100 Grams Of Everything

The Hinton estate, at first glance looked nothing like a vineyard that I imagined as this place was surrounded by formations of fruit trees. I took a deep breath as I took my first step out from the car, and there I stood facing the small office. No wind, no breeze, not even a melody from the birds, gave me the impression of a deserted orchard. The sound of an engine turned my attention towards a fast approaching figure of a man on a dirt bike. It was, The Boss. Long story short, I found myself a job for the first of summer. A city boy such as I, would have never imagined the amount of effort that one puts in to nurture a fruit until the day it is served.

The sun once again embraces the bright less sky. In the accommodation, a place usually silent and peaceful through the night, only to be interrupted by occasional snoring awaited for the moment. Five in the morning, the symphony of dawn begins as the alarm springs the room with life through one of Vladimir Ashkenazy’s version of Chopin’s masterpiece, Fantasie Impromptu Opus 66. Consciousness came back unto me. I unzipped my sleeping bag only to find myself attacked by a rush of frost cold temperature. Shivers! The common routine proceeds. Firstly, breakfast usually a therapeutic bowl of Korean “Shin-Ramyon” that never fails to warm my lifeless and ever-aging outfit back to its normal state. Immediately after that, I would enter the hall of thrones to complete the cycle of life. Thereafter, I would equip myself with three layers of clothing to battle the frosty mornings, and reduce them later in the day.

Alexandra located in Central Otago, is probably one of the driest places in New Zealand. Currently in the summer months, the prevailing wind is a persistent southerly breeze which sweeps the skies clear of clouds and makes an open path for the sun, under which the forms of objects stand out in sharp outline and their colors show true. The dazzling solar radiation, the afternoon temperature never ceases to fill me with horrific experiences. In addition to an already almost extreme physical torment, comes the curse of allergy from the minute hair from handling the fruits. The peach, a sweet, delicate, and luscious looking fruit when matured was in fact a difficult fruit to handle in the first place. Green and hairy, the fluffs got under my skin caused much irritation as rashes emerged.

The immature fruits were not only the problem, for an even bigger force was beyond expectation. There and then, I was maintaining my composure to thin the overpopulated nectarines, peaches, cherries, and apricots, in the simmering and irritating environment. The only source of comfort came from the brief breezes that come and pass, but it halted. The calm before the storm as people say. In one instance, gusts of southerly winds approaches. The wind was so magnanimous it lifted the galvanized steel ladder off the ground.

To thin every single tree in the orchard before it fruits fully mature was the main objective. Hence, the workers were divided into three teams that were assigned to different sites within the orchard. I have never imagined that I could remove so many fruits in a single day. Speed and accuracy was what The Boss stressed on, thus applying pressure especially on those who are inexperienced. Each person would have taken a row of forty trees or more, all working in synchrony towards the end, a task that would take a few days. Everyone is isolated from one another which were undeniably an anti-social working environment. However, there are times that friends like Samson and Lucy would just sit by to relieve the overwhelming boredom. Samson is a pure golden retriever, but I couldn’t remember what Lucy was, but poor Lucy, her joints suffer from arthritis due to her age. I find it strange to experience the connection between canine and humans. For instance, Samson would bark a reply one tells him something which sometimes makes him more receptive compared to humans. It’s remarkable!

Eight hours of consecutive thinning could drive even the most composed person into a psychotic state. Frustrated, uncomfortable, and annoyed one could just swift through the branches removing almost every fruit in its wake, destroying the fruit spires that could end a trees life permanently. I had similar thought once before until I came across that one day that made me rethink. A particular shape caught my eyes. It was a beautifully weaved nest atop a thick and almost flat branch intersection. The little branches and abundant leaves from above provide the perfect shelter for little nestlings. Inside were five chicks, each half the size of a thumb with punk-rock like feather on its head, big headed with eyes undeveloped, helpless, and vulnerable. In short, they were little fur balls clustered together to keep warm. Therefore, an act of ignorance could very well put the life of these helpless chicks to an end by accident as mishandling the tree threatens the nest and the life within it. That was the reason why, I worked with perseverance, always looking forward to meet more nestlings and I did, but it was a bunch of un-hatched eggs. Unfortunately, the fate of these chicks has been decided for they will die from the chemical sprays for the fruit if not the nets that will surround the trees during the picking season that would cut off food access from its parent.

Throughout the first half of summer, I sheltered in a humble wooden cottage or rather a longhouse on stilts. In the living room rests a superannuated television. Atop it was another mini television which provided the weather forecast and occasional media entertainment. On the right from the entrance lies a traditional wood fired heater. Every evening, Terence and Wayne would head out to accumulate dry wood to feed the furnace for sundown. Terence of Hong Kong was one of my roommates, a tanned, un stout fellow with long permed semi dyed hair held up usually by a black bandana, humble, easy-going, and has acute sense of humor every once in a while, certainly a fan of the NBA. Wayne on the other hand, was a tanned independent lady in her twenties with straight long hair and of the same culture as my own, a Malaysian, with down to earth honesty, self proclaimed shyness, and never ceases to amaze me with unprecedented statements of her own, truly a person of white virtues.

Across the living room was the kitchen which consists of two fridges and an ornamental freezer that shows signs of permanent disability. Next to the stainless steel kitchen counter were two well used oven-function-removed stoves. Every week will there be a duty roster to ensure cleanliness at a habitable state. Every once in a while, there will be ice cream treats offered by Ben and Vivian. Ben and Vivian, both of Taiwanese descent, were a conservative yet loving couple, and the shepherd to all in the accommodation. Ben was a young man who was young at heart and cheerful, caring and at times disciplinary towards those who were in his presence. Vivian was his other half, a quiet, feather-like gentle and conservative young lady, who speaks only if necessary.

Between the living and kitchen area was a narrow hallway which lead to the other end of the long house, bypassing four rooms on either side along the way. First room on the right belonged to three girls from South Korea whose names were Aimee, Sue, and Dana. Sue and Dana spoke little English and would most of the time be in their room, and I know not the mysteries that linger in there. Sue was a promising girl, a girl who kept silence golden, aspires to become a politician in the future, and a person who has many internal conversations. Dana, though speak little English managed to spice up the atmosphere every once in a while offering friendly, yet sometimes mean jokes on others who may sometimes misunderstand due to cultural differences. Nonetheless, she was a person who was still in search of her true passion in life. First room on the left belonged to Ben and Vivian.

Aimee or Hyun Su on the other hand was distinct from the other two; she had a better command in English. As English was assumed to be 1% of accumulated conversation in that accommodation before I arrived, that could just be the reason why her English went blunt. Hyun Su was in her early twenties, with healthy, shiny hair that revealed its true colours in places where light prevailed; incandescent brown eyes, petit, bubbly character, and never failed to give a smile that would bring colour to the day. Pink was her primary colour, something that I wasn’t fond of at all, but she gave me a really funny first impression initially, certainly an interesting person.

Further towards the second row were the rooms of Mei Ling, Ei Ling, Bey Meng, and a lady whom I simply called Tan. Mei Ling was also a girl from Taiwan, has an assortment of traits from cool to cute. On the day I left, she wrote on my shirt that she treated me as thought I was her little brother, which made me deeply moved. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the courage to tell her the threats of smoking. Ei Ling, Bey Meng, and Tan were Malaysians, each with their own view to life. Sadly, I wasn’t able to understand them better. Bey Meng too spoke little English, but she taught me how prepare some pretty interesting dishes. Tan was like an elder sister, worked in Singapore before she arrived in New Zealand, ever encouraging, and always reminded me to have courage and express myself to the fullest. She was probably one of the calmer people that I would meet in life. Ei Ling was an outgoing, generous, and had a neutral stand when it comes to disputes and gossips.
There was also Fiona, Kiki, and Daria who stayed in the same room at the very end, also a group of Taiwanese. One may take a look at them once, and be fooled by their young looks, but they were in fact past mid-twenties. Fiona, probably the only person whom I never got to know, was a mysterious lady. Nobody knew what really went on in her mind, but I would sometimes observe her as she enjoy her meal of considerable portion, followed by her presumed long slumbers. Kiki, the most experienced of ladies in the accommodation, spoke mandarin regularly, and I haven’t an idea what she was talking about at times, but speech is but a medium of communication, for she uses a communicating method which I think, most Asians would understand. It was through the art of cooking of course.

Kiki, ever busy on weekdays, would spend her time during the weekend preparing crafty dishes like the Chinese dumpling. Instinctively, she measured the flour, with water added to it that acted as a mortar to bind the two ingredients together. Down to the finest of details, everything was done by hand where she would prepare disk shaped dough rappers with factory-machine-like consistency, and then used it to wrap the filling which of course, she prepared earlier. These little dumplings, folded and wrapped with the minutest of finger gestures, filling in the epicenter of the disk with the pastry walls closing in and gently embracing it, then arranged in a regime-like formation atop the stainless steel kitchen counter, waiting to complete the ritual, a plunge in a sacrificial pit of boiling water, only to reemerge and reunited with the broth that was meant to be. Yin and Yang reunited; the once dry dumplings became a reincarnation of heavenly flavors.

Daria had two jobs, a fruit picker at dawn, and a nanny of the Hinton’s heirs by noon. She was a lady of little words, serious, attracted to European culture, and seemed to be focused on her lifetime achievements. She was the only person in the accommodation who owned a mountain bicycle. The four key combinations to unlock her bike were zero, two, one, zero, if I remembered correctly. Most evenings, she would rather have pasta for dinner to Asian dishes. She would talk to Ben and Vivian in mandarin, as usual, I wouldn’t understand a single word their saying; sometimes.

Finally on the opposite side, was a room that belonged to Terence, Denis, David and I. Denis Peng from Taiwan was an artist. He was a musician of high qualification, and his choice of musical instrument was somewhat rare, the Pipa, a four-stringed Chinese instrument with a wooden frame that unleashed wonders when plucked. One Sunday evening, David, Wayne, Denis and I, had a short expedition up the hilltop behind the Hinton’s vineyard. The hills were rocky and rabbit hole filled. At the top was a suitable spot for Denis to demonstrate his skills. Behind a huge rock we settled, Denis unboxed his instrument and started with an amazing rehearsal succeeded by a never seen before, one of a kind pipa performance that resonates to the winds.

David Bigelow from Dunedin was the senior of the house, and the only Caucasian in the accommodation. It was the first weekend when I arrived, where everyone was away to do some grocery shopping and I was alone at home because of transportation incapacities. Then, David walked in only to find one Asian boy sitting at one corner of the living room, eyes focused on the laptop screen. I told him that I too was a green hat, then ushered him to the room. There, he chose the bed that was just above of Terence. David was a man who loved his job, but revenue depletion in a hotel that he worked for has resulted to an ultimatum that puts his passion to a temporary discontinuity. Nonetheless, he left the orchard a day earlier than I when he found a job back in Dunedin. He sat down with me during meals or tea and talked about world history and his Canadian past which I found it really interesting when he talked about the Golden Horde Empire.

All was in accordance until one morning, until the Big Boss announced that our services were no longer needed. At that time, we were 10 days ahead of schedule. Being jobless for 10 days meant the loss of NZD880 to my personal treasury, bitter news indeed and bitter it may be, for there was still a tinge of happiness as I head to Christchurch for a moment of reflection and reunion with a couple of friends from Home. Not The Alpha or The Omega, I reckon, but a Bittersweet Chocolate which will be shared by two. I am not a writer, and I describe only the things that lie before my eyes, and this...pretty much summarizes most events that has past while I was there at the estate.

A life changing experience indeed. =)