Don’t be tight; say hello
Snobbish, rude and miserly with their money. Apparently Aucklanders have become so desensitised to the sight of homelessness around the city, they are unlikely to open their wallets, let alone their mouths or hearts, to people seeking a few coins for a cup of coffee or a sandwich.
That’s the view of Stephen Robertson, who has become known around Queenstown as the town’s first beggar since heading south three weeks ago.
Stephen says he has been inundated with kindness since skipping Sin City, he has received plenty of friendly chats, a tent and even a bicycle.
Admitting you’re a ‘‘bloody Aucklander’’ anywhere south of Rainbow’s End can be a risky business.
At the very least, you’re likely to get a raised eyebrow. More often you’ll receive a volley of only half-joking vitriol at being responsible for everything from the rising cost of housing to chaos in Venezuela.
For the half-a-million Auckland residents who grew up elsewhere, it’s hard to know whether to crack a joke about the Blues or defend your adopted home. This was my conundrum on a recent trip to visit the family in Palmerston North
Like clockwork, my parents would produce a glass of buttery chards or a crisp pinot grigio every day on the dot of 5pm. The only trouble was, it would invariably be served at room temperature.
After a few days of suffering in silence, and on a particularly warm day, I asked for some ice. ‘‘Bloody Aucklander,’’ Dad responded, shaking his head as he went to retrieve a couple of blocks from the freezer.
Even after eight years of living in the city, the label still rests a little uneasily. Don’t get me wrong, I love the multiculturalism of the place, the proximity to world-beating beaches, the magical maunga of the Waitakeres, the spicy seafood pad lao at the Ponsonby Food Court. It was good to remember that for many, this longing to belong is less of an issue than finding food and shelter for the night.
Taking heed of Stephen’s words, I’ve resolved to look homeless people in the eye and say hello, instead of awkwardly gazing anywhere but. Even if I am tight, there’s no need to be a snob.