Journal 2

2-20

Well, today’s Sunday and I got up at 9 (what a long sleep! haha) and saw that Lewis, who’s our driver of sorts, was getting ready to go into town, so I put on my nicest shirt and a pair of jeans and hopped on for a ride to church. I got into town at 9:30 and I knew that the one church I’d seen on the main street didn’t start until 10, so I stopped into a café on the way and had some eggs and toast for breakfast. The owner of the place came to the counter and asked what I’d like, and when I said “is it possible to just get eggs and toast?” he laughed a bit at my American accent and said yes, it was. He was a tidy looking man with thin rimmed glasses and a checkered shirt and a bit of a snooty look which I kind of distrusted at first, but he seemed nice enough. Here’s how our conversation went as he was scrambling the eggs:

Him: So what brings you into Dannevirke?

Me: Well I’m working at PM Shearing, and I came in for some breakfast and church.

Him: (Raising his eyebrows) Paewai Shearing? My advice to you, girl, is to get outa that as soon as you can.

Me: Yeah? Why’d you say that?

Him: It’s a cesspool of drunks, girl! Granted, you get that with a lot of shearers, but Paewai’s one of the worst I’ve heard.

Me: Yeah, I found that out as soon as I got there. I’ve been making due, but I don’t drink much.

Him: Well how long’re you there for?

Me: Through the first weekend of March for the Golden Shears competition. Then I think I’ll find another place.

Him: You know a lot about sheep?

Me: No, I’m just learning. I worked at a dairy farm back in the States.

Him: Oh yeah? I’m a dairy farmer myself. Do you have another job lined up?

Me: Nope, not yet.

Him: Well stop back in here, girl, and talk with me and I’ll see if I can get you set up somewhere. If I don’t need help I’ll know someone who does. All the diary farmers are coming to the end of the busy season, so they’re letting their hired fellas off for a holiday and they need some temporary work.

Me: Sounds perfect! I’ll be sure to come in again soon!

So that was my breakfast conversation, and it made me pretty happy. All except for him being so down on PMS, which made me feel kind of sad.

I finished up my eggs and toast, which was delicious, and headed off down the street to St. John the Baptist Anglican Church, which was a big white church with a bell in the top. I dig church bells. I’d been to Anglican services in Scotland before, so I had some idea of what to expect, vis, a sort of mixed Catholic, Lutheran and Pentacostal service. Sure enough, I knew the first hymn we sang from St. John’s at home and the second one from Victory, the nondenominational church where we went when I was really small. Instead of a sermon today they had a testimony from a woman from the congregation, and it was really interesting and hit a couple of chords in me. Of course, with the familiar hymns and all the nice looking people and the quiet beauty of the church I started crying like a complete dummy, and couldn’t seem to stop. I was the most homesick I’ve been since getting here. I eventually got up to go find some kleenex and when I got to the back of the church there was a lady getting ready to help with the offering and she asked if I was ok. I said I was, but that I needed a tissue, and she walked me around to the church office and found me some and we talked for a little bit about the US and why I was here, and places she’d been, and how this service was unusual for them as they usually had the normal hymns-lessons-sermon-communion sort of thing. By the time we got back into church I’d calmed down a bit, and she gave me a hug and said she hoped to see me again next week, and I said she probably would. I went back and sat down in my pew and then went up to communion and almost started crying again, but got everything under control until the end of the service.

I don’t know exactly why I got so emotional, except that I felt really homesick, and being surrounded by so much love all of a sudden hit me sideways. Hopefully it won’t happen again next week, but it’s nice to know that I have a place once a week where I can feel that way.

Also! The minute the pastor (or vicar? Or father? I don’t remember what Anglican pastors are called) started speaking I almost jumped ‘cause he sounded American! Turns out he’s from Canada, and was glad to know a fellow Northerner. He also introduced me to a sheep farmer in the congregation when he heard what I was up to, and the farmer said he’d let me know if he needed any help. Kiwi’s are nice to begin with, and then you meet church-going Kiwis and you just about get bowled over by their helpfulness, haha!

So that was my Sunday experience in Dannevirke. I’m not sure what I’m gonna do with the rest of the day. Maybe go for a hike.