New Zealand

On a mission finding rubbish on the beach this morning at Lyall Bay in Wellington in an attempt to tire the kiddo out for some sewing/blogging time this afternoon. I kept having to persuade Hannah that she had to pick it up and put it in the rubbish bin rather than burying it. She seems to have picked up on my housework mantra “if you can’t see it, it isn’t there.” (Read: pile crap into cupboards and worry about it later)

I had an encounter on my way home which greatly disturbed me and I feel I must share it here lest my head explodes. I was at the supermarket getting lunch and made my way to the express queue (with less than the required items. Drives me mad when people have more than 12!) and there were three young guys in front of me dressed in mosque-going garb. At the counter there were a pile of groceries and when all of us spotted them we started to move into the other queue. A (middle-aged white) man came racing back and the 3 dudes in front of me started apologising for being in the way. Then something happened which I didn’t exactly head but the 3 guys started saying things like “I’m from Hamilton” and “Yes, I’m muslim” and then they started mumbling something about why they were being asked where they were from (in obvious kiwi accents, might I add). A few other things were said that I didn’t quite catch and as the middle-aged white man left he said, “You are lucky to be here” to the Muslim guys, to which they replied “Hey man, it’s my country too”. It all happened so fast and I didn’t get a chance to say anything but on my walk home I was absolutely fuming. How DARE he question their right to be in New Zealand? For one, at least one of them was born here and obviously so. I highly doubt that the ancestors of the white guy were native to New Zealand. Just because there are limits on immigration now doesn’t make him more worth of living in New Zealand than anyone else. So screw you, silly man. And rock on to the extremely polite young guys in their funky outfits who were in front of me. (They apologised for me having to wait… which was unnecessary as it is a queue [the definition of waiting] but very considerate.)

Now I’m off to do some sewing (and calming down) before the demon awakes.


10 thoughts on “New Zealand

  1. Don’t you just hate it when you see something like that and your brain can’t respond fast enough to protest? Then you (well, I) spend the rest of the day crafting incredibly meaningful responses? Grr racism.


  2. <>“So screw you, silly man. And rock on to the extremely polite young guys in their funky outfits who were in front of me.”<>Well, you might have missed your chance to say something in the supermarket but you summed it all up perfectly in your blog.


  3. I hope you at least made shocked/nasty faces to the neo-nazi man and sympathetic faces to the Muslim men. When I’m at a loss for words, the faces are my substitute.


  4. hehe Thanks for pointing out how extraordinarily articulate I am Terence 😉And Ali, glad I’m not the only one who has brain freeze in these situations!Janelle – Yep! You’ll see the product of that today. 🙂Michaela’s CIL (BTW – do you have a name? It feels weird that I’m referring to you by your relationship with someone I haven’t met either!) – faces are good… I just haven’t mastered the art of them. I’d probably end up giving a “come hither” look instead of a “I’m truly disgusted with you” look.


  5. Oooo Nikki!That does get my hackles up!We are all immigrants in New Zealand….who the F#$% does that man think he is!Sadly I am sure those polite young men are used to it.I had a couple of summers in my teens when my hair was wild, skin was dark, clothes were different and I’d have people coming up saying “you’re one of them aren’t ya” etc etc people thought I was from the middle east. It was shocking and heartbreaking to realise what ethnic people’s go through. Even just by treating those men as a n equal would of showed your support, thats more than alot do.


  6. Unfortunately we live in a world were people of scared of differences, which means that every now and then we come face to face with jerks like the man you met today!!!! Hoefully he tripped over his shoelace, stood in dog poo or walked into a lampost later in the day…Karma will be out to get him!! By the way I LOVE yor cleaning Mantra, so similar to my own……..


  7. haha, Nikki, yes I do have a name. I don’t use it on Michaela’s blog, though, because I’m a high school teacher. The last thing I need is for some of my students to find me on her blog. I can certainly start using it here if you’d like.


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