Moving to New Zealand has got to be one of the craziest things we ever did. Emigration was never really our intention or desire. I'm not sure how it really started. So many people plan this for years - researching options and possibilities, and counting the cost in every possible way. I used to joke about it - not in a disparaging way. People from our home country have all kinds of reasons for moving on. Many suffered various forms of trauma. Some ran from South Africa anticipating the inevitable changes that were needed and right as democracy eventually arrived. I joked about the idea of New Zealand because I was a shepherd - a pastor, and would quip that there were too many sheep on these islands. Then it all happened and we were on our way. Looking back it all seems surreal now.
We were enticed by family in one sense. They seemed to be drifting over towards this part of the world for their own reasons. Some have come here and gone back. They didn't get the permanent residence required. Others have thrived and been drawn into the kiwi way – the life of peace and the safe suburban way.
The kiwi way. I’m still not sure what that really is. It is inspired by All Black success – and when the national team fails people shudder and mention quietly that domestic violence increases after an All Black rugby loss. It has a peculiar passive-aggressive flavour. A nation which stands for egalitarianism and fair play, with great consumer rights and a pleasant socialist flavour that keeps one paid when unemployment persists (with some requirements attached of course like actually looking for work and developing skills) – remains a little tentative about its raison d'être. It is a dominion – with a Governor General, and the Queen at the helm, and few blatant republicans. And curiously we were able to vote in a new government not long ago – a National government. Imagine us voting NP!
In March we will celebrate four years on these islands. We haven’t captured the essence of the kiwi way. It is a slippery customer. Something reserved like the English – with an added colonial zest and DIY ingenuity. I grasp something of the young peoples’ essence, working with them. They’re much like the South African kids I worked with in Port Shepstone – energetic, intelligent, and great fun. They have such a great passion for the future, and laugh a lot in the present about how silly adults can be.
The fault lines below Wellington were never spoken of when we planned this move in 2005. Like the kiwi way they are invisible and a bit unpredictable. In fact there was a sign on one of the main roads indicating that the fault line was right there – until last year. It seems they took the sign down because they aren’t sure where the fault is any more.
The jolting of earthquakes is terrifying. The last one that really shocked us was just 25km south of Wellington. It sounded like a freight train hitting the house at 2 in the morning. This last week earthquakes have caused devastation across a wide range or communities with untold death and destruction. Our Samoan neighbours are mourning as are New Zealand families whose dear ones went away on holiday and have to be brought back for burial.
The picture of our Prime Minister standing in mourning with local folk in Samoa is a deeply warm one and reveals another facet of this intriguing people. There is, despite the frozen English legacy, a warmth and compassion and a genuine kindness and generosity when it comes to these kinds of disasters. There are wonderful New Zealanders who give time and money to make a difference in the lives of others. My hope is that the boys I work with will take up the challenge to do a different OE year – on another continent and for different reasons from the usual fun and games – to continue the amazing work of peacemaking and kindness that is a rich manifestation of the kiwi way.
I am happy to celebrate the craziness of our move to these wobbly islands. The world is rich and diverse, and despite the trauma of our journey over these nearly four years, I have been greatly enriched along the way.
As a final coment - like the fault lines, all the nations across the planet have deeper aspects of their history and ethos. One can never really know the whole story, and one can all too easily make assumptions on the basis of what you see. Tomorrow we will continue to walk around this capital city, trusting that things will not fall down about us. You just never know, of course.
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