Kaia loves big spaces and roaming around her “Sumi and Topey’s house” and garden

Kaia has decided to rename Suma and Topa (her paternal grandparents) to “Sumi and Topey.” I guess “Suma” and “Topa” were not loving enough names, so she had to give these appointed names a slight revision to make it more sweet for herself. Of course, Chris’s parents have lapped this up and love their revised names by their granddaughter. Kaia has enjoyed spending lots of time in Topa’s study “working.” She takes his main big computer desk chair and relegates him to his tiny “guest” seat, and they sit at the desk together “working.” Kaia usually listens to Ms. Rachel or her favorite K-Pop song “Golden,” while Topa does his usual computer activities at her side. Then, when Kaia decides she gets bored, she runs out, puts on her sandals, and runs all around the garden, oftentimes with her Sumi in tow. She throws her big Bluey ball around and starts dancing all along the backyard lawn. She’s been keeping Sumi company while she hangs laundry up to dry on the line. Today, she started collecting all kinds of random tiny shells that lined the outside laundry area and declared she was discovering all kinds of interesting things that Sumi didn’t know existed in her own backyard!

For the last week or so, she keeps announcing how much she loves Sumi and Topey’s house. She says, “SUMI! I LOVE YOUR HOUSE! TOPEY! I LOVE YOUR HOUSE! I LOVE IT! I LOVE THE GARDEN!” And then she lovingly glances at both of them. Today, she looked up at me during breakfast and said, “Mama, I love this house. I don’t like our house.”

Yes, well, it is hard to compare a suburban four-bedroom, four-bath, two-story house with a two-car garage, plus a front and backyard that fully wraps around it, with a two-bedroom, two-bath apartment in a large high-rise building in the middle of a concrete jungle, especially for a child as young and small as her. For Pookster, our Manhattan apartment is her benchmark for “normal.” I am sure she runs up and down the stairs at Suma and Topa’s house and all around the large rooms thinking she’s sprinting around some palace, relatively speaking. And then, if it wasn’t enough, she gets access to Chris’s aunt/uncles’ homes that are also large in comparison to our humble abode, and she just thinks she’s in some paradise. Today, I gave her a tour of Chris’s dad’s older brother’s garden, showing her the various trees, having her sniff the star jasmines that were in full bloom, and showing her the apples growing on her second cousin’s tree. I had her tear off a couple curry leaves from their burgeoning curry leaf plant, and she sniffed the familiar and unique scent of citrusy, nutty, anisey, oniony, even piney aroma. She then grabbed a bunch of the curry leaves, ran back into the house, and announced loudly to multiple cousins that she had curry leaves in her hands!

Sumi, Topey, and I reassured her that her house is fun, too, and we all love it. She loves it, and she has all her favorite books, stuffed animals, toys, and other “friends” at home waiting for her there. She also has her own bathroom at home, which she doesn’t have here. She smiled, stopped saying she didn’t like our home, yet still kept repeating over and over how much she loves this house. Well, it’s hard to not love this house given the amount of space and privacy you can have. But I look at it like dessert or treats: it’s something you get once in a while at special times of the year, but you cannot have it all the time, otherwise you would just take it for granted and not appreciate it as much. Both Kaia and I are lucky to be able to share this home when we come back with Sumi, Topey, and their eldest son. I’m always happy every year we come back and we can enjoy this beautiful place together. It will always be one of Kaia’s happy places — how lucky that she gets a nice, warm, loving home in both the Northern and Southern Hemisphere.

Family dynamics and commentary at Christmas

Today, we spent Christmas day and Chris’s 44th birthday at his dad’s younger sister’s house. This sister has three daughters, all of whom have moved to different parts of the world (Perth, New Zealand, and Canada). From everything I’ve observed about the way this aunt and her husband have raised their kids and the relationship they all have with each other across five people, it’s probably one of the happiest, most healthy and functional family dynamics I’ve ever been exposed to on a semi-regularly basis (okay… semi-regular as in once a year for many, many hours at a time). The kids all keep in touch with their parents. They have a loving sibling relationship with one another and always speak favorably about each other. And they are all supportive of their parents.

As I was chatting with another aunt during lunch today, she was observing how helpful all three daughters (and even one of the daughters’ husbands) were, as they seemed to have something like an assembly line of “getting shit done” going: one daughter was gathering plates and silverware that were no longer being used, another was scraping off food scraps into a bin and arranging them into the dishwasher, and the third was wiping down the kitchen island and rearranging napkins, plates, and desserts into their places. This was all while their parents were consolidating food into smaller containers and organizing other snacks for guests. This aunt, who has two sons, told me that though she was happy her oldest was close and would be here when she hosted all of us over tomorrow on Boxing Day, she was still sad her youngest son in London plus his daughter could not be there). Because not only would that mean she could see both of them, but she’d have an extra set of hands to help since she’s getting older and more tired. I reassured her and told her I’d be happy to help — I don’t really look at it as “work” since it’s easier when more people pitch in.

This aunt kept peering over at her three nieces at work in the kitchen. “It’s just always so nice when all the kids are home. It’s more lively and fun, and they can help out with everything, as well!” She paused for a moment, then glanced over at Chris’s brother, who has infamously been known in the family to not really help out… with much at all, anywhere, and be totally oblivious to this fact (and perhaps even worse, not care). And then she added while continuing to look at him: “Well, it’s happy when most of the kids help out.”

That’s the thing about family: you can love them to bits, but they can truly annoy the fuck out of you regarding how unaware they are of their own deficiencies that negatively impact everyone around them. But I suppose that’s what family is all about: loving your family, blood-related or chosen, despite their imperfections… and maybe even sometimes because of their imperfections. In these cases, at least it provides some comic relief.

When socializing drains you

In the last couple months, a few different publications have been citing studies regarding what is the optimal amount of time to spend socializing at one time, whether that’s with a single friend, a few friends, or at a large event with friends or colleagues (or even strangers for networking/new relationships). On average, it’s been said that the upper limit of time is about three hours. Of course, some might last longer, and some are shorter, but everyone gets drained eventually, depending on the setting (new people/conflicts are harder), and individual energy levels during that given time. When I catch up with a friend or a group of friends, I usually try to allot about 2-3 hours for it. And usually by the time I’m done, assuming it’s not less than two hours, I usually feel like my cup has been “filled,” and I’ve had enough time to interact with them and get “caught up.” When the time is longer, it’s usually when that friend or I are also including lazy catch-up time, which would include time at someone’s house (so there’s no risk of keeping seats/tables away from others at a cafe/restaurant).

During the Christmas period when we’re in Melbourne, we’re usually at one of Chris’s relatives’ homes or his parents’ house for a family gathering for anywhere from three to four consecutive days. Each gathering lasts anywhere from 4.5-10 hours long. It’s his one time of the year to catch up with the majority of his relatives on his dad’s side. Because he doesn’t have family drama and genuinely likes these relatives, he looks forward to this every year and wants to maximize every single night by staying with everyone for as long as possible. I, on the other hand, get maxed out after several hours (hey, like the study says…) and just want to do my own thing or be away from the crowd and have a 1:1 conversation with someone far away from the screeching and high pitched laughter that prevents me from hearing anything, or just play with Pookster. I get along with everyone; I’ve had 1:1 conversations with every single person in his family, and the majority have been at least somewhat interesting and meaningful. But I don’t feel a need to be with all of them for six to ten hours at a time that many days in a row because I find it tiring. I do it because I am a good spouse and because he says he doesn’t want to be anywhere else for Christmas (which is also his birthday) ever. As they (never say): Happy husband, happy life. πŸ˜›

So, I do what almost everyone else other than him does during this period to get through it: I take little breaks and try to get away from everyone every few hours, and it pretty much goes unnoticed by everyone. And since Kaia’s been in the picture, I have an even bigger and better excuse to sneak away. But until the last few years, I didn’t actually realize other people were doing this, too, until I started really watching. His brother will leave a room and go off to another unoccupied room and doom scroll on his phone. Tonight, he asked if Kaia would be interested in taking the scooter out with him in the garden for a little ride (I have no idea if this actually happened, but I doubt it because after he asked me this, he disappeared for at least 30 minutes upstairs). Chris’s dad will disappear with Kaia to go anywhere from his study to his bedroom, where they have sat on his recliner seat and even had a snooze together. His aunts will immerse themselves in cleaning and reorganizing pantries and cupboards that don’t truly require immediate action to avoid active, in-depth conversation that is not small talk. A cousin will go off into the garden on her own and start peering at different trees and flowers. Another cousin will wander into rooms where the others are to look at photos on the walls or in frames for ages.

Chris’s aunt, who turned 71 yesterday, told me that sometimes, she just doesn’t want the big family gathering at their house every year because it’s a lot of work — planning, grocery list making, food prepping, cooking, reorganizing furniture and cleaning. And the older she gets, the more tired she feels even by what used to be the simplest tasks. But she says she does it because she knows how happy it makes all the cousins, and seeing them happy makes her happy. That’s also what this time of year is about — sacrificing for the happiness of others.

We all want togetherness, but in doses. So we find ways to do it, enjoy it, but also preserve ourselves. And at this time of year, there’s a lot of social pressure to socialize (how eloquent) and be with friends, colleagues, and family. Tomorrow, I may just take a break and go downward dog in the next room and see if anyone notices.

Matcha Kobo in Melbourne CBD

Every time we come back to San Francisco and Melbourne since they are our original homes, it’s always a trade-off on what places we love that we’ll revisit on a given trip versus new, interesting places that have opened that are on our list. Both city lists have hundreds of different food spots bookmarked, and so each outing always feels like a difficult choice. But I told Chris that the one new place I absolutely wanted to visit this trip was Matcha Kobo in Melbourne CBD. It opened around June of this year, and the reason it intrigued me so much was that this cafe is so serious about matcha that they actually grind their matcha leaves in-house. They have four ishu usu (stone mills) in the center of their large cafe. These were all imported from the Aichi Prefecture in Japan and cost $20,000 each; they are the only matcha stone mills in Australia. A small handful of these stone mills exist outside of Japan, so this is a true rarity to experience. The mills grind the tea leaves into matcha powder at a very slow pace, with each mill taking 24 hours to produce one kilogram of freshly ground matcha. One kilogram of match is enough to make about 300 cups of matcha. All the matcha used at the cafe is milled on-site, with fresh batches harvested twice daily.Once the powder runs out – that’s it. Stone-grinding fresh keeps the matcha from oxidizing, which means the flavor is fresher, smoother, and far lower in bitterness. On top of their expertly crafted drinks, they also have the most beautiful pastries that look like works of art, all under the direction of a very talented pastry chef of Asian decent who used to work for Adriana Zumbo Patisserie and Koko Black.

Given how particular and exacting this whole process is, plus the enormous cost of the stone mills, I just assumed the matcha would be quite expensive. But given all these intricacies and business costs, the matcha drinks cost just a tiny bit more than the average matcha or freshly made tea beverage you can order out. And with a stronger U.S. dollar against the Aussie dollar, it worked out to be quite a deal for us. We went to Matcha Kobo as our first stop in CBD today along with Chris’s parents, and for four freshly whisked and made matcha/hojicha drinks, a double scoop of vivid green matcha gelato, and a gorgeous, artfully made hojicha chestnut tart that was almost too pretty to eat, the total cost was $39.30 USD. It felt like such a bargain for such a fresh, delicious, gourmet experience.

The cafe itself is so airy and spacious — it’s supposed to seat 90 people and even has a traditional tatami mat seating area where you sit on the floor and are required to remove your shoes. It would be a very comfortable and relaxing place to have a catch up with a friend, while also enjoying amazing tea drinks and treats. I MUST come back. I want this to be an every-year visit!

20% Azelaic acid in the U.S. vs. Australia

I learned about azelaic acid for skincare a few years ago, as a low percentage of it was in a face toner I bought meant for helping with hyperpigmentation and fading sun spots. The toner didn’t do anything for my skin, so I stopped buying it. But the ingredient kept coming up in conversation with my esthetician, who highly recommended it for treating and preventing sun spots. Azelaic acid has been heavily researched in recent years and has been demonstrated to diminish skin blemishes and help fade sun spots and post-acne marks, refine skin’s surface, and help to fight inflammation.

In November when I went for a dermatology visit, the dermatologist suggested I use a 20 percent azelaic acid cream that would require a prescription. She warned me ahead of time that my insurance would unlikely cover it given it is for cosmetic reasons. So when I went to CVS just to ask how much it cost, the pharmacist looked up the product and actually laughed out loud as she responded, “A tube for a one month supply would be $648 (USD).” I gasped.

Wow. That was like paying rent. I told her that I’d pass on it, and I immediately started researching other ways to either source this product, or to get a slightly lower dosage. Chris suggested I look it up in Australia, as a quick Google search revealed that this product did not require a prescription there. So we went to Chemist Warehouse today, where I asked the pharmacist. He confirmed to me that it did not require a prescription here, but it was behind the counter. He grabbed a tube for me and said it was just one unit per customer (and then Chris went to request a second tube). The cost for this tube: $18.99 AUD ($12.54 USD). So, $648 vs. $12.54 it was. That is beyond crazy to me! The price wasn’t even remotely in the same ballpark! Well, it’s clear there are massive benefits to having access to behind-the-counter pharmacy items in two different countries — and especially outside of the U.S.

Watching your child while she’s unaware you’re watching

The first time we were able to observe Kaia without her knowing was at her first daycare/school, where we had in-class camera access throughout the school day. It was interesting to have that view into how she acts not just with other adults/figures of authority without us there, but also how she mingled with other children of various ages.

When I’m staying at Chris’s parents’ home, there are many times I’ve observed her when she hasn’t been aware. The easiest times are when she’s in the backyard, frolicking, running, and playing with Chris’s mom. She thinks I’m in the kitchen/lounge area cooking or doing work on my computer. And while I am usually doing those things, I often stop and just watch what she’s doing and how they interact with each other.

In the yard, they do things that you’d expect: they’re watering plants, picking up fallen leaves or twigs. Kaia is asking about flowers, and her Suma is quizzing her on colors and shapes. She’s also educating her on types of plants and what different leaves look like. I can hear them through the window discuss the maple leaves falling from their tree, and Kaia is giggling hysterically as she gathers a handful of fresh green maple leaves and starts throwing them about, causing Suma to get flustered and lightly scold her and tell her not to make too much of a mess. When Kaia gets bored of the flora education, she moves on and brings out her Bluey ball and demands that Suma kick the ball. When Suma doesn’t kick the ball hard enough or the “right way,” then Kaia gets mad and demands that she do it again and again and again… until it meets her “standard.”

I was watching them this morning, and I just felt this overwhelming feeling of happiness. I kept staring out at the garden, smiling at them. They were completely oblivious that they were being watched. It was almost like my heart was swelling to see how happy Kaia is to be spending time with her paternal grandma. The concept of “mudita” strikes again. She loves this house, the seemingly endless rooms, the stairs she can run up and down, the large bathrooms and the enormous space compared to our two-bed, two-bathroom Manhattan apartment. She loves seeing her Suma and Topa every day and knowing they will be there. Out of nowhere, she started yelling today, “Suma, I like your house! I LOVE YOUR HOUSE! I LOVE THIS HOUSE!”

I didn’t know that my heart could ever expand as much as it has being a mother. But I feel like it still hasn’t stopped expanding just yet. It feels like there is more love for her and our family to come.

Lack of comfort discussing the elimination of bodily wastes, and Poop and Fart Bingo games!

Since Kaia was born, Chris and I have had an ongoing discussion about her poops and pees. Pediatricians and all healthcare professionals recommend it for parents to do for their babies since it’s the only way to know what actually went in (because… what goes in must also come out!). This is especially crucial if you are breastfeeding and especially nursing, since with direct breastfeeding, there is no other way to truly measure what the baby consumed. We used to keep a paper log, then a Google spreadsheet log. And then once Kaia turned 14 months of age, we would just have a verbal back and forth about it throughout the day or week. For us, we’re just trying to be good parents and track our child’s inputs and outputs, so we don’t see this being peculiar at all. We never saw it as something we liked or didn’t like to discuss; for us, it seemed like the responsible parent thing to do to ensure our child’s good health.

One funny thing I’ve noticed over the last four years now is that Chris’s parents are very, very uncomfortable with conversations around… the elimination of bodily wastes. It doesn’t matter if it’s pooping, peeing, or farting — they immediately look awkward and embarrassed, and his dad usually tries his best to quickly divert the conversation in another direction. He would shift in his seat, look another way where no one was to avert eye contact, and act as though no poop/pee conversation were happening at all. A number of times, his mom has gotten exasperated by the constant bodily waste conversation that she has exclaimed in many different ways, “My goodness! So much talk about poo and pee all the time! Will you still be keeping tabs on this for Kaia when she’s in her teens and 20s?”

Chris’s and my parents’ generation obviously had very different newborn/child-rearing advice than Chris and I’ve had. Things change and evolve over time, and I think on the surface, they do recognize this and try to follow our lead with most things we do for Kaia. With the poop/pee talk, there’s zero chance they could try to get us to stop it even if they wanted to because we’ll do what we need to do to ensure our child is healthy, nourished, and having the appropriate outputs in a day. It’s more just amusing to me how some people are so uncomfortable with actions that need to be done by all of us every single day, multiple times a day. It’s true that none of us really needs an audience there when we’re on the toilet or farting. But with child rearing, the conversation does need to be had. It gets even more hilarious because Chris and I comment now on how big and stinky her poops can be (this is physical proof that she eats a varied, well-rounded diet!) as well as how long her pees are, and his parents think we’re a little crazy about this. We also tell them how she loves to see her poops and peer closely into the toilet bowl after. And she loves to get reactions from me yelling out in Chinese, “What a big poop!” Sometimes, she even insists that I come over to see it when Chris is in charge of wiping her and going through the hand-washing motion together.

I thought about his parents’ lack of comfort around all things toilet related when we were browsing a shop along Chapel Street in South Yarra today, and we came across these games called “Poop Bingo and “Fart Bingo.” The Bingos are geared for playing with kids, and they are exactly what you expect them to be: they show you caricatures of animals and their different types of poop, as well as… what may come out of an animal’s anus when they fart (apparently, those potential… things that can come out are not technically poop!). I jokingly suggested to Chris that we buy them to play with his parents, and he chuckled and thought it could be funny. The better (and cheaper) side of me decided not to get it because the amusement would be short-lived, and they might play it once or twice with us and then stop. That probably would not be the greatest ROI (return on investment) on a gift.

My once-a-year catch-up with an Instagram friend in Melbourne

After we returned from Wellington this afternoon, I went to go meet an Instagram friend for dinner at a popular Italian restaurant near Chris’s parents’ house. Chris’s parents had already been, and they said that an Italian client of Chris’s dad, originally from Rome, declared that it was one of the best Italian restaurants in the area. So that just added to my expectations for how good this place was going to be (not to mention that my Instagram friend is a huge foodie, so I figured she would have good judgment in choosing a spot!).

Usually, I am a bit wary of Italian restaurants because so many just have generic offerings, but given it’s a popular and “neutral” cuisine, the prices are always jacked up. This spot, Cucina & Co., was anything but generic. We shared a pear, rocket (arugula), and grana padano salad; eggplant parmigiana; spaghetti ai fruitti de mare (seafood spaghetti); the zucotta pizza (mashed pumpkin, buffalo mozzarella, sausage, thyme). We ended with a scoop each of gelato — she had chocolate while I had pistachio. And every single thing we got was just amazing. The pear and rocket salad was so fresh it seemed like everything was picked just before we ordered it; the spaghetti Napoli sauce was so addictive that I almost wanted to lick the plate, plus the seafood was perfectly cooked and fresh. The pizza was delicious as expected, but what shocked me the most was the eggplant parmigiana starter. Eggplant parmigiana has always felt hit or miss (mostly miss) to me. Most of the time, the eggplant layers are too thick, and the tomato sauce tastes bland. But this rendition had super thin layers of eggplant that pretty much just melted in your mouth. This was the best eggplant parmigiana I’d ever had in my life — I can say this for certain! And the ending of pistachio gelato was so rich, thick, and decadent: it tasted like loads of toasted and pureed pistachios mixed in with cream, milk, and sugar. All of that, plus two lemon and lime bitters drinks, and we spent only $45 USD each — what a bargain; that would never happen in New York City.

I met this Instagram friend during the pandemic when we each had our respective food channels on YouTube, and we were trying to build our Instagram presence. I messaged her out of the blue because I saw she was based in Melbourne, and we just started messaging on and off and clicked. We both love food (duh) and travel; she was married to a Sri Lankan while I was married to another brown guy with origins in India. πŸ™‚ She’s a year younger than me, and after we started chatting, she gave birth in June 2021 to her baby boy. Kaia was born six months after that. So it felt like even though we were from very different parts of the world leading different lives that we had a lot in common. Since December 2022 when we came back post-pandemic, we met up with our babies; then in December 2023, we met at a children’s play museum with our kids, but given it was a museum, it was hard to have a real adult conversation since we were chasing our kids around everywhere. In December 2024, we had a Greek dinner catch up, and now we’ve met again for the fourth year in a row, also sans kids. We both get along really well and have a lot of opinions in common. She’s the kind of friend who, if we lived closer to each other, I’d imagine myself seeing fairly regularly. And of course, it helps that she loves to eat (and cook)!

I love having a friend down here I can meet up with that is separate from Chris’s people. I also love that I’ve made a couple friends through Instagram over the years. I have another Instagram “friend” who is based in Sydney. She doesn’t get out of Sydney much, but she told me that if I’m ever up there for a side trip that she’d love to have a meal with me. If we go back to Sydney, I’d definitely want to take her up on her offer because she does all the “project” cooking that I wish I had more time to do!

Martinborough wine and pizza and Putangirua Pinnacles Scenic Reserve

Today, we drove about an hour northeast of Wellington to the famous Martinborough wine region of New Zealand. While globally, Marlborough in the South Island is renowned for its sauvignon blanc, which is the region’s most famous export (and it’s pretty darn delicious — it really is just as vibrant, zesty, and crisp as it is described to be!), Martinborough in the North Island is known for its pinot noir. But the region also produces delicious and notable chardonnay, sauvignon blanc, pinot gris, and syrah. We visited the Nga Waka Winery, where we tasted some local pinot noirs and chardonnays, and also enjoyed their Napoletana style “Roving Pizza.”

We chose their pizza special of the day, which was mortadella, fior di latte mozzarella (‘flower of the milk” variety that is made using cow’s milk in the same style as buffalo mozzarella), crushed pistachios, lots of garlic, and fresh basil. We pretty much inhaled that pizza — it had the perfect crust, perfect cheese, a ton of intense garlic which I loved, and almost had an addictive quality. When I have pizzas like this that are unquestionably incredible and perfect, it always reminds me of how people love to make absolute statements like, “the best pizza in the world is in New York/New Jersey/Connecticut/Italy.” I think if those people had this pizza at Nga Waka Winery that they would be lying if they said they could get better pizza in any of those places than this. I left this winery wondering if we’d have even just an “okay” level meal while in New Zealand this time around, and so far after five out of six days, i would say that the answer to that is negative.

After our tasting and pizza/calamari lunch, we headed towards Putangirua Pinnacles Scenic Reserve for a hike. Putangirua Pinnacles are some of the best earth pillar formations in New Zealand. The last time we saw earth pillar formations, also known as hoodoos, was at Bryce Canyon National Park in Utah, back in the U.S. Bryce Canyon is known for having the largest collection of hoodoos in the world; this scenic reserve would not have the largest collection or the tallest hoodoos, but they’d still be fascinating to visit, and we’d also get some exercise on the way there! The history behind these hoodoos is that about seven million years ago, the Aorangi Range was an island. As the mountains eroded, gravel was washed down to the coast, where they formed a sedimentary layer. Over the last 120,000 years, the Putangirua Stream exposed this ancient layer of gravel to the erosive forces of rain and floods. Some of the sediments stayed concreted together, while others washed away. The result is the Putangirua Pinnacles, often called “an amazing collection of hoodoos.” This area was used as a filming location for the “Paths of the Dead” scene in Return of the King, the third movie in the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Somehow, we managed to get Kaia to hike the entire two-hour round-trip hike without much whining and whinging at all. The only times she had to be carried by Chris were when we had to cross little streams on rocks, and she was afraid she would fall in. She did amazingly well, and even when she stumbled a few times and fell, she still kept soldiering on, despite a lot of uneven terrain and a lot of uphill steps and climbing. We were so proud of her when we all made it up to the top, and even more so when she went all the way down and still did it independently without demanding.to stop and be carried.

This is our third time to New Zealand together, and I felt a little sad as we came to the end of today, which is our last full day here before we fly back to Melbourne tomorrow afternoon. New Zealand is this beautiful country made of volcanic islands that seems like there’s always so much to see and so little time. But I guess that just means that there is always next time. And since I paid the $100 NZD conservation fee (Chris and Pookster didn’t have to pay since they have Australian passports) on top of my nominal ETA fee, which lasts two years, maybe we should come back again soon!

Berry picking continued, plus kiwi hospitality and friendliness

We drove up from Wellington towards Palmerston North today. It’s a city that has history within Chris’s family since his uncle went to college there (he studied food technology; I clearly went on the wrong educational path…). And during that time, Chris’s dad visited him and did some physical labor I had no idea about (and would be hard to imagine if you knew him as he is today!) in order to fund his travels. For his first day, he tried to carry hay barrels and quit after one shift (it was physically grueling and intense, to say the least). Then, he proceeded to spend about six weeks, six days a week, about eight hours a day, picking strawberries. I cannot imagine Chris’s dad picking fruit all day, any day — ever!

Since Chris’s cousin’s husband is originally from Palmerston North, Chris asked him for suggestions on what to do. He pointed us to the Levin Adventure Park, a humongous outdoor playground with play areas for kids of multiple age ranges, and could even keep adults (like me!) entertained. The space was so well appointed that it even had clean public restrooms that were attended to regularly, plus an indoor picnicking area in the event of inclement weather.

Chris’s cousin’s husband also suggested we look into blueberry farms, since the area was known for them, and we were coming at peak blueberry season. So amazingly, Chris actually took us to a blueberry farm for pick-your-own! He has always been anti fruit picking (e.g. “Why am I paying to pick? It’s like I am paying to do work!!”), but he said that this was not apple picking (which he absolutely detests because in the Northeast of the U.S. once fall comes, this is what every family seems to do), and if we were going to do some fruit picking, it better be something as good as berries and in a place as beautiful as New Zealand. So, I suppose those are all fair points to make. When we arrived at the farm, Kaia was napping and very unhappy to be woken up. We plopped her on a chair overlooking the blueberry shrubs and said if she wanted to join us, she could. It took all of five minutes for her to ask to enter the picking area. Here, the owners said we could taste but “no free lunches,” so unfortunately for Kaia, she was blocked from tasting as much as she wanted. But she still enjoyed the experience and loved picking every single blueberry and happily dropping them into our bucket.

When the time came to weigh the blueberries and pay, I realized that credit card would not be accepted, and so Chris ended up driving about five minutes away to find the nearest ATM. When I explained this to the owner when I asked if she could hold my bucket of blueberries, she asked where Chris had gone, she looked at me as though I were crazy. Knowing we traveled all the way from New York to come here, she told me, “What?! No! That’s ridiculous – just for less than a kilo of blueberries?! That drive isn’t worth it!” And then she tried to tell me I could have almost a kilo of blueberries we picked for free!

“Ohmigosh — please, no, no, no!” I exclaimed to her, equally shocked by her generosity and kind gesture. “My husband already left to find an ATM. Plus, there is no way I am going to be the annoying American who stole blueberries from your farm!” She smiled at this.

While we waited for Chris to come back, we had some conversation, discussed the farm, her bed and breakfast right behind. She even entertained Kaia with puzzles and asking her about herself. It was really sweet, and I could just tell she genuinely enjoyed interacting with Kaia and must love kids. These are the types of interactions you tend to get overseas, when you’re not in the U.S., but you’re in small towns and in places where people are genuinely well meaning, warm, and kind hearted. New Zealanders/kiwis are known for their friendliness, and even though I didn’t take her up on her offer to get free blueberries, I truly appreciated the generosity and kindness she extended to us.

I always get a little sad when people are so distrustful. Of course I am old enough now to understand where those sentiments stem from. But in all the times I’ve traveled, 9.5 times out ten, I am greeted by warmth and kindness from total strangers. Traveling has made me more positive about the world even when things back home feel really like they are crumbling. These little moments are times I will always remember.