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ささいなことだけど
先月の旧正月を、筆者は家族が暮らすニュージーランドのウェリントンで過ごした。
ウェリントンには、バスの運転手と乗客が言葉を交わす風景があり、海辺で楽しむフィッシュ&チップスがあり、ランニングシューズをはいて通勤する人たちがいる。
そうした当たり前のことの一つ一つが自分にとって大切だったことに改めて気付かされた2週間の帰省となった。
The little things
I recently spent two weeks visiting friends and family in New Zealand. The journey from London to Wellington was the longest I have ever taken. It was made a bit easier by having the luxury of a giant, crystal-clear personal TV screen during the first leg of the journey. During the second leg, the airplane was an older model, which meant it was back to standard, palm-sized screens. I had already grown attached to my large screen and felt a little sad at its loss. Missing something as trivial as a TV screen made me wonder — what was I going to miss about Wellington?
I didn't realize how much I missed the bus-riding culture in Wellington. In London, as in Osaka and Tokyo, it is very rare to see passengers thanking their bus drivers. Exchanges between driver and passenger in those big cities are generally silent, unless something goes wrong. In Wellington, I had a heart-warming moment when I saw a young child, after encouragement from her mother, thank her bus driver in a loud voice before she hopped off.
It's these little things about being home that make it "home." Things like enjoying a packet of fish and chips by the ocean. Or the sound of a lawn mower on a sunny day; or people wearing running shoes with their business suits when walking to or from work. Even when gusts of wind were blowing rain horizontally into me at a bus shelter, I couldn't help but smile a little.
Being back in New Zealand also made me realize that "home" is where the peculiarities of family become endearing rather than strange. One example of this is the relationship my dad has with our house. The last time I was back in New Zealand, my dad had used a water blaster to write the words "Welcome to our home!" on our driveway. On this last visit, he had placed by the front entrance a small, red, motion-sensing stuffed toy monkey that wolf whistles every time someone walks past it. Odd? Perhaps. Home? Definitely. I can only hope he understands I was joking when I suggested he paint our house number on the roof so that I can see it from the air whenever I fly in.
There's an expression, "you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone," which works in the case of my in-flight TV screen. It had been three years since I last visited New Zealand, but while I was away, I don't think I consciously missed what I'd had. But having spent time with friends, family and in the city, I realized that it's more that I didn't know what I had until I saw it again.
- having the luxury of 〜
- 〜というぜいたくが許されること
- crystal-clear
- 鮮明な画像の
- first leg
- (トランジットまでの)最初の一区間
- it was back to 〜
- 〜への逆戻りだった
- palm-sized
- 手のひらサイズの
- (had) grown attached to 〜
- 〜が好きになってしまっていた
- at its loss
- それがないのを
- trivial
- 取るに足らない
- miss
- 〜がないのをさみしく思う
- Exchanges
- やりとり
- unless something goes wrong
- 何か問題が起こらなければ
- encouragement
- 優しくうながされること
- hopped off
- (乗降口から)飛び降りた
- a packet of 〜
- 一包みの〜
- by the ocean
- 海岸沿いで
- lawn mower
- 電動芝刈り機
- gusts of wind
- 突風
- bus shelter
- 待合所
- couldn't help but 〜
- 〜するほかはなかった
- peculiarities
- 変わったところ
- endearing
- 愛情のこもった
- water blaster
- 高圧洗浄機
- driveway
- 私道
- front entrance
- 正面玄関
- motion-sensing stuffed toy monkey
- 人感センサーで動くサルのぬいぐるみ
- wolf whistles
- (称賛の)口笛を吹く
- Odd?
- 変かな?く
- house number
- 住居番号、番地
- fly in
- 飛行機で帰ってくる
- in-flight
- 機内の
- consciously
- 意識的に
- I realized that it's more that I didn't know what I had until I saw it again
- 改めて見るまで、自分が何に恵まれていたのか分かっていなかったんじゃないかということの方を、実感した