Murupara 2

Saturday.

I am exhausted.  I am not sure how people manage to live like this.  If you need anything, you have to travel 50kms each way to Rotorua.  The local shops are so expensive.  I wanted to get some nurofen today for my aching joints- so it was off to Rotorua.  They cost twice as much as in Australia.  Now I can see why so many diabetics around here are ‘non-practising’.  They take their pills every second day to save money.  I saw one patient getting a growling, and she was on older lady, but no one thought to ask her if she was feeding mokopuna (grandchildren), etc.  This scene could have been in an Aboriginal setting as well.

We got a car today. We went into Rotorua to a place where people are allowed to bring their cars and sell them privately.  There is a sign stating buyers need to check papers, police reports etc.  We were there at 8am, and got a car immediately.  It was $2100, but is registered until August – so I am hoping it will last until then as we go home after that!  The seller was an Indian chappie and he was really nice and I can just tell he is honest, so we are not worried.  I wouldn’t like to break down around here though.  It would be a long, cold walk home!

I saw a homeless Maori man this morning.  I wanted to buy him breakfast, but Papa wouldn’t let me, so I snuck him mine while Papa wasn’t looking.  I know I can’t feed all of the homeless in the world, but at least today, one homeless fella got a MacDonald’s’ breakfast.

We went to visit Papa’s mum in the nursing home today.  Hey, the name of the Maori wing in this NH is Mai Moa- roughly translated it means ‘from prehistoric times’.  I cracked up laughing.  I asked Mum what she thought of the name, and she just laughed.  I can’t imagine why anyone would have thought that would have been where Maori would want their treasured elders to live under this sign. 

This is the first weekend I have been here.  I can hear very noisy parties and I am hoping the kids are ok.  Where’s Marcia Langton when you need her, eh!  We can’t go for walks after dark here, or even at dusk, according to Papa.  I don’t think he is frightened for himself.  It feels like home to me though – Alice is a no-go area for women after dusk as well.  He is more worried about cars – some of the drivers are likely to miss the road (sic).

We are worried about our son.  It is never easy to leave home, regardless of how old the ‘child’ is.  I know my parents concern for me never ended with any birthday I might have had.  I am walking through the valley of the shadow of death as I trust a Heavenly Father to care for this precious son.