Up Front: Where You From?
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ChrisW, in reply to
Thanks Sofie - another dose yesterday at day-ward locally, brief tiredness to follow but all is going well, good prospects.
A Mangonui story from the early 1950s around the time of my birth - major floods and slips had taken out the Mangamuka Gorge road and the alternatives, Kaitaia was to be isolated for a week. The Advocate ran a story that "vital supplies" for the Far North were being sent by scow to Mangonui, recalling the old days of the "Roadless North". My Dad sees the educational value of this event and organised transport for the entire Peria school down to Mangonui to experience this first hand. They arrived to see the scow at the wharf unloading, but found its entire cargo of vital supplies consisted of beer! Indeed educational.
Perhaps there was another scow-load of cans of baked beans on the way.
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ChrisW, love that story! (There is vitamin B in beer, right?) It made me think of this, too.
Kia kaha with the treatment, and I hope you are feeling better every day.
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enthusiastic Canadian is a suspicious conjunction, eh
Oh, you have not met my friend Sinead. She does go out a lot, too.
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Sacha, in reply to
Whangamomona
Had a memorable school trip to a forestry camp at Te Wera with an awesome flying fox to transport goods (and wide-eyed kids) across a big valley. Ta for prompting me to break out the map.
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Sacha, in reply to
nice work, sir. kia ora
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Jackie Clark, in reply to
How did I miss this? Good vibrations coming to you from up here. It's a shit, I know.
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Raymond A Francis, in reply to
Te Wera, went to a family wedding there just a couple of weeks ago
I was in my second best mocker (no use wearing a suit in Taranaki, they don't seem to do formal) so wasn't tempted by the flying fox
It was talked about but I didn't actually sight it, so can't say that it is still thereWe (my dear wife was born there) talked about moving back to Taranaki but although there is plenty to like about the place there is an old fashioned way of perceiving women I am not prepared to live with
On the other hand her Great grand parents are buried here and the Lane we live in is named after another relation, so she can claim here to be her home too
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Sacha, in reply to
can't say that it is still there
I did wonder - no sign of even the camp on Google Maps or perhaps I wasn't looking hard enough. Mind you it was some time ago and the trees have all likely been harvested. By lumberjacks, perhaps.
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Completely off-topic but what the hell archie i had to share it somewhere:
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Islander, in reply to
Yep, you’re right – I never really experienced much about Wellington at all (and never discovered much about the Hutts because there was never a reason to venture out into them…)
*clam juice: I have tasted this in Vancouver. This is the stuff we throw out after lightly steaming the cockles. My host at this paticular bar, after I went -politely, because ANZers & Canadians have quite a bit in common- “Tastelessyuk"said, “O, right – you need the zinger.” Which was clam juice AND freshly squished seedless tomato juice, AND a couple of drops of Tabasco sauce. Tasted really OK, of tomato juice & Tabasco…
Chris W- anything I can help with? I know, being in home territory is best – but maybe there’s something I can send to while the recuperative hours away? (My nextdoor naybore has had a run-in with nonHodgkinson’s lymphsoma, and found both juices & quirky things helped once she had got back on her feet again after each bout of chemo-)
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ChrisW, in reply to
Good vibrations coming to you from up here.
Thanks Jackie - expressed in a form befitting an Aucklander of many generations after many generations of non-earthquakes :-)
Clark - Crown Lynn - New Lynn - my Dad most definitely from there rooted in that same clay, his father improved the garden soil with a family generation's contents of the bucket under the dunny seat. The banks of the Rewarewa Creek at the foot of that garden, for boy-Dad to launch self-made canoes then 10 ft yacht, down to the Whau Creek out to the harbour and beyond.
Was his interest in rewarewa the tree and its remarkable decorative non-burning timber later in life coincidental? Many stories passed on to me, and now I have a 10-metre rewarewa beside my house to bring his home and presence to my home, its lovely split seedpod follicles making perfect miniature waka-canoes after the spectacular flowering and winged seed dispersal instruct and dramatise the cycle of life.
All positive those vibrations between homes we are from.
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And thanks Islander, the moral support from PAS women is uplifting, and not to a fault. I have a library of as-yet-unread books to while away the recuperative hours, and a reliable book-fair to go to in the morning! I have one of the many varieties of non-Hodgkins lymphoma too, the standard chemo for it is one of the best targeted so not too bad at all. I extend to tested active manuka honey, flaxseed oil and acidophilous yoghurt as part of the follow-up, but otherwise sticking with the straightfoorward medical model, and all the indications so far very good.
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Chris, my Dad's great grandparents' built a house called Ngaroma (now Clark House, belonging to the Air Force) in Hobsonville. The Upper Waitemata was at the bottom of their garden and Dad went sailing from there. So westie sailors both, eh?
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I LOVE this thread. Only just seen it. Too far from home! So much of it is familiar – New Zealanders do seem to move around so much, it can be hard to say where you are from opposed to where you feel most at home.
When people here ask me where I’m from, it’s New Zealand (never London – they’ve heard my accent, that’s the reason they’re asking). But so many from here have visited, or have family or friends here, etc. etc – so they ask ‘Where in New Zealand?’ and that’s where it gets trickier.
Born in Invercargill, brought up in Ashburton (now there’s a place it’s hard to feel at home in if your family don’t stay there for generations), Uni at Christchurch (and yes Islander, it was Varsity when I started there in ’89) – loved Christchurch as a student, but don’t think I could have lived there as an adult. Then glorious Wellington (first in Thorndon, then Lower Hutt – I loved it there though I realise it can be an acquired taste – and then in the lovely Aro Valley). All my Christchurch friends seemed to wait until I was leaving before they moved there too.)
Moved to Tauranga for a year or so, then by choice, back to Invercargill. Where I stayed until I moved to London. I’ve been here longer than I lived in any of those places, but I’m still from Invercargill when anyone asks. I love the place, the people, the whole region. Some of my earliest memories are eating pipi’s on the beach at Papatowai, while staying at my grandparent’s crib. The bush, the sea, the paua shells washed up everywhere, the smell of the seaweed and the sight of a lone surfer trying out the superb beach break.
Islander, one of my best memories of just before I left was sitting with friends in the shallows at Colac Bay, enjoying the warm currents that seem to sweep in there. And I wish I could remember better and describe the sounds of my grandparent’s speech – especially grandad – the southland burr that really takes me home.
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Sofie Bribiesca, in reply to
standard chemo for it is one of the best targeted so not too bad at all. I extend to tested active manuka honey, flaxseed oil and acidophilous yoghurt as part of the follow-up
Hey Chris,seeing as you are a Peria boy, this Peria boy might be the right person to help with your enquiries. Had me wondering if you knew him. Old family of the area. Lovely people to boot.:)
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I love Invercargill, Tamsin. I have no idea why it seems to be so maligned. On our family trips around the South Island, we often went that far south, and something about the place always seemed so wonderful to me.
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Jacqui Dunn, in reply to
while staying at my grandparent’s crib.
Love that term. Up north it’s a “bach”. And the way people from Invercargill say the name - Invercarrrgill.
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ChrisW, in reply to
So westie sailors both, eh?
Dad's ambition was to own a yacht with a deck he could walk on, first achieved with a trailer sailer then 20ft cruising catamaran moored in the Mangemangeroa Creek close to home in Cockle Bay - so we became Eastie sailers. Yeah - I know it will never catch on, and Cockle Bay better than the much denigrated Howick?
"Home" - yes it was a fine home for a time, wonderful the visual and physical access to the Hauraki Gulf - all those uniquely individual islands and the gaps between them. One distinct memory from the early 70s - near enough becalmed off Motukorea/ Browns Island in the catamaran one day when "Buccaneer" swept close by on a broad reach seemingly sailing at several times the wind speed - magnificent. I wonder if your Westie sailer was aboard that day?
And Sofie - thanks again, some day I may go further enquiring, currently seems not a major focus, I'm preoccupied by another bundle of diverse books to delve into ...
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Jackie Clark, in reply to
Buccaneer never left her berth unless Dad was at the wheel. The nickname Capt Araldite didn't come out of nowhere, you know!
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Lea Barker, in reply to
Thanks, Ian. It was indeed Clifford Green. It was her son who used to meet potential tenants and let the flats when I lived there in the early 70s.
And thanks for the link to the Canterbury Heritage site. My great grandfather, Enoch Barker, was the first Government Gardener hired by the provincial government to create the Botanic Gardens and Hagley Park. His wife supposedly named New Brighton, where he moved to run a plant nursery. He drowned in the Avon after slipping off a log he used for a footbridge. Family legend has it that he was in his cups. I don't know if it's in the part of the Provincial Chambers that's still standing, but his portrait used to hang there.
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I was talking about this subject to a friend at the weekend (Canadian, lived here for almost a decade), and he said something that struck me as rather lovely, and also quite sad.
"Because I've moved around so much, home has become the place where I'm not. Or the place I'm going back to."
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A few years back, I had dinner with a friend and his friend in the revolving restaurant in the Sky Tower. I'll never forget at one point when I was just idly gazing at my hometown rolling below me, fondling the curves of the familiar roads and coastline with my eyes, that the friend of the friend said "Isn't it awful? All these people living on top of each other. Give me the country any day". I felt then that he could never really be my friend. But then I remembered he was a country boy, and forgave. We've all been imprinted in different ways.
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Lovely, lovely thread, Emma. The first thing I was reminded of when I read your headline was "Where you stay?", a question I learned about from Wayne Youle when we filmed the artwork of the same title for New Artland.
http://tvnz.co.nz/new-artland/series-2-wayne-youle-2933571
Whereas us Pakeha ask "Where you from?" in all the senses that you describe, "Where you stay?" assumes that you already know where you are "from". "Where you stay?" means "Where are you living at the moment", and also "Where do you identify with (even if you don't live there)?" and also a little bit of "Where you from?" Fun, eh!
So, I'm "from" Naenae & Papatoetoe (and Cork/Denmark/Manchester/Italy). I "stay" in Brooklyn NYC, Pt Chevalier AK, Wellington Central... and the Coromandel. Yeah. -
Late to this lovely thread, my excuse is we just got kittens and I was distracted :)
I'm really not sure I have the physical home some of you are talking about. I was born in Palmerston North (which gives me the right to bag it mercilessly). Grew up in Titirangi, flatted all over Auckland and rode my bike all over Auckland, spent my summers in Ranui, learned my career in Auckland, spent a few years in the US learning how to do my work properly and then came back to live in Mt Roskill.
But none of that binds me to a place. I don't "have a mountain" I don't belong to a river or a sea. I don't even think I really belong to the house I mostly built (although that remains to be tested).
But I do relate my home to people. Home is where my partner lives. Home is where my cats live (even when I was in the US). Home is where my friends live. And home is where my kittens are tearing apart anything they can. Home is where my mother lives. As I grew up home was where my friends were and those are the things I remember from growing up - the friends not the places.
So for me, home isn't a place, it's a group of connections with people and the things those people mean to me. When I'm closest to the centre of those connections, then I'm home.
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Megan Wegan, in reply to
Late to this lovely thread, my excuse is we just got kittens and I was distracted :)
Pics please.
So for me, home isn't a place, it's a group of connections with people and the things those people mean to me. When I'm closest to the centre of those connections, then I'm home.
I always thought I was a bit the same, and I have been surprised by how sad I have been over some of the physical places in Christchurch. The Arts Centre, most notably, but this made me cry yesterday. (Although, a good deal of that is thinking about the fact that 4 days before the earthquake, Emma and I walked down those streets, and joked about the earthquake recovery.)
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