Heidi, I know exactly what you mean.
There is so, so, so much to adore about NZ. It's everything you hear, and more. I have no doubt my short time here has forever changed me, and Chch has set a high standard for wherever I may next find myself. And believe me ... the only thing I dread more than the 13 hour flight back to the US is the prospect of another New England winter (too cold) or a Midwest summer (too hot) because here it's just right. (I feel like Goldilocks
)
And man oh man do I dread the possibility of being sucked back into that American lifestyle ... work, consume, work, consume, work, consume ... die.
But, who knows ... our adventure isn't over *yet* and may still work out for the better. I'm keeping that door open. We wanted adventure, after all, and that's what we're getting. No regrets.
BTW, I *love* Canada (except for the weather). It was our visits to Montreal that opened my eyes to the possibility that another way of life might be worth exploring. I'll always carry with me the memory of walking through the Underground City a couple of days after Christmas and seeing a clerk in one of the menswear stores happily whistling as he folded sweaters. Sappy, I know, but it made me look around and realize the palpable difference in attitude of those around me. I was like 'Wow, you mean people *don't* have to be miserable all the time?'
But there's the weather thing--if Paris is the City of Lights, Montreal is the City of Slush.
I'll also never forget this kid I saw in full hip-hop regalia, big puffy white coat and white hat, hit a patch of ice on the sidewalk and do a pratfall in front of all his buddies. His attitude when he got up was priceless--trying not to laugh and be all tough and at the same time just p-o-ed about it all even though he did have to admit it was pretty funny.
Alright, one more I-love-Canada story, again in Montreal: At the hotel desk, the American woman in front of me asked the Asian girl behind the counter, 'Do you speak English?' I'm thinking, 'God, please take me out of this line, or make me invisible, or just let the world end now because I don't want to have to be lumped in the same category as that jackass when I step up to the desk.'
The girl behind the counter took it all in stride though. She smiled and said, 'Here in Montreal you'll find that most of us speak many languages.' Her class and grace made stop feeling ashamed to be an American and made me proud to be a human being.