Auckland, New Zealand, Zip Code: 0626
Four years ago, as my flight touched down in Auckland, I looked out the window at the rolling green hills and the city stretching toward the ocean. The landscape was breathtaking, but my mind was tangled with uncertainty. This was a country I had never visited before, a culture I had only read about, and a place where I knew almost no one.
Back in India, life was predictable in the best way. The aroma of fresh chai in the morning, honking rickshaws weaving through traffic, the warmth of family dinners—it was home in every sense. Auckland, by contrast, felt quiet, almost too quiet. The silence of my apartment was unsettling, and I missed the background hum of daily life in India. The initial days were tough, filled with bouts of homesickness and self-doubt. But slowly, I started finding pieces of home in this new land—through people, food, and unexpected adventures.
Aotea Square
Finding My People: The Indian Diaspora in Auckland
Like many newcomers, my first instinct was to seek familiarity. That search led me straight to Sandringham Road, Auckland’s little India. The moment I stepped onto that street, I felt a sense of belonging. The air was filled with the scent of sizzling samosas, freshly fried pakoras, and rich, spiced curries. Shop windows displayed vibrant sarees, stacks of spices, and Bollywood DVDs. Conversations in Hindi, Punjabi, and Gujarati floated around me, making me feel, for the first time, that I wasn’t alone.
Through a mutual friend, I was introduced to a group of Indian expats who met regularly for chai and weekend cricket matches at Eden Park. These meetups became my anchor, turning lonely weekends into social gatherings filled with laughter and nostalgia. Festivals like Diwali at Aotea Square and Holi at Western Springs brought the Indian community together, reminding me that while I was far from home, I was never truly alone.
But the most surprising part? The warmth of the Kiwi-Indian community—people who had lived in New Zealand for decades but still held onto their Indian heritage. They shared their stories of arriving here in the 80s and 90s, facing their own struggles of adapting, and how they had built a thriving Indian identity within a Kiwi lifestyle. Their resilience and warmth inspired me, showing me that home is not just a place—it’s the people who make it feel like one.
Falling for New Zealand’s Landscapes
While the Indian community provided comfort, it was New Zealand’s natural beauty that truly stole my heart. I had seen photos of Milford Sound, Rotorua, and Mount Cook, but nothing could prepare me for the real thing.
One of my first trips was a ferry ride to Waiheke Island, just 40 minutes from Auckland. The beaches were unlike anything I had ever seen—crystal-clear waters, golden sands, and vineyards stretching over rolling hills. That day, sitting on a quiet beach, I realized I had spent too much time missing what I had left behind instead of embracing where I was.
Road trips became my new love language with New Zealand. I marveled at the boiling mud pools of Rotorua, hiked through the volcanic peaks of Tongariro, and watched the night sky turn into a celestial masterpiece at Lake Tekapo. The South Island, with its towering mountains and pristine fjords, felt like another world altogether.
Waiheke Island
Even within Auckland, nature was never far away. Piha Beach with its black sand and dramatic waves, the peaceful trails of Waitākere Ranges, and the view from Mount Eden after a sunset hike—these became my weekend escapes.
As someone who grew up in the dense, bustling streets of India, New Zealand’s open landscapes felt like a dream. Here, the air smelled of the ocean, the roads stretched endlessly with barely another car in sight, and silence was not emptiness but a kind of peace I had never known.
A Culinary Adventure: Mixing the Familiar with the New
Food has always been my strongest connection to home. In my early days in Auckland, I survived on home-cooked dal and rice, missing the street food chaos of India. But as I explored, I discovered a fascinating blend of flavors—some familiar, some completely new.
I had my first Kiwi meat pie at a small bakery in Devonport. The buttery, flaky crust and the rich filling instantly won me over. Then came the classic fish and chips, best enjoyed straight from the paper while watching the waves crash at Mission Bay. But the most fascinating experience was trying a traditional Māori hangi, where meat and vegetables are slow-cooked underground. The smoky, earthy flavors were unlike anything I had tasted before.
At the same time, New Zealand has embraced Indian cuisine in ways that surprised me. Butter chicken is practically a national dish here, and Indian-Kiwi fusion is everywhere—butter chicken pies, spiced lamb burgers, and even mango lassi gelato! Finding authentic Indian food was easy, too, with places like Paradise in Sandringham serving biryanis that could rival those back home.
Kiwi meat pie
Food became my bridge between the old and the new. Cooking Indian dishes at home while exploring Kiwi flavors outside helped me embrace both identities—Indian at heart, but with a growing love for my new homeland.
More Than a Place, It’s Home
One of the things I love most about New Zealand is its way of life. The work-life balance is real. People leave their offices on time, weekends are meant for adventure, and there’s a deep respect for nature and culture. Unlike the hustle of Indian cities, life here is unhurried. People take time to chat, greet strangers with a smile, and genuinely care about whānau (family) and manaakitanga (hospitality).
Four years ago, I arrived in Auckland with uncertainty. Today, I walk through the streets with familiarity, greet people in Māori with a cheerful “Kia ora!”, and know exactly where to go when I crave a steaming plate of pani puri.
I still miss India—the festivals, the crowded markets, the late-night chai with friends. But I’ve also fallen in love with New Zealand’s landscapes, its culture, and the warmth of the people who have welcomed me. Somewhere between the Diwali celebrations in Auckland and hikes in the Waitākere Ranges, between the spice of a homemade curry and the crispness of a fish and chips meal on the beach, I realized—I hadn’t just moved countries.
I had found another home.
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