Judith Lacy's Jottings: Cultural diversity worth celebrating

A Lunar New Year greeting on the side of Cook St Pharmacy in Palmerston North is a sign of the city's increasing cultural diversity.

OPINION:

Mum was horrified when I told her a boy at my new school had asked if I was "half-caste".

Now, before you - and I - rush to judge Mum this was more than 40 years ago.

My arms used to go really brown in summer and I guess the boy was curious.

My arms are still browner than the rest of my body and my legs so white one needs sunglasses to look at them. And my face, well it's red – thanks to Dad and his Irish ancestry. I'm happy I inherited his love of history and laughter. I'm happy I didn't get his nose or fat fingers.

We don't choose to be white, black, brown, ginger or a mixture – we just are.

We all have hearts and hopes, fears and fingers, loves and loathes, dreams and dermis, knees and needs.

Manawatū is one of the most culturally diverse regions in New Zealand with more than 130 ethnic communities. Try sitting at the food court at The Plaza and see how many ethnicities you can spot.

It's one thing to admire colourful dresses worn by Congolese women, wrap your chops around a well-made vindaloo and marvel at the way those Latin American hips move, but are you someone who welcomes and even embraces diversity?

For the past three years, I've been teaching English to adults - mostly Chinese, Afghani and Rohingya.

On paper I was there to teach the mostly former refugees English, Kiwi culture, numeracy and digital literacy. But boy did I learn a lot about myself, my prejudices and what life is like in other parts of the world.

I was surprised at how punctilious I was when I saw what I perceived as a breach of Māori tikanga, particularly students sitting on tables.

The most simplistic definition I've heard of culture is "how things are done around here". It's simple and I like it.

Cultural diversity is, of course, much more than the colour of our skin and our ethnic background.

When a friend moved to Palmy from northern Europe, her sense of direction was out of whack as the sun shines from the north here and moves the "wrong" way around. But whatever way we go round our home planet, we are still people.

I'm the first to admit I get grumpy with people who walk on the wrong i.e. right side of the footpath. Surely they don't drive on the right hand side of the road?

But then I have to remind myself they might be from super crowded cities where they have to duck and dive to get by.

And by drawing attention to themselves by getting in my way, I get to add to my knowledge of Palmy's cultural diversity.

+ Judith Lacy is editor of the Manawatū Guardian.