In my last year at university, I took an independent study with an amazing, down-to-earth Anthropology professor. Near the end of the term, Professor H. looked at me across his desk and gave me perhaps the most practical advice a young Anthro student can get. He told me, “Now, you need to go there and sit around in coffeehouses and talk to real people.”
In my youthful vigor, I enthused about how interesting it would be to see what I’d studied in action. Professor Harrell stayed practical – he wished me well in my experiences but reminded me to be patient. “Realize, with most people you meet,” he said, “you are going to have the same conversations over and over and over.” I would quickly get bored of these, he warned. “You’ll find that most people ask you the same five questions.”
Most fun sign ever
It didn’t take me long to find out what he was talking about. Wherever I’ve lived the “five question rule” stands. Of course, the number five is arbitrary, but the repetitiveness of the questions is not. In Romania, people asked bemusedly, “Why are you living here?” In other words, why was an American girl living in their country voluntarily, when so many young Romanians wanted to leave and make money in America? Scots wanted to know what I thought of George W. Bush, as he was starting Iraq War II at the time. Americans invariably ask, “So, what do you do?” as soon as they meet you. It’s hard to accept that your job defines you in the US, when you’re under-employed, barely making rent and trying to follow your passion.
Of course, the questions are determined by how the locals perceive you. In New Zealand, I am a young white American woman. In many people’s eyes, that means I’m probably a tourist. Or on a working holiday for a year. Kiwi folks know all sorts of things about me – or think they do – as soon as I open my mouth. Until then, I could be a Pākeha New Zealander, a German backpacker, or an English immigrant. As soon as I open my mouth, however, I am clearly from somewhere in North America. The questions begin…
How are you enjoying your holiday?
L&P is World Famous
This is the first question I get asked at café counters or in shops. British folks get the benefit of the doubt that they might be living in New Zealand. Europeans might be on a yearlong working holiday. But Americans flummox people, perhaps because we don’t visit New Zealand in large numbers. And very few Americans come here to live.
Personally, I hate this question because I’m sick of being treated like a perennial tourist. I live here. It’s particularly irritating to get asked this for the fifth time by the same person in my own neighborhood. I hear it less and less now, as I find ways to head the conversation off into more interesting avenues.
Just what it should
When this question is asked politely at the counter, you are not supposed to take this as an opportunity to really discuss your experiences. This is polite conversation, akin to “How are you?” The expected response is to give a short, positive answer and then go away. When visiting American friends have launched enthusiastically into a conversation about their experiences, bemused café workers have smiled indulgently and wrapped up the conversation as soon as possible. Retail workers in New Zealand just don’t banter as freely as in the US. I really missed that when I first got here. Luckily, I think I’ve finally retooled so that I can banter in proper Kiwi style these days. Or perhaps I’m just finding friendlier people outside my neighborhood…
How do you like New Zealand?
Once I’ve made it clear that I live in New Zealand, my impressions of the place are still front and center. What do you think of our country? There is an expected range of possible answers to this. They range from, “I’m having a great time” to “You live in a beautiful country” to “I love it here.” I am not expected to point out things like the Internet service is tortoise-slow, houses have no insulation, or Auckland’s bus system stinks. I’ve learned to avoid getting into too much detail about my mixed impressions of the country, unless I’m talking to someone who’s lived abroad or is really asking for more.
100% Sheep
To be fair, New Zealand is a gorgeous place to live. And people here are determined to take advantage of that. Most folks get 4-5 weeks of vacation a year. Everyone seems to stop work at 5:30pm sharp, and folks guard their evening and weekend time assiduously as personal time. Can you imagine a place where your supervisor checks in to make sure you’re using your holiday allotment? The workaholic American lifestyle just received a bemused “why?” from most Kiwis.
But I think that the positive expectations exist because New Zealand has a case of Small Country Syndrome. Successful Kiwis abroad are described proudly as “punching above their weight.” There’s a passion for quoting per capita statistics that make NZ look good or talking about something that really “put New Zealand on the map.” You can’t blame Kiwis for the latter, as New Zealand literally gets left off numerous world maps because of its remote location. The rhetoric about Auckland is always that it needs to become more competitive with world-class cities like Sydney, New York or London. On snarky Kiwianarama, local bloggers point out that Kiwis need constant positive identity reinforcement “because, deep down, most Kiwis have a niggling fear that it might actually be a bit shit.”
Shearing Capital
This national pumping-up reaches absurd proportions when you notice how many small towns promote themselves as the _____________ Capitol of the World. That may be true of the places that are Green-lipped Mussel Capitol or Shearing Capitol of the world. But really, the world probably hasn’t really checked. Of course, I may be missing that subtle self-deprecating Kiwi sense of humor that leads to the beloved Kiwi soda – L&P – being advertised as “World Famous in New Zealand!”
Where are you from?
This one is common pretty much everywhere. But there is a particular reason for asking it this way. What’s really often being asked is, “What part of North America are you from?” or “Are you Canadian or American?” Most New Zealanders can immediately tell that I sound like people in American movies and TV. But most can’t tell the difference between Canucks and Yanks by accent. So they ask this perhaps in acknowledgment of how much it stinks to be asked if they’re from the bigger, louder, wealthier and more famous neighboring country. So, they give the Canadians a break by not just assuming they’re Americans. I gotta respect that.
Americans check "Other"
Occasionally, I get someone who’s mildly irritated that I say “the United States” as (s)he’s already made that assumption and is delving for more specific information. Answering “New Mexico” brings most people up short. Yep, Kiwis don’t know where it is any better than New Yorkers do. I told one Kiwi that asking me if that was “like Texas” is the same as asking him if New Zealand was “like Australia.” For those of you who don’t get it, refer back to that bit about bigger, louder neighbors…
This question is actually an institutionalized part of traveling within NZ. Most tourism businesses have to ask where you’re from for some kind of survey. All our Americans friends in town get a real kick out of saying “Auckland” and watching people’s eyebrows wiggle as they try to reconcile the American accent with that answer.
What brought you to New Zealand?
Ok, so I’m an American living in Auckland. Once that’s sorted, I’m still a cipher. Why the heck did I pick little, ends-of-the-earth New Zealand to live in? There are so few Americans living here that people really get curious about us. I wonder sometimes whether British folks or – on the other end of the assumption spectrum – Asian immigrants get asked this question as well. After all, people from England or Scotland might have met and married a Pākeha Kiwi working abroad in the Old Country. Or they could be joining family down here. Of course, Asians come here for college education, and Pacific Islanders arrive for the economic opportunities and to join the rest of their extended family living in South Auckland. Such are the stereotypes.
Deactivated by NZ?
Kiwis have a less virulent strain of that British mania for taking the piss out of Americans. We are famous for over-consuming, being violent, hating national health care, polluting the environment, having nuclear weapons, and creating American Idol. But probably our biggest sin is not knowing where New Zealand is. And not knowing anything about it, beyond sheep, hobbits, and Flight of the Conchords. Not that anyone would actually say that, but the frustration is there. We’re that cocky older brother with a job and a nice car who gets all the good toys but won’t introduce his little bro to his friends. If we were any closer geographically, we’d be Australia. (A real t-shirt slogan: “I support two teams: New Zealand and whoever is playing Australia.”)
Australia's scary...
Sometimes this makes me want to be able to answer this question with something like, “Bro! New Zealand has the best ___________ industry in the world, and so of course I came here to get a chance at that piece of the pie.” But that’s hardly true. I came for my partner’s job doing scientific research. I can’t find work here in my field, and I’m frustrated. But I am spending a good bit of time trying to learn all about New Zealand history, literature, cultures, food, flora, fauna and more. So, I hope I’m doing my part to acknowledge our bros from Down Under. No, not that Down Under! The other one with all the great birds and fern trees and the All Blacks!
Do you want to stay here for good?
NZ flag
Some people will ask how long I’m here for, but the implication is the same. It’s as if New Zealanders want to get to the bottom of things – are you someone worth knowing, or are you going to disappear in a few months? American friend Amy S. jokes that people want to know “am I worth getting to know or am I just here to bungee jump and pretend I’m a hobbit and swim with the dolphins before heading back to the land of massive consumption.”
This may be a result of having 4 million tourists a year in a country of 4 million. That’s gotta give someone a sense that their country is pretty amazing. Or it may be that most Kiwis don’t move around much, so they stick with the same lifelong friends. Perhaps it’s a response to the waves of immigrants from the Pacific Islands and Asia, clamoring to get residency. Possibly, folks are just looking for reinforcement that foreigners want to move here despite the fact that thousands of Kiwis emigrate for better work opportunities to Australia each year. American friend Sara points out that it may be the reverse – people are assuming we’re going back home because things are better there. The jury’s still out…
Giant Gumboot!
For awhile, I had a chip on my shoulder that this question was part of the same self-satisfied attitude that has Kiwis calling their country God’s Own Country or Godzone. I’ve never been in a country that spent so much time talking itself up. I mean, being American, I’ve heard plenty of citizens beating their chests and politicians spouting patriotic platitudes. But the “New Zealand message” is just constant, in a low-key and insistent way. I’ve met a number of people who seemed to think that of course I wanted to immigrate here. Can’t imagine why I wouldn’t! But it’s really an issue of where you’re at home, isn’t it? It’s fantastic that so many Kiwis love the place they call home! But when it feels like I must agree in order not to offend, I get wary. Years of study about nationalism have made me impatient with unreflective back patting in any country. And my work with refugees here reminds me that this can be a forbidding and lonely place for some.
Obviously, my reactions have been colored by my own struggles with learning to be at home in this beautiful but foreign country. Indeed it can be taxing to be polite but honest, especially when I’m homesick and in my second year of not being able to find skilled work. I attended an interview skills seminar last week. In a room full of skilled migrants from 6 continents, I got the distinct impression that none of us felt welcome in this job market where our foreign references mean little and lack of “New Zealand experience” is used as a way to exclude.
NZ equation
In actual fact, we don’t know exactly how long we will be here. The possibility that we haven’t got it all planned out seems to flummox people. I find that mildly entertaining, although I don’t know what to take from it. Were we planning to stay for good, the job situation might seem less oppressive. Or it might give us a reason to change our minds and go. But don’t worry, my friends Stateside – we do plan to come back home. And be positively infuriating about how awesome New Zealand is!
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I’ve reached my allotment of Five Questions. But really, there are a number of other things that people want to know. People are curious how long we’ve been here. As in the USA, they ask me what I do and mean what’s my job. That’s probably my least favorite question, of course. Folks want to know where we’ve visited in New Zealand. Folks follow this up with recommendations of other places to see, sometimes including places they’ve never seen themselves.
Obama's influence?
Politically interested folks ask what we think of Obama and why Americans are so opposed to national health care. American friends who are here permanently get asked how often they’ll go back home to visit and what their families think of them living so far away. One friend, who is here for a year, was asked if she missed home. I’ve never been asked that question, and I wish someone would. What a great start to a conversation about what home means! I may have to borrow that one myself. Perhaps the best question is what our friend Bryon from Utah got asked, “How many wives have you got?” I think the guy was joking…
I asked my Kiwi friend Kellie what questions she was asked when she got back from over a decade living in the UK. She said people asked her “Did you miss New Zealand?” and “Are you glad to be back?” and “What are you doing now?” There was very little interest in where she’d been or what she’d been doing. “It’s all about the future,” she says. In a way, I suppose that is very practical. And there’s something to be said for being content with what you have. But I can’t escape the feeling that there is something about New Zealand’s physical isolation that makes the population very inward looking. Perhaps there’s a national case of “arrogance with a low self-esteem problem.” In a way, I suspect that the questions Kiwis are asking me are also part of asking themselves what it means to be New Zealanders.
Honesty Box
As Professor H. wanted me to see, it’s not just what the five questions are. It’s not how you answer them or how you direct the conversation to avoid having them asked. It’s what those questions tell you about the people who ask them and what your answers tell you about yourself.
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Get more insight from fun signs around New Zealand at: NZ – Fun Signs by jocuteca.
Kiwi Crazy 