Life in New Zealand
Akaroa from above
A sign post in Akaroa for the RCs and Disenters place of burial.
Uncle Arnett relaxing in the sunshine on the pier in Akaroa.
Hello again from rainy Christchurch. The weather forecast for the next few days is cloudy and drizzle followed by rain. In other words its Manchester weather without the freezing wind. Each week I hear from the people in Christchurch that the summer will start at the beginning of February. I wait in anticipation.
I am now living in the cathedral presbytery full time and I will be staying here until I leave on the 14th of April. It is a lovely big house with many rooms and flatlets. I have a bedroom, sitting room and bathroom all to my self which is good. Being in the cathedral house also puts me at the hub of the diocese and I get the oportunity of meeting lots of people who pass through. I also get to know fairly early what is going on in the diocese. Not that I am one for gossip.
Because of my chaplain’s job I very rarely eat at lunch time as I am usually at the hospital until 3 or 4 o’clock in the afternoon. I then come home and make myself something to eat. Being a vegemite it also makes it easy to cook my own food, then I can eat what I want and like.
Working in the hospital has given me a great insight into how people view priests. As I walk through the many corridoors of the hospitals I get many different reactions. Some people smile, some look away so that I don’t catch their eyes, others stare right through me as though I do not exist, some people do not know how to react and look uncomfortable and others acknowledge that I exist and greet me. One can nearly always tell who the Catholics are as they will greet me with ‘Hello Father’. There seems to be a deep seated knowledge that the Catholic priest is the one who wears a black shirt and dog collar, whereas the Anglican vicar wears a bright shirt and dog collar. That can range from a blue and white pin stripe shirt to a pink one. The whole idea of the black clothing of a priest was that the priest wouldn’t be bothered with wondering what he was going to wear. Now that the Anglicans have women priests there are even frilly shirts in all shades of colour. I must explore this area to see what best suits my complexion! I digress as usual.
It has been a busy week at the hospital which started with a few major road crashes with nine people being admitted all at once and people milling everywhere. It is only when one works in a busy hospital that you can understand just how hard the staff work especially in the emergency area. I have been called out a few times to the emergency area. Once I was called out because a patient would not allow the staff to do anything until they had seen the priest. I had to convince the patient that the doctors and nurses knew what they were doing and that it was in their best interest to let them proceed. They say that all life passes through a hospital and it sure does. It is certaintly an eye opener being a semi-full time chaplain.
I take my days off during the week Tuesday and Wednesday and this gives me a break and also time that I can spend with uncle. This week we went to a beautiful place called Akaroa and spent a couple of days there. We stayed in a Bed and Breakfast there the Maples which was very nice. When I told the Lady running the place a Mrs Norman, that I was a Catholic priest she said that she was an RC which pleased me until she said that meant she was a Retired Catholic. It turned out that her three brothers actually worked in the same factory as uncle Arnett and he knew them, and that she went to school with Arnett’s step daughter. What a small world.
The weather was really hot and sunny the first day which made the place sparkle. The only cloudy issue was the New Zealanders attitude to customer relationships. The majority of them who work in shops and eating places seem to have the idea that the customer either takes it or leaves and it is too much hasle when they start asking questions or even worse complaining. They really take the hump if you challenge their attitude. It is rare to come across a helpful shop or eating assistant, unless they are Asian, who nearly always are extremely polite and helpful and never make you feel that you are a pain, even though you may be. To me that is the sign of a good sales person. I must say that not all New Zealanders are like that but they are many who are, which is such a shame as they have a beautiful country.
Hello again from rainy Christchurch. The weather forecast for the next few days is cloudy and drizzle followed by rain. In other words its Manchester weather without the freezing wind. Each week I hear from the people in Christchurch that the summer will start at the beginning of February. I wait in anticipation.
I am now living in the cathedral presbytery full time and I will be staying here until I leave on the 14th of April. It is a lovely big house with many rooms and flatlets. I have a bedroom, sitting room and bathroom all to my self which is good. Being in the cathedral house also puts me at the hub of the diocese and I get the oportunity of meeting lots of people who pass through. I also get to know fairly early what is going on in the diocese. Not that I am one for gossip.
Because of my chaplain’s job I very rarely eat at lunch time as I am usually at the hospital until 3 or 4 o’clock in the afternoon. I then come home and make myself something to eat. Being a vegemite it also makes it easy to cook my own food, then I can eat what I want and like.
Working in the hospital has given me a great insight into how people view priests. As I walk through the many corridoors of the hospitals I get many different reactions. Some people smile, some look away so that I don’t catch their eyes, others stare right through me as though I do not exist, some people do not know how to react and look uncomfortable and others acknowledge that I exist and greet me. One can nearly always tell who the Catholics are as they will greet me with ‘Hello Father’. There seems to be a deep seated knowledge that the Catholic priest is the one who wears a black shirt and dog collar, whereas the Anglican vicar wears a bright shirt and dog collar. That can range from a blue and white pin stripe shirt to a pink one. The whole idea of the black clothing of a priest was that the priest wouldn’t be bothered with wondering what he was going to wear. Now that the Anglicans have women priests there are even frilly shirts in all shades of colour. I must explore this area to see what best suits my complexion! I digress as usual.
It has been a busy week at the hospital which started with a few major road crashes with nine people being admitted all at once and people milling everywhere. It is only when one works in a busy hospital that you can understand just how hard the staff work especially in the emergency area. I have been called out a few times to the emergency area. Once I was called out because a patient would not allow the staff to do anything until they had seen the priest. I had to convince the patient that the doctors and nurses knew what they were doing and that it was in their best interest to let them proceed. They say that all life passes through a hospital and it sure does. It is certaintly an eye opener being a semi-full time chaplain.
I take my days off during the week Tuesday and Wednesday and this gives me a break and also time that I can spend with uncle. This week we went to a beautiful place called Akaroa and spent a couple of days there. We stayed in a Bed and Breakfast there the Maples which was very nice. When I told the Lady running the place a Mrs Norman, that I was a Catholic priest she said that she was an RC which pleased me until she said that meant she was a Retired Catholic. It turned out that her three brothers actually worked in the same factory as uncle Arnett and he knew them, and that she went to school with Arnett’s step daughter. What a small world.
The weather was really hot and sunny the first day which made the place sparkle. The only cloudy issue was the New Zealanders attitude to customer relationships. The majority of them who work in shops and eating places seem to have the idea that the customer either takes it or leaves and it is too much hasle when they start asking questions or even worse complaining. They really take the hump if you challenge their attitude. It is rare to come across a helpful shop or eating assistant, unless they are Asian, who nearly always are extremely polite and helpful and never make you feel that you are a pain, even though you may be. To me that is the sign of a good sales person. I must say that not all New Zealanders are like that but they are many who are, which is such a shame as they have a beautiful country.
posted by Fr Kevin @ 8:06 am
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