At the end of 2020, during the Covid pandemic, my husband, Brendon, and I packed up our lives and moved with our four children to Auckland, New Zealand. Our then 9-year-old triplets (Ronan, Kait and Owen) and our 6-year-old son, Finn, took their first long international flight with us, and we started our life in New Zealand in the managed isolation facility. I’m a pathologist and was offered a job that I could not refuse. We saw it as a new adventure and opportunity to explore new cultures and parts of our beautiful world.
Assured that the Kiwis also speak English, our children ventured off to school and came home looking rather confused. Cossies became “togs”, slip slops are “jandals”, a jersey is a “jumper” and a bakkie is a…