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As a New Zealander I have never really understood what it means to be from New Zealand. Of course, if you asked me when I lived in New Zealand I might have told you things about Maori culture, or our anti-nuclear stance. But I didn’t really know. I knew we were a young nation and I wasn’t sure that was something to be proud of.

The thing was I grew up on the North Shore of Auckland City where the only Maori culture I knew were some of the friends I had at school at Glenfield Primary, and the kids from South Auckland who threateningly admired my shoes whenever we played against them in basketball. And I knew we were anti-nuclear, but no-one I knew had come up with that idea.

When I went overseas I knew I’d be kind of homesick, miss my family, my friends, my church, that sort of thing. And then one night in London I watched Home, Land & Sea by Trinity Roots. And I missed home. I mean, I missed home. A deep down feeling that hurts in a way that isn’t physical. I cried into my pillow. I felt embarassed about crying into my pillow, so I tried to muffle it so my flatmate in the room next door wouldn’t hear.

What I hadn’t expected was a feeling that made me want to bury my fingers in the soil of home. To run down to water on a hot summer’s day at Omaha Beach. I wanted to turn on the TV and find John & Hilary pulling some terrified humble Kiwi up on stage to ask them if they wanted the Money Or The Bag. To listen to the warm chuckle of a Maori fella. I suddenly wanted all of it back again.

There is a moment in this live version of Home, Land & Sea, at about 4 minutes, 44 seconds that gets me every time. The toi-toi, the waters, the hills. There is nowhere like it in the world. I realise now it is the earth in which my roots run down into. Its colours, flavours & sounds run through my veins. It is a meaningful, permanent, inscrutable part of who I am. And that’s true.

Source: YouTube

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