Chris Bruns is a transplant from the Hoosier state (Indiana) and, while he'll never live there again, he's glad he grew up there because it made him appreciate Colorado more than any native ever could. It also makes Chris feel good when he sees he's skiing better than his Coloradoan ski buddies. Also, go Colts. Chris chose Western State because he wanted a small school in Colorado close to a ski mountain. Chris is involved in a number of clubs that include Native American Student Council (NASC), Asian Pacific Islanders Club (APIC), and Amigos. Chris was also an Orientation Leader for the summer of '06 and plans on re-living that experience next summer. Chris enjoys watching campy movies, hates popped collars, and, even though there isn't one for hundreds of miles from Gunni, he is a self-proclaimed roller coaster enthusiast and expert. Yep, Chris is pretty cool.
The Author
Chris Bruns
Year: Junior
Major: COTH and English
City/State: Marion, IN
Interests: Skiing, Hiking, Camping, Running, Photography, Filmmaking, ATVs, and Roller Coasters and Amusement Parks.
Chris's Articles
Last Thoughts in NZ
Having recently visited Milford Sound (New Zealand’s iconic geological feature) and Queenstown to bungy jump, jetboat a canyon, and fly-by-wire (A wingless, fan powered personal jet suspended by a wire in the middle of a small valley. The Facebook inclined can see a video on my profile), I now believe I’ve done everything I set out to do while in New Zealand. Yes, I have tramped the majesty that is the Southern Alps and I have braved the mighty Marmite. I have witnessed the elusive penguin and biked the ostentatious Otago Central Rail Trail. I have imbibed in the scrumptiousness that composes the south island’s prideful elixir known as Speight’s and have done a bunch of other stuff that warrants liberal overuse of adjectives.
And it’s a good thing, too, ‘cause I’m making like Eddie Murphy when he was still funny and coming to America. Yes, ‘tis but a few final exams before I head home. This, of course, leads to the final travel log in which I summarize and generalize an entire nation in a few short paragraphs. So, without further adieu, let loose the stereotypes.
The Queen: I have a hard enough time accepting that England still has a queen. I mean, how bass-backwards a country are you when you still have a monarchy? Yes, yes, I know she doesn’t have any real power and basically sits around all day scratching her royal bum with a gold sceptre but I think I still have a point. God save the Queen? Shoot, she’s old enough to be God’s mother (Granted it’d been a teenage pregnancy). Anyway, that said, why does New Zealand care about the Queen? She’s on the coins and her birthday is a national holiday. What the hey, New Zealand? The same goes for you, too, Australia and Canada. The way I see it, England is the mother country and most of her children grew up to be doctors, lawyers, and other assorted, well-rounded countries. But then she also had a rebel of a child who grew up to be a rockstar and didn’t give a rat’s butt what mum or the other siblings said. I’m talking, of course, of the British Virgin Islands. Next topic.
No matter how much you tell ’em otherwise, Kiwis (and the rest of the world) will think you’re a “yank” even if you’re not from NYC: Gad! I can’t begin to describe my annoyance with the kiwi tendency to generalize a country that is multitudes times multitudes larger than their own when here I am already able to detect the subtle differences between people in a Colorado-sized country after only a few months. I think the proof’s in the pudding: Americans use the term “Yankee” as well…but it’s directed towards a specific area of the country (Or a baseball team). Tsk, tsk, New Zealand. I thought better of you.
As though it weren’t enough having Kiwis call me a Yank, I got this neighbour, Howell, from Atlanta who’s calling me one, too. It all started out with the Kiwis calling Howell a Yank; this upset him. I, being a fellow countryman, took his side. He foolishly broke the alliance and started calling me a Yankee.
First off, the South calling the North “Yankees” is an uber-overgeneralization. This is akin to much of the rest of the world calling the U.S. “Yankees”; also an overgeneralization. Funny, I thought that was the point Howell was trying to make to the Kiwis. Hmm, almost as if he’s saying one thing and doing another. Huh. How about that.
Secondly, Georgia is more a “Yankee” state than either Indiana or Colorado. Why? Because Georgia was one of the original 13 colonies, that’s why. You know, one of the 13 colonies that declared the Revolutionary War on Britain? I believe it was the Brits who originated the word “Yankee” in reference to their enemy: America. And, since Georgia was a part of America at the time and because neither Indiana nor Colorado was, Georgia is a Yankee state and Hoosiers and Coloradoans are not. I did not hesitate to let Howell know this. So, for all you non-Yanks out there: if a Georgian ever calls you a Yank, you can tell ‘em to stick it in their peach-hole.
The Haka: A haka is a Maori posture dance of varying kinds (Thank you, MAOR101 textbook glossary!). It’s not always a war-dance as many people assume. Anyway, the All-Blacks, The NZ national rugby team, performs a peruperu (war-dance) style haka before each bout as the opposing team looks on.
So, that’s pretty interesting for awhile. I mean, it looks pretty tough and all but it’s kind of a gimmick. They’ve been doing this haka for years and only after a few months I’m already tired of it. I mean, we get upset when NFL players excessively celebrate in the end-zone and here the All-Blacks are doing a big, elaborate show before each game. I guess if you showboat enough times it turns from “tacky” to “tradition”.
Recently, the All-Blacks played Ireland. NZ won but, before the game, an Irish player was quoted as saying the haka had lost its appeal. Well, some Kiwis got upset about this but, hey, that’s the way the cookie crumbled. Some went to that old standby response: “Yeah, I bet you’d be sacred if you had to face the haka!” No. If I were an opposing rugby player the haka would not be intimidating. I mean, would I really believe the All-Blacks were going to kill me? If I were the first European to set foot on New Zealand and I saw a band of Maori do a peruperu in my direction then, yes, I would likely soil myself because they actually would intend to kill me. But the All-Blacks? A bunch of jocks who took dance lessons? Not scary.
On a side note, every once and awhile I hear a dig about America’s rugby team and their shoddy showing on the world stage. The first thing I say is, “We have a rugby team?” The second response is, “You might as well beat us at Boggle. We feel the same way about both games.” And then I think: our rugby team is probably composed of players not good enough for the NFL and there are a lot of cruddy NFL players as it is. One year, we ought to get our best footballers and assign them to the rugby team. Just one year. In that year, we can go ahead and dominate basically everybody because football is a game that requires more precision while rugby is more sloppy; footballers would actually have to take a step back to be on the same level as most rugby teams. Yep, so let’s go ahead and organize the best footballers America has to offer. It shouldn’t be hard; one flight to Indianapolis ought to do it. Boo ya!
Kiwi TV: I know, I know, I’m in a foreign land and shouldn’t waste my time with television but, hey, gimme a break; I can’t be travelling 24/7, you know.
New Zealand television is a mixed blessing. On the down side, most of the original New Zealand shows are cruddier versions of our cruddy shows. They have Home and Away which is a crappier, Australian The OC and Shortland Street which is pretty much a medical soap opera but it’s popular with the kids for some reason. They have versions of So You Think You Can Dance and they have an American Idol type show and, if you didn’t think the “stars” on Dancing with the Stars weren’t obscure enough, you should take a look at what constitutes a star in New Zealand. If it’s not an original show then it’s probably an American show that’s been cancelled for four years. That doesn’t stop the commercials from billing them as “America’s favourite Comedy (or drama, or whatever)”, though.
On the plus side, On Christmas Day, Good Friday, and Easter, there are no commercials! Let me tell you something, there’s nothing quite like watching Beethoven and Beethoven’s 2nd back to back on regular television without commercial interruption.
Alright, it’s taken me 3 weeks to write this entry so I’m gonna go ahead and cap it here.
Peace out.
Chris