You might be surprised by who struggles to fit in

Iwas walking my dog in Newtown when I ran into a neighbour also walking his dog. Don’t Kiwis love their pets?

My neighbour’s dog had a strange name. Was she named after a Middle Eastern god? After all, the owner was a migrant from the region. No, apparently the kids named it after a certain biscuit that the dog look liked. A biscuit! Gotta love that laconic Kiwi sense of humour.

Next, I ran into an old friend who used to run a food business with her husband, all hours of the day. They started with nothing and built it up with that fantastic can-do Kiwi attitude. But get this, when she was asked to work as a translator – she grew up in China and was a fluent Cantonese speaker – she took on that as well. Typical Kiwi – not scared of hard yakka and doesn’t need a piece of paper to say she was qualified in something before excelling at it.

Then a taxi tooted and the driver waved. It was a mate who I used to play soccer with. Typical sports-mad Kiwis both of us. No matter how busy he was, he always found time to turn up to a game.

And he was an authority on the Bundesliga as he’d spent time in Germany with other Assyrian refugees before coming to New Zealand.

Though he wasn’t as much of a sports authority as a guy I know in one of the local dairies. Always telling me the latest cricket gossip. What is it about Kiwis and their bloody cricket? He’s been a loyal Black Caps supporter ever since he arrived from India.

When we got home from the walk there were two mothers handing out meals in plastic containers. Fundraising apparently. Typical Kiwi mums. Five kids between them, both have fulltime jobs, yet they still find the time to get up at sparrow’s fart to cook meals to raise money for the folks back home in Somalia.

Later that day I went to a very nice Kiwi barbecue in the western suburbs. I met this lovely English couple. He’s come out to head the New Zealand branch of a big company and loves the outdoors. But he’s having problem with unions at work as he’s trying to bring in English-style reforms. And his wife’s not too happy.

Reckons the schools don’t work the kids hard enough and spend far too much time on outdoor activities. The kids are loving it, but she worries about their academic success further down the track. Back in England the kids went to a very exclusive private school but apparently the ones here aren’t good enough.

I tried to explain that we’re an outdoor country and that it’s good for the kids to be swimming and hiking in summer, but she didn’t want to know. It was all academic results. I suspected she didn’t really understand Kiwi values. I wonder if we need to look at bringing in some sort of Kiwi values test for migrants from England?

Don’t get me wrong, most Brits here make great Kiwis and fit in perfectly.

But there are some, males mainly, who believe in a fundamentalist Protestant religion and a system that has treated women appallingly, called the British monarchy. There was this one guy called Henry who committed murderous domestic violence on two of his six wives. Do we really want people who support such fundamentalist extremism in our country?

And I worry about the attitudes some of our new British migrants have towards alcohol. Known back home as ‘‘lager louts’’, they are prone to getting extremely drunk at cricket and rugby games. Do we really want these people coming here when there are so many Kiwis capable of doing the same job themselves?

Just before the barbecue ended I met a very nice American couple. He had bought a large piece of land in the South Island but was worried about hikers and others using it. It was private land that he paid for so why should other people get to use it? I sighed.

Yet another migrant who didn’t understand Kiwi values. I talked about the Queen’s Chain and how Kiwis love the outdoors and feel they have a right to rivers, lakes and beaches even if the land next to it is privately owned.

He reckoned it sounded like communism. But he was very interested to find out I was a writer. ‘‘A writer eh? How much do you make?’’ he asked.

The entire barbecue went silent and everyone became most uncomfortable. He didn’t realise that New Zealanders never, under any circumstances, discuss salary. I took him inside and said, ‘‘you might behave like that in your own country, but don’t ever do that again here.’’

I believe New Zealand First has passed a remit giving a Kiwi values test to migrants. I don’t support it but if they insist, maybe a trial period, but just on US and British migrants, might be the way to go.

He’s been a loyal Black Caps supporter ever since he arrived from India.