What it means to be a New Zealander
I can only speak from my own experience, as a seventh generation New Zealander, growing up in Southland -- at the bottom of the South Island.
As a child growing up in New Zealand, I learnt the value of being a true-blue kiwi. To be a true-blue kiwi means to be industrious, innovative, hard working, connected with the land and one's roots, friendly and most importantly to be humble.
I couldn't mention being a kiwi without making reference to where the term 'kiwi' comes from. A kiwi is a large and flightless bird native to New Zealand. It wanders without flight amongst the forest floor during the evening hours. Kiwis are shy and usually nocturnal, and rely heavily on smell to forage food rather than with eyesight - thus being the only bird with nostrils at the end of their beak. They are a monogamous bird, preferring to mate with one partner throughout the course of their life. When it comes to the size of their egg, in proportion with their body, kiwis are the world's best at laying more than they are capable of. They truly are unique. They are protected by Tane Mahuta, the great Maori god of the forest. If you are so lucky as to meet a kiwi in the wild, relish the experience whole-heartedly!
Like our namesake, the kiwi people share similar traits with this unique and wonderful bird. We tend to 'bite off more than we can chew', taking on and enduring tasks that are seemingly impossible to most -- all with an undeterred determination. Humble and subtle, you must take the time to appreciate great work, to see the great work, that takes place in New Zealand.
"Make hay while the sun shines"
"What goes around comes around"
"Love thy neighbour"
"The strong man is not he who speaks the loudest"
"Keep it simple stupid"
I spent a large portion of my childhood growing up with my Grandparents in the country experiencing a very old fashioned way of life. Every morning begun with the sunrise and every day finished with the frog's song. My Grandad would be out cutting the thistles with a scythe, putting together old mechanical cogs for a tractor, or inventing a piece of machinery to cut firewood. His favourite time of day was the evening, when he would be greeted to a locally brewed cold beer and a hearty dinner cooked on the coal range. My Grandmother would spend her days spinning wool, making soaps, knitting, baking or tending to the garden. It was all very simple, yet hard work.
When not in the country, I was with my father going for Sunday drives to local beaches or forests and learning about the local history of the area. I'd learn about the Taniwha (Maori mythology) who lurked in the dark spaces below the trees; or accounts about the sealers who braved the unforgiving Antarctic conditions along the South Coast to make themselves a better future. Every trip was a history lesson, or at the very least, a colourful story about the old heritage buildings that litter the back roads. Another common activity during these weekend drives, was to spend hours collecting shells and rocks from 'Cosy Knook' - thus learning from a young age to appreciate nature and the subtleties found when looking at something, seemingly the same as all the other somethings, only to discover that each something held its own unique beauty. My father also taught me that everything has more than one purpose, and what is one man's junk is another man's treasure. There was no such thing as waste -- just an imagination not bold enough to create its new use. My mother was closely bonded with my Grandparent's and extended relatives, and as a child I would listen to all the stories of the relatives and generations once living in the Southland region. She too -- like my Grandparents and my father -- was industrious and hardworking. She sewed all our clothes, knitted our jerseys, and ensured culture played a tune in our lives. Time spent together involved honest food and sing along around the piano.
The local neighbourhood was full of adventure waiting to be shared with the other local children. With space always being in abundance, our next challenge was always just a daydream away. Every neighbourhood was safe, quiet and full of life to be discovered. Long bike rides along a local river, or tree huts in a paddock, were always marked with long and creative conversations that sustained our enquiring young minds. We always had nature nearby to answer and entertain the never ending questions found in our youthful minds. Every family showed their own touch of hospitality and cared for another's child like they would their own.
Now, as a young adult in New Zealand, to be a New Zealander means to give back to the next generation. I feel an engrained sense of obligation to maintain and sustain the ways of the old - as these are the ways that will allow for a safe, prosperous and exciting future for the next. As a New Zealander: I speak through my actions not through my words; I work towards the future with respect for the past; and I understand intuitively that our environment plays as much part in being a New Zealander as the people do.
We do not care for the fancy: we care for the value, the ethic and for doing things properly -- whilst never standing on top of another. It isn't about speed: it is about care and quality. To be simply satisfied, industrious and always open to offering a helping hand to someone in need, is to be a New Zealander. We love to express ourselves in a practical, resourceful and creative way. This is what it means to be a New Zealander -- to me anyway.
