Goodbye, farewell, I’ll see you again soon, my beautiful little New Zealand. I love you and you will always have a place in my heart. But right now, my heart aspires for bigger and slightly more exciting things. All the things that Melbourne entails. So, with this in mind, I pack my bags, bid my home country adieu, close my eyes and plunge into a whole new world.
Leading up to ‘The Big Day’:
Prior to my leaving NZ and arriving in Melbourne, I am living a pretty surreal existence. Bunking down at mum and dad’s, with the intention of ‘cleaning out my closet’ and tidying up the mess that is my life. I’ve quit my job, with the hopes of spending my days going through, throwing out, and packing up my entire 24 years. Hmmm. That was my intention, but realistically, what really happens, is I sit around a lot, drinking a lot of tea with my mum and sister (who is living a similar lifestyle to me right now). We go to the supermarket, cook, drink tea and generally have a good time. Mum goes off and teaches the odd yoga class, sis and I attend the odd yoga class; basically we’re living an A-List celeb lifestyle.
Three days to go:
Now the pressure is on. Freak out time! My closet is still overflowing, I’m adamant most of the mess in the room that used to be mine (and was taken over by my sister as a sewing room when I moved out) doesn’t belong to me, and I’m really freaking out. Every now and then I get a slight glimpse of sweet relief, when I imagine myself wandering aimlessly down Chapel Street, or sipping a ‘skinny’ latte (we call them ‘trim’, ‘skinny’ still makes me giggle) in one of those cute lanes tucked away in the city. But mostly I’m freaking out.
The night before:
Why am I doing this to myself? I’m leaving the safety nest my parents have built for me, to go and flail about on my own, in a different country, with no guidance whatsoever. Why? I have to keep reminding myself I actually want to do this, and that once I arrive all will be fine. Easier said than done.
D-Day:
I don’t want to go anymore. I’m a mess. Tears, tears and more tears. How can I leave my mum? I know I sound a bit pathetic, but really, come on, any self-respecting child wells up a little bit when thinking about the potential of never seeing their parents again. Okay, okay, I know that’s a little bit over-dramatic, but hey – no one said I couldn’t be dramatic. It’s in my genes. So I still can’t believe I actually have to leave now, I don’t want to get in the car, and don’t even get me started on saying goodbye to my cats! What will they do without me? (Realistically, they’ll probably continue life as normal, sunning themselves for 8 hours a day, sleeping for about 23, taking the very, very occasional stroll outside, and constantly asking for food.) I’m sure they’ll be fine. And me, I’ll suffer less allergies. Thanks. So yes, a lot of tears were shed upon waking, somehow getting through the day (I’m a big crier, and welled up at even the slightest mention of me leaving), and then we finally made it to the airport, and I was ready to go.
Welcome to Melbourne:
And what a great welcome it’s been. Man, everybody teases us Kiwi’s about how cold NZ is, about how much it rains – um, excuse me, have these people never been to Melbourne? I have never been as cold as I have been here, almost every night I’ve experienced torrential rain; in fact, we even had a mini-tornado I was told, in my first week here. Give NZ a break guys. I’m staying with a house full of Kiwi’s, so I forget that we actually sound a whole lot different to you guys, until I’m thrown into a group of Aussies and realise I’m the one with the accent! (To tell you the truth, I’ve always wanted to be the one with the accent.) After hanging out with a lot of Australians, and hearing a lot of hard-core Australian accents (have you noticed how differently we say things like ‘Grant’, ‘Tanya’, and ‘Plant’?) I was quite soothed by the sound of Taika Waititi’s voice last night, in an interview with him on TV regarding his newest film, Boy. Give me a good Maori accent any day, bro.
Seeing the Future:
So for now, I’m coasting along quite nicely here in my new abode. I’m trying hard not to hassle our one Australian-born flatmate about his accent, as I have to keep reminding myself – we’re on his turf now. I’d like to say thank you, Melbourne, for making my transition rather easy. You’ve given me rain, which I’m used to, I know what that is; you’ve given me cold (rather a bit more than I’m used to, but I was warned) and you’ve made me appreciate my good-old ‘koiwoi’ accent. Chur’ bro.
