New Zealand reflections

It was a deliberate choice to catch the train. It’s called the Overlander. There are no trains here that travel underground or above for that matter - so the name seems redundant. It was an arduous 13 hour journey across hundreds of bridges, a dozen or more aqueducts or viaducts (whatever) many of which were nearly 100 years old. O my... And a lot of tourism chatter along the route in which the very nice lady explained why the local little towns were dying off. Urbanisation was never mentioned, but I guess the development of agricultural monopolies were part of the story.The train chugged to Palmerston North and eventually stopped for lunch at National Park. The recently active volcano (Ruapehu) was hidden in white cloud, as was the lahar. We knew we were close to the thing of course - so cold! The ski slopes have been open again just this week.
Train travellers are interesting reflections of local and international society. The very nice Russian family in front of us - Stefan was the teenager - a blond skinny teen attached to an I-pod and cell phone - and the parents relied on him to do the translating. Faceless Italians behind us chatted away (a few rows behind) while the single Asian man next to our son slept throughout the journey - never uttering a word. All the other Kiwis seemed experts on a number of things along the route.
The good news about the train is that leg room really was room - compared to the quick flight back a few days later.Auckland gets bad press here in Wellington. The Jafa thing abounds. The people themselves were pleasant and typical of big cities. Busy - enjoying the retail therapy - or driving at a Jo'burgian pace. The best thing - the weather! Rain, hail and wind we had, but we were never cold.
Our tour guide manage to get us to various places - Mnt Victoria, One tree hill and Mount Eden. I think. We crossed harbours - climbed hills - studied volcanoes and craters. We shopped - some of us went to movies - and we enjoyed a real sense of distance from work and cold wet Wellington-ian winds... We walked along pleasant coastal strips, and enjoyed coffee and goodies in ordinary friendly places.
More delays on the way back. The Queensland and Northern Territories Air Services planes were late. Three lots of waiters (people waiting for a plane - or are they waitees?) waited in a crammed area. One lot was moved to another departure gate. Few people moved on the first announcement. A large tour group remained stuck to their seats until their leader issued a single command in the correct language and to a man they rose to their feet and left as a single body.
Reminds me of another story of a group of men rising as a group at a funeral - when a new undertaker managed to drop the coffin as it came into the church. Email me for all the rest of the gory details!! ....
What are these kiwi people? On the train a lady from the Coromandel assured us that people up there didn't really work. Self-declared beach bum was she. Others chattered away about the old days - and scampered along to the dining car thing when the evening meals were offered at half price. Food wars... Passive-aggressive ladies (women...) made it quite clear that you should be in the correct queue or that in fact the food you were holding was actually theirs.
Research indicates that domestic violence here increases markedly when major rugby games are lost - whether the All Blacks or provincial games. The national religion requires clear successes - notches on the old gun barrels, scalps etc. Not converts but victories. These kiwis avoid smacking children, nuclear weapons, and have dismantled their air force and most of their navy. But give them a rugby ball and its war.
Well the wind tonight is about 120kph. Hopefully the roof is strong. Are we strong? Any immigrant population is made up of tough people. Strength which enables you to realise that you will never be one of them - in our case a kiwi. We will always be Africans. You need strength to laugh at yourself - and to respect others who are different.
Ah well - the Overlander bought a group of people together with a common destiny. We all went in the same direction - but with may destinations. We got on a train - we got off again a little richer, quite tired, but having seen something of this nation and met more of her peoples.This was not Tangiwai. The volcano did erupt - there was a lahar. But we made it to our destination. We should always be grateful, I think, for safe arrivals. It’s the safe living together that remains the real challenge.