One year, one month in....

The second year is definitely harder than the first.

Our first year as immigrants – 2009 – was a blast. We were like tourists, out every weekend climbing dunes at Bethell’s Beach, exploring tunnels at Devonport or hot-footing it over searing black sand at Piha. We were welcomed by people we met, and it was so easy.

“We arrived here a few months ago,” we’d smile. “We’re loving it,” we’d beam. And we’d be invited in.

Now it’s different, but it’s hard to pinpoint why. The magic of all those first months is over. We know now what to expect. We feel more responsible for our move. It has finally sunk in, and we are looking about and admitting: this is our new home now. Do we like what we chose? (The answer is ‘yes’, by the way.)

But it’s complicated.

For one, I feel a new level of homesickness. It would be so much easier if everyone back in SA said, “This isn’t working. Let’s all leave.” Then we wouldn’t wonder what we’re doing here, thousands of kilometres from SA. What makes it more confusing is that all our friends and family have stayed in South Africa and life has continued as normal for them. We wonder: why was it not OK for us, when clearly, they’re still fine there? Did we over-react? Are we too sensitive? Should we, gulp, go back? The thought fills me with dread, but the questions don’t stop.

Our One Year Milestone

“I love this place. I love this city.” This is the silent mantra that played in my head this year each time we visited a new part of Auckland. Or each time we drove home from school pick-ups and saw the serene turquoise of the harbour mouth, the bush-covered ranges, the startling red of Pohutakawa flowers against the deep blue sky.

For the nature lover, NZ is pure paradise. For the biker, the camper, the hitch-hiker, the adventurer, the loner, the tramper, the mountain climber, the river rafter, the ocean kayaker, opportunities abound in a mostly unspoilt, always un-crowded setting.

We never did the boerewors, beer and braaivleis thing back in SA, so we don’t miss any part of SA culture. We fit better here with the European immigrants than we did back in SA. On every level, in every way, coming here has given us the life we always wanted: open, carefree, lots of interesting people in an interesting community, loads of friends for my kids who like nature, clambering up trees and scouring beaches for treasures. My little girl skypes her old friends back home and they stare blankly at her precious kauri gum collection, her worm farm, her crystal and shell collection from the last year. They don’t get it because their lives are restricted to back gardens and shopping malls. That crazy, dirty, outdoorsy kind of childhood is dying out in the SA city suburbs.

So what made the first year so much easier than expected? We could have settled for one of the few mouldy rentals we found, but we took the massive risk of buying a house instead – after only three weeks in a country we had never seen before. We could have chosen a built-up suburb with massively expensive shacks, but we opted for a small lifestyle block in a community that suits us (Noordhoek is the closest equivalent that comes to mind). We wrote down what we wanted a year before we arrived, and we fought for it.