Dr Liz Gordon – Broken Society

A few years ago I wrote an article about a ride on the 486 bus from Symonds Street to Prestons Road (you know, in Otara), and the changing population that inhabited the bus as it moved south.  I still remember that ride. I sat by a sign taped onto the window advertising loans for people who need to ‘go to the Islands’, no doubt forcing poor Pasifika families into the slavery of extortionate loan repayments mandated by extremely poor legislative controls on that industry.

I was also part of a research project noting how schools bent and distorted their enrolment zones to include the wealthier areas around them and exclude the poorer, thus gaming the system.  That study concentrated in the Eastern suburbs, where very poor areas (e.g. Glen Innes) lie side by side with great wealth. And ne’er the twain shall meet, as it were.

So it was with interest that I found myself on a train from Britomart to Glen Innes station, visiting some people at the University of Auckland’s Tamaki campus.  I like public transport, and generally prefer it to taxis. Also, at $5.50, you cannot beat the value.

The ride is great, along the waterfront with better views than one can get from cars.  Glen Innes station was clean and well-populated at first look. I couldn’t see an exit so I followed an older Chinese bloke.  He started heading down a slope into what looked like Utter Darkness. I asked him if this was the way out, and he nodded. Would he show me?  Yes, he would (all of this without a word – who needs language to make themselves understood?)

So we walked down the slope into the underpass. Those of you who remember the pass of Cirith Ungol in the Lord of the Rings will get the point.  It was dark and very smelly, and I just knew that Shelob, the giant spider that inhabits the way, was lurking in the shadows.

Yes, there was lighting, but even in the daylight it barely penetrated the gloom. I stuck close to my little Chinese guide, and was pleased to get out into the sunshine (thanking him wordlessly, nod and nod).  The town centre of Glen Innes. And what a difference from the shiny town centre of Auckland city that I had just left. In what follows, I want to make it clear that my observations are about differences and inequalities.  This is not a discourse of derision.

The first sight of Glen Innes is a shock, coming out of the ten minute ride from Auckland Central.  I spend quite a lot of time in Manukau and that area looks wealthy compared to Glen Innes. The first thing that struck me (as my heartbeat calms down after surviving the spider’s lair) was the smoking.  In particular, the first three people I saw were sitting on a handy little wall puffing away. They were very helpful in telling me where I could find the University campus (puff, puff).

The second view showed a taxi rank.  Auckland has a great inequality in taxi companies, from the large and affluent to the mundane to the old junker companies, which are cheap but not very posh.  The three taxis on the rank were of the latter type. Most of the shops were of the thrift shop, or discount, varieties. One ‘bakery’ I looked into was not full of the delicate Parisian pastries of the city, but of fried foods in warming stations around the room.  The other bakery looked similar.

There was a small independent supermarket, where I ventured for some water, with aisles of quite interesting ethnic foods.  Lots of Pasifika things, too, like varieties of Taro, and red onions at $2.49 per kilo (they are at least double that in Christchurch) (I did not load up my bag as I did not want to arrive at my appointment smelling of onions) (though I was tempted).

There was one large shiny building and that was Work and Income, with the obligatory security guard outside as an official reminder that THEY are scared of US.  And quite rightly so, too, given the propensity of that agency to judge and control lives. Opposite that was the Tamaki regeneration project, which works with youth, employment and various ethnic communities to make a difference.  There was, inevitably, a pay day loan outfit in prominent premises on the street. Maccas, KFC, Pizza Hut (ubiquitous).

Such contrasts.  The Remuera golf club is less than a kilometre down the road but here we are in a suburb showing unmistakeable signs of poverty (but none that I could see of crime or disorder, although this is apparently a high crime area – perhaps the spider dunnit).

Geez.  Fix that underpass.  Good LED lighting, some signage so people know where to go. For a start.  Then fix inequality and poverty (but we won’t go there today). The people appeared lovely.  Fix the system!