I Love Being a Foreigner

Aside from having an indecent amount of sheep, New Zealand is very similar to British Columbia. It’s a very young country, has lots of mountains (I’m going skiing on them this June), and is home to a very outdoorsy lot. In essence, ‘tis Hippieland.

There are some slight differences, however, that make sure I never get too disoriented.

For example: this place is ridiculously safe.

No poisonous creatures, like the big spiders, jellyfish, etc., that I’ll be finding in Australia.

There’s hardly ever any serious earthquakes or tsunamis, considering that they’re right on the edge of the tectonic plate that keeps on giving South East Asia so much trouble.

There aren’t any big carnivorous mammals, like the bears and cougars of our homeland which we take so for granted but leave the Kiwis I meet in awe and fear. You should see their faces when I tell them.

“Oh yeah, I’ve seen tons of bears. No, don’t worry. They’re not dangerous. As long as you don’t get in between them and their food or young. Or provoke them. Or if they’ve grown used to humans and are in the dump or something. Or gone camping with food in your tent. No seriously, I consider myself lucky when I see a bear.”

*preens under awe*

“And is it true you have. . .” They pause, as if determined to pronounce a complicated word properly. “. . . squirrels?”

“Yep,” I answer knowledgeably. “And when the colonists first arrived we didn’t have much else to eat so the Indians showed us how to hunt them. That’s why in Canada we celebrate Thanksgiving with roast squirrel instead of turkey.”

*cackles*. God, I love being the foreigner. People’ll believe anything.

Note to self: never pursue a career as an ambassador.

Love!
Lentil,

The Girl Who Might Have a Compulsive Story-Telling Disorder. ;)

I Heart House!!!!! XD

The name “New Zealand” comes from the first European discoverers of the two main islands, who were Dutch. The funny thing is that even though they got to name this country after a region in their be-tulipped homeland, they never actually set foot on land.

For you see, there were already some people there, and unlike our naively trusting Algonquins and Mohawks, these natives weren’t so quick to trust these pale wusses. In fact, the moment they saw Mr. Tasman and his ship they started throwing spears at the ship, managing to kill one of the sailors before the Dutchies had so much as set out on a dinghy. Understandably, Tasman beat a quick retreat, figuring they didn’t need fresh water that badly.

It was only some years later when Cook, the guy who played a vital role in exploring the Vancouver Island region as well, arrived that Europeans actually started to settle on these far-flung Pacific islands, keeping a very tenuous peace with the locals. Might I remind you that this “peace” is from the guy who got roasted and eaten in Hawaii later.

New Zealand is famous for its above average relations between the Europeans and the natives. I can’t help but think it’s because the Maori, and I’m going to take a step out of the politically correct arena, are as or even more violent than we are! Yeesh. . . That’s kinda scary. . .

They certainly have an interesting culture. They arrived by canoe around 700 years ago from the Philippines and named the two main islands The Land of the Long White Cloud. They lay a huge emphasis on their heritage and the nobles could recite their bloodline all the way back to when they first arrived.

My favourite tidbit about their history, though, is that they introduced the dog to this previously mammal-less country and drove the moa, an enormous flightless bird, to extinction. It’s nice to know that it’s not just us who were so mindlessly stupid. J

Despite all of this sophistication, though, they sure didn’t believe in the whole “live and let live” bit, or “let’s gang up and face the bigger enemy” idea.

They were constantly at war with each other (much like the Greeks) and they didn’t stop even when the whiteys came. For instance, once this Maori got all dressed up and up-to-date on diplomatic jargon and went to Queen Victoria and asked for his people to be recognized in English law. The Queen liked him so much that she accepted his request and even gave him lots of money to help his people get back on their feet. He got back on his ship, had a stopover in Australia, spent all of the money on guns, handed them out to his clan, and slaughtered all of the neighbouring clan.

Another example is how there’s these Chatham Islands to the east of NZ’s “mainland”, which was populated by a people anciently related to the Maori called the Moriori. They, in their isolation, had created a Utopia. They didn’t kill. Seriously, they didn’t kill a soul. Had a religion against it that actually upheld it. They never had a war. They never had squabbles that ended with a tomahawk to the head. Nothing. Nada. They were the nicest people that have probably ever existed.

Then a white settler gave a group of five hundred or so Maori a lift to the island and the Maori slaughtered half of them and enslaved the rest. The last non-métis Moriori died in 1933.

Fortunately, New Zealand’s done more than enough to, if not erase, at least make up for its violent past. For example, the Maori are so recognized by Kiwi law that Maori is actually legally the country’s second language. It’s also one of the most liberal countries in the world. It was the first country to give women the right to vote (in 1893. Canada only let us in 1918, and that was only in federal elections), the first country to give the citizens free health care, it’s a nuclear-free zone, and it has the best environmental policies I’ve ever seen.

Plus it has lots of kiwi fruit.

Thus: New Zealand’s the best country ever.

Case dismissed.

. . .

Or blog dismissed. Whatever.

PS - I'm in love with House right now. Hence the title.

*dies*. . . so. . . smart. . . and pretty. . .