Letter home: Three months in New Zealand

Life on a pacific island

Well, we may live on the biggest island in the Pacific, but we're still living island style: simple, peaceful, convivial. Days are Alexandrite-blue and drift dreamily from one sublime Autumn week to the next. We find we are doing less adventuring now, and more homey things like arranging pictures on our walls, potty-training Adam (almost there!) and bravely eyeing the tremendous task ahead of turning our land into more of a food garden. (Photo: view from our house)

The beginnings of a food garden

Our first step was to buy two huge bins for composting the "weeds", like ginger, plectranthus, honeysuckle, agapanthus and jasmine. Even though these were plants we would happily nurture in our SA garden, here, because of the climate, they grow too prolifically and strangle the native bush. We remove them, chop them up, and bin them in water for several months before we can use them as compost. The lids have a clamp lock because the contents are supposed to ferment. Occasionally they explode. Everywhere we drive in Waitakere city there are huge open weed bins provided by the council for the public to dump weeds, for those who don't want to risk blowing themselves up at home.

Next we bought a worm farm bin from the council, and 1000 tiger worms. These are our new pets. They can dispose of up to two litres of organic waste per day, and by the time we have 8000 worms, they will turn all our kitchen scraps and vacuum cleaner dust into nutritious compost for our garden.

The biggest hurdle is identifying the different plants on our plot. We have used the Internet and several library books - but we are still not convinced about what is native, what is exotic, what is a weed and what a pest. NZ may not have many bright-flowered native garden plants, but it has hundreds of species of indigenous trees, ferns and shrubs, and we have never seen anything like them. The Waitakere area alone has 542 species of native plant (111 of these are native ferns). The bush is so dense that in the space of a metre you could find four or five small trees all competing for space…and needing a name.

Is this a paw paw? Or a deadly nightshade?

As far as fruit trees go, we are having a bit more luck. We have labelled seven banana plants, two huge loquat trees, a grapefruit tree covered in big green grapefruit, a lemon tree and possibly an orange tree, something that looks like a nut tree (help!) and is this a paw paw? It has about 20 fruit that popped out in the past week.

We have loved tasting new edible plants, and rushed out to buy two feijoa trees (you need two to make fruit) after eating our way through a big bag of them over the weekend. Exquisite. We have about 20 pak choi and beet plants doing very well, and potato plants that have yet to surface.

(Photo below: The "in" thing right now in our household: Feijoas.)

Changes

One of the biggest changes we made when we got here was to only go shopping every ten days for a bulk grocery shop. This has created hours of free time every week, as I no longer "pop to the Howard Centre" for supper stuff every second day. No more driving, no scramble for parking, no queues. The nearest big store is about 30 minutes drive away, depending on the traffic, and Isobella and I make an outing out of it. So far, it is still fun.

Also, we decided before we came here that the children would no longer watch TV in the week. We wanted them to go back to playing the old-fashioned way. So far, it has worked beautifully, and right now they are having the kind of school holiday I always wanted for them: hours and hours and hours of disappearing into the bush, building forts, riding trikes, painting with leaves and bark, swinging in the hammock, even having chilly Autumn swims in the pool.

Today K and I spotted them heading off into the bush, knapsacks on their backs (see photo). What they had packed into their bags, I don't know. I tend to let them explore anywhere, as long as it's not near the road. We share a driveway with two other properties, so they can wander around on about 6000 m2 of jungle before getting into any serious danger.

I did overhear Adam muttering that Belli's plan was "scary", but she managed to convince him to go with her. We found them about 40 minutes later stuck in the bush, and Adam wailing little "help me's".

They have made lots of new friends, and yesterday we had two little girls over to play from Uganda. They were rescued there by two Aids workers I have befriended, who all risked being hacked up by some tribe a few months ago in civil unrest in Uganda. My friend, Colleen, helplessly watched 150 abandoned babies starve to death as families evacuated the villages and left 200 babies behind. They managed to save 50. Colleen's best friend was murdered, and she was warned her family was next. Luckily BA flew her, her husband and two little adopted girls back to the UK, with four suitcases of clothes, hours before her house was attacked. The NGO they had worked for, for almost a decade, didn't really care that they had lost everything in Uganda, and they decided to move to NZ for a fresh start.

Stories in the news

We don't get much news here, unless you make a point of watching the news. There are no headline banners on lamp-posts, and no-one in my small circle talks about the news… ever. The closest we got to a crime story was when Isobella came home from school a few weeks ago, upset that the vegetable store in Green Bay, where we occasionally buy our fruit and veg, was held up by robbers. Her classmate was in the shop at the time, and most traumatic, the lady shop assistant was punched in the face by one of the robbers. This was a conversation piece for several days at school, and Isobella ended up being quite nervous of burglars coming to our home.

We have stuff

We are happy in proportion to the things we can do without. --Henry David Thoreau

Our container arrived ten days ago, and much chaos ensued as we unpacked 173 boxes. Our peaceful, spartan house suddenly looked like a warehouse shop floor, and only the kids seemed to relish the unpacking frenzy.

K and I were dismayed to find that our furniture didn't look that great in our new house, after all. Pale Rimu wood floors, huge skylights and pale cream walls against our colourful, dark-wood and shabby-chic mishmash of stuff made a slightly depressing combination. Luckily we have two empty rooms in the basement where we have stored crates of things we actually no longer want. The couch and tub chairs we bought in SA a month before we left were a great move, as here, everything costs twice the Rand price.

So far, apart from a slightly bent lampshade that was tossed into the boxes in some frantic last-minute packing, we had zero breakages. Kings Movers rock!

Some things we were thrilled to see:

• Our washing machine. No more hand-washing three to four loads per week. Yay!
• Our couch. No more movies that may have been good but seemed really bad because of butt aches.
• Our gardening tools. We spent Easter Monday gardening, and visiting a fabulous garden centre near us (http://www.palmers.co.nz/store_locator/glen_eden.cfm). LOTS of new plant names to learn. I was fascinated to see that many of the NZ native shrubs look a little bit like fynbos. Tiny, intricate leaves. By the way, proteas, aloes and ericas are popular here. I saw the biggest protea bush ever a few days ago.
• K's Mac, because now we can skype.
• Our photo albums and picture frames, so we can see where we come from.
• Desk lamps. No more eye-strain from late-night working on the computers.
• Toys. Whew, this was a biggie. The kids were quiet for, well, about two hours as they played with their long-lost toys.
• Our down duvet. Things were getting a bit chilly under two skimpy single duvets.
• Shoes. Glorious shoes. No more freezing toes from two pairs of slops I brought on the plane.

We were told that once our things arrive we will feel more settled. This is definitely true. No more pretending we are on holiday in an empty house once our own pots and pans (and toilet brush!) arrive. I noticed we don't feel the need to cram six outings into every weekend and are more content to get stuck into the garden, or lounge on a comfy bed listening to tuis and other birds singing in the bush. I guess we are becoming Aucklanders.

It is hard to describe the happiness we feel here. The best would be to say we feel we have the power to get and be what we want. There are just "no worries, mate". At the same time, it's been three months, and both Isobella and I have felt the first real pangs of homesickness: a quiet, deep sadness and longing. The more she mentions her friends she misses, the sadder I feel.

A few days ago I was grocery shopping and looked up to see rows of Ceres fruit juices. My mouth hung open. I looked again, and saw shop shelves packed with Freshpack rooibos tea, Ouma beskuit, tins of Koo, biltong, and so on. Instantly my eyes filled with tears, my cheeks started burning and my heart hurt. I also felt so confused. What was South Africa doing in Auckland? I had stumbled upon the South African section in Food Town, and hadn't even known it existed.

But…it will be OK.

Letter home: Month two: the weeks are flying by

Well, we're heading towards the two-month mark in New Zealand and we've been very, very busy!

We bought a house and moved in last weekend. As our container hasn't arrived yet, we have no furniture, no cutlery, crockery, tin-opener - nothing except the four suitcases of clothes we arrived with. So we spent a week bidding on a community site called TradeMe. We managed to upgrade our bed to a Queen - something we've wanted to do for a while. We bought almost everything off TradeMe and spent last weekend driving around Auckland doing pick-ups. We now have an almost new Sealy bed for a ridiculous bargain price. Most of our kitchenware we picked up for R20.00 (including a box of fifty very old mugs, much to K's disgust). Next we are buying a handmower for about $30 (R150) - they are popular here. It's great fun!

The house itself is about 2.4 km out in the bush. We see a liquid gold sunrise each morning over the sea from one entire wall of our glass house; a pink sunset from the other glass wall over the Waitakere ranges, and a huge creek. Our bathroom looks onto a native forest, and the entire wall of bathroom windows can open. I can lie in the bath staring at the forest. That's as close to heaven as it gets for me.

The weather has been gorgeous for the past month. Exceptionally still. The noisy cicadas have passed on to another realm (R.I.P., literally). Some mornings we sit staring at the ferns and palms, waiting for the tiniest of movements to show it isn't a painting we are ogling.

And it rains. It rains and rains and rains. Most days it rains at least three times. The showers are very heavy and last a few minutes, and the rest of the day is sunny and cloudy all mixed up. It is a wet, moody climate - never a dull moment. Very often, the rain won't even bother to wait for some grey clouds, or even a semblance of a rainy setting. It will tip bucket-loads from a sunny blue sky, like millions of silvery diamonds being flung from the heavens.

We have settled almost entirely now, and we feel this place was tailor-made for us. Each week brings its own challenges, and some days I feel quite overwhelmed by all the work. It is very scary for me that we are not earning dollars yet. Rands mean nothing here and we have started dipping into our reserves. Things continue to be exceptionally expensive. I bought some winter clothing last week at a 70% off sale at TNT (like Ackermans); even so, at 70% off, it was more expensive than in SA. The cheapest toilet brush set at Mitre 10 (a flimsy, small white plastic one) is R50.00. I'll rather wait for mine to arrive.

Last week we went to the Auckland botanical gardens. It is so huge we couldn't get to see everything. They recommend four visits a year, because each season brings its own beautiful displays. There is a huge South African section. We gobbled our picnic lunch in a Zulu hut, under an Acacia, staring at succulents. Felt a few pangs of home-sickness.

The native garden plant section for New Zealand itself is tiny and colourless; they admit this, and are so respectful towards all the countries whose plants they have adopted. The garden, to some extent, is categorised by country, to pay homage to the "roots" of each plant.

I am now a reading tutor at Isobella's school and have been working there for the past three weeks. I am keen to get involved in an adult literacy project (also as a volunteer) and maybe even run some contact magazine journalism courses at the library, and at a college. We have also started having play dates; I can see that is the most important way to start connecting with the community here. I tend to clam up at school meetings etc, and have hardly spoken a word to anyone in weeks, apart from my family. Quite a weird feeling, and working from home doesn't help.

Another thing, which I found quite interesting. I went to a school meeting one night last week (out in the bundu!), and the guest speaker spoke about concerns that affect our parenting today. Here's what concern kiwi parents: violent crime, not feeling safe letting kids go to public spaces on their own anymore, increased traffic on the roads, long working hours and increasing materialism, advertising and lack of "truth" out there, 3 - 4 hours of "screen time" for kids on computers or TV, lack of spirituality. I thought, mmm, I could be sitting in SA hearing this. Common concerns the world over.

But being here is no-where near the stress of living in SA. We still feel blessed and exceptionally proud that we made the move, if I can use that word. My little bit of experience here has been that people are investing energy in being kind and happy, in coping with normal problems in a normalish society. We have slept with our doors open a few times by mistake, plus we sometimes go out and leave the windows wide open. That would never have happened in SA.

Letter home: One month in....

We have been here one month today. It's hard to believe we trudged kilometres up the hill to the monthly Titirangi market, jet-lagged and in the baking sun, four Sundays ago. Today K and I went on a lunch date, leaving the kids with a friend's teenaged daughter, and passed the bustle of that same Titirangi market (and again, it's a scorcher of a day!). It feels as though a lifetime has passed since we first arrived.

In the four weeks, we bought a car, we managed to find schools for the kids, and both of them are extremely happy. K contacted the three main colleges where he could lecture, and has had hours of meetings with them (with no immediate results, I might add). We also bought a house on Valentine's Day, contrary to all common sense and advice for settling immigrants. We can move in by next Friday. Everything in NZ works very quickly, and occupation can be within 5 days. All we need is a lawyer, and there are no transfer fees.

We are thrilled that the plot is over 2200 m2, which was our dream. If we can clear a bit of the bush, we will maybe still get our chickens. When we saw the Jacaranda and lemon tree in the back garden, we thought, mmm, this rings a bell. Must be a good sign.

All has not been a bed of roses though. We adore Titirangi. It is perfect for us, except…. there are always things you can't tell just by looking at online pictures.

For one, the bush in NZ isn't quiet at all. It hisses constantly like a high-pressure industrial gas leak about to explode. The hotter the sun, the higher the pitch of cicada call, a relentless buzzing. In the dead of the night, once the 38 species of millions of noisy cicadas finally take a nap, we hear blood-curdling animal shrieks. It's a violent place for some life forms, apparently.

And it has rained almost every day for the past two weeks, even in the prime heat of Summer. Thick plops of cool water that gush and glug through the clay rivers, down the slopes of the Waitakere ranges and straight into the sea. Life carries on as normal in the rain. Kiwis are a shorts and t-shirt culture, and they walk like that in the rain; sometimes they carry an umbrella.
And then, there's the lack of an instant, taken-for-granted, primeval sense of belonging here. As I wrote to a friend last week, I know why people head back to SA. Because after the novelty of good service, toy libraries, fancy parks, no litter, little crime has worn off, well, then you look around for... love. They head back for love, because love takes time; it cannot be bought or controlled. It is amazing that it constantly ends up being one of the most vital ingredients for mental health and well being. People do crazy things for love.

All in all, we still pinch ourselves every day we wake up here in the rain forest. We are still running up hills, visiting the beach almost every day, cloud-watching, loving the interesting mix of people. Today was a glorious late summer's day, the kind of day where you don't have a care in the world.

Letter home: The Arrival

Exactly two weeks ago we arrived on Qantas at midnight in Auckland dragging 8 cases of luggage and two small sleepy children. We have never been to NZ before, so talk about a blind date! Fortunately, we knew within a few days that this could very well end in marriage….

From the moment I saw the airport, I felt at home. I loved the Maori carved entrance, the huge blown-up photos of nature, the cleanliness, friendliness. We are nature-lovers, and that seems to be a focal point for NZ tourism. Suits us perfectly.

I will never forget the taxi drive to our rental in the bush out West. It was pitch dark outside. We were excited despite our exhaustion after three plane trips across the world; I hung out of the window sucking up the streetlight-lit views, wondering if our Internet-booked rental on 6 acres of bush would indeed even exist. Luckily it did, and the landlord had left the lights on as promised, all the doors unlocked (as promised) with groceries for a midnight snack.

Auckland CBD

We popped in to the famous Lower Queen Street to do our immigrant banking, and I fell in love with inner-city Auckland. Ornate old buildings squeezed next to the slick skyscrapers, the beautiful university peeps through huge, leafy oaks, the sculptures and native bush landscaping, the cosmopolitan mix of city workers, dwellers and tourists. It's a very different population: shades of white. (I do miss black faces though, and realise… we're very far from Africa here.)

It feels exciting and vibey, without masses of people. For me, it is more like Joburg. The CBD is much bigger than Cape Town, and the suburbs spread out as far as the eye can see. I was a bit upset by that, and there were a few days of homesickness in the first week, where I thought - too many houses and people!

There are no squatter camps in Auckland (or New Zealand), but there are vast numbers of suburbs that are so shabby, they are depressing. No gardens, no trees, flaking paintwork, small, exposed and ugly. The same goes for the shopping streets in these suburbs. They are a mishmash of colours, sizes and styles and haphazard sign-posting. In SA, you have developers who create malls with continuity in colour, tone and style. For the low-income areas here, that has not happened. Believe me, there are areas here that rival the smartness of Camps Bay. My eyes almost popped out. St Heliers is uber-chic, and I haven't even got to places like Parnell or Hernes Bay yet.

I would say about 50% of the suburbs around the CBD stretching out West are lower-income. This was a big culture shock for me, even though I had prepared myself for it. Actually going shopping in an area like that every day started getting me down, so we wondered: How can we make this work for us? I don't want to be stuck with something I don't like. In Cape Town, we lived in Pinelands, surrounded mainly by lower-income, industrial areas, and we didn't go to them. And we don't need to here either. We spent this week finding a shopping area in a lovely suburb, and it immediately changed our view of living here.

Out West

We chose an eco-city, Waitakere City, Titirangi, to live. We are into living in the bush, but within 20 minutes from the city. Walking in Titirangi, you would never guess that there is an urban sprawl just over the Waitakere ridge.

Titirangi is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. The plant growth is so prolific: fig trees are massive; lilies that are knee-height in SA tower over our heads, the sea views are spectacular, the black sand beaches (Cornwallis, Bethell's Bay) are spotless and the water so warm and peaceful: in places it is like lukewarm bathwater. We live on a beach, so we swim almost every day.

This is NZ's top artist community. There are over 200 well known artists and graphic artists here, and community grants for them to participate in local public events. The people are so friendly it is mind-blowing. They giggle with happiness (or is there some special medication here I don't know about?). They are relaxed, open, humble, giving. We have had one tea date (with strangers) and one dinner date (with almost-strangers).

Piha and Karekare black sand beaches were a spiritual revelation to me. I have rarely seen a sight so beautiful and untouched. The beaches were pristine. We were there on a perfect, hot day, and I've heard it's usually overcast there with massive, moody, pounding waves. The day we went, the water was crystal clear, the ocean turquoise, towering volcanic rocks, ferns and Kauri bush. The beach is so vast that the few families out walking on the main beach (there are many beach sections) were little stick figures in the distance.

Jobs

This has been an area of stress. If you don't mind seeing your rand-dollars disappearing before your eyes, then you'd be fine waiting for an opening in a company. But we are quite anxious about finances (it's our house deposit!). Maybe it's the time of year, but personally I think the recession here has hit harder and faster than in SA, and people are skittish.

Also, we were hoping that bank interest would bring in a small income to help us not whittle away our savings, but the rates have been slashed by 1.5 % in a week, with another cut imminent, and 2% interest is a far cry from the 10.5% interest we were getting in SA with Nedbank. Makes you think!

We have PR, so that is a comfort, but a job would be great too! Anyway, it is early days, and my heart has gone out to those who are here, want to be here, and have struggled to find work in the past few months. That's probably going to be us in a few months' time. Eek.

Cost of Living

There is no doubt that the general cost of living here is 20 - 30 % more expensive than home. Services are exceptionally pricey, and some food items are far more than in SA. Brown bread here costs $4.00 per loaf on average, which is about R20.00. Now tell me that isn't expensive? White bread is much cheaper, but we don't eat it. We found a Budget brown loaf for $1.49, and we're freezing a bunch of those. Titirangi has only one expensive supermarket, so we go to Henderson's Pak 'n Save once a week and buy a ton of stuff there.

At Pak 'n Save, we are amazed that we spend the same as we did in SA, except for wine, but, well, we can't go without that! Cereal bars, cereals, lamb, butter, milk are the same if not cheaper here. Vegetables at the farmers markets are the same as SA. (Vegetables and fruit are HUGE here and taste like vegetables.) Toiletries are very expensive. I even saw baby wipes in a pharmacy for $20. Imagine spending R100 on some baby bum wipes! Scary.

The Weather

Titirangi has a rainfall of 2300 mm per annum; Cape Town is 540 mm, and other parts of Auckland around 1300 mm. That is our only concern about our suburb choice: will we survive the winter?

The weather so far has, almost every day, been exquisite. We had a few grey days in our first week, and I wondered: will this be like the UK? Have we made a big mistake? But my cousins here assured me that they welcome those grey days, and I soon got to see why. A hot day here (which is almost every day) is VERY hot, and I love it. The trees grow up straight and there is no blasting, freezing South Easter. If the wind blows, it is a gentle breeze compared to what we were used to in Cape Town.

Childcare

Isobella cried all the way from Cape Town to Joburg about leaving Table Mountain and her friends. And then… she never looked back.

She was enrolled in our school of choice within minutes, and started on 3 Feb. She loves it, and made a few friends immediately. My 2-year-old is a different story, and childcare here is tricky and expensive. It costs between $33 and $52 per day fulltime in daycare (which is not my choice). You do the maths! We are looking for a small home-based educator, and luckily there are quite a few companies who train and look after home-based educators. PORSE and Home Grown Kids charge around $7.00 per hour, and you must go for a minimum of 12 hours per week. When my son turns three, 20 hours of weekly childcare fees can be reclaimed.

NZ seems to be a society that supports children and families. The resources available here make me feel a bit weepy, and angry that SA cannot realistically offer the same (you experience lots of mixed emotions being here.) At the library, we as a family can take out 140 books per month. I'm still not over the shock of that.

The parks here are out of this world. There are also free events like Music In the Park in every big suburb almost every weekend. We get a weekly community newsletter full of events for the family, and many of them are free.

So for those still on their way, here's what could make your transition easier:

If you are a nature-lover, if you are concerned about eco and future environmental issues, if you are creative, if you are fine with a youth culture more like that of the UK and Europe(lots of hippy dressing, dreadlocks and surfer gear out in Titirangi; emo hairstyles rule; gangster gear in other areas), are looking to meet people who are humble and not really interested in competing with your looks, your income, your SUV, or your anything for that matter, you MIGHT just love it here. So far we have been gob-smacked by the natural environment, the bird life, the thick and diverse native bush, the heavy, sweet smell in the air, the overwhelming friendliness and helpfulness of the Kiwis, the incredible sea vistas.

The feeling I have here is one from my childhood in the 1970's. Peaceful, innocent, communal, convivial. We went to the Chinese Lantern Festival on Waitangi Day in the inner city, and we were pressed up against thousands and thousands of people; it reminded me of something from my childhood, some lost memory of a time when people were people, and not angry "monsters" capable of shocking human atrocities.

For me, the two weeks of remembering that happy, warm childhood feeling, being in touch with human beings predominantly concerned with the NORMAL daily grind of being alive, far outweighs the stress of living in SA. Money cannot buy what we have found here.

A gut-wrenching Old Year's Eve

... and not in the way you'd think. I spent Old Year's Eve clutching the porcelein edge of our toilet bowl, retching my entire food intake for the day. Isobella and I took turns to empty our stomachs, and by 10 pm, we were parched and fragile. It felt like we'd been lassoed around our waists and dragged behind a horse for an hour.

Some start to 2009, I thought grimly. On the other hand, it felt, on some masochistic level, strangely liberating to be purging the remnants of the past year. I had a few fleeting thoughts about things that had made me "sick and tired" lately, and took a tiny pleasure in saying, "Let it go. Let it all out." Even if it was a toilet bowl I was talking to.

So New Year's Day, 23 days till we leave, I'm lying on our couch recovering from the stomach flu. Our trip to visit friends in Riebeeck Kasteel is cancelled, and today it's K's turn for close communion with the toilet. I tease him, calling him "Mr Carbonara Man". He'd insisted on cooking up a rich dish for himself to celebrate Old Year's Eve, and the smell of eggs, ham and cream wafting upstairs had made it even harder for Isobella and me.

I am not used to "lying about", and the house is strangely silent as we all recover. It gives me time to think about things I am grateful for, things I appreciate today.

TIME: I just know that, in time, the discomfort I am feeling on all levels - a sore body, a worried head - will pass. I will soon know again the taken-for-granted comfort of a healthy body; I will, over the next year, encounter strange and scary times, and these will pass. Deep down, I know we are entering a new stage of our lives. I see peace ahead. An opening for something nurturing and more carefree.

HEARTACHE: Thank you for my heartache. Without it, I wouldn't have felt alive. I wouldn't have known what lessons I have to learn, why I am here. It's bliss to stare my heartache in the eye, know it belongs to me and my life until I die. I can't fix this one, no matter how hard I try.

KINDNESS: I am blessed to have a partner who has brought kindness into my life. All the happiest times over the past ten years have been with him, and the family and community of friends we have created together.

K has stood gently by my side, weathered each crossroad in my life, quietly watched each choice I made that usually turned out so well. He is the best thing to happen to me, the kindest person to share a Sunday morning.

CHOICE: The power to choose is surely one of the most invigorating aspects of being human. We could easily stay in South Africa. We could spend the rest of our lives trying to fix problems that do not belong to us, waiting for the fear to stop, waiting for a sense of belonging and peace. But we are not.

We gave it our best shot, and now we are trying a different road.

GROWTH: I am grateful for all the paths we have taken over the past 10 years, moments of fortuitous synchronicity that just worked out so damn well. It constantly amazes me that most of everything we love unfolded with little effort, one good choice leading to the next.