North feeling a little stranded as Covid runs rampant in Auckland
Spirit of the north alive as community helps each other in lockdown, reports Wendyl Nissen.
In lockdown it is difficult not to focus on Auckland. For a start it is the gateway for us to the rest of the country. There is no way around Auckland if we want to head south so we in the north can begin to feel a little stranded when Covid runs rampant through the city.
We’re also not happy to find empty baches suddenly full of Aucklanders escaping lockdown and opening us up to infection.
And we’re very grumpy about being included with Auckland in level 4 while the rest of the country goes to level 3.
But here’s the thing about being in Northland, we are the lucky ones. As I’ve written before our health boards got together and organised vaccine availability early on, so much so that I heard some Aucklanders were considering popping up north to the walk-in clinics to get theirs.
We are also fiercely protective of our own and I fully support those who were keen to set up roadblocks right at the beginning of lockdown. We’ve never had a case of Covid in the north and that’s because there is a lot of pride and protection for this very special area we live in.
But mostly, we care about each other, especially the elderly.
My 88-year-old father still drives himself to the local Four Square in Opononi and to the doctor at Rawene. The man cannot step out of his car without someone offering to help him. Everywhere he turns there is someone offering to carry his shopping, help him into the shop, get him a cup of tea. He returns from these trips with a big grin on his face and a warm feeling knowing that although he is new to this community (he lived in Auckland until he was 83) people here have his back. I hear all about the lovely people who helped him and it’s hard not to feel a bit bad that I wasn’t with him being a dutiful daughter on these outings. But he’s a man who is fiercely independent so as long as he can do it on his own, I’m happy for him to have that.
Where I live, older men and women are called matua and whaea. It’s a mark of respect shown to them for which there is no Pakeha equivalent. Sometimes you will be called aunty or uncle which is the closest English can get.
The first time I was called aunty by someone in Kaikohe I was really chuffed.
“I’ve made it,” I told my husband. “I got called aunty by a young guy in town.”
“Did he realise you weren’t Maori?” he asked.
“I don’t think it matters,” I snapped back.
“I obviously have a good wairua.”
Behind those words — matua,
whaea, aunty and uncle — is a clear message that you are cared for, respected, included and looked after in your community, and I am very grateful for that.
I never felt that when I lived in Auckland. Even though I was born and bred there I never felt the warm acceptance that is given to people here.
And I’ve been spending time in lockdown feeling thankful for where I live and the people who make up my community.
As an ex-Aucklander I know that not everyone there has two homes or would be stupid enough to bring Covid to their bach.
I know that many Aucklanders are doing the heavy lifting for the country, working at the border and in the hospitals as essential workers.
They have endured more lockdowns for longer than any of us and it’s tough living in the city that is most likely to see Covid run rampant.
"We are also fiercely protective of our own and I fully support those who were keen to set up road blocks right at the beginning of lockdown."