HUMANS, IN MY OPINION, are fascinating. I love the mix’n’match variety in Godzone these days. I love the great-big-melting-pot that our country has become. And I love the people, in all their rainbow-shades, who’ve chosen our small islands as their home.
The wonder of it struck me just recently when I went shopping. In less than an hour I had the good fortune to greet, talk with, get smiled at, and be served by a whole spectrum of new New Zealanders:
- the talented Vietnamese lady who owns a clothing-alteration shop and knows how to make my shirts and pants fit my stocky frame
- the energetic Turkish guy who brews good coffee in a little café and splits his face with a grin whenever we see each other
- the bright young Indian girl who works in the shoe shop and never fails to give me a cheerful, sunny wave
- the Chinese masseurs in the middle of the mall who work magic on my stiff neck and giggle at my halting Mandarin
- the Israeli students in the next booth along who once sold me some stuff made from Dead Sea mud and won’t stop trying to sell me more.
And everywhere I looked I saw bright-eyed Kiwis of endless shapes and sizes – Pakeha, Maori, Polynesian, and who-knows-what – all happily going about their busy-busy lives.
Most of these people, in my experience, are decent, hard-working people. They’ve got names worth knowing … stories worth hearing … dreams worth pursuing. And they’re helping make New Zealand a better place.
As far as I’m concerned, I OWE them! They’re enlarging my world and enriching my heart.