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Writer's pictureElla Heydenfeldt

The Chronicles of Turning 20 on a New Zealand Sheep Farm

Updated: Nov 25


Birthday kiss from Oat, the lamb


The day I turned 20 I tramped through grassy fields in search for dead baby sheep… never would I have foreseen such a birthday. Even six months prior to that, I had no idea my life would lead me down such a path. But there I was.

Turning 20.


 

When I opened my eyes on my 20th birthday, I peered up at the yellow canvas, a REI CO OP logo stamped outside of it, and rays of sunlight filtering through.

I had spent the last five weeks inside my tent, waking up to this view each morning, utterly horizontal in my thick, navy blue sleeping bag. The only thing inside my tent, other than me, was my handsome backpacking pack, which had served as my closet, pantry, and containment unit for this extensive trip.


In typical college student fashion, I decided to study abroad. However, I took an unconventional route of doing this a year early, and on top of that, going to New Zealand to do a field studies course. This included visiting a sheep farm in Wanaka, the South Island of New Zealand.


After maneuvering out of my tent, I looked out onto the azure waters of Lake Wanaka from the grassy hill my quaint home temporarily sat on. Alongside my bright yellow triangular home were fifteen others of differing vibrant colors, making up our little tent town.


Ducking behind my abode, I got ready for the day– throwing on my trusty Hoka SpeedGoats paired with cargo pants, boiling water for coffee in my handy-dandy jet boil, and downing granola bars alongside my comrades (those college students also on this program). We were then split into groups to go do "chores" on the farm and learn about the invasive species. I was assigned to be the assistant of an Australian man working on the farm; our task? Identify the dead baby sheep that had not survived infancy.

Happy Birthday to me! Or should I say- Happy Death Day!


For that’s what it felt like, a day surrounded by primarily strangers, tasked with finding dead animals.


I hopped in the ATV, prayed that I could find a silver lining, and went off with the Aussie and his cattle dog to the fields across from our campsite, filled with fluffy white creatures.

Soon, I was walking through the vibrant, long grasses in my depressing search for decaying lambs. The air smelled earthy, the birds chattering, the sun shining high in the blue sky. On the bright side, it was a beautiful day.


However, I could not believe that this was how I was spending my birthday. On top of that, I hadn’t told many people about it and was attempting not to make a big deal about it. I was trying to be humble and not come off as a self-centered person who wanted their birthday to be all about them.


However, this classic approach to birthdays typically backfires. Once that celebratory day rolls around and nothing happens, you begin to feel a deep sadness. Suddenly, tears filled my eyes as I continued my search. My mind began to spiral into the significance of this day. November 8th, 2023, the day I turned 20.


 

Now, turning 20 itself is a peculiar phenomenon. Society proclaims you're an adult at 18, but it's true gravity hits when you're crossing into the "twenties" territory. Suddenly, you're not adorned with the teenage tag anymore. You're in a brand new decade of growth, a phase that supposedly shapes the following five (plus) decades of your life. Will you get hitched, pop out a tiny human, and erect a white picket fence? Or perhaps you'll jet off to Bali to become a yoga guru or dive into the New York hustle with a nine-to-five job. Or, in my case— maybe move to a New Zealand ranch and be the new hired hand. The possibilities are endless. But this is a very future-focused line of thought.


On this actual day, my mind wasn't dwelling on the future. Instead, it was engaged in a retrospective dance. I was wrapping my head around the fact that a past chapter had reached its conclusion.


Two decades had passed since I made my grand entrance into the world. That notion was quite a shock to me. Two decades of growing up, twenty years worth of memories, ups and downs. But there I was at this milestone, celebrating this anniversary without any of the people who had been in that original hospital room.


Not only were my parents not here with me, but for the first time in my life, my twin sister was not either. I did not come into this world alone. However, my future is most likely filled with more important moments celebrated without the people entrenched deep in my past. 


My parents were, instead, visiting my twin at her university. Meanwhile, I, the headstrong sister, was with fifteen strangers I'd met a mere five weeks prior, marching through a field in New Zealand.


There was a strange beauty and a touch of melancholy in that fact. For the past twenty years, my family remained at the forefront of my life. They were the people who raised me and took care of me, after all. But as I stepped into my twenties, there was this universal rite of passage: becoming the sole umpire of yourself. You are now the decision-maker, the grocery shopper, the alarm setter—congrats, you're on your own, kid. I would say I started this adjustment, alongside many others in the same boat, by going to University, but you are typically not at 100% self-sustainment.


Dining halls, greek life, and advisors give you a bit of a safety net when you first fly the coop. But soon, you'll face the day when it's just you, yourself, and... well, you. It's scary, undoubtedly, but it's a crucial step toward personal growth.


Word on the street is that your twenties are a bit of a shit show.


But I am so excited for the experiences to be had in this realm of chaos.


And spoiler alert— I did find quite a few deceased sheep that day. However, that night was made infinitely better…


Circling around the campfire adjacent to our tent town, trading stories and jokes, I sat back on my elbows happily, enjoying the company of my friends. Eventually, a couple of people disappeared, claiming that they had to grab something, and returned with a cake and bottles of champagne, singing Happy Birthday. 


My melancholy faded to the background, and I happily accepted their sweet treats and passed around the bottle, sharing the bubbles with my new favorite people. We all talked about life late into the night and danced around the fire. Soon, it was off to “bed” in our tents, excited for the next day. 


 

So, going into my 20s on a sheep farm in New Zealand surrounded by new friends might have been the best way to do it after all. Perhaps it holds a promise that the future is saturated with beautiful surprises that all I can do is brace myself for.

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