On the Tourist Map

Perhaps it was because we have four flagpoles in our yard, they vary from time to time but regularly we display the New Zealand, Union Jack, England, Wales, Tanzania, Silver Fern or All Black flags – just because they have personal significance for us and we enjoy our flags.

Whatever the reason, during my afternoon tasks, I emerged from my firewood heap, rounding a tall fence and into the yard when I saw a mini-bus coming up the drive. As I stopped to watch its approach, there came another, then another and yet another!

There is plenty of room in the yard to accommodate all of them, but I was mystified because it appeared to me that they knew where they were going and were confident of their right to be here.

There were nine people in each bus, so thirty six spilled out into the yard, many lighting up cigarettes and some walking over to inspect our house, taking photos as they went and walking around the garden looking at plants, also taking photos.

They were all Chinese and only the driver of the first bus admitted to knowing any English.

‘Are you looking for the camping ground? It’s just down the road.’ I offered.

The reply was a wide smile and a shake of the head.

‘Are you meeting someone from the forest?’ I asked.

His reply was the same.

‘Well then, what are you doing here at my house?’ I didn’t want to seem unwelcoming, but the situation seemed to me to be ridiculous.

I was watchful that none of them went around the back of the house, out of my sight because nobody else was home at the time.

The man said that they just popped in for a look! Who knows why they even left the main road? But there may have been a reason.

Some of the women spoke to the English speaking guy, who seemed to be loosely in charge.

‘Can we use your toilet?’ he asked.

‘No.’ I’m not that friendly, so many people traipsing through the house was not going to happen, ‘Nobody goes inside.’

‘Do they need to do number one or number two?’ I asked him.

He didn’t get it, so I demonstrated the origins of number one and number two – causing a few embarrassed looks.

‘If you want to do number one,’ demonstrating again, ‘you can go into those bushes.’ I pointed to the area of native bush where the urine of thirty six people would do no harm – as long as they didn’t all do it in the same place.

‘If you want to do number two,’ with the appropriate demo, ‘bugger off somewhere else! Town is twenty minutes north and the next village is ten minutes south – there are public toilets.’

The guy waved a double-hand ‘No.’ and told his mates to get back into the buses.

I showed him the cigarette butts littering the drive, but he chose not to get that either! So I picked up twenty nine as they headed back to the main road. Only the men smoked, so how do eighteen manage to smoke twenty nine cigarettes in less than fifteen minutes?

So there we go! We are on the Tourist Map!

But I don’t know, I think they wanted to see how an actual native lives in an authentic New Zealand setting.