The koru, seen below, is a common Maori symbol that suggests the parallel existence of constant movement and return to "the center". In other words, it reflects things can both change and stay the same simultaneously. I knew that I loved the fern koru when I first saw one in person. Dualism has played a large part in my life: I'm small with a big personality, American and Asian, a woman in engineering...the list goes on.
And so it is in having moved here in New Zealand. Surprisingly, rather than admiring everyone and everything with excess zeal and trying fast to forget home--like I'd done in college--being here has only made me look introspectively. The new cultures, both kiwi and foreign, are a breath of fresh air; an interesting mix of unfamiliar, honest, politeness and friendliness in funny accents. I can relate to their reserved openness and their simplicity is refreshing. The few Americans around make me nostalgic for home, but at the same time, remind me of why I left. Amidst the tall-poppy kiwis and the proper English-people, they stick out like sore thumbs, nowhere to hide, and are like my mirrors. My discomfort of their blatant talk of money and their outright opinions (complaining, really), whether we want to hear it or not, keep me in check. Those were the habits so easy to fall into, but so easy to feel miserable over, and bad habits that I wanted to be rid of.
But all these new faces, as wonderful as they are, truly do make me miss home. In finding good new friends, especially like my friend, Linda, a German woman who's come to Wellington with her husband just as recently as I had arrived, and who I've started to spend nearly every weekend with. Though she's unique in her own special way, I'm reminded of the girly friendships that I spun so tightly in San Francisco. I'm glad that I've found someone like her here, but it only makes me miss my girls back home.
And then there's the landscape. So fresh and green, I almost swoon; so different from the parched landscape of California. Yet, I find myself tramping around as I always did, especially when I lived in San Diego and then San Francisco. This last Sunday, I went on a four hour walk from Johnsonville to Wellington City along the Northern Walkway, where I peaked up above hills and mountains, traversed a lush gorge, and hugged hillsides amidst dense forest. It was so beautiful and exotic, what with the korus about. Yet, despite my appreciation for the new landscape, I found myself reminiscing moments of the walks that my boyfriend and I ventured on throughout the San Francisco hills.
So, like the koru, I'm in a constant movement forward, while still remembering everything that's gotten me here...
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