“Oh, it’s just like a bad flu season”.
“The media is just sensationalizing this and creating unnecessary fear”.
“This won’t affect me”.
These were several thoughts that crossed my mind, and maybe yours, in the months of January and February. How wrong I was. For many of us, this global pandemic was unexpected and unprecedented. It has completely changed our lives, for better or for worse, for the foreseeable future.
For those who do not know, I resigned my desk job back in early February with plans to travel through Japan, Thailand, Australia, and New Zealand for 6 months before returning to the United States. I had exciting plans to meet up with a few friends from the US in Japan and Thailand before continuing onto Oceania by myself.
As March approached, the severity of COVID-19 became more and more apparent. Cases started to be reported all over the world. Flights began to be cancelled. One of my friend’s flight to Thailand was cancelled since it was routed through China. She wisely decided to head home. My other friend that I was supposed to meet in Thailand had been there since late February and decided to stick it out until the end of his trip, which was mid-March. Thankfully, he made it home safely and without any serious travel complications. Around this time, my family friend in Japan began voicing concern of the virus’ trajectory in the densely populated country. This was the first blatant sign for me that my plans were being thrown out the window. Once the announcement was made for schools to close in Japan, I knew it was unwise to travel there. The night before I was supposed to depart for Tokyo, I decided with a heavy heart to completely cancel the leg of my trip through Japan and Thailand.
Early March was a complete whirlwind. News on the virus escalated hourly. However, at that time, it seemed like New Zealand had been relatively unscathed. If I remember correctly, there had only been 5 or so reported cases in early March. After discussing it with my parents, I decided to still travel to New Zealand – a safe-haven compared to many other countries. My plans had drastically changed, but I was still content and excited to travel to a new country. And although COVID-19 seemed bad, it did not seem like it would get THAT much worse.
Wrong again.
On March 10th, I boarded a flight from Austin, TX to Los Angeles, CA. I spent the 10th and 11th visiting friends in Los Angeles. Although an outbreak of COVID-19 was beginning to occur in the City of Angels, it honestly did not feel dangerous. Things felt relatively normal. People were still out and about. Later that evening, when we were hanging out with my friend’s roommates (who are still in school), the state of things started to sink in. They were telling us that their classes had just been moved online. A rumor was also circulating that one of their classmates was fighting for their life against the novel coronavirus.
Oh yeah. The same day I was leaving the county, the World Health Organization declared COVID-19 a pandemic.
FUCK.
Nevertheless, I pressed on and boarded the flight to Auckland. That Saturday, March 14th, Jacinda Arden (New Zealand Prime Minister) announced that people entering the country would need to self-isolate for 14 days starting Monday, March 15th. With that announcement, I thought “oh wow, I guess I don’t have to self-isolate. I arrived in New Zealand in the nick of time”. But there was a voice in the back of my head that knew better.
As things seemed to be escalating quickly in New Zealand, I started to think about my finances and the future. Realistically, I could last probably 1 month without working, with barely enough for a plane ticket back to the States. This was a situation that I wanted to avoid if I could...With the future becoming more uncertain, I decided that I needed a job.
I started doing some research and it seemed like there were a lot of jobs in fruit picking and vineyards. Conveniently, it so happened that I had timed the kiwifruit season perfectly since many of the jobs were starting in mid-March. Worried that I would not have another opportunity to make money, I applied for several jobs with kiwi harvesting companies. One company, PackworkNZ, stood out so I followed-up with them on Facebook. Within 12 hours, I had secured a job with them and had started orchestrating my journey to the Bay of Plenty.
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The best part of not having a plan is having the flexibility to do whatever you want. Between Auckland and Tauranga, lies a special piece of Middle Earth: Hobbiton. Obviously, I could not pass up an opportunity to see the famed home of Bilbo Baggins. To give myself some more autonomy, I used a rental car transfer company to acquire some wheels on the cheap (only had to pay for gas). All I had to do was get the car from Auckland airport to the Rotorua airport by the end of the day. Including the little detour to the Hobbiton movie set, the drive to Rotorua was only 3 hours, which gave me plenty of time to experience Bilbo’s and Frodo’s hometown.
The drive down to Hobbiton was beautiful! It was quite strange driving on the left side of the road (especially when it came to making turns), but I am glad I drove instead of taking the bus. Once I arrived at Hobbiton, I was disappointed to see that there were only guided tours of the set ($$$). But I was already there – you know, halfway across the world – so it couldn’t hurt to cough up some extra dough to see this famous fictional town.
I kid you not, right as our tour bus pulled up to the entrance of the movie set, my phone (aka my camera) died. From 20% to 0% before the tour guide could finish saying “Welcome”. *face palm* I would come to learn that this was a blessing in disguise. Not only did I get to soak up the amazing craftsmanship of each Hobbit hole, but I was also more inclined to meet people. While I did enjoy being free of distractions during the tour of the set, there was no way I was leaving there without a photo to commemorate the experience. Once we reached the crowned jewel, I asked some friendly looking tourists in our group if they could take my picture and email them to me later. That’s when I met Thilo and his family. We bonded over Lord of the Rings and our recent travel experiences, and even shared a pint in the Green Dragon! At that time, Thilo and I both hoped to head to the South Island to explore all its splendors. Unfortunately, Thilo has since flown home to Germany due to COVID-19. Last I talked to him, he and his family are safe and healthy riding out the lock-down. Thilo, hopefully we will meet again, and this time on the South Island!
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After I dropped off the rental car at the Rotorua Airport, I took a relatively empty bus to Tauranga and then an Uber to my Airbnb. The following day I met with the PackworkNZ team for orientation. We hung around sharing beers as we met each other. The next day, they took us out to an orchard to show us how to pick kiwis and to show us all the hazards i.e. tractors.
The next step for me was to setup a New Zealand bank account and to move into one of the hostels that our company was going to offer transport from. Bank account first. That shouldn’t take long, right? Unfortunately, you are required to have an appointment, so I was turned away from several banks. The last one I visited wouldn’t even talk to me because I had not been in the country for more than 14 days. That was the first and only red flag.
Resigning to the fact that a bank account would have to wait, I gathered my things from my Airbnb and headed to the hostel. I had already booked a room so I thought the check-in would be no problem. When I got there, the lady at the front desk greeted me with a smile as she asked me how long I had been in New Zealand. I told her I had arrived just a week before, a day before the self-isolation policy had been put in place. She kindly told me that they wouldn’t allow me to stay there until I had been in the country for 14 days. My heart sank.
The lady also told me that the NZ policy was that ANYONE who had been in the country for less than 2 weeks had to self-isolate. In disbelief, I called the NZ COVID-19 hotline to confirm this policy. The operator quickly put my doubts to rest as I was instructed to self-isolate. At some point, the policy had changed. Or more likely: I misunderstood it. I felt guilty for not airing on the side of caution from the beginning. And in hindsight, I honestly feel stupid for not realizing that the self-isolation policy applied to me.
Thankfully, the lady who worked at the hostel was understanding and gave me a full refund. I grabbed my things and went out to the field across the street to begin my desperate search for accommodation. My fingers have never moved so fast on my phone. I messaged a handful of hosts explaining my situation hoping for some sympathy. Within 30 minutes, I had found a place to stay. A pleasant surprise, to say the least. Still feeling guilty for not having self-isolated earlier, I decided to walk to my Airbnb to prevent putting anyone else at risk.
I reallyyyy wish I had packed lighter. Carrying my 50ish pound duffle bag the 4 miles to the Airbnb was grueling. The bag has backpack straps, but they were intended more for “bus stop to hostel” type scenarios…
A couple of hours later, I reached my destination. A quaint little bach (another term for a modest vacation home in New Zealand) that was tucked underneath a house where you would expect a garage or basement. I settled in and ordered some Thai food with contactless delivery, seeing as I couldn’t go out and get food anymore. After settling in, I messaged my new employer to let him know of the situation. He was also very understanding and told me I would still have a job when I finished my self-isolating. I was relieved and honestly looked forward to having a place to myself for over a week. Optimistic, naïve Mathias thought it couldn’t get worse. Notice a trend?
On March 17th, Prime Minister Arden announced that New Zealand was, effective immediately, escalating to Level 3 Alert for COVID-19 and would be escalating to full lock-down, Level 4, in 48 hours. Mass panic ensued for backpackers.
Facebook backpacker group pages were overwhelmed with people trying to understand the Level 4 restrictions, people trying to figure out if flights had been cancelled, and people desperately searching for affordable lock-down accommodation. To say I was stressed out would be an understatement.
The way I saw it, I had two options: find an affordable place to live in the area so I could pick kiwifruit or get a flight home ASAP. The universe quickly narrowed that down to one option.
Flights leaving NZ began to be cancelled left and right. There was no guarantee if I bought a ticket that I was going to be able to go home. Things in the United States did not seem to be doing too hot either, so I wasn’t exactly in a rush to return home. Abandoning the go home option, I was able to focus on finding a place to stay.
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As a sidebar: the thought has crossed my mind about me being stranded in New Zealand for the foreseeable future and not being able to get back to my family. If something ever happened to them and I wasn’t able to be there, I don’t know how I would live with that. But the harsh reality of this coronavirus is that I would not be able to be with them physically if they did get sick, even if I were in the same city. To their credit, my parents selflessly urged me to stay since things are much safer here in general. Thankfully, they have been committed to social distancing and have practiced meticulous hygiene to reduce the risk of getting the virus. I do worry about them, but I think they have handled this all beautifully and I praise their commitment to staying safe. However, they love being with their friends and entertaining. It can’t be easy sacrificing that part of their life right now, especially with my sister and I out of the house. Go Janette and Per! I love you guys and think about you constantly.
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On one of those Facebook groups, I found a Dutch guy looking for roommates in the Mount Maunganui area (where my Airbnb was). After talking with him, I found out it would be three of us sharing a house that was within walking distance of the beach. The rent was reasonable, too. The Dutchman asked me what I was doing for work, as well. I recommended PackworkNZ because they seemed like an awesome company. Plus, it would have been nice to share a ride to work and get to know each other better. We all hit it off pretty well, so we committed to the house on Airbnb and paid for 1 month in advance. It seemed I had hit the jackpot on lock-down accommodation, and I thought I was out of the woods. But it was far from over.
The following morning, I awoke to a message from my employer saying something along the lines of “if you are not living with more than 2 other coworkers, we can’t provide you with transportation because of the lock-down restrictions”.
My initial thought was “maybe the Dutchies could work with me picking kiwis”. No, that would have been too easy. Unfortunately, I soon learned that the Dutchman did not have a work visa (and there was little hope of getting one during lock-down) and the Dutchwoman had no intention of working during the lock-down. Hmmm, not great. It didn’t take long for my mind to start spinning.
“How long is lock-down really going to last? A month? Two?”
“What if I can’t find a job after lock-down?”
“What the hell happens when I run out of money because I am stuck in lock-down and I can’t get home?”
Yeah. “Oh shit”.
For the next 30 minutes, I frantically tried to figure out what I was going to do. I called a hostel where I knew a lot of my coworkers were living, but they wouldn’t take me until I had finished my self-isolation (still 6 days left at that point), with no guarantee of a vacancy once I was out.
As soon as I got off the phone, I received a message from one of my coworkers, Leo, asking if I was still looking for a place to live. HALLELUJAH. He told me that there were 7 of them so far, but that they were looking for one more person. Initially, I was not thrilled at the prospect of living with so many people in what I imagined was a small house, but the rent was cheap and being able to work was my driving motivation at the time. I quickly accepted the offer. After I finished my self-isolation, I would move in with them and start picking kiwifruit.
Then came the heart wrenching task of letting the Dutch know I could no longer live with them. Through that 30 minutes of panic, I had not kept them updated of my predicament. After telling them everything and why I had to find a new place to live, emotions understandably started flying. Neither of them could afford the Airbnb without a third person and they did not know if the host would let them cancel (or if they would get their deposit back). I felt nauseous. I had completely screwed them over at the final hour before lock-down.
Now they had to attempt to cancel the Airbnb and find a new one. Luckily, they were able to find a place to stay by that evening, putting an end to our collective stress. Although there was a steep cancellation fee for the previous Airbnb, they did get most of the money back. I was happy to pay most of the fee since I directly put them in that situation. They were very forgiving once the dust had settled, which I was thankful for. I hope to never have to make a decision like that again, but if I have to, I have a better idea of how to navigate a conflict like that.
In hindsight, I should have kept the Dutchies more informed of my situation before hunting for a new place to live instead of pulling the rug out from under them. Asking them to see if they could find a new place before cancelling the original Airbnb would have been the best strategy – and least stressful. It was human moment for me and I definitely learned from it. I regret how I handled that situation, but I feel I did everything within reason to rectify it.
Nevertheless, I think I would have made the same decision to switch accommodations. As you will come to learn, I got EXTREMELY lucky with my living situation for lock-down, especially considering all the events that have transpired.
After my self-isolation, I made my way to my new home with Leo and friends. The next chapter in my New Zealand travels begins.
We have all been through a lot these last few months. And so I leave you with this Maori phrase which means "stay strong":
Kia Kaha.
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