Grilled Cheese and Belonging

Today was the first clear, sunny day since my first few days in Dunedin - and how nice it was! I love blue skies!

The other highlight of my day was helping Samantha, my flatmate who is from China, make her first grilled cheese sandwich. She was going to microwave the cheese with the bread, but I said, "No, no, no. We're going to do this the proper way."

So we got out the frying pan and a stick of butter. We buttered up that white bread and let it sizzle, then melted some brie on top. It was a beautiful grilled cheese, if I do say so myself. Crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside. 

I also demonstrated for her how to properly eat an American grilled cheese: cut in half and then eaten using hands (not with a knife and fork). Unfortunately, we didn't have any tomato soup to go with it... But it was a fun afternoon. Samantha said she would teach me how to make Chinese dumplings, vegetarian style. Yum!! 

Some other highlights from this past week....

Seeing my first New Zealand beach, St. Claire Beach, which is just five kilometres from the city centre in Dunedin. There were some cute cafés and restaurants looking out on the water. By "some," I mean just three or four.

Beaches here, especially on the South Island, are practically clear of people - at least compared to the southern California beaches I've become accustomed to. Yes, it is winter, but still...

New Zealand only has 4.43 million people. California has 38.04.

Last Friday I took some time to stroll along George Street and the city centre. Just by myself, to observe and listen. Dunedin is one of New Zealand's oldest cities, settled by the Scottish sometime in the 1800s (hence the architectural influences). I have been told by some of the locals that Dunedin isn't representative of any other NZ town or city.

Here's a musician on George Street... I've seen tap dancers, too! Some of them children.

Ah, yes, the seagulls. I love them almost as much as the ducks and pigeons, although I admit they are sometimes just as rude as the ones I knew in California. But maybe they're just cranky on some days.... I reckon if I show them enough love, they can change!

But then again...this seagull in the back of the photo, with the glaring red eyes and frizzled hairdo, doesn't seem to share my enthusiasm...

I love how the crazy things just watch each other. In my head, I think of the seagulls squawking, "Hey, mate! Hey, mate!" in a Kiwi accent.

Starbucks is taking over the world. Help!

Then on Saturday night I had the privilege of watching an Okareka Dance Company performance: Mana Wahine. It was an all-female work.

Beautiful, powerful, empowering.

In the dance, there were many references to traditional Maori culture. I didn't understand the references, which reinforced the fact that I am a foreigner here. There is, at least right now, a cultural rift. I may speak the same language, but I didn't hear the stories about Papatūānuku as a child. I didn't grow up with a love for the native birds, associating their chirps, calls, and songs with home. 

Which begs the question, what is home? What is belonging? At what point, and under what conditions, does a traveller or immigrant become a Kiwi? Or become a part of any culture, for that matter?

......I don't know how my blog post just went from grilled cheese to the meaning of belonging....But, on that note, I'm going to make some dinner.

Cheers! :)