it’s the little things
Tuesday, December 29th, 2009Auckland, New Zealand
The distinctive NZ birdcalls wake us, loud and full and warbly.
The morning air is nippy, but it will be nice and warm by midday.
We turn on the tap and know that water is potable.
Driving to the supermarket Mboy7 notices, “New Zealand roads are designed for cars to park on the side.” He’s right, they *are* wide.
We drive through a part of town that could best be described as “entry level first-home dwellings”. Through our old eyes, the pokey sections had seemed a bit shabby. Now we see the grass surrounding the houses, the houses that are all painted, the trees, the upright fences made with fence palings, the space between buildings, the absence of apartments stacked side by side, the wide footpaths with grass verge. We notice that none of the buildings have tiles missing or bricks crumbling away. They are complete. That said, they are also flimsy – houses made in New Zealand are not going to be standing in a couple of hundred years.
We arrive at the supermarket after only quarter of an hour in the van and ERgirl3 states in surprise, “THAT was quick!” She’s become accustomed to hopping in a vehicle and not getting out for a few hours!
There are Polynesian faces around.
Over the PA system, that kiwi accent announces a special on vegetaboows. I spent my childhood being taught to pronounce the “l” in milk, to not say “moowk” like all my friends did….to say “children” and not “choowdren”….and quite frankly, old habits die hard. To this day, that particular kiwi-ism grates!
Money comes from the bank through a plastic card – no paper notes exchange hands, no coins rattle, we don’t have to work out if we were given the correct change.
Going home again someone remarks how green everything is. So green.
We receive mail – a card from this couple in France – we might be home, but we still have the challenge of foreign language to contend with! Grandpa gets his postcard from Romania in the same mail; he’s got one more coming.
We unpack our backpacks, wipe them down, start washing all our clothes (fortunately there are not too many!), and simultaneously begin to move house. All our things were stored in the attic and at Grandpa’s…..we need to bring them out of hibernation. We had been ruthless when packing up, giving away boxloads of gear. But we find as we unpack that we still have too much *stuff* – we become even more ruthless.
We have neighbours to hug. How fortunate we are to have friends as neighbours.
We move boxes.
Four sets of bunks arrive. In the past our children have slept on bunks picked up off the side of the road from an inorganic collection or secondhand squeaky ones. We sold them all before going away and a month ago ordered some from a Kiwi bloke, who makes furniture for a living. Enjoying supporting local business, we were extra pleased when we saw how amazingly sturdy and well-made they turned out to be.
We line up our journals on a shelf – they take almost a complete shelf!
We are thankful for good health, remembering that a year ago Kgirl10 was collapsing in the market in Cambodia, unable to see anything, white as a proverbial sheet.
We move boxes.
We arrange the kitchen differently to how it always used to be.
Asthma starts again (sigh – what is it about Auckland?)
We move boxes.
Friends drop in, bearing homegrown silverbeet and radishes. YUMMO!
We move boxes.
Towards the end of dinnertime I am overcome with the inability to remain upright any longer. I lie down on the couch for a moment and sleep for much longer, missing a phone call from my out-of-town parents.
We tuck the kids up into their sleeping bag liners in their new beds (maybe we’ll find the linen box tomorrow).
We move a few more boxes, and call it a day ourselves.
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rayres