The Kiwi has landed: Part 2

....and the stroy continues......
A long story, but how is it relevant to my time here in New Zealand? Well, the same thing happened to me here a few days ago. Once again cars were involved, and a strangers questions, but it wasn’t a new language that I realised had been a barrier; it was a collection of little things. Since arriving I have been getting used to all the small differences in comparison to Australia. A few examples -there are some very unusual traffic rules, plus if you have an accident the government pays for all of your health care but if you just want to visit a doctor because you are sick then you have to pay everything, it’s also up to you to decide whether to send in a tax return or not, and they call Australia “Aussie” and Australians “Aussies”. While these things are not cultural divides that are impossible to fathom, they do make me realise that this is a different country from Australia and things are not to be assumed or taken for granted. So once again, a spectator watching from the sidelines just waiting for his chance to get called up to the game. The call up recently came at a petrol station where there are no operators to take your money, it is all done by automated teller machines (more about that in Part 3 of this tale). This particular station was one of the places I dreaded. As there was no one to show me how to use the system, the first few times I tried to get fuel I ended up driving off in frustration and embarrassment and finding one of the old fashioned petrol stations with human operators. Having got the hang of this new system recently though, I was filling up my car while watching a young couple go through exactly the same motions as I did upon my first attempts. How could something so simple be so foreign I thought to myself? Upon catching my eye, the girl approached me and uncomfortably asked how it works and I duly told her the secret to winning the fight with the machines so she could get her fuel. Driving off, it was a moment where I realised I had crossed over from being the learner of everything Kiwi and had become enlightened enough to be a teacher. It doesn’t quite make me a local, but it sure gave me a renewed sense of belonging and strength.