Seeking Whānau in Kiwi Country My husband stares at me in disbelief, our 6-year old fast asleep on his arm. 'Seriously Karin, we flew halfway across the world and you've no idea where we're going?' It's past midnight and I just told the immigration officer that I don't have an address or even a phone number in New Zealand. 'Rob is picking us up', I reassure him. 'Do you know what Rob looks like?', my husband continues while entering Arrivals. 'No, but I suppose I'll recognize him.' Immediately a familiar face emerges from the crowd. Without hesitation, I walk across and hug the stranger in shorts and flip flops. Smiling, I introduce my family to my first cousin Rob. Finding Solace in Similarity In the early '50's, many Dutch farmer families emigrated to New Zealand, in search of greener pastures. My Dad, only seventeen at the time, waved goodbye to four of his siblings knowing they might never see each other again. When my father passes away sixty-seven years later, I'm gripped by the urge to visit his last surviving sibling, Aunt Nel. Two weeks after his funeral, we land at AKL. The next morning, we ascent Maungauika/North Head for a bird's-eye view of the Coastal Classic. We soak up the sight of blurry white triangles passing below, phantoms floating over dazzling blues. Any jetlag is swept from our heads. Afterwards, Rob drops us at his mother's house. My other cousin Linda welcomes us, she's travelled up to Auckland for the occassion. Then, a 86-year old lady appears from the kitchen. I'm stunned by the similarity, this is the female version of Dad. I listen to the familiar melody of her voice and I recognize the way she hides her face when laughing. Together, we cry over the loss of her little brother. Feeling the Strength of Family Ties My cousin John (Aunt Nel has five children) invites us to Matapouri Bay. We stroll pristine beaches and after a grueling climb, we take a divine dip in the Mermaid Pool. On the way back, my timid 4-year old rides piggyback on John without reserve. Our next stop is Hamilton, where cousin Linda expects us. Snaking our way through the Waipoua Kauri Forest, we marvel at the ancient giants standing tall. It's dinnertime when we reach the capital of the Waikato region and Linda serves a steaming spaghetti bolognaise, my kids's favourite. She's also converted her downstairs into two guestrooms. I'm overwhelmed by the unconstrained hospitality of people I've never met. Understanding Habits and Heritage After an exhilarating hike to the world's most beautiful beach, Te Whanganui-a-hei (Cathedral Cove), we press on to uncover more family ties. Our destination is the Coromandel, a rustic, unspoiled peninsula of the North Island. It's here where my cousin Tom chose to settle, on a mountain ridge with a dramatic 360° view to match. Startled by Tom's uncanny resemblance to my Dutch uncle, I follow him in. There, in the middle of the room, sits a leather armchair, an exact replica of my Dad's favourite seat. 'It was our Uncle Jan's', Tom explains. I immediately envision our uncle relaxing in his chair, while 18,000 kilometres away, his brother is doing the same. It's a happy thought. That evening, we're submerged in Māori culture, attending a traditional Kapa Haka. The local school is competing in the Nationals and this is their dress rehearsal. I'm enchanted by Poi (rhythmic swinging of balls attached to cords) and fascinated by the glares and fierce foot stamping of the Haka. The phenomenal performance is a celebration of Polynesian heritage and gives us a deeper understanding of our host country. Bittersweet New Zealand We spend our last evening at Aunt Nel's. After a hearty homecooked meal, we wave goodbye knowing we might never see each other again. But despite the geographic separation, our bond is undeniable. In 2,5 weeks, I've experienced the full force of New Zealand: its rugged nature, the kindhearted people and its colourful heritage. I came seeking whānau (family) and found a profound connection to this elemental land. When taking off for AMS, I leave a piece of me behind.