Barefoot Bars and Pub Cats
I was warned several times while in Whitianga and Tauranga that heading to Gisborne was a different place. That Bay of Plenty and Poverty Bay had names for reasons and to be more careful. So of course, living in South Central for many years of my L.A. life, I donned my "city girl" cap and readied myself for the worst. Now, although I do not have the statistics of crime for Gisborne and whether it truly is more dangerous, I don't believe "city girl" is the demeanor necessary for this area. In fact, a "country girl" may fair better. For it wasn't the threat of gang violence or assault I encountered upon arrival, but the "off the grid" and rural worker lifestyles. When my Naked Bus (No, you don't ride naked. Yes, Kiwis love to tease foreigners about this.) stopped midway to Gisborne in Otoko, I knew I was in for a drastic change from my previous Whitianga beach luxury. My pretty purple suitcases looked a bit ridiculous as I tugged them through the mud and into a "cozy" cabin filled with soil on the floor for seedlings and hard food encrusted dishes spread about the kitchen. This included a small tour to the bathroom where the fine scent of rancid water and sewage awaited me. For you see, water conservation in this rain water only home required more than just using less water (dishes only washed once at night with one pot of boiling water, so it gets cold and dirty fast. Ew.) Every drop must be saved, every drop reused. So leftover dirty dish water is stored in the bathroom to flush the toilet. Like I said, country girls may fair better in this environment. I only made it to day three and it wasn't the toilet, dirt or bad smells that had me on the side of the road waving down another bus to Gisborne -- it was the midnight feeding times due to slow cooking on a small woodstove. Funny enough, I can brave bad hygiene and the slightly kooky/defensive social demeanors of "off the grid" residents, but I apparently can't do it on an empty stomach. Nope! On to the next host in Gisborne where cockroaches at night falling on your face out in a caravan seems luxurious after the Otoko experience. And it was. Good people, good food and good cider. All found at the local pub where farmers, workers and families congregated. A place where you might get laughed at if you don't come comfortable. And by comfortable, I mean barefoot, sweats or dirty work clothes because a working farm day may be about efficiency, efficiency, efficiency -- but the night holds the luxury of absolutely no pretense. And that stands out far more than the beaches, surfing or gorgeous Waioeka Gorge amidst the native bush Gisborne has to offer. That and the one crazy ornery bar cat. Cheers and hats off to the harvesters of this world! They work hard folks.
