Holiday Revue

I started writing this entry two weeks ago. Then I came down with some kind of bronchial infection, and it knocked me flat.

The week after Thanksgiving I was furiously re-writing my last paper – to submit it for the April conference, I had to cut it down by two-thirds. I managed to finish on time, but by the end I wasn't feeling too well. I even went to a doctor, who prescribed an antibiotic. But I also had a really, really bad cough - so bad my voice was destroyed and I couldn't sleep at night. When I asked for a prescription cough suppressant, however, I was told they don't prescribe cough syrups – just take some whiskey. (The good news is my paper was accepted.)

Just before Thanksgiving I found out how much massaging goes into grade calculations here at the university. James – the colleague who invited me over for Thanksgiving – had warned me, since his department went through the exercise the day before. The best I can say is that it was not as bad as at the private school where I taught employment relations law last summer – which isn’t saying much. The pressure to pass – regardless of how students performed - is just plain disturbing. Especially since the pass rate is only 50%.

Thanksgiving at James’ was good fun, although celebrating such a traditional holiday with someone else's traditions induced a bit of cognitive dissonance. Like when James proudly displayed a packet of real, American McCormick’s gravy mix. I was flabbergasted – what about the pan drippings? I whined enough they finally let me make the gravy. (The week before, James had informed me his mother sent stuffing mix because he "couldn't find cornmeal here." He's from the south, so I understood that stuffing has to be cornbread. But it doesn't have to be mix from a box. The next day I brought him a bag of cornmeal; I’d found a source ages ago.)

The real shock came after dinner. James and his wife Adele had prepared tons of food: in addition to the roast turkey, they had another turkey smoked on the grill, plus a ham, plus all the trimmings. (Including my pumpkin pie, which was served at the end, of course. The husband of a British couple looked at it dubiously and asked, is that pudding? No, it’s pie. Pumpkin pie – traditional Thanksgiving dessert. It’s sweet? Yes, and with lots of spices – cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg. Clearly dubious, they each tried a piece. Neither finished.)

With all that for 6 adults, 1 adolescent male, and 4 children, even after James packed generous goody bags for everyone to take home there was a lot of food left. Which he proceeded to feed into the garbage disposal. I felt utterly scandalized - and helpless since, unlike the gravy, this was beyond me. I had to satisfy myself with imagining what would happen to him if my grandmother was there to see what he was doing.

The past few weeks have also been full of Christmas lunches and dinners, which are scheduled so early here because everyone leaves for summer vacation well before the actual holiday arrives. This year the Commercial Law Department Christmas celebration was also a farewell dinner – four people are leaving at year end, including Ian, who’s been at the uni for 31 years. To begin his toast, Mike, our Head of Department, congratulated himself on being able to knock out all the festivities with a single event – which managed to make cheap what had otherwise seemed perfectly fine.

Mike has always struck me as a bit of an odd duck – he’s a fine gentleman, while at the same time sort of a ruthless mercenary with a touch of cultural insecurity. But after dinner, as my colleagues polished off amazing quantities of wine, he told me an illuminating story. His great-grand uncle, who was the Marquise of Townsend, was a bachelor - so Mike’s family expected to succeed him in the "marquiseship" (or whatever). Then, late in life his uncle got the maid preggers and married her, so Mike’s family was suddenly cheated out of their great expectations. Somehow it seemed to explain everything.

The next day was our department’s “strategic planning” meeting, which, it turns out, was necessary because two of the people leaving, Ian, and his partner, Louise, are by far the most celebrated – and productive - researchers in our department. And they’re leaving, at least in part, because the Business School dean has threatened to merge us into the accounting & finance department. Worse, apparently their departure makes such a merger all the more likely. Our only alternative is to seek refuge in the Law Department - itself an unsavoury outcome, barely avoided last year. (The problem in either case is that a merger will likely result in significant layoffs for our group.) Two hours of strategizing, however, resulted in a decision to hold another meeting after the holidays. Ah well, turns out academics is a lot like corporate life – with less pay.

Never mind. Ali will be back the day after tomorrow, and I'm so happy I feel like a wriggly little puppy inside. I spoke with him this morning, and it’s been a good trip. Besides seeing lots of friends and family, he's had some job interviews. (And a head hunter in Auckland – who wouldn’t give him the time of day before - wants to see him when he returns.)

The thought that we might be leaving NZ made me really sad at first. But, on the other hand, I’ve also been here long enough to understand the country’s problems – and to have a new appreciation for the U.S. At this point I don't really care where we end up, so long as we end up there together.

Cheers,
Sandie