Sabbatical Musings

High Altar to Hops

Bird Nest Tree

I started climbing trees recently. I should really say that I am once again climbing trees for when I was a boy this was the most natural, normal thing to do. I did it all the time without thought or second guessing. All the boys and most of the girls would spend hours climbing and playing lofty games of tag (the kiwi version of 'it'). Of course some children love being up in trees so much that tree houses are built. Some parents will assist in the construction but for some reason climbing trees is not something adults do.

As I walked along the banks of the river that runs through Nelson I noticed a lovely tree with branches that bowed as though weeping to the ground. The first few metres are usually the hardest to get up most tress. Too few branches. But after that point there are often nicely spaced bows to ascend to by. At the base of this particular tree there was a seat and so mounting was made easy. As I reached up to the first hand hold I noticed glass bottles lodged in the cavity I intended to be my second foot placement. Clearly this would not be a first ascent. I guess on Friday nights up in these branches local youth hang out drinking their non-descript alco-pop beverages. A few simple moves and I was up, perched beneath a large, shady canopy. I had a wonderful 360 degree view from my vantage point. No one saw me and it is true that people rarely look up as they go about their everyday lives. Walkers, runners, their dogs and toddlers all passed by, some right below me, and not one of them knew I was there. How delightful it was to be secreted so close to others. I was hoping at least one person or perhaps a couple would sit on the bench beneath me. I imagined conversations, intimate and unknowing of my presence, discussing the challenges of parenting or lovers whispering heartfelt affections. No one came.

I named this tree Bird Nest Tree for the tangle of woven branches was as though an overexcited blackbird had taken up weaving. The large horizontal bows extending from the trunk allow for wide-ranging exploration and the many comfortable perches could accommodate a party (and probably do if the discarded bottles are anything to go by). It doesn't seem that popular with birds but bugs and spiders are evident. The river slid by quietly and I was happy to be aloft watching the world go by and the day stretching ahead. 

A Scavenging of Seagulls

Blue sky and bluer sea, dry brown hills and the city nestled behind. Sometimes Wellington is idyllic and on a clear day you can not only see the harbour heads across a millpond sea (above) from its south coast, but also the South Island and the looming mass of Mount Tapaue-o-Uenuku rising up through the summer haze of the seaward Kaikoura range. To top the moment we ate fresh fish and chips at the beach in the sunny early evening. This was distinctly Kiwi practice and so too were the gathering seagulls that know these outdoor dining spots well. They jostled for position around us, puffing their chests, driving each other away and perching to scavenge any stray scrap or hint of an offering (of which there were none). Strange how so far from the world of relief projects of DR Congo, this scene reminded me of information gathering surveys ahead of possible aid distributions. There are plenty of natural food options for these birds along this waterline, but just like white NGO vehicles on the shores of Lake Tanganika, the prospect of easy pickings is now the dietary preference if not staple.

Harbour City - Wellington

Home at The Loch - Kapiti

Debating Flags

Votes have been cast and counted in New Zealand’s flag referendum. The result, status quo – keep the existing flag. We are told it was done in a democratic way so why is the outcome so unsatisfactory to many?

The flag that was presented to the people of New Zealand as an alternative to the existing flag was a bit shit. Perhaps that is not the most eloquent way to make the point but it does sum up quite accurately one of the major aspects of the anti-new-flag-ism I have observed since my arrival here. I mean yes, it ticked a lot of the necessary boxes in terms of colours, connection with history and contemporary kiwi identity. But, and I am being serious here, it failed in some of the most basic elements of flag design to such an extent that you could argue it’s not a flag in the truest sense. Flags, or so I understand from vexillologists (study-of-flag-ers), should be recognisable, replicable and representative. The alternate flag was: recognisable in a hotchpotch kind of way; not easily replicable -  apparently the measure for this is that a small child can recreate it and quite frankly, the fern on the alternate flag was a bit too ‘squiggly’ (to use the technical term); and barely representative. Graphic designer friends of mine (one of whom is not even a Kiwi) were aggrieved that there was no one with design expertise on the flag-deciding panel and therefore the alternatives to the current flag were never going to be informed by principles of good design. Flags, like brands they say, should be simple, bold and stylish. Only ‘Red Peak’ (consisting of three triangles) met their criteria in the short list (an addition due to popular pressure but with a Canadian precedent).    

All the traditionalists said that the Union Jack was important part of their history and of this nation. Just as many disagreed with that view, like any self-respecting student of NZ history, who would equally see it as a colonial imposition and symbol of oppression. As a friend of mine pointed out over a quiet beer as the sun set on the day of the vote: give the new flag twenty years and this generation would be used to the new flag, probably like it and see it as having historical significance simply because they grew up with it. We get attached to many things we are familiar with and by all accounts the Canadians, who now have a flag which enjoys widespread popular support, were deeply divided during their flag debate and in the years after it came out in 1965. The reality is that everyone has their own opinion, unique taste and very different preferences which the full list of over 10,000 flag submissions proves. I like my revised version of the Flag of the United Tribes of New Zealand (pictured above) which was the first official national flag raised on in 1830. Unfortunately, the official long list of forty showed there were many better flags than the final alternative – ‘Silver Fern’ (black, white and blue). But like many other Kiwis, it’s just my opinion. And that is the beauty of democracy except that it often seems quite ugly and disappointing.   

We spent a lot of money (NZ$26 million) and a lot of time (hours of debate from pubs to parliament) on this flag referendum. People criticize the Prime Minister John Key for pushing it on New Zealanders and that it was a vanity project designed to establish his legacy. Well, maybe it was. But the fact is that for decades there has been a significant minority of Kiwis interested in and actively campaigning for a new flag. Now we have the same flag as before, which will still be confused with Australia’s, and no one is terribly happy about it. How very English. All this really means is that the Union Jack still has a place on the NZ flag as we whinge just like a pack of Poms. This brings me quite nicely to a few potted comments about democracy which was probably correctly touted by Winston Churchill as “the worst form of government, except for all the others.” Perhaps first having a referendum on whether people wanted a new flag or not (like the referendum on the electoral system) would have been a good idea before considering all the alternatives. The process itself made this a waste of money in the face more pressing needs in this country. It seems that the compromises required in democracy leave us very often with policies that no individual with common sense would ever concoct or agree to. In attempts to accommodate the many, we regularly compromise principles and practicality to cobble together bad, unworkable and sometimes unconscionable decisions that appeal to none, yet all agreed to by the headless leviathan that allegedly represents us. Hey, on the up side, at least no one died and democracy means I’m free to say this.