Dinner Party

12-2-2014

            The house we live in is not a nice house. It’s old. Really old. At least 150 years old, according to the landlord. The wallpaper is peeling off, the carpet is bare in spots, and the place smells like wet dog. The architecture is really neat, with ceilings at least twenty feet high, a big open living room and kitchen, two bathrooms (although only one is working), four bedrooms, and a large hall with a door at the end. There’s also a wrap-around porch, but there’s a shredded old couch barring the door to the hallway from the outside. I’d move it if I was willing to touch the couch, but I’m not.

On the bright side, there are no pests in the house, no bugs at all except the moths that fly to the light if we leave a window open after dark. The hot water works well and never runs out, the wood stove fireplace works in the kitchen and not only keeps the place warm but also boosts the hot water, and the electricity works great. There’s a refrigerator, two freezers, a stove, and a dining room table and chairs, a working toilet, and a shower with good water pressure. It needs a lot of fixing up, but it’s only $5 a night, sot it’s cheaper (and warmer) than the campground. Freedom camping on the farm is allowed, and free, but there are no amenities. None. So we pay a little and get a lot. And actually, since Luke and I have managed to fill the house full of people for the landlord, and we’ve agreed to look after it, we get to stay here for free. I don’t think he’s missing out on much since without us (or, more accurately: without Luke) not a single person would be staying here. We’ve managed to fill it up.

            There are fourteen of us in this house. There are two girls from Austria, a group of three girls from Germany, another girl on her own from Germany, a local Kiwi from Christchurch area, a guy on his own from Bavaria who used to pay to use the utilities and sleep in his campervan but has since moved into the house, a young hitchhiking dude from France, and two Asians who met at their last place of work. One is from China and the other is from South Korea.  The Austrians and the German girl are all sharing one room, the other German girls are sharing another room, and the boys are sharing the end room. Luke and I have our own room on the other side of the hall. It’s next to the living room and shares the fireplace with the living room, but unlike the one in the kitchen this one is all boarded up. There’s a closet with no doors but plenty of hooks, and a door to the outside, which is nice because we come and go at very inconvenient hours and we don’t want to wake the whole house up when we do.

The Asians arrived a few days later than everyone else and they are sleeping in the hall. A guy from France just moved in a few days ago, too, because his friends were all going back to France but he couldn’t afford to yet, and he got left behind. He’s sleeping on the couch in the living room. I was worried he wouldn’t feel welcome because we already had a good group dynamic and we were all a little weary of more people coming and using all the utilities, but everyone is getting along great. He fits right in and it’s as if he’s been here the whole time.

            Everyone who lives here works at the blueberry farm, so we’re all gone all day. But in the evenings the place comes alive. We sit and socialize around the table in the kitchen area, cooking and hanging out. Mostly everyone speaks English. They say that it’s rude not to speak English in the presence of people who don’t understand their language, but I really enjoy it when everyone is speaking German to each other, or when the two Frenchmen speak French. Sometimes we just sit and learn about German and Germany, or Austria, but usually we speak English. It’s a good opportunity for those who don’t know English that well to sit in and listen, since we all speak slowly enough to be understood. It’s good practice for anyone who wants to participate. We often talk about New Zealand too, and the cool adventures we’ve already been on, and we recommend places to each other not to miss. 

            However, it’s rare that everyone is home at the same time. If we’re not at work people often go into town for wireless internet, groceries, or to do laundry. There’s a campground in town as well, and a lot of the travelers who speak the same language have become friends, so people are often running around visiting each other outside of work. Or, in the case of me and Luke, we’re just always at work. We’re the first ones up and gone every day, and the last ones home and to bed every night.

            So, yesterday when all the picking was called off because of rain, the plan for a house dinner was hatched. Everyone was home at the same time, except me and Luke, so it was just about perfect. We still had work to do, but we got an invite nonetheless, and I refused to miss it.  And honestly, it was kind of nice to just get an invite and not have to organize anything. I’ve been doing a lot of organizing lately.

The girls from Austria and our newest resident from France knew where to find heaps of mussels, so a number of people went gathering that afternoon. I would have loved to go but I couldn’t because I still had work to do. Today is pay day, so I spent all yesterday getting everything in order. I spent my entire morning on the phone with the main branch in Ohaupo. I thought I was done at 4:30. I had all the information sent up, everything scanned in, explained, and idiot proof. But I was wrong. I ended up working until 8:00. I almost missed dinner. Luckily for me low tide was at 6:00 so dinner was set to be late anyways because they couldn’t gather mussels at high tide.

I got out just in time to buy a case of beer before the store closed and arrived home just as the scrubbing was finishing up and the first round was being put on the stove. We steamed them in white wine and had a variety of mixed vegetables, like zuchinni and carrots, and some steamed white rice for sides. The whole house smelled good.

            There are only 6 chairs provided at the table, so we gathered up all our camping chairs and squeezed all but two in. Two people would just have to eat over their laps, or reach to the table. We all grabbed plates and bowls, sharing with each other because some of us have sets of silverware and dishware and pots and pans, while others have nothing but a single bowl and spork. We all just share everything all the time anyway, although we do use our own stuff if we can find it. But the dishes are all cleaned together at the end of meal time, and piled onto one part of the kitchen counter to dry. There they stay until we use them again, so anyone can use anything so long as they clean it once they’re done.

Once we sorted the dishes out we piled the mussels into bowls on the table. Bowls, pans, and Tupperware full of mussels filled the entire table. We just barely had room to put a few empty Tupperware out for the shells. It was such a sight that those of us with cameras got up and took pictures, especially of the expressions of some of the people who hadn’t ever eaten mussels before. The local Kiwi guy hadn’t ever had them, which surprised us. He said he was uncomfortable with the idea of eating them, because he hadn’t really eaten seafood before, but he was willing to eat with the rest of us. We laughed and told him not to think about it too much.

He ended up enjoying them a lot.  We all did. They were really quite tasty. He was surprised out how much they tasted like the sea, but the white wine they were cooked in helped to mellow that flavor out.

Once in awhile one of us would find a tiny little crab in one of the mussels. I found one in the shell, and one actually in the mussel itself. Both were the size of my pinky nail. Both were full of bright orange eggs in their bellies. As soon as I felt the crunch when I bit into the mussel, I spit it out. A little grainy is normal. Crunchy is not. Yuck. Luckily that was a rare occurrence. I was the only person “lucky” enough to find two.

Overall, everyone was happy with the mussels.  We ate so many mussels that we were all actually full. Normally you pay $20 for a half a dozen mussels, and even though they’re delicious, they’re not filling. At our table we had dozen upon dozens of mussels.  More and more pots full kept being put on the table, but after awhile we just couldn’t eat any more. We have leftover cooked mussels. And we have a whole bin of mussels we haven’t cooked yet. We’re thinking of giving them to the landlord. He talked about giving us some venison off a huge red stag he just shot in the bush last weekend, so we could trade.

We sat at the table long after we had finished eating mussels and continued to socialize. A few of us had bought beer and wine in preparation and we passed it all around and shared everything. With fourteen of us there, a case of beer was handed out in one go-around. We had about 3 cases of 15 (which is apparently more normal than 12-packs here), a few bottles of wine, white and red, some hard cider, gin, and tonic water. I hate gin. I’ve cleaned up some seriously drunken friends who smelled of gin, and cleaned up their barf, and ever since then I can’t stand the smell of it, yet alone drink it. But the wine was delicious. As was the sweet red cider, and definitely the beer.

All the beers were gone right around midnight. The wine was all finished, and the tonic water was gone so nobody was drinking gin anymore. Midnight is about normal bedtime for us, so some of us said our goodnights and went to bed. I was really tired. Call it a combination of high work loads and some stress, but alcohol makes me sleepy so I was tired. Luke and I went to bed. But a group of people stayed up and smoked cigarettes out on the porch. I have no idea how late they stayed up. Even though they were standing right outside our door, I fell asleep right away. If anything, the murmur of their voices just put me to sleep faster.

It was a great night. One of the best in New Zealand so far, and I know I’m not the only one who thinks so. Some of us have to be pretty good friends, and we’re planning on traveling a bit together after we leave the blueberry farm. It just so happens that our planned leave dates were already within a few days of each other, so we have tweaked them a little bit and we’ll travel together to Stewart Island after this.  I can’t wait!