2 March – Catching Up, and Nelson

Since the last post, Dick and I went cycling with friends Suzanne and Mark in the Hutt Valley. They really know how to pack a picnic! Complete with wine. Later that evening, we attended a Fringe Festival 2-man play called Black Faggot. It was about the challenges of Maori/Pasifika people who are LGBT. It was both humorous and insightful.

Kat and Bryan arrived in Wellington on Sunday. Monday they had a great time at Wellington Zoo and Weta Works. Then, my beloved crazy kids took a 2:30 AM ferry from Wellington to Picton, South Island. Apparently it was a really rocking and rolling cruise. Then they rented a vehicle and drove, for the first time, on the left-hand side of the road. They said it wouldn’t have been so bad had they not been on narrow roads with hair-pin turns, no guard rails on the cliff sides, with logging trucks on their tail. Geez – I should have warned them!

Dick and I also left for Nelson on Tuesday, but at a far more reasonable hour. The views from the plane (yes, a plane, not a jet!) were gorgeous. We spent the morning walking around the CBD (central business district); then I went to Nelson School for Girls at 1pm, where I had an appointment to continue my fieldwork. Lots of good insights there; then I arrived at our hotel around 5pm. The kids met up with us but were too tired to go out for dinner (what a surprise!) Dick and I wanted to go to the coast, and we got a recommendation from our cabbie for a seaside restaurant. Our waiter, an LA transplant that has been here since 1998, was great, and we had a second floor table by the window where we watched guys windsurfing and enjoyed a beautiful sunset while eating a delicious lamb dinner. PRICEY, but delicious. The pricey is hard to escape, so it’s always good when the food is excellent.

This morning we had breakfast with the kids before they headed to Kaikoura. Then they dropped me off at Victory Elementary where I spent 8 hours under the guidance of the school's refugee coordinator, Dianne. Victory is a suburb of Nelson, and it has a high proportion of resettled refugees. The school's populations is roughly one-third each of refugees, Pasifika, and White. By the end of the day I had no energy except to want to sit in silence and let my energy get back to speed. We interviewed, visited classrooms, met all the teachers at morning tea, walked to the intermediate school, talked to more teachers, walked into the town centre, visited two early childhood centres, returned to Victory and went into two after-school programs, and looked at a few school yearbooks before Dianne drove me back to my hotel.   

I am so impressed with the respect the NZ schools with refugees give to their international students and families. They have signs saying Welcome in all the language groups of students in their schools, and they have laminated teaching tools in multiple languages. Even when parents say they want their kids to learn English, the school staff impress on them that it is also important for their children to retain their first language (!) They do not pressure their English language learners (ELLs) to accomplish regular achievement standards from the time they arrive like we do.  I am wondering if it has to do with how they have chosen to respect and include the Maori people, in contrast to what the US does regarding American Indians. In NZ, Maori is an official language and is used regularly in political speeches and in general conversation. “Kia ora” is the traditional way to say “hello” in NZ; it is Maori.

I have heard from some teachers that there is Kiwi misunderstanding and discrimination against refugees. However, even they tell me that it is not as racist or mean-spirited as, for instance, online citizens’ responses about refugee news stories in the US. I recently read a news story about a NZ refugee who died of cancer, and a reason given was that he did not have a good grasp of English. Reader response was near 200, and the majority wrote that it was inexcusable that someone who had endured such horrific life situations would die because of a lack of support in NZ. Others who mentioned their own Kiwi family members’ poor health care did not make comments such as “Why should refugees get good care when Kiwis do not?” kind of thing. I pay attention to reader comments, and I have not found Americans, in general, to be as gracious. Of course, some are very generous. But those who are not tend to be particularly  nasty and uninformed.

I am totally exhausted, but loaded with information. Lucky for me, Dick went out after I returned, and he bought food to cook dinner in our hotel room so I don’t have to go out again today. I am so hoping to keep my field work to 5-6 hours tomorrow, as I would also like some opportunity to see some of Nelson’s scenic walks and venues before we head back to Wellington on Friday. A steady 8 hours of fieldwork was a bit over-stimulating.

On Thursday I returned to Nelson College for Girls, interviewed a few more teachers and students, learned about more school programs and national standards, and enjoyed their diversity celebration, where all of the girls from different traditions and/or nations performed songs or dances. The Kiwi students in the audience were very appreciative, clapping loudly, yay-ing, and stamping their feet. Many were also taking photos or videos. Afterwards there are a multi-ethnic lunch outside, where one could go to various food stations for food. I had a great plate of Thai for lunch!

I returned to the hotel, rested a bit, then Dick and I took a beautiful 6.5K walk, first through town and up to the geographical centre of NZ, then across a mountain and through sheep fields, then down to a Japanese garden. The mountain views over to Abel Tasman National Park were beautiful, even though the sun was blazing in that direction. After several days of intensive research, it was great to get a physical break.