Getting to know your neighbours

These days, our neighbourliness perhaps revolves more around networks than the classic "over the fence" chat.

As we head towards Neighbours' Day this Saturday, I find it difficult to gauge the level of "neighbourliness" in Wairarapa in terms of its urban setting.

I have no doubt that among the rural community, neighbours are everything and there are countless occasions when they are relied on. But in urban situations, where sometimes we can feel like we are already on top of each other, we draw the curtains and build two-metre fences for privacy. We don't really need help with keeping our properties, minute in comparison to the size of a farm, in order - apart from asking the couple next door if they can feed the cat if you're away.

In Wellington, the suburb of Tawa prides itself on having about 20 street barbecues on Neighbours' Day, often in cul-de-sacs. Wairarapa is somewhat short of quiet cul-de-sacs, but I've always liked the idea.

However, the concept of knowing your neighbour has value beyond a social barbecue, borrowing a cup of sugar (do people really do that?) or feeding next door's cat. When I lived in Wellington, there was a reasonable fear of burglars when you went away on holiday, so arrangements were made to park your own car in their driveway to keep up appearances of a busy house. Knowing your neighbours means you also know what is standard and normal for their routines - essentially, what feels right. So when a white van parks up in their driveway in broad daylight and guys start loading stuff up, it will feel out of kilter. One thing I always remember a police officer telling me is, they'd rather be called than not called. If all is innocent, there's no harm done.

These days, our neighbourliness perhaps revolves more around networks than the classic "over the fence" chat.

Plunket, which my sister works for, is a good example of creating support networks for mothers.

But the great thing about neighbours is proximity. There may be neighbours in your street who are elderly and will be fragile in a stressful situation, such as an earthquake. They will take a lot of comfort in having a connection with the people on the street.

It's far too easy to isolate yourself, not because we're insular, but because sometimes our lives are so full that it's too much effort to add more connections. But when you share a street, you'll be surprised to find how much you have in common with your neighbours. You'll also enjoy a sense of knowing someone's got your back.