T3h H4Xx0r--Using Library internet terminals to blog.

Hello! Well, my last blog post was made from a little internet cafe in downtown Dunedin. Since then, I've found out that the Dunedin Public Library has free internet for browsing, with a $6/hour charge for accessing email, or your favourite social-networking site. Just for fun, I decided that I'd try logging into my blog account--and it worked! So now I can spend as long as I want (until the library closes at 8pm, that is) updating my blog.

Two days ago I gave busking a whirl, in a neat corridor between two of the main shopping streets here. I asked a cafe which was nearby if it'd be alright, and they were fine with it. So, without any more excuses to put it off, I got myself set up. I had my bike with me, leaning against the wall just to my right, fully loaded with all of my gear (I thought that maybe people would be more inclined to give money to a traveller). I set my helmet out (with a towel in it to stop any coins from dropping through the ventilation channels), and arranged an amount of seed-money to prompt people to donate by showing them that "others" (myself, but they don't necessarily know that) had felt I was a cause worth donating to.
I was using my Tin Whistle, and playing various traditional Irish and Scottish songs--most of which I learned at Friends School of Minnesota, Russell will be happy to know. I got off to a bit of a shaky start, which probably landed me a bit of pity money. After I got into a song it would be alright, and I'd enjoy playing it. In fact it was really weird, because I remember thinking at one point: "I have NO IDEA how the rest of this song goes..." but then somehow (must be that muscle memory people talk about) I just kept on playing, and as soon as I played it I remembered that that was how the song went. Which doesn't make any sense, except possibly to those of you who perform (music or otherwise), or do some other sort of tricky physical manipulation on a routine basis. However, once the song had finished, I'd realise in a slight panic that I needed to think of what I would play next--complicated by my not being able to remember which songs I had most recently played, and which songs were due for a replaying.
Here are the songs I was playing:
1. The Slide
2. Farran Boat Song
3. Swallowtail Jig
4. The Foggy Dew
5. Ship in Full Sail (one of my favourites)
6. Skye Boat Song
7. The Britches Full of Stitches (I think that's the name? 32132313-3213235 for FSM kids)
8. Planxty Irwin

More or less in that order; The only thing I really kept conistent was trying to go from a fast song to a slow song. I am working on (slowly) learning "Wayfarin' Stranger," "Mysterious Number One," "The Temperance Reel," (an Irish song, believe it or not!) and a couple of other songs which I liked the names of. In addition to this, I'm trying to remember "Jug of Brown Ale," "The Irish Washerwoman," and a number of others which I've forgotten.
Now, I'm not exactly sure how much money I made, as I unfortunately forgot to count how much money I started it off with. However, from my estimates, I probably made something to the tune of (sorry) $7-$8 for an hours worth of work. Enough for dinner, but not instant riches. I have a bank account which has (hard-earned cherry-packin') money in it, so thankfully I'm not completely dependent on busking as a source of income.
At one point, this big Maori guy with lots of tatoos (no Moko, just tats), a guitar slung over one shoulder (and a 6-pack of Speights over the other), and very dark sunglasses on came up to me and we had a bit of a chat. I think he said his name was Tony. He was a nice guy, and was mostly just wondering where I was from, and where I was going (in a non-creepy way). He was a busker, too, and he'd been doing it for a while. After a couple of minutes he said: "Well, enjoy your time in Aotearoa, boy," and made his way down the road. Later, I went past him while he was playing, and stopped to have a bit of a listen. He was pretty good, and had a fair amount of money (how much of it was spectators', I'm not sure). I gave him fifty cents (I'm stingy, alright), and wished him luck.
The next afternoon I was walking around in downtown when I went past the little corrior I had busked at, and saw aother guy busking there. He had a cookie-tin of some sort in front of him, and was standing there, clapping his hands. And--as far as I could tell--there weren't any particularly unique qualities associated with his clapping. Just clapping. And he was making a LOT of money!
Yesterday I went to the supermarket to get some stuff or lunch, and there was a guy wearing clothes fashionable 150 years ago who was completely covered, head to foot, with white paint. He was a living statue, and was standing absolutely stock-still. But this wasn't any ordinary living statue, for he had a duck (also completely white)! However, I don't believe the duck was real. The guys who had to fix the supermarket's sliding door were a little puzzled by this... thing, which was stationed directly on the other side of the door from them. Now HE was making real money. And every time someone put a dollar or two down, he'd startle them out of their wits by moving jerkily, robotically, to tip his hat at them. If you're ever thinking about getting into busking, heavily consider being one of these living statues--no witty repartee needed, and you get paid for doing nothing. However, I'm sure it's not nearly as easy as it looks (in fact, I'd probably be in agony after a quarter of an hour), maintaining the same position constantly.
The thing that really puzzled me was figuring out just how he periodically collected the money people threw onto a blanket at his feet, next to the duck.

Read on for an absolutely RIVETING account of my thought-processes while buying a rain-coat:

The other thing that I've done is buy a decent raincoat. My old one was big and yellow, and not particularly good, to say the least. My main gripes with it stemmed from the facts that it:
a. Made you sweat so much that you got soaked in your own sweat,

b. Had a variety of holes in it, along with big patches which had lost their repellant coating,

c. Was growing at least 7 varieties of mold on the inside.

So, yesterday I bought one from Kathmandu during a big clearance sale. Now, Kathmandu is one of those outdoors stores where you pay a lot for the brand-name, and where they often sell many fairly/completely useless novelty products mixed in with the quality items. So I spent a while looking at raincoats there, and in other stores. I found one which usually retailed for NZ$499, but was on sale at NZ$225. I was a bit suspicious, because that seems like it would be a huge drop in cost for a product which works, leading me to believe that it, conversely, didn't work. It was made with this Gore-Tex material called PacLite, and is a very light jacket. I did some research on the internet, and found out that the material has gotten very good reviews, the main negative comment being the usually very-high price. So, the long and the short of it is that now I have a very cool raincoat which rolls up to fit in a nifty little stuff-sac they conveniently included (about the size of a water bottle). And it's RAINING! I've never been quite so happy to see rain. I plan to start heading south fairly soon (tomorrow, maybe?), towards the Catlins, Invercargill, and Stewart Island.
You see, I'm making a whole bunch of blog entries now so that I have an excuse for a lack of such prolific publishing later.
-Ben