Earning New Zealand

Don’t let the title fool you. I did not earn New Zealand. In fact, if I wasn’t so damn poor, I’d be shamed of this story.

I had planned all along to backpack New Zealand on my way back to America. I even bought my flights back in April with this in mind. The only problem is that I don’t actually have a backpack; trying to go “backpacking” with my rolling luggage is just a wee bit pathetic.

However, before I get a chance to buy a shiny new pack, I have a conversation with my mother. She doesn’t want me to go to New Zealand, and is more than willing to use the power of the purse against me. What the hell got into her?

Rather than challenge her directly, I go around her. You know how kids used to do it; Dad says no, so you run screaming to Mom before they can strategize with each other. It’s so much easier when they’re divorced. Despite my father usually being the paranoid one, he seemed to have no problem. I even got backup support from my Uncle for extra leverage.

In retrospect, getting the okay from my Uncle is not the reassurance my Mom wants. He once backpacked through Pakistan despite being jewish, and financed his travels by driving cars across the border with Iran and agreeing to never look in the trunk or ask questions. Stellar role model.

I went back to my Mom and presented her with the facts and the family’s unilateral support. She was unwavering. So I pulled out my big guns:

“Mom, this is New Zealand. The worst case scenario is that I get raped by roving bands of sheep.”

This triggered it. She broke down and revealed the real reason she was afraid of me going to New Zealand: She was scared of me traveling to strange cities alone, going to gay bars, and getting picked up by strangers who proceed to take me home, rape me, and kill me.

So, what’s wrong with this picture? For starters, there are only 4 million people in New Zealand, as opposed to 40 million sheep. Every man, woman, and child can have a harem of 10 sheep to his or herself. There are only 4 cities worth mentioning, and I have doubts there’s a single gay bar in the South Island. The “raped by sheep” scenario is far more plausible.

Add to that the fact that I’ll have way more important things to do than go to a sketch gay club, and I’ve already been living a hedonistic club life right here in Brisbane, going home by no less than the bartender, and I have to wonder what she’s really afraid of. Brisbane, I understand. Sydney, even I’m alittle scared of. But fucking New Zealand?

However, she offers a compromise. She’ll let me go to New Zealand if I go with a tour group, the scenario under which I went to Europe years before. I laughed in her face, then told her essentially that I’m not giving up my freedom to go on a tour group, and that I’ll go with or without her permission. She could threaten all she wants, but ultimately she’s powerless.

So, she fell back on her last resort: Bribery. If I went on a guided tour, she’d pay for half. I agreed, on the condition that the tour be even better than the solo trip I was planning on taking. I then went to find such a grossly extravagant tour. STA had a convenient list, and I immediately went for the priciest tour at $2000. She agreed, and deposited $1000 free no-strings dollars in my account by week’s end. I didn’t realize how much I’d accidentally ripped her off.

For starters, I rounded. The trip was actually only $1800. Secondly, I changed my mind last minute and went for the $1600 tour, which meant I only paid for about a third. And finally, I realized all the prices were given in New Zealand dollars; the tour only cost 1200 American. Essentially, I got to travel to New Zealand almost for free, and to my total discredit, I never mentioned a thing to her or offered a refund.

Turns out, the ones with the last laugh is STA Travel. When I got my itinerary, I found nearly all the activities had suspicious ** next to them. Looking in the back, I found out what I feared: ** means Optional Activity, which means you pay for it yourself. I thought the price seemed too good to be true, and it was; they pay for cheap lodging, the ferry between islands, and some meals. If I want to go bungee jumping or dolphin feeding or cave abseiling, it was coming right out of my own pocket. The trip really would be half and half after all.

But like a Korean masseuse, there’s a happy ending to this story. I remembered that $1500 scholarship from Americorps for underwater weed pulling that I never cashed in. You know that feeling when you find 20 bucks in your wallet you forgot you had? Multiply that by 75. Even though it was my money all along, it felt like a free gift, and went recklessly spending accordingly. Now I understand the stupidity people feel when they get a tax refund check. Dumb schmucks.