Wanganui=1, Jeff=0

Alright I guess it's time to give the story of my first night in Wanganui. Enough time has passed to allow me to recover both physically and mentally/emotionally, but I've probably already blown it way out of proportion, so calm down.

I arrived in Wanganui by bus at about 7:30pm. I checked into the hostel, set my stuff down, then set off for my standard routine of a self-guided walking tour of the town. I headed toward the city center, about a 5 minute walk from the hostel, and got some quick takeaway dinner on the way. The main focus of the city is a street called Victoria Avenue where most of the shops, cafes, and whatever else you need would be. After eating I started strolling along the avenue just getting a sense of the layout of the town, though I learned the next day that the direction I turned onto the avenue, though not necessarily a mistake, was the opposite of the more active and worthwhile part of the road. I figured since I'd be a receptionist at a backpackers it would be worthwhile to know where everything was in the city since I'd inevitably have to answer location questions for the travelers. After I reached a supermarket I decided I'd seen enough for one night, so I collected a few things to get me through the next few days, and began heading home. Naturally, to further my exploration of the town, I walked a different way back than the way I had come, taking me down some residential roads. After wandering for about 10 minutes loosely in the direction of my hostel, I became aware of a few male voices behind me. The last thing I remember was stepping off the sidewalk into the road, as a means of letting them pass by me as they were clearly walking faster than I was, and I could tell by the sounds of their voices that they followed this movement.

The next memory I have, though to think back on it now it seems as much like remembering a dream than an actual event, is of me laying on the asphalt moaning and hearing a few girls' voices standing over me.

The next memory after that is laying in a hospital bed, my new boss sitting in a chair off to one side, and somebody (a police officer) taking pictures of me. I had been attacked and mugged on my way home from the supermarket.

I don't remember much of that night in the hospital except that I had some xrays taken and that there was blood on my clothes, pillow, and blanket, and my memory started to serve me better as I was led to another room to change clothes and spend the night. The next morning I had a few more doctor visits, including a CT scan, and was joined again by my new boss at the hostel. Though I have no idea how anyone would have known that I worked for him, and though I have no recollection of doing so, I guess I must have mentioned the name of the lodge while being taken to the hospital the previous night because I couldn't figure out how Rory (my boss) even knew I was there. He talked to me through the morning to comfort me which was a welcome relief from the confused loneliness of sitting in the bed alone morning.

After a quick shower I was debriefed by a police officer to get every detail possible out of the case. She promised me that they had several leads, something I took with optimism though still highly doubted to be true. I knew there was basically no hope since at no point did I ever actually see the attackers.

Back to that shower for a second, it's a really weird feeling to hold your head under a shower and see red-tinged water fall to the ground. I had a wound on my head that was still bleeding slightly the next morning, not to mention all the dried blood that had accumulated there since the previous night.

My best guess is that I was hit at least twice. I had the wound on my head, another on my forehead over my right eye, another on the bridge of my nose, a black left eye, but the most significant injury was what was revelead during the CT scan. All night my nose had felt clogged and was apparently swollen and very tender. In fact my teeth and gums on the left side of my mouth are still a bit sore today, nearly 2 weeks later. Anyway the CT scan revelead a crack in my maxillary bone. Fortunately the doctor said surgery wasn't required and that with some simple medication it should heal alright. Also I had cuts over pretty much all of my knuckles including a few minor chunks taken out of some knuckles on my left hand. No idea how that happened, though I like to entertain the possibility suggested to me by someone at the hospital that I had fought back, unlikely as that is.

The next few days were bizarre. The local paper interviewed me and I was front page material the next day. The following day I was in the library using free internet (cmon, backpacker budget) and some elderly lady stopped me. She asked if I was that boy from the paper, and though I hadn't seen the article yet I knew what she meant. She repeatedly expressed her sorrow, despite my refusals she insistently offered me $5. I wish she hadn't done it in a public place because I had to really try to hold myself back from crying. When I returned to the hostel the dayshift employee informed me I had receieved several phone calls from other locals offering their condolences. She also handed me a heartfelt letter someone had dropped off which included $20. At that point I had to rush to my room because I couldn't hold back the tears that time.

Over the next few days I had received about a dozen phone calls, $25 in cash, a free breakfast, and about 4 or 5 offers for accomodation or a meal. Other than the breakfast, I have to admit that I didn't actually take up any of the other offers, mostly because I was uncomfortable with the idea, also because I lost the number of one of the families I intended to call back. But at the free breakfast the newspaper reporter and photographer returned for a followup story, which again garnered a few public recognitions, inlcuding by Bill from San Francisco who informed me that I was the 'talk of the lodge owners' who were worried about what this meant for the future of travel through their town. However Rory mentioned more than once that he's had over 100,000 people pass through his lodge and I'm the first one to experience anything like that in town. Never be the first to do anything.

I'd have to say that I was very lucky in several ways. I was lucky they knocked me unconscious from the start so that I didn't have to actually "experience" any of the attack, though from a police standoint that was probably a bad thing. I was lucky the girls found me so quickly and called the police. I'm lucky Rory is such a considerate person. He really helped me through that morning at the hospital. I'm lucky I already had a job and accomodation lined up. Imagine if I had been just some independent traveler passing through town. I would have had no food, money, or place to stay, and that though terrifies me. Though I was able to cancel all my cards immediately and replace my New Zealand bank card, I only had $30 left on it, so the past 2 weeks (I get my first paycheck on Wednesday) have been pretty meager in terms of food since I'm too humble to borrow money. I'm also lucky the people of this town care so much for the troubles of one lonely traveler, though I wish I had known ahead of time that there was mild gang activity in the area...... Also I was surprised and very relieved to find that they attackers took only my wallet, and not my passport which was in the same pocket as my wallet, and they left all the groceries I was carrying at the time.

Anyway I intentionally didn't mention this to anyone (except people passing through the hostel who kept asking why I had so many bruises) because I wanted to make sure it didn't come off as a big deal. My face has returned to its normal appearance, for better or worse, though my hat still has some blood stains on it, and my best guess is that my cheek crack is healing well. I'm pretty sure Corey is the only person who reads this, and possibly his dad apparently (hey Mr. Kubatzky), and I probably won't explicitly bring up the topic anywher else, so if it spreads from here then so it goes. I don't want to intentionally spread it or stifle the spread of it, although I still haven't told my parents because I didn't want them to spend the next few months needlessly worrying.

I came to New Zealand for a life experience, guess I got a bit more than I bargained for.