Tāwhirimātea and Ranginui

Do you know what you were probably thinking this week? You were probably thinking, "I've really been missing those pictures Emma sometimes posts of the incredible view from her house." Well, you are in luck, because I have exactly that, right now. Don't you feel lucky?

At work, I have been teaching the children about ngā atua Māori (the Māori gods/guardians). I really love the way they look after different areas of the natural world, and it is a great connection with the way I like to teach the children that we can take care of the natural world. The concept of kaitiakitanga (guardianship) is a very important one in Māori culture, so I think it is no coincidence that their deities are presented in that role. I have always loved learning about different ways that people see meaning and purpose in the world around them, and I find myself naturally gravitating towards mindsets that involve cooperation, caring, and appreciation of what we have here on earth. The Māori worldview does this beautifully, in my opinion, with each atua inspiring us to notice and admire the wonderful things about their part of the natural world. My mind is wrapped up in these ideas during the day as I work to bring them to life for the children, as they are a fundamental part of their bicultural heritage as New Zealanders, but even once I go home, I still feel connected to these guardians who are generously looking out for everything around me.

Tāwhirimātea is the atua of wind, storms, clouds, etc. and Ranginui is the Sky Father. So when I look out at the amazing displays in the sky over Wellington, I find myself thanking Tāwhirimātea and Ranginui for these gifts. 

(Side note: I am not the only one who particularly likes Tāwhirimātea. The children find him much more physically present than many of the other atua, as you can feel his strong breath in the wind, especially in Wellington. It is not uncommon to be outside and hear a child's voice yelling, "Not so hard, Tāwhirimātea!" or "Tāwhirimātea, please blow away those clouds!" or "Emma, Tāwhirimātea blew sand in my eye!")

These two atua clearly put some of their best efforts into impressing me in particular, and what is truly amazing is their endless creativity! It is never the same twice, and the surprises and variations keep me fascinated and inspired. So well done, Ranginui and Tāwhirimātea!

Even a regular afternoon is beautiful.

This was one morning when the fog decided to hide in the valley instead of burning away when the sun came up. If you didn't know, wouldn't you think that that was a lake? The whole valley was submersed in a soupy mist, and it was amazing!

The thick moisture hung above the city on this particular morning, hovering enough above the horizon that the rising sun could streak through, lighting everything in gold and giving the distant hills a magical look. 

I can tell before I look out if it is like this, because as soon as I walk out of the dark bedroom into the lounge, I can see that everything has a golden hue and the light is coming from a strange angle. Then I rush to the window to see how low the cloud cut-off is that morning.

Sometimes the monochromatic skies can be every bit as alluring as the brightly coloured ones. 

I also love the contrast between bright sun and dark clouds. This one looks a bit like a competition between Tamanuiterā (the sun) and Tāwhirimātea (who would be blowing the clouds), with each one trying to take over the sky with his presence. Tamanuiterā won that day, but there are lots more chances for Tāwhirimātea.

Despite a somewhat decent knowledge of the actual makeup of clouds, I will never manage to rid myself of the impression that they would be feather-soft and delightfully springy to touch when they look like this.

I will have to do a proper post about ngā atua Māori in the near future. I am working on an extended exploration project with the children at the moment, of which they are a big part, so maybe when I'm finished, I'll do a post about both.

Clay Birds and Coincidences

I find coincidences quite wonderful, and am lucky enough to have charming ones spring into my life from time to time.

A few months ago, one of the moms I work with told me about how she walks past a "bird bank" on campus frequently. (Remember that I work for the university, so many of the parents work on campus). She explained that there is one really ugly part of the otherwise pretty campus where there is exposed, crumbling cement and bare clay and dirt. She didn't know why it had been left like that, but it had, and it was known for being ugly. But recently, someone had started putting small clay birds in the nooks and crevices and among the few plants that manage to grow there. She said they looked like they'd been made by children, and it was so charming how they were nestled in there, especially since the clay looked so natural in the earth-toned area.

I like to follow up on cool things that the parents tell me about, and as luck would have it, I was schedule to attend a Research Seminar just across the road from where she'd told me the bird bank was. So I asked my colleague to walk over with me to check it out.

This is what the bird bank looks like. Unfortunately, the birds actually blend in a bit too well for you to get the proper effect in a picture, but it does help you to understand how it is known as the ugly part of campus. The succulents are also a recent addition.

So, what's the coincidence? I'm glad you asked. Well... after walking over to the bird bank, we returned to the Research Seminar, and in our very next session, which was about scaffolding children's artistic skills, the lecturer said, "And now you will have the opportunity to participate in one of my current projects, which is using clay birds to recreate an unattractive part of campus and pull artwork into our university experience in a new way." WHAT?!?!? I could barely believe it! I just about jumped out of my seat in delight, much to the mortification of my colleague, who managed to be a grown-up about the whole thing. 

I made this sleeping clay swan, of which I have to say that I am very proud. I adore how swans sleep with their heads under their wings, and especially the sinuous way their necks bend in order to do so. I also love that black swans have rippled feathers that create an amazing ruffled look, which is what I tried to emulate with the patterning on the wings.

The lecturer promised to fire our creations, some of which were actually works of art (ECE teachers often have a strong creative streak, and some of them were truly talented). I was so very excited for this, and couldn't wait to see my very own bird in the bird bank!

So then, when Mom was here, I took her down to the bird bank, and there it was! My little slumbering swan! She looks very at home there, and I think she will enjoy it thoroughly!

This is another bird from my group (if I remember right) and I loved how it was nestled down into this plant!

Pretty fantastic, right? I randomly hear about a bird bank, and then actually manage to find it just minutes before finding out that I'll get to contribute a bird to it!

Now the perfect end to this story, and one that I was looking forward to, is the part where I go back to that parent and affirm our relationship by telling her that I really went and saw it, and that I actually have a bird in it now! Well... I went to do this, and the mom who I was 100% sure had told me about it said, "No, I've never heard of that." Great. So the universe gifts me a beautiful coincidence, and my memory whole-heartedly drops the ball. And I am mortified on so many levels that I can't remember who told me about this, because 1) I pride myself on having meaningful and individualized relationships with each parent, and yet I have confused two of them in a very basic way, and 2) I remember every word of the conversation (even the directions) because I found it so interesting, so how in the world was a person not attached to it? That shouldn't be how brains work! I haven't decided if I should start asking all the other moms if they told me about it or not, but I probably will have to, or resign myself to wondering about it for the rest of my life. Hopefully I can figure it out.

Despite this failure of memory, I am still thrilled with this series of events, and feel so lucky that this happened!

We have achieved Kiwi-dom

J and I got exciting news this week - our applications have been approved, so we are now, officially, NZ permanent residents! We are very excited, because this is really the last legal step to live here indefinitely. Permanent residents can vote, work any job, and live here forever, so many people stay permanent residents, rather than becoming citizens. At this stage, that is our plan as well.

We were on resident visas, which did not expire, but our right to leave the country and be guaranteed return did expire, so it was important to get all this sorted before we wanted to go on another trip. And now we have!

Who knows what the future will hold, and what other adventures might come our way, but at the moment, we are loving living here and would like to stay. It is a great feeling to know that we're secure in that now, and can always have NZ as a place to call home.

Cantonese Dinner at Harry's

While Mom was here, Harry was kind enough to invite us over for dinner. He cooked a three course Cantonese meal, consisting of dishes that his father and grandmother have taught him to cook. 

(Side note: It was that night that I learned that the word for something that comes from Hong Kong is Cantonese. I knew that about the language, but hadn't connected it with other things, and Mom and I were trying out various ridiculous things like Hong Kongian and Honginese before Harry gave us the correct word.)

Harry made stir fry gai lang (which he taught me is a sweet member of the brassica family, which also includes broccoli) with beef.

He also made carrot soup with green daikon (kind of like radish) and dumplings.

And his own "concoction" as he called it: tofu, lily flowers, garlic shoots, and chicken, with coriander liberally sprinkled on top.

It was a delicious dinner, full of unique flavours that we'd not had before, and an evening of wonderful company and good conversation.

Thanks, Harry!

P.S. As I was writing this, it snowed!! The flakes never stood a chance of even hitting the ground, let alone accumulating, but they hit our windows in slushy splats, and it was definitely snow! We haven't seen snow (except up in the mountains) since we moved to NZ, so it was very exciting!)