here's a bit about the people we've run into thus far.
Gary--a "special" (so described by Chinese/incognito lady, who claims the Chinese should not be judged by him) Chinese guy who insists on feeding us & who has quite set old-school, traditional views on gender roles. For example, he believes we should be good cooks; obviously, we are not. One day, after we'd consumed a meal of peas & Ramen-esque noodles, Gary made a fabulous Chinese dish saying that he had leftovers b/c he'd cooked enough for us, too, though we'd said we didn't want to mooch dinner off him. Since he had leftovers, Liz & I wanted to try his rice-noodle dish that smelled so fabulous, so we asked for his leftovers, as he was about to throw them away. We were able to get a bite in before he took the leftovers from us, threw them away, & insisted upon making us a fresh batch of food, b/c that's when it tasted the best & he didn't like us eating his leftovers! Also claimed that he couldn't think of anything that women do better than men.
Tom--a painfully shy Chinese computer geek who works in the vineyard & lives w/ us. For some reason, everyone now calls him Mr. Tom, & calls out his name whenever he enters a room, embarrassing the poor guy. he takes it well.
Owen--our 20-year-old chinese supervisor, who definitely looks out for us, is extremely helpful, nice, & fun, hooking us up w/ good jobs, giving us a beer @ lunch, sharing his snacks (he isn't a cook either; in fact, he goes to a different house every night for dinner, & pays someone to buy his groceries). We love picking on him, & figure he needs it, him being supervisor & w/o young people around & all.
Mr. Clyde--the owner of our suburban house-turned-hostel, an old, lonely, ugly, smoking, drinking curmudgeon of a man, who, w/ utter sincerity, believes his place is clean & tidy, when in actuality, it's disgustingly filthy, along the lines of a port-o-pot. Despite this, he's actually rather nice, & we plan to take in Te Mata peak w/ him.
Ali & Allan--our Iranian-turned-kiwi hostel-mates, who are crazy! We 1st talked to them on the day they completely smashed their car, so badly it couldn't even be sold for junk parts. They took it w/ aplomb, as they always seem to be in trouble of some kind. Ali had a protruding bump on his head; we asked if it was from the accident. Alas, it was not from a car collision, but from a beer bottle repeatedly colliding w/ his body, none of which he remembers, as he was drunk. They're both quite funny & keep us entertained, telling great stories, even making us way-too-salty (a drunken mistake), Persian rice.
we ran into a kiwi outside the library in Hastings, who was preparing to get a map of NZ tattoo to cover her entire back. I can't imagine anyone from the U.S. doing this, & if they did, that they'd be ridiculed by internationals.
Nicholas--a Legolas look-alike w/ very refined features. French friend of Ali & Allan (of course) who managed to almost cut off his index finger by using a table saw after drinking 2 beers, warranting a trip to the hospital, whereby he hid the laughing gas so conveniently forgotten in his room under his bed, utilized it repeatedly, & refused to share it w/ his roommate!
