Letter to Students 29 September 2009

Dear Reader

Letter 2.

It is late Tuesday morning, and I have just returned from a walk around the garden.  It is amazing how it is true that life is all about attitude, and 90% of what happens to us is the attitude we have.  When writing my first letter of the day, I saw the weather as dismal, but having walked in the falling rain, I noted the red, tinsel like flowers appearing on the pohutakawa tree, a tree that graced us with its red mantle every year Han and I were together.  The exception to this was last year, when no flowers appeared, and maybe the gods were telling us something.  Pohutakawa trees usually only flower at Christmas, but ours had a sprinkling of flowers all year round, and this was seen as a sign that the spirit of the land was rich and happy.  Just earlier, I delighted, therefore, in seeing the tree about to bear a full bloom of colour for this year as I glanced up through the rain, traces of red all over the tree.  The kowhai trees are in full bloom, their yellow bells heralding spring. I will miss walking around the garden which Han and I created, the beech trees forming a glade through which you walk down to the pond.  I noticed the small red flower buds appearing on the majestic branches of this native beech tree, and remembered how proud Han was when the small trees grew to form a seemingly small forest which was his dream.  When we first visited Glenorchy, we discovered a place called Paradise, and we fell in love with the beech trees which stand guardian in this magical part of the world. I understand how Han wants to keep our special slice of paradise, but leaving it for me is such a gut wrench, as it was I who first discovered the land.  However, he has carefully crafted the garden, and I know he will be a wonderful custodian of it.  After all, we are only custodians of all we have for a very short time.  I am having to get used to relinquishing it a little earlier than planned.  I always said that they would carry me out of this home in a box, but it will have to be from the cottage now!

However, I am not going to get maudlin as there is so much over which to rejoice.  Two weekends ago, I headed through to Hawea, visiting my daughter Suny, her partner Nathan, and my two special grandchildren.  I left early on Friday and it was good to leave the rain which drenched Dunedin, and enjoy a clear blue sky as I wended my way along the open roads to Central Otago.  I took the Pigroot, travelling west from Palmerston, not my usual route, but I travelled this road when I took my sister and my father to Dansey’s Pass as a special treat for Dad’s 75^th birthday, five years ago.  It was such a special trip down memory lane as my father had had many happy holidays in the Kyeburn area, not far from the hotel in which we stayed, and we stopped at the house in which Dad had spent so many happy days.  His memories were still so vivid, and staying a night in the Dansey’s Pass hotel was one of the best times spent, the three of us relishing what turned out to be the last holiday we had together. I find it hard to believe that I am the only one still alive, five years on. The gouged limestone cliffs I glimpsed on my way home brought back such vivid memories of family picnics in the area, travelling there on Sundays to have cups of tea and homemade cake on a blanket by the river.  So often on a Sunday, Vicki and I were given a choice of where we wanted to go, and I always opted for the coast, while Vicki chose inland. It is interesting that I have always lived by the sea, and Vicki in the inner suburbs.

After the trip down memory lane, reminiscing alone as I sped along, I saw rain sweeping up the valley as I approached Cromwell.  This town was bathed in sunshine, but the heavy grey sky was fast encroaching to wipe the brightness from the day.  Hu Chen’s belief that arriving in a town when it is raining brings luck should mean that I am extremely lucky, as arriving in Hawea I was greeted by rain yet again!  I love seeing my family and I loved snuggling up in bed with my three year old granddaughter Indi.  Unfortunately, she had a very restless night, and when she wasn’t awake, her wee brother woke me up, although his parents didn’t stir to pick him up.  Moshe must have known as after a whimper, he went back to sleep. If only I could have had that luxury!  However, I am not complaining, as it was such a pleasant catch up.  Indi and I have such a close bond, and whenever I leave she always says, “you will lose my cuddles, Oma Shazza,” and indeed I do! After buying some bagels, salmon and cream cheese in Wanaka, which reminded me of Sundays in London, we ate a leisurely lunch at their beautiful home before saying our goodbyes. I headed off with a heavy heart, as I always do when I leave family, but travelling through the Cardrona Valley, passing cyclists in a race, thinking of becoming fitter, I focused on the present and became absorbed in the scenery around me.  I wanted to stop and record everything, but this is impossible on the treacherous Crown range, where a false move could have you plunging over a ridge to your death.  I remember, as a naïve, trusting nineteen year-old, clutching onto the jacket of my boyfriend, as he negotiated the windy Crown range which leads to Queenstown on a motorbike in the depths of winter, when snow lay thick on the ground.  We were typical of bullet-proof youth, and lucky enough to survive the slippery conditions.  Looking back, I don’t remember being scared, but I certainly wouldn’t do it now!  My boyfriend of the time, five years older, was in charge, and I had total faith in his ability to deliver me safely to our destination.  I can’t even remember where we ended up, nor why we went on holiday at such a bitterly cold time of year.  The reason is lost in the mist of time, and it can happily stay there. 

There was no snow to threaten my existence this time, and I wasn’t foolhardy enough to stop and write down impressions of the scenery.  The skies began to clear, and after passing through Queenstown, I took the all too familiar road along Lake Wakatipu to the township of Glenorchy, forty kilometres away. This road is also not one for the faint hearted, but like our Portobello Road, it is easy if you know it well.  However, you must never be complacent as some poor souls have found out to their detriment. Crosses are testimony to their moment of carelessness, or to a momentary loss of concentration, and I was determined not to be another statistic.  The sun shone for me here, and the majestic mountains thrusting out of the clear, aqua water made me feel so small, so insignificant, assuring me that this, indeed, there is so much more that is more powerful than I! Glenorchy is the settlement where Han and I used to go to retreat from the rigours of life, a haven of calm where we drank too much gin and wine, and read gossip magazines in between walks around the lake and golf.  I stopped beside the lake where willow trees were again displaying their rusty gold, and remembered the first poem Han wrote to me on our first trip to this region.  The willows beckoned me to sit under them, and reflect on life as I looked into the clear, still water.  The threads of gold touched my shoulders, telling me that all would be well, passing on their wisdom and giving me a sense of peace.  Arriving at our friend’s home in Glenorchy, Han and I would open a bottle of wine, and there began what became a seasonal ritual.  Han has visited our friend, Mary Lou, twice with his new partner, but he now drinks little so that ritual has changed for him.  However, Mary Lou and I were determined to continue the tradition, and enjoyed good wine on my arrival, and more wine as we ate a leisurely dinner at the café near the lake.  So many emotions whirled in my head, and on visiting another dear friend, who didn’t know that Han and I had separated, I could feel the tears, I thought I had dried, well again in my eyes.  We walked around the boardwalk, a walk I have taken dozens of times, and the overwhelming beauty of the area again reminded me that I was but a grain of sand, and my problems just as insignificant in the mighty scheme of life. I left my friend, feeling emotionally charged, not drained, positive, though reflective, and I enjoyed the drive back home as I listened to my favourite music.

Travelling by car is a good way to reflect on life, to soak up the scenery while listening to good music.  About six weeks ago, Shahan and I went up to Hawea so that Shahan could catch up with Suny and family after being in China for seven months.  On the way through the rolling countryside, Shahan asked me questions about my life, and I shared stories with her which she had never heard.  Most of the stories revolved around my years in Japan, and Shahan, like many of my friends, thinks that I should write a novel about that time.  Now that I have separated from Han, it makes writing about my relationship with my Japanese partner so much easier.  It is impossible for me to write about a past relationship if I am involved with another person. I will have to trawl through my diaries and begin to write the opening paragraph.   A novel is born, to be hoped!

I didn’t write my diary when I was in Sydney recently, but I will share with you a few of my memories, mainly the people I met as that is what is most important to me.  However, some of the facts may be wrong as I tend to embellish stories with time, but the kernel of the story is true!

On instructions from my friend and colleague who lived in Sydney, I followed my map and walked across town from Darling Harbour, heading in the direction of Irish hairdresser who cut my hair so well.  After having my hair beautifully washed and massaged, I was offered a glass of wine which I immediately accepted.  As I had my hair expertly cut by deft hands, my hairdresser opened up to me and told me a little of his life’s story.  Michael was brought up in a very depressed part of Dublin, the youngest of  seven children born to a manic depressive mother whose husband had left her when the children were young.  Being the youngest, Michael was given the responsibility of looking after his mother, so his schooling was patchy to say the least.  He had a passion for hairdressing, but was told he could be a barber which did not appeal to him at all.  Against his family’s wishes, he trained in the vocation which would become his saving grace, and as soon as he became well known in the city, his family would call upon his services each Christmas eve.  He dreaded this time of year because he would be up till two o’clock in the morning doing the hair of every member of his family!  As soon as he could afford to, he escaped to Australia, where he has made a name for himself and makes more money than many well -educated professionals.  When I told him that my sister had died, he confided in me that two of his brothers had died, one at his own hands of a heroin overdose, and the other had tragically died at the hand of another unknown gunman who shot him down in cold blood as he dropped his two children off at childcare. The brother had also struggled through life, and had finally met a lovely woman and turned his life around, only to be shot in the head by a random assailant.  Life certainly isn’t fair.  Michael said that he found grieving difficult as he had always had a difficult relationship with his family.  Being gay in an underprivileged area with narrow minded, uneducated people meant that life was never easy for young Michael.  He found it so refreshing to live in Sydney where he was accepted for who he was, although he concurred with me that no relationship was easy, whether one be gay or not!

Leaving the hairdresser’s, I felt that I should be heading out on a date, although bearing in mind the sentiments Michael and I expressed about the difficulties of relationships, I was happy to set out alone!  However, I did, in fact, spend the rest of the day walking around on my own, finding steps which led me down to Circular Quay, and walking past restaurants where couples were dining. It is funny how when one is in a relationship, you don’t notice other couples, but it becomes painfully obvious when you are on your own.  Wandering through the Botanic Gardens was beautiful, and I looked up into the trees to see hundreds of bats dangling.  I remembered being amazed to see them in Melbourne when I was there to see my granddaughter five years ago, and they are not a creature with whom I have a great affinity!  However, they are part of nature’s wonders, and so long as they don’t touch me, I will leave them alone!  Getting lost a couple of times, I approached locals who kindly showed me the way. I asked a gentleman in a pink striped shirt which way I should take as I approached the Botanic Gardens in the middle of the afternoon, and was amazed to pass him on the busy main street, called George Street, about four hours later!  Who said Sydney wasn’t small?

Catching a ferry to Cremont Point allowed me the chance to reminisce over the time I had spent in Sydney when I was twenty years old. I had a dear friend from Greece at the time, and he invited me over to Sydney to stay with him on his ship as he was the second officer.  The ship was berthed near the Sydney Harbour Bridge, and I remember exploring the area around the Rocks, and the main streets of Sydney.  I was young and free, much the same as now, only now I am older and perhaps not quite so able to uproot and go somewhere else. On reflection, I am not in the same space at all, but I still feel the same! At that time, I was studying Classical Greek, Latin and Law at university, and I remember taking all my books with me to study.  “Yeah right,” as they say in the Tui ad, but I felt better having them with me!  It is incredible that after all these years, I am still in contact with Steve, and although we had a few years when we didn’t hear from each other, he wrote to me out of the blue just after Vicki had died. The timing was incredible, and I believe that it is more than just a quirk of fate.

Walking around the small path that led me past glorious houses on Cremont point to the haven of Mossman, I reached the seemingly secluded bay with houses and apartments overlooking the water.  The area oozed money, and I wondered what people did to accrue such wealth.  Nothing seems too ostentatious, but the predominantly brick houses were built with style.  I found a small path down which I precariously walked in my stylish boots, wondering why I didn’t wear more practical shoes when I knew I would be walking so much!  A couple stopped me to ask where I was from, saying they thought I was a business woman taking a break from my busy day.  It is interesting how one is perceived by others!  It must have been the new haircut, as I never see my self as looking like a businesswoman!  In this attire, I discovered a garden that had been the life’s work of a couple who created paradise out of a barren hillside.  Thoughts again turned to Han, as so many of the plants were the same as are found in our garden, and I found my heart race, and my eyes become misty with tears.

Walking back through the crowded streets to Darling Harbour, I stopped to have some dinner at a restaurant overlooking the harbour and the well lit high rise buildings beyond.  I must admit that I don’t like eating alone, and although I ordered a glass of wine, and tried to make the most of the experience, I sensed that the young Indian waiter felt sorry for me, and kept on coming over to talk to me. I felt like some pathetic old aunt, although I kept up a brave face till I returned to the apartment and threw myself into the pool to wash away those feelings of negativity.  I love water for cleansing not only my body, but my mind.  I can’t imagine living without a spa as I immerse myself in the hot water at least twice a day.  Unfortunately, Han is keeping our spa, and it will be one of the first things I have to buy for my wee cottage. It is a necessity, not a luxury for me, although most people would consider it the latter.  What do you think?

The day before leaving Sydney, a former student from Egypt, now a good friend whom I have known for well over ten years, picked me up and took me down to see his dental practice in Woollongong, eighty kilometres south of Sydney.  I was able to visit Paddy’s market once more before meeting up with Adel, but the hard-case Lebanese fruitseller, who had paid me a wonderful compliment which lifted my spirits on my first day in Sydney, was not there. I had just wanted to thank him for being so openly friendly, but I am sure he says that to all the women who come to his stall.  However, I am not being cynical, as I think it is very important to acknowledge when people are nice to you, and to appreciate the time you spend with each individual, no matter how short a time it is.  I am trying not to rush as much as I used to, and make sure I give the people I meet my undivided attention.  If someone says to me I look “too busy,” I take this as a flaw in my interaction with people. 

In Woollongong, we managed to get a table for dinner at an extremely popular seafood restaurant near a lagoon.  I marvelled at the staff, who entered all the meals into a central computer, and the service was exceptionally efficient. I used to be a dining room manager of a popular restaurant, soon after I graduated from university, and I appreciate good systems.  After a nice meal, Adel drove me back up to Sydney, using his GPS to guide us. However, he said he preferred to use his sense of direction, and a combination had me at my apartment in time to have a wonderful swim before retiring.  Adel drove all the way home, to turn round in the morning to pick me up, and take me to the airport. That is the sign of a true friend.

I hope you have a good friend with whom you can share your thoughts, and who would do anything to help you.  Having special people in our lives is so important, and it is equally important to acknowledge how lucky we are to have such people in our lives.  At school, I constantly tell the people with whom I work how special they are, and of course, I tell my family that as well.  I believe that showing how grateful we are is critical to a happy life.

Let’s hope the weather improves, and we are able to enjoy the sunshine again!

Please write to me, if you have time, even if it is just a few lines.

Love

Sharron