Herstory History
Each of us has a story, infact my story is not your story and herstory is not history and that’s what makes this world so interesting. Whether we say we are or not, each of us is a global citizen, always have been. Its just that now with the ‘reach’ of the internet and the world wide web it’s really brought that fact much closer to home, for better or for worse!
History was made yesterday when Barack Obama became the first black Afro-America President Elect of the United States of America. This single turn of events will go down in the annals of both American and World Political history as momentus. It’s such a wonder to me when I find myself standing ‘in’ history when it happens. It’s totally wonderous.
History is dynamic, that is its essence. When change occurs not everyone is on the same page and I’m okay with that. Why? Because those who adopt it [change] early are made of a particular kind of stuff. They see it long before anyone else can and do. Those who adopt it later round out the continuum of conscience and care. We need both.
I’m writing about the trip North in retrospect, it’s just worked out that way, being on the road at the same time as the Obama-MCain roadshow has meant there’s been more traffic so pulling into a Rest Bay just out of Rangiriri to take it all in has been a smart move.
Moving on, the roads have widened now to three lanes on either side of a concrete divider and suddenly the relative quiet of the country has become a little more strident, urgent even as on ramps snake out to the main thoroughfare that leads to the heart of the city. It’s harder to hear the plop of the paddle but they’re there, those ancestors.
I lived in Sydney for so many years that driving in Auckland is not a big deal, my international driving rule is that you may be forgiven anything (I mean ANYTHING including coming from the inside lane to the extreme outter lane to take some off ramp you NEED to be on) IF you indicate AND if you give those behind you a cheery wave and smile! Works every time for me!
We exit the freeway to Greenlane to meet up with my daughter Mede, cousin Malcolm, my neice Tracey and Freeman her flatmate. The whanau (family) has begun to gather. As a group we all head back to Tracey, Samantha and Freeman’s flat (N.Z. word meaning an apartment) for afternoon tea and a much needed cuppa, then it’s on to Haranui Marae. We are coming Nanny Moewaka.
