0 for people to even start showing up, but clearly we were mistaken.One by one cars pulled in and one by one local kiwis, young and old, came up to the sign in table to introduce themselves and get started planting. The best part about this was that parents would come walking up with a spade in one hand and child's hand tightly clasped to the other. Even the kids were excited about planting. We had the little ones wear the bright vests that we had been wearing, with Dave's reason being so we wouldn't lose them in the brush. Valid point. Although it made me wonder if they made us wear them too because we had the potential to get lost. Well, if so, good call, because all eight of us North Americans tend to wander.
When it looked like all the locals were here, we all congregated in the fields to plant side-by-side with them. It was amazing to hear their stories, all unique in their own way. I have to admit that it was quite funny to hear all the older locals talk about retirement ages in other countries and how retirement doesn't mean anything. "Idol hands only get into mischief," one said. Ha ha good advice. I'll remember that one. But perhaps the most interesting person I spoke to today was a woman who had lived in the Punakaiki area her entire life. She was here when the site was being considered as a mining place for ilmenite [a mineral used in pigments and paint]. She was one of the first environmental activists to protest the mining idea. She was here through it all. Standing there with her, ankle deep in marsh, it was an eye opening experience for me and it never would have happened had I not been here volunteering.
Plant by plant, the once empty area we had seen all week planting was suddenly starting to fill. We gave planting demos and helped the little ones plant [although those seven-year-olds seemed to know more than we did]. Finally it was time for smoko, our favorite time of the day, and boy was it tasty. Scones, muffins, cookies, biscuits, tea, and coffee. Boy, smoko on Monday is going to look measly compared to this. In any case, it was a nice little break. We got back to work planting and mingling. By the time noon came around, the 1000 trees we had set out for the day were in the ground, in their new homes and we were
once again floored at the work we accomplished in just one day. "We planted 30 trees!" one of the young ones said about his work for the day. "And we planted the last one, too!" They were excited. And so were we.That sense of community ownership that we had been talking about in discussions all week was finally starting to make sense. These people, though apart of a tiny community, wanted a hand in what would happen to their environment, their habitat, their neighbors [the petrels] habitat. And even though we were strangers from another country, they were grateful that we were there too.
After cleaning up and heading home, our week of work, rain, plants, and mud was finished, but we couldn't wait for Monday to come so we could continue. But ya know, as I sat in the van on the way back, I couldn't help but remember one moment that stuck out in my head from the day. It came from Sam, the one who has been here since the beginning. We were nearing the end of planting and I just so happen to be near him as he was crouched next to a treelet, spade in hand, in awe at what he saw. He knew what this site looked like before anything was done to it. He was here when there was no visible parking lot, no visible gardens, gorse over taking the fields. But as he sat there and looked, you could tell he was happy. He mentioned how amazing it was to finally see the place covered in trees, finally see a seven-month long vision take place. Once again, it just made sense for me.
So many moment at that planting day reminded me that this is what I want to do with my life, be it in any form. Whether I am writing for a publication, or just volunteering, I'll be happy. And in the end, is that not what we all are striving for?
The answer is yes.
