I never met a Kiwi I didn’t like

Mrs. Doleman was someone of incredible character. As an eighth-grade English teacher, one needed to have an unlimited supply of patience to deal with these pesky adolescents. She introduced us to James Joyce. She made us listen to U2’s Sunday Bloody Sunday to help us understand Irish history. And she knew exactly when to be fun and when to give us our much-needed dose of discipline.  She was the one who encouraged me to write and always did so with a smile. Her husband, Mr. Doleman, was a PE coach. He was funny, friendly and full of energy. Every time it was national day he would walk around the campus in his PE shorts and T-shirt with a Maori grass-sort-of-looking skirt and teach anyone who was willing the haka.

This past year, my encounters with people from New Zealand have been frequent. At the end of last year I spent much of my time at the Langham Food and Wine Festival in awe of the amazing wines and the fabulous produce of the country. On my last trip to San Francisco, we happened to catch the America’s Cup finals between the American Oracle boat and New Zealand teams purely by chance. The agile boats, moving at breakneck speeds, swerving just at the right moment set against the backdrop of a glorious Indian summer’s day and a bright shiny Golden Gate Bridge. Not a cloud in sight, it was absolutely stunning weather and an exhilarating race. We then popped over to this warehouse by the bay where the New Zealand delegation had built a wonderful popup restaurant using their produce and chefs, the menu designed to be drunk with different kinds of rich Moa beer. From a surprisingly un-gamey and fresh venison tartare, to a velvety New Zealand salmon and lovely oysters, the food truly showcased what the stunning country was capable of. The ambience was equally great. The beer-fueled crowd of sailors cheering enthusiastically eventually decided to remove their shirts and perform a spontaneous haka for the whole bar. The odd ones out (the crowd was mostly sailors, their crew and supporters) we felt right at home, the air filled with friendliness and cheer.

More than the beauty of the country (from what I’ve heard) or its produce, it’s the kindness and warmth of the people from there that always amazes me. I can honestly say that I have never met a Kiwi I didn’t like. Always polite but not stiff, fun but never aggressive and good mix of mischief and composure. One of them is Ambassador Reuben Levermore and, like most ambassadors, he is open, charming and intelligent. He is, however, not stuffy, lots of fun and unusually young, taking the Philippines as his first post, marking what I hope to be a new trend in diplomacy — seeing the Philippines as a priority to focus energy on rather than just being an afterthought or an easy pre-retirement post. When we first met, we discussed at length how New Zealand, often overlooked, can be a great partner for the Philippines in terms of development, business, education and, of course, cultural exchanges.  He also takes a different approach to hosting diplomatic parties — making them usually intimate and centered around fun activities like a rugby match teaching some local kids from a foundation to perform the haka or a nice soiree to showcase wine. We were once at a party that had no apparent reason except “just because” — a great opportunity to mix, mingle, network, and meet other Kiwis in a no-tie, relaxed setting.

Last week I was graciously invited to try Greywacke Wines. Winemakers Kevin Judd and his wife Kate are, in fact, Australians that have made New Zealand their home for the past 20 or so years. He moved in 1983 to work with Cloudy Bay, one of the most internationally popular labels of the country, and decided to establish his own in 2009, taking the name of the country’s unique bedrock. Shy but passionate, he speaks volumes through his extraordinary vineyard photos and expresses himself through his wines. A full range of single-grape varieties, Greywacke wines are easy to drink but not necessarily simplistic: a great, soft Riesling to open the palate, a gentle Pinot Noir and a characteristically crisp and refreshing Sauvignon Blanc. The star, however, of his collection is his Wild Sauvignon, fermented in old oak barrels using yeast. This renders a nutty, toasty and rich white wine that has all the character to rival the usual Chardonnay in pairing with creamier, more consequent dishes. When tasting the two sauvignon wines, the differences are distinct to even the most inexperienced nose. They are a good example of what the future of New World wines could be — a testament to technique and respect of tradition, and the freedom of creativity that comes from making wines in a region free from Old World rules. It reminded me somewhat of the Beatles breaking with tradition, creating new chords and a completely new sound.

Perhaps the Wild Sauvignon is a good representation of what I perceive New Zealand and its people and culture to be. A strong acceptance and ownership of history and tradition, even embracing fully the local Maori culture, combined with an enthusiasm for the new and overall spirit of adventure. Complex, sophisticated and a touch of old world but friendly, affable and just the right amount of nutty.