Urban Culture in NZ= N-Word Take 2

Monday March 15th, 2009

Just finished my religion lecture on cosmology, spirits and life focusing in on Santeria at 5:36 and I dash out of the building to catch the 5:40 #13 bus to the bus terminal. I settle into my seat and in front of me I see my friend, Togo, the Maori student who I met a few weeks ago that asked me if I was a "nigga."

He smiled recognizing me and I did the same. He was wearing running tights, basketball shorts, high-top sneakers and a red hooded sweater (hood was on fully). I asked him how things were going and he replied ,"good, but I got a lot of reading and work so not soo good there." He was taking 2 papers which he said wasn't a lot but he was taking small bites. Togo is recovering from a bad accicent a few years ago which has affected his movement of his arms, legs and speech. He doesn't walk with a cane or has a visual scars but he speaks low and walks slow.

I asked him how his job was going and he said it was still busy. He's helped organize several events including inviting a hyponosis to come entertain the students. He stated that the biggest event he is working on now is the review of student policies. he says currently students are charged over $100 dollars for student service fees but the student has the right to opt out. Part of the review is deciding whether this will remain an opt-out fee or if it will become mandatory. Togo likes the way it is now because it "is good for them (administration) and for us (students)."

He asked how my lectures where going and if I was still traveling to Auckland everyday and I said "yes." Its funny that New Zealanders make a big deal about my travels but it really isn't all that bad. Its 2 hours on the bus where I nap, read, prepare for lectures and write some of my blogs. I leave home at 1pm and am back by 8pm three days out of the week. My NYC commute was about 1 and half and it consisted of me walking 10 minutes to the bus which took about 40 to 60 minutes into the city and then a 20 minute walk to work. Coming home to my honey and a home-cooked dinner shared over light conversation and laughs is worth the round-trip.

Well after the light chitter chatter, Togo asks me if I minded when he called me a "niggah" last time. I was so surprised (and grateful) that he asked me that question. As I stated in my last blog, there was so many thinks I thought of saying after the fact and didn't know if I would see him again or if the conversation would come up. I was also surprised that he asked if I minded. I didn't realize I gave off an uncomfortable or awkward signal or maybe I didnt and he just wanted to know more about the term. Anyway, I was glad for the segway.
I told him that I have said it but that I would not use it most of the time. Instead I was opt to use "your my boy, my homey, my friend" rather than niggah. I explained that the word is popularly used in urban/ hip hop culture in the same manner but that even in NYC and other parts of the US the word is still negatively associated with slavery and Jim Crow South. He knodded his head and asked if I would ever say to someone i considered my bro (Maori use "bro" for friends), "whatttt uppp nigggah" and I honestly stated that I probably have in the past with very very close friends that use the word as a term of endearment but that I probably would not do so now. I explained that even if I know that the other person understands that I am using it as a term of endearment that I still can offend anyone else listening. I explained that the word is quite degatory and even within the black/ brown commmunity there is a strong resistance against it. "Fair enough," he replied. I then asked him how did he understand the use of the n-word and if he used it.

He said that amongst Maori, they would use it in place of "bro." You know, "brown person to brown person. It is used positively." But there is times it can be negative, like if pakeha (white new zealanders) says, "Get out of here niggahs! Then you would be like ahhh man, really," after saying that he looks away and sways his left hand as if saying whatever. "Those are times you got to breath it out and not hold in the negativity...you know treat it like sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me."

I added that in the USA, even among blacks and browns one could use the n-word negatively. Togo agreed and said that the same is truth amongst the Maori.

He said the n-word had lots of barriers, "it like Toko, he bends his right hand straight up and faces his palm to me as he further explaains, "Toko mean sacred...like don't go there."

I shared with him that after our first conversation I had wondered about his understanding and usage and I was wanting to give a little more context about the usage in the states.

He said that the use of the n-word is a bit like the pronounication of Maori as "Maary" by Pakeha "and they don't even fix the way they say it." He said that even some Maoris learned it that way and say it that way too.

I asked him if the pronounciation of Maori in this way was considered offensive and he shook his head slowly up and down and said "yeah, it is."

He then asked me if I was a religious person and if I went to church which I answered that when I am with my family I go to church and that I believe in God and believe in living a good life respectful of people and nature and things but that I don't always go to a church.

I asked him if he was and he said that he was more spiritual then religious. He said that he believed in God and sometimes he doesn't but that when he is arguing with his uncle who is really religious he says he agrees in a God. "believing in God works with the way I live my life, I could understand it...I just liked to be forced to go to church or belief other things." He then asked his Maori was a religion, I told him that the maori had native spiritual beliefs and that many of them were also christians. He then replied, "but is it a religion." I just got out of a 1:40 minute lecture on religion and couldn't stir up a good enough answer to his question. He said, I get that we have a set of beliefs but how do I make them a religion. How can I make Maori a religion?" In probably a very unconvincing manner I explained that all religions have a set of beliefs but that what distinguished religions was the institutionalization of them. Honestly, I need to double check the recipe of religion making cause I am not sure about that but its the only thing I could conjure up at the time .

We got off the bus and I walked the Innercity Bus stop and he walked to take the #12. I beleive this meeting solidified our aquaintance-ship or even a friendship, so if I was wrong about the religion/institution thing I am likely to have the chance to clean it up soon...LOL!

Our NZ to East Coast USA English Dictionary

Clinton and I thought it would be fun to track the different lingo we hear here in NZ. When possible, we will also provide explanation or sentences of how its used.

New Zealand Word=US or East Coast Equivalent

Carpark=Garage

Paper=Course/Class
Explanation: The Universities here consider "course" your course of study and the classes you take are "papers."

Entree=Appetizer
Explanation: All the menus here start off with "entrees" which would be for us appetizers

Fanny= Deragatory word for Vagina
Explanation: So it's not cool to ask someone if they have a fanny-pack to lend you...LOL. Instead you should ask for a bum-bag.

Keen=Cool,I'm down

Mains=Entrees
Explanations: The main course at dinner; what we would call our entrees

Mate=Friend

Rock-melon=cantaloupe

Take Away = Take out

Give way = Yield

Badly dubbed English commercials = English

Gridiron = American Football

Sunnies = Sunglasses

Fizzy Drinks = Soda, Pop, Coke (depending on where in the US you are from)

Clinton's 31st @ Part 1

Clinton's was making segway into the 30's and I thought it was the perfect excuse to take our first weekend trip away from Auckland.

I did LOTS of searching online looking at everything from campervans to luxury spas to figure out what kind of trip would be "Clinton." Areas that were too beachy or too spa-related or even too cultural would have been too "Yadi." So I decided on Rototua. It was a city about 3 hours South of Auckland and was famed for being the world's hottest spot (in terms of thermal/ volcanic activity) in the world. It was also know for its adventure-sports which was definitely up Clinton's ally. Just to make sure I was on the right track, I tell Clinton the plan...Rotorua, rental car, and hotel...which he replied with a shoulder-shrug, "Sure!" I was hoping for something a bit more enthusiastic since it seems Clinton (fortunately for me) says "sure" about 90% of the time. Clinton says it's because he likes to put a smile on my face...ahhh but also I know it's because he's just an easy going person to begin with.

In short, I was really hoping for some more excitement. So, I tell him about the secret activity I had planned for us to see if it would rattle-up some "umph." "We can go white-water rafting there too," I snuck into the conversation. His eyes broke from the hynoposis that the TV had him in, and gave me a big squinty-eye smile... that said it all! Rotorua and whitewater rafting it was!

On Friday, Feb. 26th I met Clinton at Hertz car rental on Victoria Street to begin our three day adventure. Picking up the car was part of the adventure because it would be the first time we drive on the right-side of the road...eekkk! Clinton took the driver seat (think shot-gun) and I sat in the front passenger seat (think driver seat) and we drove out of Hertz, making our first left turn onto a two-way street and barred left. We made it home (about 3/4 of the mile away...hehehe) and celebrated our successful drive into the carpark (garage). We weren't leaving to Rotorua till the next morning (saturday) 8am so the car would stay and wait for us at home.

Next on the iternary was the Chinese Lantern Festival in Albert Park. I told Clinton we would be meeting some people there and that we would eat dinner afterwards in hopes of him NOT choosing to eat before then. The "real plan" was that we would walk around the Lantern festival for about 40 minutes till our friends secretly congregated at an Indian Restuarant that I picked in Parnell for his bday dinner. Clinton is usually not keen to eat dinner before 6pm on any day BUT of course on this day he is asking to eat fish & chips before the festival. I tell him again that I had planned to meet these new friends and possibly have dinner with them afterwards....

Ok let me digress a bit and explain the term "New Friends," since I know you're thinking that we have been here less than 2 months which should make every friend "new." Well not exactly. Clinton arrived a month before me and in this time he made about 2 different circles of friends in Auckland...1) the urban professionals and 2) the young and cool Hawaiians who where actually from Fiji but said Hawaiian so that they can claim the states (LOL). When I arrived, he brought me into this social scene. In a matter of about a week, we hung out about 3 times with the urban professionals which opened them up to being "our" friends and not just Clinton's friends. I didn't hang out with the Hawaiian_Fijians much...so, they stayed Clinton's drinking/clubbing boys. Ok, so when I say "new friends" I literaly mean "people who we have not met yet." People who we came into contact with over email due to membership in the American NZ expat listeserve (meetup.com) or through American friends who have generousily extended thier NZ networks to us. So I really relly mean "new"...like blind-date new. wink.

Ok, recap. It was Friday evening and I had a surprise birthday dinner planned for Clinton at an Indian restuarunt in parnell with our urban professional friends and I was taking Clinton to the Lantern Festival for a little while to give them time to arrive. I told Clinton that we were going to the lantern festival to meet "new friends" and didn't want to eat before just in case we wanted to eat with our new friends if we liked them (LOL).

We got to the Lantern festival which was filled with people. There were electric-lit lanterns set up along the fountains, pathways and on several trees. There was a music concert and several other family activities scattered around the park. Clinton keeps asking me to call the "new friends" to see where they were. I make believe-text them and tell him that they replied saying that they left already and are at a restuarant in Parnell...(Do you get my hook...lol). Clinton somehow smells food in the park and nearly begs me to go get something to nibble on. Knowing that the state of hunger is not a pleasant one, I tell him to go. In the time that he went to go get some dumplings (which happen to be very good so we go back for seconds), I get a text from yet another "new friend" who I had not met yet stating that they were at the Lantern Festival. So when Clinton returns, we meet up with the different "new friends" which 2 are American but recently arrived to NZ for graduate school. I remind Clinton that we still have the original set of "new friends" waiting for us at the restuarant and that we should go. We jump in the cab, officially 20 minutes late and find our way to the restuarunt. As we walk to the back, Clinton spots our friends and is VERY surprised to figure out that the dinner was planned.

We had a lovely 2 and a half our dinner that consisted of 4 bottles of wine and several courses of food and a lovely fruit & custard cake (all for five people, total...lol). After dinner we did a few more cocktails and then off to bed to prepare for Rotorua at 8am.

Needless to say, it was a bit difficult to get out of bed the next morning. Clinton somehow found enough energy to get himself ready and then coax me through getting myself together. We made it out the house at 8am, we got into the car and excitedly road South to motorway 1. We stop real quick to get a signature hang-over breakfast to-go, aka McDonald's, and then rode to Rotorua commenting on the gorgeous blue skies, the layers of pillow-white clouds and the hilarious public announcement signs along the way.

As we approached Rotorua, we could smell the signature sulfur-filled air...yeah, we were close. The first stop in Rotorua was the tourist center so that we can pick up our white-water rafting and "Hell's Gate" tickets. I was hoping we would arrive in time for the 12:30 whitewater rafting but by the time we got there at 11:30am there was no room. So we booked the 2:45 rafting tour and decided to do Hell's Gate first. The best way for me to describe Hell Gate is like a park with about an hour long trail along ponds and waterfalls...excpet that the water was boiling at at times steaming...i.e the name "Hell's Gate." We enjoyed seeing the maginifence of mother nature. It reminded the both of us how blessed we are that mother-nature just doesn't decide to open up and shoot out all that lava right now. Instead for decades if not hundreds of years she is content with just letting out some of her gasses (literally) through spot like this on earth. Alleluyah.

Next, white-water rafting...whoohoo. The meeting spot for the rafting was supposedly close by. So I asks the Hell's Gate ticket lady just to make sure and she tells me to look for a green house not far a long the bend. Clinton and I hop into the car and drive for about 20 minutes (back and forth) BUT can't find this green house. It was about 2:45pm and didn't want to miss the rafting group so we go back to Hell's Gate and ask again. This time Clinton asks and he gets similar directions; however the lady adds that you don't have to leave the outdoor garage. Well, Ok...we ride up this rocky rode to a house that had very little green on it and no signs saying it was a rafting office. Clinton figured he would just get out and ask again. He returns to the car telling me to get out, we found it. So, we are unsure if it was our understanding of the directions or that New Zealanders give bad directions but we could have bunny-hopped to the office from Hell's gate. No need to harp on it since we've arrived and our minutes from white-water rafting.

to be continued....

Making paradise ours

Our Trip to Waiheke

So Clinton and I worked out the following division of labor and dinero (money), he takes care of the primary overhead of the household and I am in charge (planing and paying) of our excursions in NZ and beyond. For many of you who know me, this division of labor/financial resources is right up my ally. I love travel planning (having been called upon by a variety of friends for travel and social outing tips) and of all the things I won't second guess spending money on, travel is #1 on my list. So, one of our first excursions was a day trip to Waiheke Island. However, since I hadn't started working yet, Clinton took care of this one...Smile!

Waiheke is a island about 50 minutes on ferry from Auckland and it houses a few dozen wineries and olive farms (hmm, are they called olive farms...not sure, but hopefully you get it). Clinton and I went a few Saturdays ago. Having gone out the night before (girl's night and boy's night), we woke up a little sluggish but managed to pull ourselves together. We packed our nappie (backpack) with a blanket, towel, books and snacks and walked to the Viaduct to catch the ferry. $70 NZ dollars later (for 2 roundtrip adult tickets), we boarded the ferry, climbed up the stairs to the top deck and situated ourselves close to the boat's edge securing our view of the surprisingly clear blue waters and Auckland city skyline. The boat stopped in Davenport and picked up heaps (lots) of people and then continued full steam ahead to Waiheke.

We arrived to the beautiful island filled with rollings hills that sat spectalar million dollar homes (or at least they seemed to fit that price tag). As we made our way through the crowds, I asked Clinton whether he wanted to jump on and off buses or if he wanted to rent a car. He begrudedly reminded me that I was the excursion planner and that it was up to me. I had thought we would by a bus day pass that would allow us to jump on and off the bus but after seeing the long lines at the bus stops at the Quay, I began to second guess myself and thus asked about the possiblilty of renting a car. "Unfortunately," the older male staff stated, 'there are no cars for hire on the entire island." There goes that idea! He offered an alternative of walking to the middle of town and going to the beach there.

Clinton and I began the trek which lasted about 20 minutes and wasn't as scenic as I would have liked. Once we entered the center of the city, there was a strip (maybe 2 blocks long) with stores,restuarunts and real-estate offices. We were ready for lunch so we found a cute restuaruant situated between two stores that offered waterviews and fish & chips...that basically sealed the deal for Clinton.

The picturesque view from the restuarunt was of the beach and the small bay. We had a nice lunch, despite the fact that the food wasn't spectacular and Clinton found more evidence for his theory that restuarunt staff in NZ don't wear deodorant. We walked down to the beach and found a spot under a tree, laid out our blanket and took a yummy nap. The breeze felt wonderful and lulled me right to sleep...not that I need help falling a sleep (wink, wink). Clinton isn't much for just sitting in the beach so he made his way to the water and as he placed his toes into the fridged bay he jumped back and spent about 6 minutes (probably more like 15 minutes) amping himself up. He finally took the plunge but came out just as fast. LOL! So warning, even in summer, the waters of Waiheke are as cold as beaches in New England (and thats COLD).

After about an hour and an half on the beach, I got us walking to one of the nearest vineyards, Mudbrook. Well, it wasn't really walking distance (20 minute walk with some of it being uphill) but there wasn't any buses that went there and I was up for the challenge. Clinton..hmmm..yeah he really wasn't. BUT after much convincing and the buying of an ice-cream bar, Clinton was on board to walk.

15 minutes later (so thats about 5 minutes from arriving to the winery), we pass a group of young folk that so genoursily shared with us that both vineyards in that direction (the one we were walking towards) were closed for special parties. We turned back around and decided to go to the toursit office in the center of town to ask about buses to other vineyards. We arrive just after 3 and were told that the next bus was in 50 minutes and that most tasting rooms closed at 4. They also recommended that if we were going to any of the vineyards that we make a reservation because they become quite crowded at this hour.

I was totally bumped. Clinton and I sat on the steps of the tourist office trying to figure out our next move. Clinton suggested that we plan another trip to Waiheke were we get a car and make reservations to eat at the wineries. I knew he was right...visiting a winery was basically a lost case, so I agreed with him but stated I needed to at least have some WINE while in waiheke. So I suggested that we go back to the center of town, buy a bottle of waiheke wine and sit on one of the many benches we saw walking (for some reason it seams there are benches eerywhere...even in some of the most random of non-scenic places...LOL). We went to the store and bought a Esk Valley Reisling with two plastic wine cups. We then found a bench near by, twisted the bottle open (not very good but drinkable) and drank the whole thing while chit-chatting about this and that. We both realized what though this wasn't our ideal outcome, we were quite blessed to be sitting on this bench located on the beautiful island of wiaheke, in New Zealand. So, even though it was a bit of a ghetto-fabulous take on Waiheke, it was still a blessed one and it was ours.

We will be back!

Urban Culture in NZ....Hip Hop in full effect

Before arriving to New Zealand, I was told that hip hop was big here, especially amongst the Maori. And it sure is, but just a few years behind. Walking around the Waitangi festival felt like South Beach Memorial Day weekend circa 2003 with basketball jerseys, baggy jeans, basketball caps and Jay-Z. Clinton and I smiled as we watched the familiar scene take place in this unfamiliar place.

In the last month, I have seen continued evidence of the globalization of black urban culture. Last week, I had an interesting conversation with a young man, a student and Director of Student Union @ Waikato. I was sitting on the bus headed to the Hamilton bus terminal, when he asked me what papers (courses) I was taking. I told him I was teaching at Waikato and he smiled. I said I taught anthropology to which he looked confused so I explained it was the study of cultures. An older women with a heavy NZ accent overheard out conversation and asked me "how much land do we Maori have left?" I turned around and explained that I did not know that. "You said you study culture," she replied. I smiled awkwardly and stated that though I study culture and I've heard about the Maori struggle for land, I regrettably don't know how much land is left. The young man asked me what papers I taught and then explained to me that he is in his 3 year of Maori studies. We shared a few more details about ourselves, when he asked me where I was from. I am guessing he heard my accent. I told him I was from the US, from NYC. He smiled excitedly and said "Ahh, so you are a niggah," with his head cocked to the side and his right hand signalling a pistol. I smirked and shook my head and said "No, in NYC city they would consider me Latina." "Sweet As (meaning cool)! Laaatiiinna!" he replied as if having heard the term before. Beyond his NZ/Maori accented English, I still recognized his performance of US hip hop culture and use of niggah. And in this context, I understood his use of the n word as "are you part of the black NYC urban group" and not in the Jim Crow South put-down. I think back and consider a variety of other things I could have explained to him but didn't. I guess I was a bit surprised when I heard him say it, even though I got what his context was.

Well, we rode to the bus terminal and he walked me to my next bus to auckland. He explained that he liked talking to people and thus really liked his new job as director of the student union. He lives in the Coromandels (beautiful mountain range area in the east coast of Auckland) and his Iwi (Maori word for largest social unit of extended kin)is in Auckland. He gave me his business card and asked to stay in touch. As we walked away, two Maori guys, thin-built and in their upper 20s asked him how to get to some location in Hamilton. They explained that they were from south island and where trying to find this spot. The guys went back and forth sharing information about where they were from and calling each other "cous." The guys were really excited to be in Hamilton and didn't seem to mind talking to the guy for 3 minutes and not getting the bus information they needed. It was interesting to see thier interaction...it reminded me of seeing my puerto rican uncles in NYC asking a man for directions and then excitedly finding out he was puerto rican too.