Change of Circumstance

Up until now I have been on a holiday. My head space was still as if I lived in Canada, and would return in no time.

But recently I have begun to realize how long I will be in New Zealand, and what it means to travel.

My experience is changing from one of a short-term experience to a long-term, settling kind of mindset. I have developed a kind of panic deep inside me, a desperate ache for home. I can sense that, on the other side of this phase, I will probably develop a kind of acceptance of my life here as permanent and, possibly, hopefully,
of my entire life as one no longer belonging to an island in Canada, but capturing the possibility of belonging elsewhere.

At first the differences of New Zealand were novel and lovely, and they still are, but I have developed lately a kind of antipathy toward these differences, as if they have purposely chosen to remind me that I am not at home.

Here are some things that are different.

Light switches
Power outlets
Toilet flushing handles
Store names (i.e., there is no Wal-Mart, Future Shop, The Bay, or Macs. Instead they've got The Warehouse, Dick Smith, Farmer's and The Fix)
Road signs
Left-handed driving
Trees, birds, and landscape (although Scottish Broom is a plague on these hillsides too).
The moon is upside-down
Different stars, and Orion is also upside-down
The sun is in the north
No insulation or central heating in buildings
Everything is generally about twice as expensive
Music and fashion is pretty '90s, so it's either behind or way ahead of its time.
Television shows run several seasons behind, and there are only about ten channels.
Vocabulary and slang, for instance:

Interact/debit: Eftpos
Americano: Long Black
Latte: Flat White
Espresso: Short Black
Thanks: Cheers, or Ta
You're Welcome: It's all right
Awesome: Choice
Cool: Mean
Great: Sweet as
Into it: Keen
Expensive: Dear
Corner store: Dairy
Garbage: Rubbish
Garbage Can: Bin
Sweater: Jersey
Bell pepper: Capsicum
Zuccini: Courgette
Ketchup: Tomato Sauce
Sprite / 7-Up: Lemonade
Apartment: Flat
Friend: Mate
Fast food: Takeaways
Dessert: Pudding
Chips: Crisps
Fries: Chips
Gas: Petrol
Trunk: Boot
Car Hood: Bonnett
Truck: Lorry
Elevator: Lift
Flashlight: Torch
Swimsuit: Togs
Diaper: Nappy
Stroller: Pram
Cabin: Bach (pronounced like a batch of cookies)
Flip-flops: Jandals

It is startling when I hear a North American speaking. Their lack of accent seems so strange to me.

One thing that has surprised me about New Zealand is the poverty. Don't get me wrong: there's no rampant homelessness like we have at home. The poverty is less severe but more widespread. Any street you drive down, you'll see falling-down business signs, flaking paint, busted fences, boarded-up windows, graffiti, and weeds. Everything is incredibly expensive here, and it seems that the general population can never quite catch up. No one seems to have the time or money to maintain their yards or shopfronts. Stairways crumble, paint peels. It is a state we have seen in every town and city in the country so far. It makes me realize how much effort must go into the careful repairs of our sidewalks, gardens, shopfronts, awnings, and houses back home. I have always taken the pretty aspects for granted: tailored gardens, horsechestnut-lined sidewalks and beautifully painted Victorian homes. Free wireless throughout the city. How rich we are.

I suppose though, that the Kiwis are rich in another sense. The countryside is beautiful beyond anything I've seen. And expenses aside, the people are welcoming and open and more like Americans than they would care to admit. They complain about their government, but truly New Zealand has striven to set an example in the world. They were the first country to give women the vote, the first to instate a marine reserve, the first to refuse nuclear armament and mining and offshore drilling. They are maybe a poorer economy but a richer sense of conviction, I think.

And me here two months, speaking from the pulpit.

We have had a change of circumstance, by the way. The car we had bought was stolen, luckily before we had paid for it. So no car, but no skin off us, either. And I have found a job at a bakery-cafe.

Tomorrow I have short-term work, at a camp for disadvantaged youth. I will be working overnight as the female counsellor. On the plus side, it should be fun: I'm going white-water rafting and on a Flying Fox, having free meals and getting paid very, very well. On the other hand, I'm intimidated. I have no illusions. These kids are going to eat me alive.