Poppies of Remembrance
Today is Wednesday April 25th. ANZAC Day. As a foreigner in New Zealand, or as I like to think of myself, a modern-day Pakeha, when talk of ANZAC Day became more frequent I searched for some sort of reference point to base my expectations off of. Some likened it to the 4 th of July while others said it was more like a September 11 th memorial service. I got the distinct feeling that those we made these suggestions had been to neither. So with no real enlightenment I set my expectations high for a true glimpse of what it means to be a New Zealander, set my alarm for 5 a.m. When it went off it was easy to hit snooze about 7 times and list countless reasons why being in my bed was so much better than not. But I heard murmur of people in the street bellow and the door of one of my neighbors open and close so I knew I wouldn’t be alone in the whole ordeal and finally dragged myself upright. I poked my head out the window for a peak and was pleasantly surprised to find a meandering but c...