My decision to study in New Zealand might have been an odd one, but a number of reasons contributed towards me choosing so. I couldn’t afford going to the UK or US, thanks to rather limited funding options. Australia was a strict no at that time (2010), because Indian students were facing racial attacks.
I had too many family friends in Canada, and I wanted to live alone for a while. Singapore didn’t allow post graduate students to work part-time.
Hence, I was left with New Zealand and an offer from the Waikato Institute of Technology (Wintec) in Hamilton (NZ).
After investing my entire savings in tuition fees, I headed to the IGI Airport to catch my cheap Thai Airways flight to Auckland.
World’s Most Expensive Flowers
Remember how Harbhajan Singh was once held at the Auckland International Airport because he was wearing dirty socks, when India was going on a tour of New Zealand? I did remember and hence wore new socks and shoes for my journey, just to be safe.
What I didn’t know was fresh flowers (including pooja ke phool) was also not allowed in NZ. And you know Indian mothers and their unabashed faith in pooja ke phool. Well, mine nicely tucked one in saying, “Always keep this with you. I am putting it in your bag now so that it doesn’t get lost.”
They didn’t get lost, but what happened next was not something I was prepared for. While moving through customs, I had 11 officers checking my luggage, simply because their dog smelled something funny in one of my bags.
And after some rigorous searching, they found the flower.
Officer: I am sorry Sir, but fresh flowers are not allowed in New Zealand.
He slapped me with a $250 (NZ dollars) fine (Rs 8,750 at the time). So much for benevolent blessings!
Finally, I was out of the airport, headed into a strange, new, stunningly beautiful land.
I remember being amazed by New Zealand’s landscape in the Lord of the Rings movies, but this was way better than one could imagine. But I will tell that story another day.
I hopped on to my pre-booked cab and we started for Hamilton, a one-and-a-half-hour drive from Auckland.
Loitering Around Hamilton
Unlike most International students, I had arrived two weeks before my classes were to begin. Just so I could settle down, and also get familiar with the place and the people. The city of Hamilton is nestled on the banks of the mighty Waikato River, and is well-known for its walks, gardens, cafes and nightlife.
A must-visit place is the Hamilton Gardens. While it is no less than the Tulip Gardens in Netherlands, this garden had something special – it was an amalgamation of several small gardens dedicated to several countries. And yes, India had her spot too.
Sitting next to the Waikato River, reading while having a beer is the best thing one can do on a lazy Sunday afternoon, unless you have been invited to a barbecue by a local.
Nightlife in the city is particularly fun. With a wide array of pubs/clubs like Shenanigans, House, Speight’s Alehouse, Cock&Bull, one can happily hop and paint the town red.
Tears at a Striptease Club
On my fifth day in Hamilton, I had the pleasure of meeting some of my countrymen. A few other International students from India had arrived at my hostel. Struck with newfound camaraderie, we decided to go to town and party. However, while club hopping, we stumbled upon a striptease club.
Much like beef burgers, striptease is a luxury that we don’t get in India, unless of course your girlfriend is into that kind of stuff. Or you have affluent and resourceful friends who can conjure up trained strippers at the drop of a hat.
We, the deprived lot, took no time to fling the doors open and enter.
What followed next was an amalgamation of awe, surprise, excitement, and trepidation – our dropping jaws speaking volumes.
Nevertheless, we secured a seat, right next to the podium where the show was on.
While all of us tried our best to ‘settle in’, one of the girls decided to give a lap dance of one of my only-met-a-while-ago friends.
Wow, some of us exclaimed in our heads. Lucky chap!
But our musings were soon invaded by incoherent mumblings. My friend who was at the throes of an enviable lap dance, had begun muttering in Tamil. As if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, he decided to accompany the rants with some time-ordained sobbing.
If you are thinking those were tears of joy he was shedding, you would be gravely mistaken.
In a fit of laughter, another friend told me what he was mumbling in Tamil: “If my mother finds out about this, I’ll not get to stay in NZ a day more.”
Suddenly Fire Cats (the club) didn’t seem that intimidating anymore.
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