I got it. I got something. I got a job. I got thirty hours a week for four months at an health care clinic that already knew and liked me from last year, across the street from old work so I’ll have the same commute and everything. I’m picking up the employment offer letter tomorrow and heading over to immigration to spend the day waiting in queues and wrangling with bureaucrats; I don’t know how long the visa will take to go through but since social work is on the Long Term Skills Shortage List I am reasonably hopeful that they’ll be able to expedite it and that I’ll be able to start work sometime in the middle of October. I ought to be able to swing a bit of travel around the South Island (Abel Tasman, here I come!) before then and I am going to join the Island Bay Dive Club tomorrow when I get home from town. It’s going to be an awesome summer.
I was supposed to hear from them yesterday and didn’t, and when I called this morning at ten the guy said he’d meet me at two, and so I had several hours to fill with pure unadulterated worry. “I’m not done with New Zealand, and New Zealand’s not done with me,” I wrote over and over in my paper journal, as if it were a magic charm, as if I could will this into existence, as if writing it down would make it happen. As if I believed that what I wanted could actually happen for me.
I put on my lucky goldfish underpants and Cherie came over to give me a haircut (best ever) and have lunch and generally distract me, and then gave me a ride into Newtown. “At 2:15 I’ll know,” I told her, and I walked in and was immediately handed a cream puff by one of the staff members in the tea room. Several of them remembered me and asked how I was doing and how my last job had gone, and then it was time to go and chat to the manager for thirty minutes about politics before getting down to the issue at hand: “I suppose you’d like to chat about what’s going on here, eh?” he said, smiling.
And then I took the bus into town and went to Glassons to look for a new hoodie jumper since I left mine in Australia, and to text everyone about the good news, and to sit in the library reading cooking magazines, killing time until my dinner with Alex. The new Italian café on Cuba Street where Giulia works closes at six on Tuesdays so we had pizza at Scopa instead and talked about race and ethnicity and love and travel and ice cream, and she got me home in time to watch Outrageous Fortune. Alice texted me about it during the commercial breaks (“Can you believe Loretta?”) and I got a bunch more happy congratulatory texts from pretty much everyone I know here. Brent reminded me about his cheese party. Cherie said “It must have been the haircut!” Traysi asked if I felt like dancing at this Sunday’s hafla (to which I responded, “Uh, I don’t think I’m up for performing this weekend”). Danica, Sara, and Shirley said they’d see me on Saturday night and Deirdre said she knew it would happen, that it wasn’t time for me to leave. “Praise the lord and pass the lemon sorbetto,” said Sylvia, and her partner M, who was the one who got me in touch with the person who got me in touch with this job, said “My work here is done.” Simon congratulated me as he was boarding his plane back to England. David and Jem and Matt and Mat and Simon and Lisa and Julie and Pablo and Vanessa and the other Julie and Melanie from Innisfail and my beloved Jill who is currently in Perth, overusing the exclamation point key and running down my phone’s battery, letting me know they’re glad I’m staying, that I get to stay, that I get to stay. For a little while longer, assuming the visa comes through and the creek don’t rise, I get to stay.
And at some point, probably as I was snuggled up in one of the library’s window seats looking out at a rainy garden evening and feeling thankful that I wasn’t going to have to spend my dinner with Alex feeling sad, I thought: how did this happen? I mean, right: I am good at what I do and I had been working in the community and I knew the people at the clinic (although I didn’t know there was a job going there) and I have a Master’s—finally! Good for something!—and they needed someone who was willing to do part time contract work and so on and so forth. All the reasons that you get a job.
But you know what I mean: how did this happen? Did I just want it bad enough? Did I manifest it? Does New Zealand just love me as much as I love it? Did my decision, in the last week, to pretty much only listen to NZ music and watch NZ TV and movies have anything to do with it, as I secretly hoped it would? Did everyone just cross their fingers real hard?
I got involved with the Wellington bellydance community some time last year. I met Sylvia in March or so at a class, and she got my number from the teacher to invite me to another class. I eventually went, and we all went out for kebabs afterwards. And then she found this blog, and then we started hanging out outside of class, and then I went to dinner at her house and met her partner M. And then it was time for me to find a job, no really, it was time for me to find a job, and I sent a frantic text to my friends about how maybe I was going to have to leave Wellington soon. M talked to his boss’ partner, who is a social worker, and that partner emailed me and told me to give her a call. We talked on the phone for an hour two Sundays ago and she told me about this part time job at a place I already knew. I set up a meeting with them even though I couldn’t take part time work because, eh, what the hell, I haven’t been over there to visit for a while and it would be nice to say hello and you never know. And today that place said they’d worked it out so I could get the thirty hours I need for a sponsored visa, and now I am sitting basically on top of the heater in my living room because it’s all of a sudden cold after being gorgeous all weekend, telling you about it.
And maybe it was you. Maybe it was you who was crossing your fingers really hard for me this whole time; maybe you have talked to me about this over hot chocolate, or maybe you have just been reading long enough to know what being here means to me, why I’m different here, why I want to stay. Maybe it was you and me, all my friends and family, all the people I love and who love me, all together. Maybe it was us who did it.
This is what they mean, when they tell you that it’s relationships that are the most important—that are the only things—in life. Not because of “networking” or getting jobs or whatever, although, you know, that’s nice. It’s because you get to know, and get to love your people, and they get to know and love you, and they want the best for you. And you get the best for you, because the best for you is them, whatever else happens in your life, wherever you stay or go, and no matter where you are in the world.
Comments
36 responses to “Don’t Dream It’s Over”
Best news EVER. Thank you for letting us know (now I can breathe again!). I’m so incredibly happy for you; this whole thing – NZ, the people you’ve met, the jobs, the travel, all the experiences – have all meant to be. Who knows what will happen next? Wheeee! Lots of congratulatory hugs, etc.
Oh this is WONDERFUL! I’m thrilled for you, my dear. Just thrilled!!!!
WOOOOOHOOOOO!!!!
Yesterday afternoon, which here in NYC probably corresponded with early Tuesday morning for you (?), I thought “It’s do-or-die week for Chiara. Better send her some of that positive energy.” So, YES!! I think we all like to think we helped a little, giving you the extra bit of strength and will to manifest this wonderful thing.
Love and love and love!!
I am so happy and relieved for you. As much as I’d love to see you back over here, New Zealand has just been SO good for you that I don’t want you to leave there until it’s on your terms. I’m so thrilled that you get to stay.
Hooray!
hooray hooray hooray. Congratulations.
So pleased for you! Enjoy the summer!
Relationships are the only things that really matter, because they and our souls are all we’ll get to take with us to the next life, I b’lieve.
Congratulations, so much, Chiara. I can’t wait to salivate at the mention of more kebabs for another year!
Yeeeeeeaaaaaaaah!!
Yay YAY! I am so happy for you.
And I think it is about relationships, but I think it’s also about New Zealand totally appreciating your awesomeness just as much as you appreciate New Zealand’s awesomeness. :D
Woooo!!!! I was thinking about you while I was driving in to work this morning and thinking I’d better e-mail you to get the latest. Wahoo! And the answer to everything is YES! Yes, you manifested it, yes NZ wasn’t done with you, yes NZ loves you, yes, watching and listening to NZ media mattered, yes we were sending waves of make-it-happen to you, and yes — yes, your awesome skill of making friends really is a wonderful gift. Also: Hooray! Wooooo!!!
Yay!!!! I’m so happy for you!
Four months, eh? Well, I’d better get my travel plans in order then. When is good for you?
:) I’m very happy for you!
I’m SO HAPPY you get to stay longer, though I will admit I’m sad it will be even more time until I get to see you again. Congrats!!
(You know, if you need an excuse to stay in NZ even longer, you could always start a cupcake shop. I’m just sayin’….)
Excellent news, as I think I put on your facebook profile!! So does this mean just 4 months more stay in NZ or can you get a longer visa?
CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!
*jumps up and down for you*
I’m so happy for you, I really wanted you to get what you wished for. And I’m also a bit happy for me, since I now get to read about more adventures in NZ.
yahhhhh!!!! so happy you get to stay. well done.
My last few days have been round after round of refresh Ampersand, no new entry, close browser. But today! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!! So very very very happy for you!
Booyah!
Phew. I mean, I’d be glad you’d be back, and all, but honestly, it’s not worth it if you’d be as sad as I’m afraid you’d be. (That was a lot of copula verbs for one sentence.)(Hee. Copula verbs.) So hooray for a new visa!
Crying, crying. So overcome. It’s so deserved. YOU ARE SO LOVED.
(insert squee here, as you know I would have done anyway)
Yippee!
Congratulations! Hmm, maybe time to start planning that trip down under…
I am so happy for you.
That last paragraph gave me goosebumps. Really.
Hooray!!
*Single left-eyed tear of joy*
YAY!
WOOHOOOO!!!!
Awesome! I’ve been afraid to check in, afraid it would be bad news. But this, this is terrific!
YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!
YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!
WOOOOOOOOOOOO!
(Imagine this going on for several more screens and you get the idea.)
I am going to have to write you email about all the other stuff, but in the meantime, “Praise the lord and pass the lemon sorbetto”? Needs to go on a t-shirt or maybe a tattoo or something.
Yeah girl, congratulations! I know that I said it once already, but it’s SUCH good news that I thought it really belonged in both places!
Enjoy your lovely summer…
Never underestimate the power of lucky goldfish underpants. Congrats!
Soooo happy for you Chira! Congratulations!
KISMET AND SORBETTO AND HOT CHOCOLATE WOOO!! I’m so happy for you!!!
I don’t even know you (I’m a friend of David’s) but I am seriously happy you get to stay – anyone who loves our little country that much NEEDS to stay here. I felt very affected by your post earlier (“…Give me the beach and the hills and the Southern Cross in my bedroom window”).
And I want lucky goldfish underpants too :-)