Figure 1.--
|
Figure 1.-- |
Imagine having been at the same school since you were 7 years of age. A place where you’ve established a close group of friends, you have a fair idea of the staff who are ‘cool’ and those who aren’t and you’ve just experienced your first year of high school and loved every second of it. Now imagine being taken away from it all - 13,000 miles away from it to be
precise and you’re living my reality. At the tender age of 12 my parents chose to move our family to New Zealand, both for the experience and the lifestyle. I was miserable to say the least. No experience seemed worth leaving everyone I had ever known and
loved.
Upon arrival, my parents told me they had enrolled me at ‘Carmel College’--a catholic girl's school. They considered it to be similar to my school in
England. That was until they showed me the uniform. My uniform in England had been lovely - a navy skirt, jumper and socks with black shoes and a grey
striped shirt with a red tie. The ‘thing’ that lay before me was the summer uniform and consisted of a brown and white checked dress with bright red
buttons down the front. It was to be worn with brown sandals and a maroon jumper. The winter uniform was even worse and was commonly referred to as
‘the sack’. A grey/brown tunic with a maroon striped ‘McDonald’s’ like shirt, maroon jumper, red tie, brown stockings and laceup shoes. There was no way in hell I was wearing that.
Dressed in it the next day I silently sat outside the Head of Intermediate’s office waiting to be introduced to my new school life. In New Zealand instead of going straight into a college/high school from primary school there is an ‘in-between stage’ called intermediate. Carmel put me a year ahead of myself so I was in year eight, but the last term of year eight since the New Zealand school year runs from January - December, not September - July like in England.
To begin with I faced a few challenges of New Zealand school life because it was quite a bit different to my school in England. My form class in England
had consisted of 16 people - my one in New Zealand - 38 people! I hadn’t had a class this big ever in my life so it was hard to get used to the large
crowd in the room that seemed so small.
Then there was the language. I’d been at school nearly 3 weeks when I was offered a "lolly." I was expecting an ice-lolly, what I got was a piece of licorace. Turns out a ‘lolly’ is what in England we refer to as a sweet. Then there was the issue of
borrowing someone’s Tippex. "You want to borrow my what?" "The white pen on your desk - you use it to delete mistakes?" "Oh you mean my twink!" "Well no
but OK." And who could forget the timeless phrases used by Kiwis everywhere - "She’ll be right", "Good as gold and "Sweet as". This was the language I
had to decipher during my first few months in New Zealand as it was used by students and teachers alike.
My first term at Carmel is not one I remember well - not because it wasn’t memorable but because I never made the effort to make it so. My stubbornness told me that if I was miserable enough they’d take me home.
After a while I realised that it wasn’t going to happen and began to settle in.
Once in the college I was a lot happier since I had experienced the system of changing classes and teachers every lesson and was comfortable with it.
Lessons in New Zealand were so much livelier than they had ever been in England. There was constant variation in the lessons - everything from role plays to watching ‘The Simpsons’! I found lessons more enjoyable and fun
than I ever had in England and this in my opinion was a change for the better.
To understand the true ‘Kiwi’ spirit, one must take into account that they are all sports fanatics - especially when it comes to rugby - a five year
old child could name the entire all black squad without so much as the blink of an eye. Soon I was involved in wearing my lucky red socks in order to support Team New Zealand in The America’s Cup, learning the rules of rugby and all the local squads not to mention the All Blacks. This was a nation that had rugby fever! It was considered a sin to be out doing anything else
if the All Blacks were playing as the whole country shut down in order to watch the game. It was the hot topic of the week at school most weeks on which All Black was sexier so it paid to know at least something!
Although Carmel wasn’t even a quarter the size of my school in England it was 10 times better. As the years past I found myself swept away by the
spirit of the school and the ever supportive community that lay within it. One person’s sorrow became the whole schools. I don’t know whether this was
the catholic ethos playing a part but I just know that as time went on I loved Carmel more and more. The staff were good at their jobs and they let the students know that they cared. Of course there were students who chose not to take advantage of this but those who recognised the general concern and helpfulness of the staff benefited tremendously. I myself was one of
them.
I have a life ambition--to become a veterinarian. Unfortunately when it comes to maths and sciences I am hardly gifted. My strengths lie in the
arts so you can imagine the uphill struggle that faced me. The staff were incredible. They offered me every ounce of spare time they had to help me in the difficult areas of my demanding course throughout the year. My big exams were last year and I passed all of them because I knew people believed me--not just my parents but all the staff at Carmel. They knew of my
struggles with Chemistry, Physics and Maths so when my marks came through they asked me to come into school. Never in my life have I seen so many faces grinning with pride and joy and so many eyes glistening with tears. I
was hugged out after half an hour! The Carmel staff don’t have to care but they do. They don’t have to give up their free time and run clinics on their time and weekends - but they do. Ask them why. Many will reply simply ‘Because our reward is seeing caterpillars turn into butterflies.’ Carmel gave me so much over the 5 years I spent there.
I have a massive group of friends as well as a thousand memories that will stay with me forever. So ask me now whether moving to New Zealand was a good choice. I’d say it was a great choice. Apart from the fact that I can name every All Black, all the local rugby team squads, Team New Zealand and most of the
cricketers, it gave me the chance to experience the school life I had been missing out on and to live the life of pure happiness.
Hannah Coleman (aged 17)
