The Real Kiwiana

Marketeers in New Zealand would lead you to believe that "Kiwiana" is best expressed in media like kauri (big-ass-tree wood), paua (abalone shell), and pounamu (greenstone), and consists of patterns derived from koru (fern), Tiki (bug-eyed Maori deity), hei matau (fish hook), kowhaiwhai, roimata, toki ... the list goes on. 

Hei matau FAIL!

Koruesque

Kowhaiwhai-ish

Red, black, and white. Merino wool. Possum fur. But these "takeaway" versions of Kiwiana are strictly tourists-only. As all the Chinese souvenir manufacturers know.

The REAL KIWIANA (RK) for New Zealanders by New Zealanders is of a different stripe. With great humour and sentimentality, Kiwi ad-men have used it as a powerful weapon in the battle for the hearts and minds of the NZ consumer. Nothing says "NZ" like Lemon and Paeroa, or L+P, a pop made in the one-horse town of Paeroa in the Waikato. There is lemon in it. So obviously .... Anyway, the following ad packs in more RK per second than any other I can think of, and is anthropologically significant. For the tourist or foreigner, this ad will tell you more about NZ than any Lonely Planet book, or a trip to the Waitomo Caves.

Even this example of RK is just a little too slick. 

Much of the RK is hidden out of the way from the average tourist. The following humble artifacts are pure RK, and are found in just about every Kiwi bach and home the length and breadth of NZ. 

"Would you like a hot drink?"

Kitchen items are among the artifacts that most pointedly declare a Kiwi home a Kiwi home. Nothing says "New Zealand" like the brown glass mug. Basically, if you haven't been served a "hot drink" (aka tea, coffee, milo, hot water) in one of these babies while in NZ, you are well and truly out of the loop, and are likely some manner of social outcast.

Wash, dry. Cold, hot. No rinse.

For the North American accustomed to two sinks (and one tap!) the Kiwi kitchen sink is a stretch of the hygienic imagination. If you're eating in NZ, you're also ingesting the residue of last night's meal along with the dish soap! I love, however, the seamless metal sinks and counters! It makes cleaning up such a treat! 

Where the NZ cutting board lives.

You know when you have to ask where the cutting board is? Not so in NZ. The NZ cutting board lives on top of the two taps. Almost without variation. Only posh people put it away in a cupboard. Which is likely something Dad knocked up in ten minutes from old fruit crates 20 years ago to store the pots and pans after Mum decided enough was enough.

I wear my sunglasses at night -- and not because I'm cool.

I have noticed that people from islands and the Mediterranean tend to like overhead lighting. What's more, they seem to enjoy the glare and oppression of bare bulbs. Incandescent, energy-saver, flourescent, whatever. I reckon they are trying to replicate the glare and oppression of the high-noon sun at the height of summer. On the other hand, people from more northern and continental climes seem to love soft lamp-lighting that creates safe, cocoon-like spaces out of the evening dim. I reckon this is in replication of a low-slung, weak sun and the effects of candles and fire-light. A visit to the average NZ home has all the ambiance of an interrogation room at a police station. I end up with something akin to snow-blindness after 15 minutes, and am frequently found shielding my eyes with my hand or my arm. It tends to make me squirm in my seat too. I have decided that, along with huge puffy wool socks, a parka, and a toque (to combat inclement indoor house temperatures), I am going to start wearing a visor and sunglasses at people's houses. For the love of God, people, I'm no mole, but buy a damn lamp!

Of course I've left out so much. But I hope this small glimpse into the untapped RK inventory gives you some idea of New Zealand and New Zealanders beyond bungee jumping in Queenstown and pohutukawa tchotchkes!