Most stories begin with "Once upon a time," but I'm not convinced that there is a point in time when stories begin.
Like for instance, I struggle with writing the beginning of my Aotearoa story.
Did it begin the day I arrived here? Because I remember that day...
It was 10 September 2011, the day after the opening ceremonies of the rugby world cup that Aotearoa was hosting. I had booked my flight less than a week before I flew (that's another story for another time), so it looked suspicious to the immigration officer. Add that to the fact that under occupation I had listed "religious worker" (that's when I learnt "pastor" goes down a lot better with immigration)...
It was a great welcome to Aotearoa, even with the extended immigration process I had to go through because of how suspicious my papers looked. Having gone through immigration in a few other places (that shall remain unnamed *ahem*), I was prepared to be interrogated like a criminal until I could prove myself innocent. Instead, the immigration officer apologised that he had to ask additional questions only because it was part of the process.
Talk about culture shock. I was starting to fall in love with Aotearoa.
On the other side of immigration, Chad Davenport, Doug, Danette and Allison Beisley, and Steve Ringelspaugh were there with leis in hand to welcome my arrival. They would quickly grow to become family in the months to come.
But my most vivid memory was of my arrival at Stefan and Kathrin Marks' home. I had never met them in person, and had only had a very brief conversation with Kathrin via Skype for my interview (through which the only thing I established was that 1) she hated me, then 2) wait, she's German, so she's just very direct, then 3) she's just doing her job in the interview). But they welcomed me into their home and almost immediately became big brother and sister to me.
I remember going out for a walk later that day where Stefan introduced me to all the various birds and greenery we spotted along the boardwalk close to their place. You know how they say every country has a distinct smell? I don't know if it's true for everyone, but Aotearoa's lush greenery has definitely become its distinct smell for me.
Not too far down that boardwalk, I caught a view of the city skyline and the body of water that separated us. It took my breath away in that even though I was still finding it hard to believe I had made it to Aotearoa, I was home.
We rounded up that evening having a meal together with the Beisleys and Felicity. Now, this is why I have a problem with knowing where my Aotearoa story truly begins, because it all started with the Beisleys back in 2008. But that's another story for another time...
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