NZ is changing, and so is the way we chit-chat

places they inhabit.

Icecream remains the Jewel of January, but

Tip Top has its work cut out for it with so many other competing treats to choose from. It’s great to see Ben and Jerry’s, Ka¯ piti and heaps of other wholesome brands in our daily scans of the freezers in coastal dairies.

Is the art of casual conversation under threat? As the engines of life slow during this season, there is more time to talk to each other. Whether it’s friends who have dropped in, relatives to entertain, or just the guy filling gas bottles at the petrol station, chit-chat is an important part of the social fibre of Aotearoa.

When it involves strangers and me, this aspect of summer horrifies my kids. They stand aside in embarrassment as I natter lightly to locals about everything from the weather and traffic to the time of the tides. I guess my kids’ time to contribute to this Kiwi custom will soon come.

But with stranger danger on the minds of both youth and their parents, and with social media giving rise to a climate of self-promotion, spontaneous connections with other Kiwis seem to happen less.

When they do, I notice a disturbing skills shortage. Modern conversations are more likely to circle back to one of the conversationalists’ experiences or ideas, rather than in a shared tango of interactions that should comprise a healthy chat.

There are many unwritten rules in the art of conversations – speak about oneself only to a point, turn the focus to others or the world around you, don’t reveal too much private information that makes others feel uncomfortable – but these norms are increasingly unknown or not respected.

Whether it is lack of understanding, confidence or curiosity I don’t know, but my sense is that when our world leaders and social media stars embody narcissism, it is all too easy for others to be self-possessed too.

Tearooms are finally extinct. I’ve watched these treasures of New Zealand’s past give way to our percolating coffee culture over the past 20 years as tearooms transform into cafes or sushi bars. The takeover is now complete: flat whites have replaced Earl Grey in every province I’ve visited.

In semi-rural areas, using cash is still commonplace. In the city, I can go for weeks without hearing the clink of coins or seeing a crisp $10 note. In the regions, there are many ferries, roadside shops, parking meters, and vendors that don’t offer e-banking, which is a nice blast from our past.

So, as I scavenge around the floor of my handbag for the last few coins, and wander up to the dairy or cafe for a Ka¯ piti icecream or a flat white, to have a random chat with a willing local – who hopefully is able to play by the old rules of small talk as we chat about the newest housing developments of her town – I reflect on a changing New Zealand in this most wonderful time of year.