Blogpost 5: The Blessing and Curse of Cell Reception

Camping out under the stars, far from the numbing light and noise of cities, is where outdoor enthusiasts know cares fade away and the stresses of daily life are released. One topic of debate among the outdoor community, however, is cell phones. I know people who keep them on and charged at all times, and those who leave them behind entirely. I personally always bring mine along, but keep it on silent-mode to prevent any distractions, as I do feel safer knowing I can contact aid. It’s tough to find a campground in modern-day America that is outside the reach of cell towers and satellite service, and some campgrounds I have stayed at recently even have their own WiFi network!

Camping in New Zealand’s Ahuriri Valley, by fourcornersnz

However, this constant connection is not present throughout the majority of New Zealand. Tourists complain about expensive, slow internet even within the nation’s largest cities, and outside the metropolitan regions, cell reception is hard to come by. The main 3 networks, Spark, 2Degrees, and Vodafone, claim to cover over 95% of “the places where Kiwis work and play”, but as 86% of New Zealanders live in cities, this means that barely 50% of the nation’s land area has cell service.

Approximation of the Spark Mobile Network Coverage Map

Being cut off from cell networks might be a scary part of my New Zealand adventures. I’m accustomed to having an emergency solution in the palm of my hand, so I’ll need to remember to take extra precautions. Before leaving for a hike or overnight stay in the wilderness, I’ll let someone know where I’m going and when I plan to be back, so they can check on me if I take longer than expected to return. A compass is also a must-bring item when GPS isn’t reliable. As long as I stay safe, perhaps I’ll even appreciate being freed from the tethers of cell networks!

Blogpost 3: New Zealand and the essence of Middle Earth

One does not simply walk into Mordor– that is, unless they fancy a hike through Tongariro National Park. When Peter Jackson began to film his film adaptation of J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy, he chose New Zealand as the land where Middle Earth would come to life. And who could blame him? The island’s lush forests, rolling plains, comfy meadows, and towering mountains make it the perfect analogue for the world of Tolkien’s imagination. Hobbiton came alive in Matamata, Edoras on Mount Sunday, and Paths of the Dead in Putangirua Pinnacles.

Mount Ngauruhoe in Tongariro National Park by Tom Coates

New Zealand takes pride in its role in these renowned films, and the tourism industry especially embraces it. The official government website and dozens of other companies are happy to show you every location from Isengard to Rivendell. However, it is not all Shire salts and second breakfasts, as the Middle Earth assumptions are not without their dangers. Every hero and major character in the films was white, completely censoring the native Maori population from the movies’ aesthetic. And while Tolkien was clearly not a fan of industrialization, New Zealand is an industrialized nation with strong infrastructure. Unlike the medieval feudal world of Middle Earth, nearly one third of the nation’s total population lives within Auckland’s city limits.

Hobbiton by Amanda, A Dangerous Business

While The Lord of the Rings is a compliment to the natural beauty of New Zealand, essentializing a modern nation as a land of fantasy is disrespectful to its inhabitants, especially when the diversity of their population is misrepresented by that ideal. New Zealand is a real country populated by real people who live lives without spells, elves, or rings of power, and want to be viewed as such. Nevertheless they can still get caught up in the same wonder and joy that Tolkien and Jackson brought us all with their work.

Blogpost 2: Street Art: Maori Whakairo (Carving)

Throughout the cities, Maori communities, and rivers of New Zealand, carved designs tell stories that cover meeting houses, signposts, canoes, and more. The Maori traditional art of whakairo, or carving, connects New Zealand to its cultural heritage and provides reminders of identity within the modern nation.

According to Maori legend, whakairo was invented by Ruatepupuke, grandson of the sea god Tangaroa, who carved a sacred fishing lure from a stone. The Maori carving tradition, deeply linked with their Polynesian origins, has matured into a unique style over the centuries spent isolated. Patterns, inspired by fish scales, spider webs, fish hooks, the movement of the sea, and the ribs of ferns, can tell stories across the rafters of a meeting house or along the bow of a canoe. Artists used greenstone to carve designs into wood, stone, bone, and even their own skin to make unique tattoos. Maori carvers were traditionally men, but recently women have taken up the practice as well.

At Te Puia in Rotorua, you can watch Maori carvers at work. By Chad Case

When communities shifted from rural to urban spaces after World War II, the Maori brought their artistry with them. Within cities, they made their presence felt by building marae, traditional courtyards surrounded by meeting houses and other community buildings. Artists like Cliff Whiting worked to restore and rebuild older marae and wharenui (meeting houses), and collaborated with New Zealanders of European descent to build new ones integrating and including everyone that calls New Zealand home.

Ohinemutu is home to the Te Papaiouru Marae and the Tama-te-Kapua meeting house. By Kia Ora Guided City Walks

These grand pieces of culture and history are appealing to tourists, who make a point to see famous carvings and even pick up a few souvenirs. However, the carvings are primarily created for the unity and honor of those who call New Zealand home, not as an attraction for the visitors passing through. Though not what we usually think of as street art, the presence of whakairo in urban and historic spaces conveys similar messages of community, pride, narrative, and beauty as other street art across the world.