else I may still be sitting there stuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, alright, so Ms. Stubborn showed her face again, but once again a good adventure came of it. Gorse was done and we were ready for a nap. Home we go, ready to start some surprises.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-2352220025056701518?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2352220025056701518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/week-2-on-punakaiki-restoration-project.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/2352220025056701518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/2352220025056701518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/week-2-on-punakaiki-restoration-project.html' title='Week 2 on The Punakaiki Restoration Project'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sh0vdp0wIqI/AAAAAAAAAFw/WZ30DECPFVQ/s72-c/DSC01621.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-1186096559909770298</id><published>2009-05-24T22:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T23:46:58.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day off? Nope. Day on.</title><content type='html'>With our week of volunteering over, Sunday was our first full free day since our arrival. So we slept in until noon and played video games all day until dinner.....JOKES! That would never happen in a place like this. Why sleep all day and then sit inside when y&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Shot3Yc9dpI/AAAAAAAAAFI/ybdAfP-_830/s1600-h/DSC01982.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Shot3Yc9dpI/AAAAAAAAAFI/ybdAfP-_830/s320/DSC01982.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339630737681118866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ou live smack dab in between the coast and a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;rainforest&lt;/span&gt;! So we made sure to make the best of the beautiful weather and a free day with friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All week long, Dave, Sam, and Kristina have been finding ways to let us experience the place we were living in. The fur seals. The hikes. The jade walks on the beach. All of these were there little ways of sharing a bit of their vast knowledge of NZ with a group of North American college kids. Sunday was no different. Dave had been dying the whole week to take us up the coast to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Denniston&lt;/span&gt; to show us some great sites. So, at 9:30 in the morning on Sunday, he pulled into the lot and rallied the gang. No Kristina or Sam this time, just us and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Davester&lt;/span&gt;, and boy what a tour-guide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Shoy16UiPcI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/sSp9ai7Y9ic/s1600-h/DSC02001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Shoy16UiPcI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/sSp9ai7Y9ic/s320/DSC02001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339636209970986434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drove north in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;CVNZ&lt;/span&gt; caravan as Dave rattled off fact by fact as we passed sites, towns, and strange vegetation. Honestly, the man knows so much about NZ, it's amazing. He first took us up to the old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Denniston&lt;/span&gt; coal site. It is a place for visitors now, with info panels displaying the history of the place. The old coal site was not only the place where the coal was extracted, but also the place where the coal workers and families lived. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;interesting&lt;/span&gt; thing about it though, is that the coal site was built atop, well, practically a mountain! The track the coal ran on was this enormous vertical drop down towards the coast. The weight of the cars full of coal going down, would pull the empty&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sho2LDDraSI/AAAAAAAAAFY/5_G_ZqcuzOg/s1600-h/DSC02055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sho2LDDraSI/AAAAAAAAAFY/5_G_ZqcuzOg/s320/DSC02055.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339639871628339490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; cars at the bottom back up to be filled again. However, this was the only way up and down! The road that we drove up yesterday wasn't there at that time, so there was a real sense of confinement in that tiny coal village. If you wanted to go down, you rode the coal cars. What a way to travel. "Here, go plummet to the bottom on this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;seatbelt-less&lt;/span&gt; large wagon!" Um...no thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sho7AAY7tgI/AAAAAAAAAFg/vYQBMj-SBpQ/s1600-h/DSC02043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sho7AAY7tgI/AAAAAAAAAFg/vYQBMj-SBpQ/s320/DSC02043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339645179491759618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After our pit stop there and our realization that we are pretty darn lucky to ride in vehicles with brakes, we headed to our real destination for the day, a trail just north of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Dennis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ton&lt;/span&gt; running next to Charming  Creek. It was an hour tramp but was awesome. The trail was actually an old coal track, so we were actually walking in the tracks, still intact after all these years. To our left for most of the track was Charming Creek, beautifully running, the sound of its rushing water as soothing as anything. We tramped over rocks and over bridges, through caves and into caverns. When we were an hour in and chuck full of knowledge from Dave, he led us down a tiny path in the trees to a small stream, where we sat and ate our lunch. It was fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The walk back was quicker, as with any trail, but just as great as our tramp out. The highlight of it for me was when I got to have my Indiana Jones moment at one of the bridges. It was a wobbly one, held up only by cables, but even though they weren't ropes like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;IJ&lt;/span&gt; tended to find, I chalked it up the entire time I walked to make myself feel like a professor turned artifact finder. What can I say, Indi and I...are pals. He taught me everything I know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-1186096559909770298?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1186096559909770298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-off-nope-day-on.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/1186096559909770298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/1186096559909770298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-off-nope-day-on.html' title='Day off? Nope. Day on.'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Shot3Yc9dpI/AAAAAAAAAFI/ybdAfP-_830/s72-c/DSC01982.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-7929348869772616422</id><published>2009-05-23T04:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T04:40:40.542-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='caves'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tramping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='water'/><title type='text'>A Little Water Never Hurt Anyone</title><content type='html'>I like to consider myself the adventurous type. Up for anything. Always active. Always ready to jump right into, well...adventures I suppose. So, after finishing community planting day, Kristina [our awesome project leader] and seven of us  embarked on a journey to find the caves along the beach just b&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Shfcy6unIDI/AAAAAAAAAE4/cnhZBh9190k/s1600-h/IMG_0524.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 253px; height: 241px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Shfcy6unIDI/AAAAAAAAAE4/cnhZBh9190k/s320/IMG_0524.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338978650587340850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ehind the house. We walked and walked some more and then some more, until we halted and realized that in order to continue on the beach to find those caves, we would need to pass a waterway. Not to far across, but definitely deeper than a few centimeters in which we could frolic across with ease. Bummer. Looks like we are turning around and going back over the bridge to find another route.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope. Not me. It's just a little water. I'll take my shoes off and tramp across. O Ms. Adventure. Or Ms. Stubborn? So, I take off my boots, my socks and camera inside, lift them high above my head and book it towards this "stream," most of the others watching from behind laughing. Um, ok up to my calves, not too bad. No, my knees? Hang on, thighs?! Waist?!?! Alright. I am literally stuck in the middle, feet well into the sand, boots &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShfgTDlIW5I/AAAAAAAAAFA/dfUW90gmEr0/s1600-h/IMG_0543.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShfgTDlIW5I/AAAAAAAAAFA/dfUW90gmEr0/s320/IMG_0543.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338982501254192018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;high above my head, water up to my waist as I'm sinking deeper and deeper. Looks too deep to continue and not go swimming, so I turn around and head back, only to find that had I ventured a little farther down this stream, it was a tad more shallow, but not by much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perfect. I start my week off with a wet left foot from a leaky boot and I end it with a wet pair of legs from a stubborn adventurer. Ha well needless to say, I made it. We continued our search, climbed a little bit, and found a 12 armed sea-star. No caves were found today, just a few laughs and handful of memories. I'll take that any day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-7929348869772616422?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7929348869772616422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/little-water-never-hurt-anyone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/7929348869772616422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/7929348869772616422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/little-water-never-hurt-anyone.html' title='A Little Water Never Hurt Anyone'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Shfcy6unIDI/AAAAAAAAAE4/cnhZBh9190k/s72-c/IMG_0524.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-542487829610434489</id><published>2009-05-23T03:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T04:16:29.719-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='planting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='community'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ISV'/><title type='text'>Mingling with the Locals</title><content type='html'>Today, the highlight of my week, was community planting day at the Punakaiki Coastal Restoration Site. Dressed in our matching green ISV t-shirts, the CVNZ caravan rolled in a little later than normal. We hauled our trays of plants out into the fields, set up the table for smoko [which would turn into the best smoko EVER!!!!], and take our posts for the day. 9:30 am and people were already parking in the lot! Awesome! We were expecting to wait at least until 10:3&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShfYBL91PkI/AAAAAAAAAEo/9KSTYjGwvLo/s1600-h/DSC01909.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShfYBL91PkI/AAAAAAAAAEo/9KSTYjGwvLo/s320/DSC01909.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338973398174613058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;0 for people to even start showing up, but clearly we were mistaken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One by one cars pulled in and one by one local kiwis, young and old, came up to the sign in table to introduce themselves and get started planting. The best part about this was that parents would come walking up with a spade in one hand and child's hand tightly clasped to the other. Even the kids were excited about planting. We had the little ones wear the bright vests that we had been wearing, with Dave's reason being so we wouldn't lose them in the brush. Valid point. Although it made me wonder if they made us wear them too because we had the potential to get lost. Well, if so, good call, because all eight of us North Americans tend to wander.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it looked like all the locals were here, we all congregated in the fields to plant side-by-side with them. It was amazing to hear their stories, all unique in their own way. I have to admit that it was quite funny to hear all the older locals talk about retirement ages in other countries and how retirement doesn't mean anything. "Idol hands only get into mischief," one said. Ha ha good advice. I'll remember that one. But perhaps the most interesting person I spoke to today was a woman who had lived in the Punakaiki area her entire life. She was here when the site was being considered as a mining place for ilmenite [a mineral used in pigments and paint]. She was one of the first environmental activists to protest the mining idea. She was here through it all. Standing there with her, ankle deep in marsh, it was an eye opening experience for me and it never would have happened had I not been here volunteering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plant by plant, the once empty area we had seen all week planting was suddenly starting to fill. We gave planting demos and helped the little ones plant [although those seven-year-olds seemed to know more than we did]. Finally it was time for smoko, our favorite time of the day, and boy was it tasty. Scones, muffins, cookies, biscuits, tea, and coffee. Boy, smoko on Monday is going to look measly compared to this. In any case, it was a nice little break. We got back to work planting and mingling. By the time noon came around, the 1000 trees we had set out for the day were in the ground, in their new homes and we were &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShfZy2aoRxI/AAAAAAAAAEw/irq5grZT9Qs/s1600-h/DSC01936.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShfZy2aoRxI/AAAAAAAAAEw/irq5grZT9Qs/s320/DSC01936.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338975350894905106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;once again floored at the work we accomplished in just one day. "We planted 30 trees!" one of the young ones said about his work for the day. "And we planted the last one, too!" They were excited. And so were we.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That sense of community ownership that we had been talking about in discussions all week was finally starting to make sense. These people, though apart of a tiny community, wanted a hand in what would happen to their environment, their habitat, their neighbors [the petrels] habitat. And even though we were strangers from another country, they were grateful that we were there too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After cleaning up and heading home, our week of work, rain, plants, and mud was finished, but we couldn't wait for Monday to come so we could continue. But ya know, as I sat in the van on the way back, I couldn't help but remember one moment that stuck out in my head from the day. It came from Sam, the one who has been here since the beginning. We were nearing the end of planting and I just so happen to be near him as he was crouched next to a treelet, spade in hand, in awe at what he saw. He knew what this site looked like before anything was done to it. He was here when there was no visible parking lot, no visible gardens, gorse over taking the fields. But as he sat there and looked, you could tell he was happy. He mentioned how amazing it was to finally see the place covered in trees, finally see a seven-month long vision take place. Once again, it just made sense for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many moment at that planting day reminded me that this is what I want to do with my life, be it in any form. Whether I am writing for a publication, or just volunteering, I'll be happy. And in the end, is that not what we all are striving for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer is yes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-542487829610434489?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/542487829610434489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/mingling-with-locals.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/542487829610434489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/542487829610434489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/mingling-with-locals.html' title='Mingling with the Locals'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShfYBL91PkI/AAAAAAAAAEo/9KSTYjGwvLo/s72-c/DSC01909.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-6810144966680082323</id><published>2009-05-23T03:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T03:35:47.868-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rugby...the New Zealanders Sport</title><content type='html'>The "See you tonight!" bit when Dave dropped us off was an excited one. Last night would be the night that we would get to experience a part of the New Zealand culture: rugby. Coming from the states, seven out of the eight of us had no idea how the sport was played, how long the game was, what teams were good, and why everybody gave such a hoot about it. So, after cleaning up and wearing jeans for the first time in a week [not to mention wearing not one of the same three outfits for the first time this week] we headed next door to Monteiths, a tavern/restaurant that the locals congregated at on nights like these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a big match going on, between the Chiefs and the Hurricanes, both north island &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShfRH4DIT6I/AAAAAAAAAEg/rO-8osDWcss/s1600-h/images-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 118px; height: 80px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShfRH4DIT6I/AAAAAAAAAEg/rO-8osDWcss/s200/images-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338965816505814946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShfRH4WCiWI/AAAAAAAAAEY/wRMrUZM2Hfk/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 88px; height: 95px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShfRH4WCiWI/AAAAAAAAAEY/wRMrUZM2Hfk/s200/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338965816585128290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;teams. But this night wasn't just about rugby at the tavern. It was about experiencing another piece of NZ. Old friends gathered to share a bite to eat as kids played fooseball in the corner as their parents watched between them and the rugby game on the flat screen. Supposedly there are only a handful of channels here, so getting the chance to watch a countrywide televised rugby game on flat screen was a nice retreat for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a nice retreat for us too though. After a week of hard work, it was nice for the eight of us [who have all become great friends in just a week] to gather with Sam, Dave, and Kristina as kind of a celebration for a job well done this week. After two forty-minute halves, Chiefs win! And with that we were relaxed and ready for our big day tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-6810144966680082323?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6810144966680082323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/rugbythe-new-zealanders-sport.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/6810144966680082323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/6810144966680082323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/rugbythe-new-zealanders-sport.html' title='Rugby...the New Zealanders Sport'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShfRH4DIT6I/AAAAAAAAAEg/rO-8osDWcss/s72-c/images-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-142656191937565375</id><published>2009-05-23T03:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T03:21:27.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Week Down. Already?!</title><content type='html'>Week one...FINISHED. It's hard to believe that one-fourth of this trip is already over. Saturday when we pulled into the volunteer house driveway, late at night, I don't think any of us knew what was in store for us for the coming weeks. We knew we were planting trees. We knew we were working with a volunteer group. We knew that we were being given the chance to make a change. "Be the change you wish to see in the world." Ghandi was a genius. But what we didn't know how big of an impact we could have, and how big of an impact this project could have on us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end of our week really made us all feel like a part of this site, like we were making it our own, taking it under our wing, if you will [kind of like a petrel...sorry, I couldn't resist]. Continuing the work we did on Thursday, Friday we finished out paint job on the fence, and scraped and painted the water tower. Ah yes, another fresh coat of white. The site looked brand new. For those who had been on the site since it started about seven months ago, the change they saw in the site that day was tremendous. Even for us, who had only been there for a mere seven days could see the difference, and with that came a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With our make-over done and a long smoko finished, we headed down to the beach to pick up gravel for a new path behind the water tower. Yet again, the beach was another one of those breathtaking views. We finished our gravel scoop and headed down the beach, with James at the lead, to search for some green stone, or jade, something we have all been dying to find since our arrival. "A green stone, I found one!" Nope. It was literally just a green stone, which due to its wetness, looked shiny and jade-like. Alright, so we finished scouring the beach for jade, not green rocks, with no luck, but it was still great to be strolling alongside the waves. And hey, the cartwheels and rocks angels were an added bonus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the site we went. Lay down the rocks. Sort some plants. 10 trays ought to do. Spraypaint some signs [!!!]. Smoko. After a spot of tea, Dave came in and talked to us about what we would expect for the next day, the soon to be highlight of my week [I know the anticipation is killing you]. After our chat, we headed outside and cleared away tons of poplar trees, another invasive plant on New Zealand lands. An hour earlier than the day before, we were on our way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thanks for the lift Dave! See you tonight!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-142656191937565375?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/142656191937565375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-week-down-already.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/142656191937565375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/142656191937565375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-week-down-already.html' title='One Week Down. Already?!'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-5745216457366669164</id><published>2009-05-21T03:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T04:35:03.431-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ownership'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depletion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='community'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ozone'/><title type='text'>How can it be so hot here?!</title><content type='html'>Frost on the windshield?! How could that even be possible here? Sam had been telling us earlier in the week that this part of New Zealand rarely sees frost, but it looked to me this morning that we brought it with us from home. The frost was a sure sign that we should once again bundle up for the day. Even though there would be no rain again today, frost means winter, winter means cold. One layer. Two Layer. Three layer. Four. Yup, that should do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We headed out to the site again this morning, same time, same place. Today was filled with a number of odd jobs [more of beautification jobs] to make the once site of a mining office, the home of a conservation site, one that would be welcoming to any visitors, community members, or passer bys. Half of us painted the outer fence a bright white, while the other half went over to the gorse site again to plant trees along the banks of the stream to stabilize it for the future. After taking smoko [of course], we continued the jobs and made great progress by noon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lunch came quickly and not only did we get to enjoy a great meal with music today, but we got to speak to Dave, the man with all the knowledge heading up the project. Dave told us numerous interesting things about the site, including how community involvement in this project is essential to making it a success. Without a sense of community ownership for the site, people would think very little about its maintenance after CVNZ and others had done their part to fix it up. It was ironic that he spoke of that because a mere two nights ago at one of our group discussions back at the house, we spoke about community ownership as a vital piece of the project. Looks like we are all on the same track with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After hearing his words of wisdom, it was back to work. By 4pm the enormous wooden fence was finished, as well as the water tank outside. I dug up a great deal of weeds today around the site gardens to make room for walkways and simply to clean it up. By the end of the day, the site looked not only welcoming, but brand new. The visual aspect of the site would be one that would pull the eyes of travelers and community members as they passed and it made us feel good to be apart of pulling that community interest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShU7j4qs5rI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/JusfqWxoiWo/s1600-h/DSC01824.JPG"&gt; &lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShU7j4qs5rI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/JusfqWxoiWo/s320/DSC01824.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338238421010540210" border="0" /&gt;          &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShU7jWWbbsI/AAAAAAAAAEI/_XMaglW9BIo/s1600-h/DSC01790.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShU7jWWbbsI/AAAAAAAAAEI/_XMaglW9BIo/s320/DSC01790.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338238411798703810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think what made the day the best was the fact that the sun came out and shined all day long. Once again we shedded layer after layer. It was wierd though. It is late fall here and although NZ's temperature are quite higher than ours, it should still be cold. But when that sun came out, it felt like the middle of summer. What I realized today made this all make sense. Of course, we have all heard about the hole in the ozone layer, heck I could resite textbook clippings about it. But it never really occured to me that this place I am volunteering in is right below that hole!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is no wonder we were so hot when the temperature was still normal for late autumn. The sun's ultraviolet rays are so strong here that even when you are outside for only a short period of time, if you don't put sunscreen on, you can end up with a sunburn. Besides the frustration of having sunburn on my face, it is even more frustrating to think that a country which countributes minimly, if at all, to ozone depletion is getting hit hardest, when over in America, we don't see nearly the affect of harmful UV rays as others. It seems my country is the big, rampunctious brother helping to cause issues, and NZ, is the little, keep-to-himself brother who ends up cleaning up the mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that would esplain why it got so hot all of a sudden. Now, sitting in the house with no sun present outside, my nose is like ice and it's back to being chilly. Tomorrow will bring us to the end of week 1 of volunteering and hopefully the weekend will not only give us more time to explore, but time to reflect on what we have accomplished in just a week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-5745216457366669164?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5745216457366669164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-can-it-be-so-hot-here.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/5745216457366669164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/5745216457366669164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-can-it-be-so-hot-here.html' title='How can it be so hot here?!'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShU7j4qs5rI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/JusfqWxoiWo/s72-c/DSC01824.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-3888987701533594343</id><published>2009-05-20T01:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T02:27:01.675-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gorse: NZ's Worst Nightmare</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShPMajM_u8I/AAAAAAAAAD4/aCef50buMg8/s1600-h/DSC01728.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShPMajM_u8I/AAAAAAAAAD4/aCef50buMg8/s320/DSC01728.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337834739862584258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today's work was quite different from what we have been doing the past few days. Instead of planting treelets around the site office, we geared up, grabbed thick gloves and tools, and headed down the road to another area of site in need of some care. 1 minute drive. A jump over a wooden fence. A careful step over an electric fence. And we were at the site of today's work: gorse removal. Beside a small stream and covering the field we were standing in was plant upon plant of the invasive gorse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Native to Europe, settlers brought gorse here to New Zealand, never knowing how big of an impact it would have on the country's ecosystem. Originally used as hedging for their gardens to keep out predators, gorse was planted in small proportions, only what was needed. But New Zealand's nutrient rich soil and temperate climate caused the gorse plant to spread like wildfire. Gorse now eats up the country side of the west coast of the south island, displacing other native plants and habitats. That's why we were working today to rid the Punakaiki Coastal Restoration Site of this harmful invasive species.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From afar, the plant looks like a large bush with tiny yellow flowers. However, as one comes closer, you will find a plant covered in enormous thorns. The tiny flowers suddenly become not so appealing anymore. We spent the entire morning clipping and sawing the trunks of these gorse plants. It was the most labor intensive work that we have done thus far, but it was nice to do another different job for CVNZ and the restoration site. What made the day even better was that today there was no rain, just pure sunshine. Perfect for the day I decide to wear the most layers and winter clothing. After shedding layer after layer, and even after taking smoko, by noon we were drained. The enthusiasm level was still pretty high but the energy level was dwindling. Lucky for us, the site crew gave us the rest of the day off with a fantastic afternoon of site-seeing planned for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShPMa1wrJ6I/AAAAAAAAAEA/F8SyVWKgBLM/s1600-h/IMG_0439.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShPMa1wrJ6I/AAAAAAAAAEA/F8SyVWKgBLM/s320/IMG_0439.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337834744844068770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a fantastic lunch made on the "toastie maker," also known as a sandwich maker for us, Sam loaded us into the CVNZ van and drove us an hour down the coast to visit the fur seal colony. It was breath taking. It was like we were experiencing New Zealand on our first day all over again, since this was the first time we experienced NZ in the sun. After hiking up the trail to see the seals, and "Awww!"ing over the baby ones, the sight of them lounging on the rocks in the sun made us all long for a nap, so we headed home, more than content with the work we accomplished for the restoration site.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-3888987701533594343?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3888987701533594343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/gorse-nzs-worst-nightmare.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/3888987701533594343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/3888987701533594343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/gorse-nzs-worst-nightmare.html' title='Gorse: NZ&apos;s Worst Nightmare'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShPMajM_u8I/AAAAAAAAAD4/aCef50buMg8/s72-c/DSC01728.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-99047561559561598</id><published>2009-05-20T00:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T01:31:08.791-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Enthusiastic Agricultural Family</title><content type='html'>With so much to do and see here, it's hard to make time to sit indoors and write, but I figure that as much as experiencin&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShO8fYLl9uI/AAAAAAAAADo/i4VlyVl1WUU/s1600-h/DSC01693.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShO8fYLl9uI/AAAAAAAAADo/i4VlyVl1WUU/s320/DSC01693.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337817230617212642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;g this is important, so is remembering it years from now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Success is the only word to describe how well we are doing here. 500 trees the first day. We were all extremely excited to reach the goal, one we thought we would never surpass while being here. I mean, come on, it was our first day, our first time on the site grounds, and the energy level was soaring. That would be our most successful day...or so we thought. That night we slept soundly, knowing that what we had been planning for the past year was finally happening. 8 am rolled around quickly Tuesday morning, just as it had on Monday, but we were just as pumped and ready to go as the day before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Everyone in?"&lt;br /&gt;"...Yes!"&lt;br /&gt;"Did everyone remember everything? Gloves, hats, waterproofs, gumboots?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yes!"&lt;br /&gt;"O and did everyone remember to bring their enthusiasm?!"&lt;br /&gt;With heaps of laughs, "YES!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The enthusiasm question was mine. If there was one thing I realized from the day before, it was how amazing the group I was working with was. Our waterproofs were ripping left and right. We were cold, wet, and drained from flying so much over the weekend, but no one left their enthusiasm at the door. It was right with us wherever we were working and it showed. I find myself lucky to be apart of such a group and Conservation Volunteers New Zealand were appreciative. They kept telling us how exciting it was to have so many hands helping in the beginning stages of the project and how the petrel colony was being nurtured with our help. That right there is reward enough for being here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 2 of volunteer work started and ended with that same enthusiasm. The morning brought more heavy down-pours but we were right out there sorting trees until CVNZ pulled us inside. Seed sorting continued from there and we potted plants as well. Variety. It was nice. With a break in the rain, we ran back outside to continue our &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShO_lTQTmLI/AAAAAAAAADw/tWNXmzParGM/s1600-h/DSC01698.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShO_lTQTmLI/AAAAAAAAADw/tWNXmzParGM/s320/DSC01698.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337820630908901554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;planting. Half of us with Sam [CVNZ member who works and stays with the volunteers] to plant and half of us with James [project site coordinator] to gather seeds. After smoko, the two groups switched places and it was now my groups turn to plant. We decided we were ready for the wet plants and sloshed our way through muddy waters to plant. 430 plants by the time it was almost time to go in, but that was 70 less than yesterday. We knew we could do more and told Sam we wanted to stay out a little longer and reach our goal. 510 trees were planted on day 2, 10 more than the day before. These people here with me had just the desire I had to make a difference, and this enthusiasm was what we all took pride in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After two days of wet, but worth it, planting and gathering, we decided to lay low for the night. Movie night with homemade popcorn sounded perfect. The 8 of us volunteers, Kristina [our project leader], and Sam did just that. Here it was. We were no longer just strangers from around the world. We were one big, happy family having family time together after a hard days works in the fields. It kind of reminded me of a big agricultural family from "back in the day," where everyone chipped in and did their part to make the farm run smoothly. What a family! We care and have fun together! What more could one ask for? Maybe we should make a family band.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-99047561559561598?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/99047561559561598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/enthusiastic-agricultural-family.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/99047561559561598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/99047561559561598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/enthusiastic-agricultural-family.html' title='The Enthusiastic Agricultural Family'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShO8fYLl9uI/AAAAAAAAADo/i4VlyVl1WUU/s72-c/DSC01693.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-2026219718026249237</id><published>2009-05-18T22:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T23:41:23.041-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures Perhaps?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShJUM9wB1rI/AAAAAAAAADg/5DHZmmYBnF0/s1600-h/DSC01438.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShJUM9wB1rI/AAAAAAAAADg/5DHZmmYBnF0/s320/DSC01438.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337421090098632370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Taking off from Sydney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShJQC73-vHI/AAAAAAAAADY/_kQt947q1Tw/s1600-h/DSC01447.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShJQC73-vHI/AAAAAAAAADY/_kQt947q1Tw/s320/DSC01447.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337416519749909618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Over Sydney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShJQCnmQaqI/AAAAAAAAADQ/fND4mO43114/s1600-h/DSC01458.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShJQCnmQaqI/AAAAAAAAADQ/fND4mO43114/s320/DSC01458.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337416514306861730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;NZ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-2026219718026249237?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2026219718026249237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/pictures-perhaps.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/2026219718026249237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/2026219718026249237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/pictures-perhaps.html' title='Pictures Perhaps?'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShJUM9wB1rI/AAAAAAAAADg/5DHZmmYBnF0/s72-c/DSC01438.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-1185423582888850100</id><published>2009-05-18T22:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T22:48:32.595-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Wait, what did you just say?"</title><content type='html'>I haven't been here too long, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that not every country has its own strange words and sayings. "Wait, what did you just say?" and "What is that?" have come out of my mouth one too many times, so I figured I would share with you what I was responding to!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GUMBOOTS = rainboots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PONG = stinky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SMOKO = a tea break&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TAKING THE PISS OUT OF IT = to make fun of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LARRY = happy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SWEET AS = good&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's it for now. I am positive there will be more to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-1185423582888850100?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1185423582888850100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/wait-what-did-you-just-say.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/1185423582888850100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/1185423582888850100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/wait-what-did-you-just-say.html' title='&quot;Wait, what did you just say?&quot;'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-5037621320196909038</id><published>2009-05-18T02:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T03:24:16.629-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1 at the Punakaiki Coastal Restoration Site</title><content type='html'>After a day of heavy exploration and mounds of wet clothing, we have finally come to day 1 of our volunteer work. Jet lag kicked in as we awoke at 7am to eat breakfast and layer on the clothing and waterproof gear for our first day on the restoration site. We were out the door my 8am and on our way to do some heavy restoring of habitats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Water bottle? Check. Waterproof pants and jacket? Check. Lunch packed? Clearly that's a check. Working gloves? Oops, forgot, better run back in and get them....ok, now check. Energy? Mmmmm, almost...nope definitely check. We got to the site and after getting the grand tour of the project office and pow-wowing in the discussion room to hear the basics about why we were here and what we were doing, we headed to the garage to size up our wellies [rainboots] and head out to take a tour of the site. Slosh. Slosh. Slosh. Hole in my boot. Slosh. Slosh. Wait?! Hole. In. My. Boot. It figures that would happen to me. Not even an hour here and I already had a wet left foot. Oh well, I stuck it out and continued our little tour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five minutes in and the fact that my wellie was severely injured didn't mean a whole lot to me. I was peering through a rainforest, marked as a breeding site fo&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShE26ds7mYI/AAAAAAAAAC4/XucKZW5ehIc/s1600-h/DSC01655.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 306px; height: 229px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShE26ds7mYI/AAAAAAAAAC4/XucKZW5ehIc/s320/DSC01655.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337107411444144514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;r a bird in need of help. No one asked us to be there. No one forced us. We received no letters from the black petrel colony saying, "Hey, if you wouldn't mind could you plant some trees to pad my crash landing?" Nothing. We were there because we looked for a way to help a place in need. This petrel colony was it and ISV helped us to find it. We were finally apart of something bigger than our hometowns. This was something bigger than recycling in Texas, like Erica pointed out, or bigger than shutting the lights off in Michigan. This was bigger than talking in an IC ESP class about WANTING to do something. We were finally doing our part and actually being on that site made it real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noon rolled around and our goal of planting 5000-6000 trees over the next 10 days didn't seem as far fetched anymore. We already had 300 trees planted by that point and there were only 11 of us working. You wouldn't believe the energy that was there though. We were laughing with each other as some dug holes and the rest of us sat in muddy, watery grounds, digging our bare hands in the slosh to make a home for each treelet. After a spot of tea, some amazing NZ cookies, and lunch in the site kitchen, we went back to work right away to continue getting our hands dirty for a good cause. An hour and a half later and we reached our day goal: 500 trees. That was one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[What is really special about our group being here at this time, is that we are the first ones. There have been some spraying and digging out of invasive gorse plants before us, but we were the first to plant the trees. We are the ones starting up this site with Conservation Volunteers New Zealand. It's exciting to be apart of the first stages of a project like this.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After finishing our planting and getting literally hosed down behind the site house, we went on a tour of another part of the site, down to the beach. Each new breathtakin&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShE26lND9kI/AAAAAAAAADA/HGoZKRrCcZs/s1600-h/DSC01676.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 306px; height: 229px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShE26lND9kI/AAAAAAAAADA/HGoZKRrCcZs/s320/DSC01676.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337107413457958466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;g view here makes my heart jump, and makes me sit and wonder what treasures I have yet to see with each new adventure I take. Again, it started raining, but it didn't matter at that point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is currently 9:50 pm on Monday night here, and after a fantastic run in the rain on the beach and along rainforest-lined trails, I sit reflecting on this project, why I am here helping, and what an impact this will have. The rain outside is a soothing sound now [after a few constant days of on and off down-pours] and helps the ponderer to ponder to their fullest. So, that's just what I'll do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2 style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:100%;" &gt;Nāu te whatu Māori,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;hei konā rā.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Through the eye of the Maori, farewell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-5037621320196909038?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5037621320196909038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-1-at-punakaiki-coastal-restoration.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/5037621320196909038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/5037621320196909038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-1-at-punakaiki-coastal-restoration.html' title='Day 1 at the Punakaiki Coastal Restoration Site'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/ShE26ds7mYI/AAAAAAAAAC4/XucKZW5ehIc/s72-c/DSC01655.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-2199993247737485801</id><published>2009-05-16T21:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T02:27:59.255-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='punakaiki'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='petrel'/><title type='text'>"Kia Ora" from Punakaiki!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sg-VgseQJ8I/AAAAAAAAACw/kDQcgCm46bM/s1600-h/Document1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 309px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sg-VgseQJ8I/AAAAAAAAACw/kDQcgCm46bM/s400/Document1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336648472383727554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;With a population of about 100 people, Punakaiki is a small place located on the west coast of New Zealand's south island. As I mentioned in an earlier post, the "town" is no more than a few shops and an information center on the area. It's located on the edge of NZ's Paparoa National Park, most well-known for it's pancake rocks and blowholes. The area is covered in vegetation. Staring out the window right now, there isn't one part of the cliffside I see that is bare. It's beyond gorgeous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all the unfortunate things happening to our environment right now, it's a bit of relief to know that there are still places, like Punakaiki, that remain, by their looks anyway, untouched. The New Zealand Department of Conservation owns 85% of the land on the west coast of the south island, most of which is being conserved, like what we are helping with over the next few weeks. But this place isn't without it's problems. If it was, I wouldn't be here right now volunteering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our project is coastal habitat restoration. A mere 5 minutes down the road is the breeding site of the Black Petrel, or &lt;i&gt;Procellaria parkinsoni&lt;/i&gt;. It is extremely significant because this area on NZ's south island is  the only breeding site in the world for this breed of bird, and I get the chance to help it. It's not on the endangered species list, but if it's habitat is not restored, there is no saying whether this species could become apart of that list at some point. It's invigorating to be apart of a project that is protecting the habitat of something so sensitive to the impacts we are having on the environment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also found out that the black petrel is extremely sensitive to bright lights, so if the land we are working on was not conserved and used for commercial uses, the pertrel would not even be able to find its nesting site. Their landing on the site is quite interesting, as we are told they kind of "crash-land" as they come in, a reason the NZ brush and dense rainforest is vital to their survival and breeding. Fear not little crazy black bird, ISV is here to help!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-2199993247737485801?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2199993247737485801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/kia-ora-from-punakaiki.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/2199993247737485801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/2199993247737485801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/kia-ora-from-punakaiki.html' title='&quot;Kia Ora&quot; from Punakaiki!'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sg-VgseQJ8I/AAAAAAAAACw/kDQcgCm46bM/s72-c/Document1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-8693153936532340869</id><published>2009-05-16T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T21:53:55.712-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Conservation Volunteers'/><title type='text'>The Home Tour</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-44264408916f43b3" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v18.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D44264408916f43b3%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330053606%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D79EA5DB2476FB5FF66D756A7126AE96074B5DB10.3DAD5DCCD0A8AB9163024B4480015F0F5FA52E2A%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D44264408916f43b3%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DDu1MqT9B7fMSFaLpoz9_NZbvcXY&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v18.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D44264408916f43b3%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330053606%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D79EA5DB2476FB5FF66D756A7126AE96074B5DB10.3DAD5DCCD0A8AB9163024B4480015F0F5FA52E2A%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D44264408916f43b3%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DDu1MqT9B7fMSFaLpoz9_NZbvcXY&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-8693153936532340869?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=44264408916f43b3&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8693153936532340869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/home-tour.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/8693153936532340869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/8693153936532340869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/home-tour.html' title='The Home Tour'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-2018901986958280240</id><published>2009-05-16T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T19:42:14.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FREE DAY!</title><content type='html'>After getting our much needed rest [I was the last to rise haha], we had breakfast together and were told we were given a free day to explore! We are right smack in the middle of the Paparoa National Park. It is perhaps the most beautiful place I have ever seen. Last night, we didn't have the chance to admire it's beauty on the drive here, which made waking up a literal eye-opening experience. We were waking up to a completely unknown habitat. Unknown but unbelievable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sg92N0oBvII/AAAAAAAAACY/L1485mTTDo8/s1600-h/DSC01547.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 244px; height: 183px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sg92N0oBvII/AAAAAAAAACY/L1485mTTDo8/s200/DSC01547.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336614063294233730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After having a small breakfast together, we split up four and four and went off to explore. Zane, Will, Michelle, and Rachel went off on a 3-hour hike throughout our rainforest surroundings. Erica, Gi, Heather, and myself went off to the "town," so Erica and I could buy a few tee's. Somehow we only brought three each, which is not enough. I quote the word town because it consists of two cafe's and an info center. Ok so it isn't really a town. A ten minute walk turned into an hour walk because on the way we stopped in tons of random places to explore and be camera tourists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We found a tiny cave that of course we jumped in to and took pictures. I bet NZers saw it as the equ&lt;img src="file:///Users/b16webster/Pictures/iPhoto%20Library/Originals/2009/Roll%20199/DSC01553.JPG" alt="" /&gt;ivalent as jumping in the sewer drain as kids, but for us it was awesome. We then took a detour to the coast to just look. And since we're in a national park, ther&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sg93y4GiEvI/AAAAAAAAACg/-izr0FC76lU/s1600-h/DSC01553.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 232px; height: 174px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sg93y4GiEvI/AAAAAAAAACg/-izr0FC76lU/s200/DSC01553.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336615799394276082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e are a lot of mapped out places to visit. The adventure was even more exciting due to the fact that the weather changes so quickly. Thank the Lord we all decided to wear our raincoats because one minute it was as sunny as anything, and the next it would down pour. By the time we returned home, we were drenched. That may have also been aided by the puddle jumping we partook in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a cup of tea, a sandwich, and a short movie, I am up and ready for the next part of my day of exploration. Tomorrow we start our conservation work, at a site five minutes down the road. Our &lt;img src="file:///Users/b16webster/Pictures/iPhoto%20Library/Originals/2009/Roll%20199/DSC01553.JPG" alt="" /&gt;work day will be from 8 am until 4 pm, and I cannot wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-2018901986958280240?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2018901986958280240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/free-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/2018901986958280240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/2018901986958280240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/free-day.html' title='FREE DAY!'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sg92N0oBvII/AAAAAAAAACY/L1485mTTDo8/s72-c/DSC01547.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-6226479106093168436</id><published>2009-05-16T19:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T02:05:05.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>10:30 pm Saturday NZ Time</title><content type='html'>2.5 hour flight from Sydney to Christchurch over. And regardless of the name, it is not the holiest town in NZ. The flight was a lot of fun. It seemed that both south island NZ volunteer gro&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sg9o7R09pvI/AAAAAAAAACI/gWJyup913Wc/s1600-h/DSC01451.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336599451064444658" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 276px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 207px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sg9o7R09pvI/AAAAAAAAACI/gWJyup913Wc/s200/DSC01451.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ups were seated together at the back of the plane, you know, the cool section. This made the final portion of travel to NZ that much more enjoyable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After clearing immigration and customs, and not getting fined $100,000 or thrown in jail for having mud on our sneakers [like we all thought we would], we had 45 minutes to get our act together before leaving Christchurch's tiny port of air. It was just enough time to exchange money [and the American dollar is so strong! $1 American = $1.7 NZ], grab some grub, and call parents, who we all know were freaking out at this point. With that, it was time to say farewell to our fellow southern NZ volunteers stationed at another location, and catch the West Coast Shuttle for yet another long trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This 5 hour busride was our final notch on our travel chain to Punakaiki. The pass through the west coast is a windey one and the wind is intense. We even saw an overturned vehicle because of it! But the sites of the Southern Alps were amazing and we made it to our destination safe and sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is now 10:26 pm on Saturday and after over 35 hours of travel, we are settled in and hitting the hay. Tomorrow will be great. A free day to spend exploring this unknown landscape and perhaps a few extra hours of shut-eye will be a sure way to start off these next four weeks. So with that, it's off to bed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-6226479106093168436?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6226479106093168436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/1030-pm-saturday-nz-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/6226479106093168436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/6226479106093168436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/1030-pm-saturday-nz-time.html' title='10:30 pm Saturday NZ Time'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sg9o7R09pvI/AAAAAAAAACI/gWJyup913Wc/s72-c/DSC01451.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-3869625572820862872</id><published>2009-05-16T09:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T18:26:23.622-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='airports'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Zealand'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Australia'/><title type='text'>9:07 am Ausi Time</title><content type='html'>"Welcome to Qantas Airlines!" Gate 120. Outbound flight to Sydney, Australia. That's where I head, still a little unsure of where I'm going in LA's massive airport. I searched for an ISV staff member in the green shirt. Nothing. Snap, looks like I'm on my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But wait! I see one! An introduction, a few questions answered, and a hand at where other ISVers were located, waiting to depart. Then I get a tap on my shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sg9mbq0cy6I/AAAAAAAAAB4/nkb8hLSuBfk/s1600-h/DSC01423.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sg9mbq0cy6I/AAAAAAAAAB4/nkb8hLSuBfk/s200/DSC01423.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336596708994108322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Hey, are you Becky?"&lt;br /&gt;"Ummm...yes..."&lt;br /&gt;"It's Erica!"&lt;br /&gt;After receiving our project info a few weeks back and a list of everyone in our group, I put the great Facebook to work and found some of my group members. Erica was one. We hadn't talked much, but it was nice to have a partner starting Mission 2 of the trip. Over to gate 120 we went. The waiting area resembled that of one for a Spring Break trip: college students engulfing the entire area with laughs and enthusiasm. Clearly, it was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone was there for the same reason: to give some time at the beginning of their summer to volunteer overseas. Looking for a seat, I see another familiar face...Zane! Zane was another one of the people I chatted with via the book of faces. Introductions were simple as a whole group of us departing to different areas in New Zealand shared who we were and where we were from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, it was boarding time. 10:30 pm New York time and Erica and I just happened to have seats right next to each other. Convenient. We boarded the enormous, two-story Qantas beast and 13 hours, 3 movies, a little nap, and two plane meals later, we landed safely in Australia. We had a little over an hour to kill in Sydney's airport but we headed to our gate anyway to see who we were continuing to travel with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gate 33, 6:30 am Ausi Time on Saturday was where the gang first met. It was ri&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sg9no26GJcI/AAAAAAAAACA/eR_T1zujpck/s1600-h/DSC01474.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sg9no26GJcI/AAAAAAAAACA/eR_T1zujpck/s200/DSC01474.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336598035088942530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ght then that I realized how great these next four weeks were going to be with my volunteer group. Our hometowns ranged from all over North America: Canada, Michigan, Iowa, Texas, Nebraska, and New York. All of us were from different backgrounds, with different interests, but the same purpose for sitting there. We hung at the gate for a mere hour, but it didn't take long for the comfort level to reach a high. We were cracking jokes, laughing, sharing what little info we knew about NZ, and getting impatient for the next flight. I mean, come on, we have just all been flying for hours over the past few days, lost our Friday, and just wanted to be in NZ!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:05 am. Boarding time. We all got on and somehow all got seats right next to each other in the back of the plane. It kind of reminded me of bus trips in high school when all the "cool" kids congregated in the back of the bus. Ha, clearly we were the cool kids. It's funny, I never saw us getting comfortable with each other so quickly, but we did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, we are on our flight to Christchurch, NZ for 2.5 hours, but it doesn't end there. We get to then take a 5 hour, actual bus ride to our volunteer site, Punakaiki, or "the P-place," as we all call it, [since none of us can pronounce it].&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-3869625572820862872?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3869625572820862872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/907-am-ausi-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/3869625572820862872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/3869625572820862872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/907-am-ausi-time.html' title='9:07 am Ausi Time'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/Sg9mbq0cy6I/AAAAAAAAAB4/nkb8hLSuBfk/s72-c/DSC01423.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-6796069730638621722</id><published>2009-05-14T10:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T10:19:11.220-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mission 1. Complete.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Flight #1 = succes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SgxQBJqyM0I/AAAAAAAAABI/1dXvyOayW_E/s1600-h/DSC01310.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 194px; height: 259px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SgxQBJqyM0I/AAAAAAAAABI/1dXvyOayW_E/s320/DSC01310.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335727639232656194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;s!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I didn't sit next to anyone sketchy, smelly, or who took up half my leg room, just a nice middle-aged woman heading to Erie, Pennsylvania. I don't know what I anticipated for the plane, but this tiny thing was definitely not it. US Airways Express planes are small! It felt like I was flying on a private jet with only enough room for my extended family and I. I liked it. It was cozy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, even though the flight was a success, it didn't leave on time. It wasn't a big deal though, not to mention the flight attendants had it under control. It's amazing how calm they are when something could potentially be wrong. "Goooood Morning Everyone and welcome to US Airways Flight 1406 to Philadelphia! We will be boarding soon, just after our mechanic checks something with the engine...blah blah blah...airplane talk...blah blah." Even though she mentioned that the engine was being looked at, I wasn't nervous. Huh, who knew those flight attendants had the gift of soothing speech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, anyway, I arrive in Philly at 1:30 pm...O wait that's th&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SgxRESYIb5I/AAAAAAAAABY/3_lvphewsCc/s1600-h/DSC01313.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 172px; height: 129px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SgxRESYIb5I/AAAAAAAAABY/3_lvphewsCc/s320/DSC01313.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335728792621576082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e time I am supposed to board for LA! Whoops, better scurry. Of course my arrival flight came in on the opposite side of Philly's enormous airport than where I needed to board, so I needed to take a shuttle. Fantastic. I get off the shuttle and see "Express Walkway."Ok , that sounds good, I thought, it must be a shortcut. You can tell I don't fly a lot [or ever]. It apparently means a flattened escalator that makes even the slowest walker look like a track star. So, zooming I go, passing store windows on my right. I felt like I was in the mall at warp speed. Although, if express walkways were in the mall, shopping would be a quick trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I get off and slow down from warp speed, I hurry down to Terminal B. I haven't eaten anything all day at this point, so naturally as I pass each vendor I mumble sweet "Yum"s,  "Oh man"s, and "That looks tasty"s as I pass, [low enough so I am not deemed a mental patient by passerbys ]. I get to the gate and after seeing a huge line decide to snag something from the vendor right next to it. $1o later and I have myself an interesting meal of chex mix, a granola bar, and a vitamin water [XXX of course]. Hey, better than nothing. With ticket in hand, I head to the flight attendant at the gate.&lt;br /&gt;"You headin' to LA?!"&lt;br /&gt;"Yup."&lt;br /&gt;"O good, 'cuz we're leaving now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What timing. A mere 5 minutes later and Philly would be my temporary home until I found another flight to LA. So, on the plane I go, one of the last to board. I get on seeing people sit two by two and can't wait for this roomy flight I will have, not to mention the plane would now fit an entire neighborhood, not just the extended family. So, I walk down the aisle behind a man pulling a small wheely, suitcase behind him. Every few steps he would stop and stare off into space. Meanwhile, I'm behind him, feeling I should introduce myself to the people in the aisle seats, since I saw myself spending a lot of time there. He finally sits down. Bye aisle crowd!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SgxR67R761I/AAAAAAAAABo/7DvbOFNW738/s1600-h/DSC01329.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 158px; height: 118px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SgxR67R761I/AAAAAAAAABo/7DvbOFNW738/s200/DSC01329.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335729731314379602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get to my seat. Darn! The enormous two by two seats have stopped and are now three by three, but still roomy. Seat 23F. Jackpot! I get a window seat and no one sitting in the middle seat! That leaves me plenty of space to snooze, listen to some tunes, and read about Stephanie Plum's next adventure in Two for the Dough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, in &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SgxSRqW9TLI/AAAAAAAAABw/7eVb1gqOFCI/s1600-h/DSC01333.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SgxSRqW9TLI/AAAAAAAAABw/7eVb1gqOFCI/s200/DSC01333.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335730121909030066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;my seat I sat, phase 1 of my flight schedule nearly complete. I stared out the window, undisturbed, for a few hours, peering at the beautiful sights below. I found it extraordinary that here I was, high in the air, feeling as light as a feather, but seated in a huge device made of heavy metal and the added weight of people. Ironic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The views were amazing though. It's one of those times you wish everyone you know can take part in seeing what you see. It would make friends happier and enemies less like enemies. That's satisfying stuff I would say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would soon land, my friend from LA waiting for me in the baggage claim. Now, tomorrow...the real adventure begins.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-6796069730638621722?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6796069730638621722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/mission-1-complete.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/6796069730638621722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/6796069730638621722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/mission-1-complete.html' title='Mission 1. Complete.'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SgxQBJqyM0I/AAAAAAAAABI/1dXvyOayW_E/s72-c/DSC01310.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-3620395329909874337</id><published>2009-05-13T07:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T07:44:54.741-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Airport #1</title><content type='html'>Alright, so here it is. I am in airport #1, also known as Albany International Airport. Last night, I was extremely anxious about the trip, not about flying, not about New Zealand, but ABOUT THE AIRPORTS! I have flown and been in airports before, but I have always had people just kind of do the ticket business and find the gate business for me. I was a nervous wreck about getting my ticket and finding the gate, but you know what...it's not that difficult. My friend reassured me that when we thought our parents were geniuses for figuring out the flight stuff, they were actually just using common sense. Look up. Read the numbers. Go to the gate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Now watch, I'll get to the next airport and be completely confused. Ha hope not.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's it for me...until next time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-3620395329909874337?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3620395329909874337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/airport-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/3620395329909874337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/3620395329909874337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/airport-1.html' title='Airport #1'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-9222921344060321071</id><published>2009-05-06T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T21:29:11.739-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='packing'/><title type='text'>One Week!</title><content type='html'>I chatted with a friend today about ISV. She went to Australia last year through the program and had the time of her life. The pictures and videos just proved that even more. She asked when I was leaving and I replied, "Well, a week." Her reply back to me was, "Oh my gosh! Are you freaking out?" My initial answer was no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly haven't had the time to pack, let alone "freak out." But now, a week from departure, the nervousness is kicking in a little. I will arrive home from school a mere four days before I leave for the great NZ. That is just enough time to go out and get everything I need to travel and pack. It will be cutting it close I think, but hey, I'm a college kid, I can pack and get ready quickly, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some proper weather clothing, a few short novels, a notebook, a pen, a few bucks, a camera, and I am set. This month will be unlike anything I have ever done. And, well, I can't wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-9222921344060321071?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/9222921344060321071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-week.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/9222921344060321071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/9222921344060321071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-week.html' title='One Week!'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-7629454709732522544</id><published>2009-05-05T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T19:39:58.585-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='volunteer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ISV'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adventure'/><title type='text'>The Program</title><content type='html'>After writing a few times about the amazing program I am doing this summer, it came to my attention just today that I never fully explained the program itself. In coming posts, you'll hear about all of these activities that I am doing in New Zealand, but surely someone might like to know the background about why I am doing them! So, brace yourself, because here it is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;International Student Volunteers, the great ISV, is this unbelievable program that actually goes to schools, like Ithaca, to recruit their volunteers. We wo&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SgD3IXAHKiI/AAAAAAAAAA4/uV56ytGkhPo/s1600-h/banner_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 166px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SgD3IXAHKiI/AAAAAAAAAA4/uV56ytGkhPo/s320/banner_01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332533681792166434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;uld just be sitting in our normal classes and out of no where an energetic Australian man would come running in with a clipboard saying, "Gooday mates! This won't take long. I'm just 'ere to tell you about this amazing opportunity going on this summa'!" And as he proceeded [with the fastest speech ever!] about the program and how we should sign the clipboard going around, that same clipboard somehow made it all the way around the room with tons of signatures. Tell me, now who wouldn't want to encounter a program with these type of enthusiastic people? The answer is NO ONE because they are a riot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, back to the program. You go through this small application process that lets you rank what countries you wouldn't mind traveling to, what kind of work you wouldn't mind doing, and why you want to be apart of the program. It doesn't take long for them to get back to you. An email and a call later, saying, "Congratulations Becky! You're in!" and the process begins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, ISV is not free, which could put a damper on being apart of this for some students. However, the great thing about it is that they will send you tons of information, well in advance, about how to obtain sponsorships for your journey overseas! [That's partly how I got to go.] You are also left with ample time to find other sources for help paying for the trip, which was a big help for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;65 days prior to your departure and the adventure of a lifetime, they expect you to have all of your insurance, flight, and other materials in so that you are all set when your trip rolls around. They also give you the option of being on a "Group Flight" which means you will fly out of your country with people who are going to be in your volunteer group. This is especially helpful for first time travelers [like me!]. And now the good info...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You travel to your host country, where you will be living for the next four weeks. Your first two weeks are devoted entirely to your volunteer work because, hey, it's a volunteer program. This is the purpose of you being apart of ISV! You spend these two weeks with your small volunteer group. Throughout that time, you are encouraged to keep a journal of your experiences and the group periodically has discussion time talking about the work you are doing and learning more from each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what would a trip be without immersing yourself and learning about the culture you have just been in for half of a month? The following two weeks are ISV's way of thanks I suppose, giving you the time to enjoy your host country. These two weeks you journey on an adventure tour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For this portion of the trip, you team up with other groups who have been working around the country, giving you the chance to meet even more people dedicated to service. The adventure tour varies from country to country, but the bottom line is that you get to do activities and see sights that you may never again have the opportunity to do or see. Your last night is spent celebrating, sharing stories, crying, and laughing about the amazing journey you just took in another part of the globe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that the trip ends and your outstanding month overseas, having fun and helping those that need it, is apart of history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How's that for an ISV low-down? Yup, I think I covered basically everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Banner above: from ISVonline.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-7629454709732522544?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7629454709732522544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/program.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/7629454709732522544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/7629454709732522544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/program.html' title='The Program'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SgD3IXAHKiI/AAAAAAAAAA4/uV56ytGkhPo/s72-c/banner_01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-7330269989389785230</id><published>2009-04-26T21:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T21:55:23.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Times Like These...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SfU6YMD5fVI/AAAAAAAAAAw/zpI-0zm3dKo/s1600-h/DSC01245.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SfU6YMD5fVI/AAAAAAAAAAw/zpI-0zm3dKo/s320/DSC01245.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329229921291697490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So at this point, I suppose I should be counting down the days until my departure, packing, and making sure my paperwork is set and ready to go. But I never realized how much added work that is for a college student around finals time! My time is being eaten up with school work, finals preparation, and final projects, leaving little time for me to wrap my head around New Zealand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But even if it takes me till 12:30 am studying or working on projects, New Zealand is still coming and quicker than ever. It's funny, I have yet to really take in the fact that I will be making my first real trip away and will be gone for over a month! It's unreal! My first time flying alone. My first time overseas. My first time being away from home, besides college of course. This is going to be the experience of a lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So during this week, my few spare moments will be spent researching all that this beautiful country has to offer. Its unique culture. Its traditions. Its natural habitat for a vast amount of wildlife. And how about its strange flightless bird with an amazing story to accompany it? I have a lot to learn in the next few weeks, but, hey, I'm a college student, I learn quick. And I am a writer. And if there is one thing that every writer, or journalist, should have skills in is research. Never go into an interview without preparing ahead of time and never dive into a story without researching the topic. It is all about preparation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My majors, Environmental Studies and Journalism included, are preparing me for the field of Environmental Communication, but they are also indirectly preparing me for other aspects of my life. This adventure is showing me that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the week starts. Exactly 2.5 weeks until departure. Research. Preparation. O and there was one other thing...o yes, PACKING! The wonders of travel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-7330269989389785230?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7330269989389785230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/times-like-these.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/7330269989389785230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/7330269989389785230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/times-like-these.html' title='Times Like These...'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SfU6YMD5fVI/AAAAAAAAAAw/zpI-0zm3dKo/s72-c/DSC01245.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-2945820750148468786</id><published>2009-04-21T19:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T19:54:36.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Opportunity That Started It All</title><content type='html'>I came to Ithaca College, two years ago, as a Journalism major, with the sole desire to write about what I love. All it took was an Environmental Biology class to declare a new love in my life: the environment. And so came the declaration of Environmental Studies as my second major. I had found my niche for writing and could not be happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was around that time that a group called International Student Volunteers came to campus to recruit students for summer volunteer trips, scattered throughout the globe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is it," I thought to myself. "This is the start of a whole new chapter for me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it was. I filled out an application for the program. Sure enough, a few weeks later I was accepted to their New Zealand program. I would travel in May to this beautiful environment and I would be apart of an amazing conservation volunteer project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, conflicts arose and my NZ trip [as I later called it] was canceled. The trip had already meant a lot to me, and I had not even gone! But boy was I determined. I applied again the next year and was accepted, same time, same place. Nothing could please me more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year has been filled with nothing but preparation, from obtaining sponsors, to writing grant proposals [that turned out successful], to preparing myself for the adventure of a lifetime, and now, here I sit, a mere three weeks from my departure date of May 13th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is going to be something completely different from what I am used to, but exactly what I have hoped for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now all I need to do is pack!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-2945820750148468786?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2945820750148468786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/opportunity-that-started-it-all.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/2945820750148468786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/2945820750148468786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/opportunity-that-started-it-all.html' title='The Opportunity That Started It All'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7755798375610502170.post-7190890927186487780</id><published>2009-04-21T19:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T19:38:07.490-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Starts.</title><content type='html'>College is all about the experience. It is about learning what you love, loving what you learn, and taking every opportunity to make the best of it. This is how I look at life. A double major in Journalism and Environmental Studies, I yearn to travel, become apart of environmental initiatives wherever I may be, and write about them. So, that's just what I'm going to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let us all find ways to share the Earth experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7755798375610502170-7190890927186487780?l=theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7190890927186487780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/it-starts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/7190890927186487780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7755798375610502170/posts/default/7190890927186487780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theearthprojectblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/it-starts.html' title='It Starts.'/><author><name>Rebecca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17721194873997703710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5fgdIuX0O5k/SeyvvJmIuEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tYBNAAP9nLU/S220/n1376970070_30047546_6030.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
