As we passed through the glass doors from the airport terminal, our hosts Helen Schofield and Deborah Davies stood waiting for us just 30 feet or so away. They captured our arrival in photos.
After hugging Helen (who Lisa and I already knew, as she visited our neck of the woods two years ago and stayed two weeks), I took a step sideways and was greeted Maori style by Deborah, who motioned for me to touch our noses and foreheads together (in a hongi gesture) as she greeted me with haere mai o aotearoa (Welcome to the Land of the Long White Clouds–aka New Zealand in UK/US English.) This was my first introduction to how profoundly embedded Maori culture remains here. New Zealand embraces its Indigenous roots; you don’t have to go looking for a reservation or a powwow to understand that New Zealand’s original people remain; they aren’t vestigal; they are vibrant, robust, proud, and ever-present. TV reporters and personalities carry the tattoos on their bodies that reveal important aspects of their personal/lived stories. And the Maori know their ancestry back in time for generations; their ancestors remain vital to them.
Our first “amygdala ringer” was when Deborah drove us out of the parking garage on what Lisa and I would deem (given our driver training in the US) “the wrong side of the road.” It took days for us to figure out how that all worked, especially since there are so many roundabouts in NZ. Deborah had Siri to guide her to our various destinations, but even listening to that didn’t give Lisa or me confidence that we could have figured out the roundabouts! Maybe after a month or so of riding around as passengers, but certainly not in just two weeks!
After we got to Helen’s to unload our gear, we noticed a welcome cake Helen had baked and a banner that ran the length of the living room welcoming us. Then Deborah and Helen took us on a brief tour of their three local beaches — Cockle Bay, Howich Beach, and Buckland’s Beach. We walked on one of them and beneath the roots/branches/trunks of an enormous Pohutakawa Tree (familiarly called their Christmas Tree since the leaves turn bright red at Christmastime). It was during this drive that we saw our first Norfolk Pine, which blew us away. It is like no other pine in the U.S.
During this brief foray, Deborah stopped the car briefly to have a chat with one of her neighbors who happened to be former Howick mayor Sir Barry Curtis. He reminded me of Dick Van Dyke; a delightful gentlemen. Howick named a park after him. (Auckland has named several parks after its most beloved mayors.)
According to Helen, “he was mayor of a branch of Auckland when they were all little ones before becoming amalgamated under one council, but was thought so highly of to have been granted such a large park to be named after him acknowledging the work he did for the people. The park is 230 acres in size.
When we got back, we met (for the first time) Neil Dawson, Helen’s across-the-street neighbor and her dog-watcher/walker/toy-tosser whenever she isn’t available to do the honors. She told us, in advance, that he had raised the American flag on his pole to welcome us to NZ. He kept it up the entire time we were there, too.
We also met Mark, Helen’s husband, for the first time (not including video chats). He had just undergone knee replacement surgery three days before (he had waited three years to get it and the hospital scheduled it at exactly the wrong time, had they been given the choice!) so he was in recovery mode. He was still pleasant, just not as talkative as he became as the visit went on and he began to feel better.
Helen gave Lisa and me two blanket throws. Mine has two raccoons on it; Lisa’s has cats and books on hers. Mine came in mighty handy during the two weeks I was there and on the plane during the last leg of the flight home.
And of course we met the indefatigable Rafferty, Helen’s dog, whose job it is (he believes) to seek and fetch every toy thrown in the house or anywhere else. He was delightful!
