Kate Stewart
My big brother came home last week.
It was fantastic to see him despite the real reason for his visit. He was here to say his goodbyes to the withered one. Some final memories in the making.
Nothing prepares you for it but we muddled through it. Like an awkward dance, we managed to stay in step and downplay the clumsy moments.
I've only seen him twice in the past 20 years yet somehow we managed to stay close and connected.
Now a top project manager for a leading global investment bank, he made no bones about the fact that he would rather be anywhere else than a little backwater place like Whanganui.
His job has taken him from Sydney, where he was initially based, to China and South Africa. He was then relocated to London where he made weekly trips to Germany and Switzerland and got a DVT to prove it. He's now based in New York, paying more money in rent each week than I earn in a month. What could little old Whanganui possibly have to offer him, other than precious time with his mum.
Turns out, quite a bit ... and no one was more pleasantly surprised than he was.
As an avid collector of toy cars, I drove him round all the second-hand shops where he found some real treasures at bargain prices. He was like a kid in candy store, then we actually got to the candy store, where he bulk purchased all those Kiwi things that were sadly lacking from his international travels: Pinky Bars, Minties, Pineapple Lumps and Spacemen Lollies.
Next was the supermarket where he stocked up on Maggi Packet Soups, sachets of Raro and baked beans in tomato sauce, not the brown molasses based stuff they eat in the States.
We were in the baked bean aisle when a young lady came up to us. She was laughing and chatting away, apologising for being "so wasted". Even that simple, random exchange seemed to delight him. He told me how much he missed that, the way we Kiwis are famous for exchanging pleasantries with complete strangers. He went on to have many more such encounters on his brief visit home.
Of course, I couldn't let him leave without taking him to the River Traders' Market. He spent furiously and conversed easily at every stall we stopped at.
This man, who dines at the world's top food joints, told me the spiced pulled pork buns with crackling he bought for us was some of the best pulled pork he had ever eaten. On our way out he grabbed a huge pie. It was priceless, the absolute look of joy and pleasure that passed over his face as he sampled our most humble Kiwi fare.
Dinner that night was fish and chips with Watties tomato sauce ... Let me quote him; "Life doesn't get any better than that."
My brother may choose never to live here again and that's okay but it was fantastic to see his attitude about Whanganui change in such a short space of time.
His reason for being here may not have been a happy one but the people and the place put a smile on his face, which proves there is no place like home and even when compared to some of the swankiest cities in the world, Whanganui can definitely hold its own.
- Kate Stewart is a politically incorrect reluctant mother of three, who is also a staunch advocate of common sense and three-ply toilet tissue - feedback to investik8@gmail.com