Dialogue: Terror inspires love for home

By SANDY BURGHAM

For those of us who are too young to be part of the "where were you when you heard" generation of either a) Pearl Harbour or b) John F. Kennedy's death, we have just been witnesses to what will be the news event of our lifetime, snapping us out of our self-indulgent individualism and disconnectedness with global politics.

Now it has become part of every social and professional exchange to process our feelings and opinions about that fateful day of September 11 and the impending consequences.

We thought the death of Diana was big, yet this evokes much more than sadness. Now we must contend with all sorts of feelings never before dredged up by a news event-outrage: solidarity, cowardice, fear and even a new love for our country drained of brain and heavy in debt.

We were sunning ourselves in the South Sea islands paradise of Fiji when we heard. A surreal moment when one could watch the news domino from deckchair to deckchair around the pool.

It was a turning point in the holiday. It was as if a course of shock treatment had been prescribed to jolt us out of total relaxation and happiness at regular intervals. We started to schedule CNN updates between golf, swims and beach massages.

But mainly it marked the about-turn of our feelings towards our homeland. Admittedly, we had spent the first five days in Fiji slagging off New Zealand with its inconsistent weather and geographic isolation.

We had bemoaned our fellow citizens: why couldn't they be more like Fijians, a constantly smiling populace who are not backward in coming forward to say "bula". (In fact, we suspected that the Minister of Tourism was giving out automatic bonuses to people who hit a thousand bulas.)

Who wants the landscape out of The Piano anyway? It's cold, rough and uninviting. Three cheers for the gently swaying coconut palms and warm, crystalline waters of Fiji. Let's come and live here! (Always a good idea at the time.)

But it took only one news item to abruptly change our minds.

Fiji was meant to be our stopover on the way to a further break in California. Because of the United States airspace closure, we were forced to reconsider the rest of the holiday.

While there are worse places than Fiji in which to be stranded during a global crisis, the hyperreal CNN coverage, which seemed to resemble Hollywood action movies in a bizarre life-imitates-art way, made me a little jumpy.

I started nervously eating my way through the stash of chocolate fish, minties and pineapple lumps we were to have taken to our friend in LA. I needed them more than her. I was comfort-eating our national fare. I hadn't figured that Fiji would not be top of the terrorist priority list.

It's just that when one is a little insecure, there's no place like home. The slightly murky city beaches and static cabbage trees of our nondescript suburbs never seemed so inviting before. Take me back to the cosy cul de sac and the familiar rut I was trying to escape.

Our initial lust for Fiji waned in direct parallel to the unfolding preparation for a global war. I felt increasingly uncomfortable drinking cocktails out of hollowed coconuts garnished with a fiesta of straws and umbrellas while watching CNN on the big screen in the bar.

So we struck on a date for our return to New Zealand and while we were blessed with bonus days in what must be one of the world's most idyllic holiday destinations, we ended up really looking forward to getting back.

On our return, the first local news we heard was about our national carrier and the revelation that it, too, was in the New Zealand way - heavy in debt.

But as I considered hedging my frequent flyer bets with another carrier, I experienced an uncharacteristic bout of selfless patriotism.

They may have screwed up in Australia, they may have an annoying voice-mail system on their air points phone number, but which New Zealander who has been away at a time of crisis or been delayed in a crowded foreign airport wants to fly home with anyone else?

Oh to tumble into the arms of the airline with the warmest welcome and hear the comforting familiarity of flat vowels. It's more than an airline that brings the tourist dollar to New Zealand, it's the only airline that can really bring New Zealanders home.