That’s It – I’m Moving to New Zealand!

Three weeks ago, one of my articles started getting a lot more views: The Best Place to Live in New Zealand. Can anyone think what could have happened three weeks ago to warrant a surge of interest in living in New Zealand?

A similar thing happened after the Brexit vote. New Zealand Citizenship vs. Permanent Residency became one of my most-viewed posts.

I wonder how many people will actually end up emigrating as a direct result of either Trump of Brexit. Emigrating takes a lot of courage, even if you have a job waiting for you, like my dad did. I must say, though, I’m glad I already live in New Zealand.

I wasn’t always, but this annus horribilis has made me grateful for what I have.

On a personal level, 2016 has been a pretty good year. It’s the year I snatched my life back from depression’s thieving fingers, finally finishing my novel and finding the courage to get up on stage again. Not to mention the courage to socialise.

On a global level, however, not so much. From the Syrian refugee crisis to –

Actually, you know what, I’m not going to list everything. It’s too disheartening and you’ve heard it all before. New Zealand is a very good place to be right now. Even with the earthquakes.

Yes, even with the earthquakes. And I know that’s easy for me to say, living in Hamilton. We felt that one long, scary tremor, but our lives haven’t been disrupted. What I mean is… well, I’m better off paraphrasing the sentiments of a few of my friends on Facebook: At least New Zealanders aren’t battling each other – just Mother Nature.

New Zealand was recently ranked as the 7^th safest country in the world by the World Economic Forum. (The UK was 63^rd; the US 73^rd.) It was ranked as the 4^th safest country in the world on the 2016 Global Peace Index. (The UK was 47^th; the US 103^rd.) And it always appears on lists of the best places you could hope to be in the event of World War III!

Our biggest threats are earthquakes and volcanoes. Sometimes, being tucked far away from everything is good thing.

New Zealand is also arguably one of the best democracies in the world. Having MMP, or Mixed Member Proportional, as a voting system means that everyone’s vote actually counts. Everyone’s vote has equal power, and a vote for a party like the Greens isn’t wasted.

With MMP, it’s rare for a single party to be able to rule without having to form a coalition with a minor party. (Although, of course, that’s exactly what we have now.) It’s a good defence against extremism. Only three other countries have MMP: Romania, Lesotho and Germany. (Germany seems to have learned its lesson regarding extremism, even if the rest of the world hasn’t.)

New Zealand had a referendum over whether to keep MMP in 2011, and voted to keep it by a significant margin. I, myself, have little to no memory of the referendum, which I’ve just realised is strange, seeing as I turned eighteen in 2009, and should therefore have voted in it.

Ah.

I’ve just realised that 2011 was the deepest, blackest year of my depression. I spent a significant portion of that year scared to leave my room, wrapped in a blanket, trying desperately to blot out not only the world, but my own wretched thoughts. That probably explains it.

Where was I?

Oh, yes.

New Zealand good. Kiwi spirit and all that.

No, but seriously. I’m glad to be living here.

Well That Was Scary

I’d never felt an earthquake before. We were just about to go to sleep when the bed started juddering. At first I thought Tim was wriggling about, but it didn’t stop. Then the door started swinging back and forth, back and forth, shrieking like a poltergeist. We looked at each other.

It dawned on us.

By now the bed was swaying, but I was almost too freaked out to leave it. We stumbled into the lounge. The floor was dancing about; I was scared the walls would fall in. Tim said he felt like he was nauseous and I agreed. That or very drunk.

We wondered what to do. It wasn’t stopping. Should we get under the table, or into the cupboard, or just leave the flat entirely? By the time we’d decided it would probably be best to get outside and make for the big, open park across the road, the shaking stopped.

Had it stopped? We had trouble telling.

Yes, it had stopped.

We immediately turned on Tim’s laptop and went to geonet.org: there had been a severe earthquake near Christchurch.

So severe we’d felt it all the way up in Hamilton.

Memories of the 2011 Christchurch earthquake churned in our stomachs. One hundred and eighty-five people had died in that one.

Our next port of call was Facebook. Everyone had felt it. People up in Auckland had felt it. Our friends in Christchurch were okay. Our friends in Wellington were okay, but there was damage. I found myself breathing a little easier, but we knew there’d be aftershocks.

We decided to get dressed and sleep in our clothes, just in case. I made sure my mobile phone and precious notebook were right next to me. We told each other, “I love you,” with even more fervency than usual. In the end, we felt no aftershocks. Still, getting to sleep was hard.

In the morning, the first thing we did was check the news. Two people had died. Quakes had continued up and down the country. High school exams disrupted; houses destroyed; roads blocked. People have been told to stay clear of the Wellington CBD.

Wow. Small-scale earthquakes happen all the time in New Zealand. My mum’s felt a few. Until last night, I was jealous I’d never felt any. Fifteen years living in New Zealand and I’d never felt the slightest tremor. I’d been in a few earthquake simulators at museums – enjoyed going in them in fact… but now…

I hope it’s not a sign of worse to come.

Christchurch is still recovering from the last one.