For somewhere so close, it seemed so far. From my window, I can see the hill it hides behind, yet it may as well be somewhere else entirely.
Wainuiomata community workers Teez and Eize. Photo: Unknown
Wainuiomata seemed enough like a suburb of Wellington; a town of 17,000 people connected to the rest of the world by a four lane highway with a regular bus service, yet its separation and isolation made it seem like a different world entirely.
I’d only been here a few times before. My most enduring memory being as an eight or nine-year-old coming over for a football game and encountering a goalie who, it seemed, was about as large as the goal and just as intimidating.
The town was mostly built in a single burst after the Second World War and attracted a number of young families who earned it the name “Nappy Valley”. It’s still this way, with about a third of the town being under 25.
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Rows and rows of similar looking weatherboard houses with large quarter-acre sections line streets organised like an Octopus’ tentacles, spreading out from the town centre to fill as much of the valley floor as the imposing bush-clad hills surrounding will allow.
It had schools, vast sports fields and a typical suburban centre with a library, supermarket, skatepark, McDonald’s and a half-abandoned mall that looked like it hadn’t seen a coat of paint since the summer of ’82.
It was once an industrial hub with factories, warehouses and a bustling industrial area. However, it’s encountered tough times in the past 20 years, with businesses fleeing the valley leaving behind a problem of underemployment and low incomes.
I came over here with some friends once when I was at high school for a walk in the nearby Rimutaka Forest Park. “If you ever need somewhere to make you feel good about living in Upper Hutt, just come here” we’d say as we’d pass through, looking down upon it with the kind of scorn typical of those who’d only heard of the place through its reputation and stereotypes.
“The town centre could be better,” said Campbell Barry, a 23-year-old Hutt City Councillor who was born and bred in Wainuiomata. “There’s a number of different challenges, but there’s also a number of opportunities,” he said as he talked excitedly about plans to build a large retirement village and a new subdivision to the north, which is hoped to turn the town’s fortune around.
“There are certainly perceptions and there are stereotypes of what Wainuiomata’s like,” he said. “And all I say to those people who cast those stereotypes is: Come over the hill, come have a beer with me and we’ll show you what it’s really like.”
While he provided no beer, he did show us what it’s really like by taking us to the Wainuiomata Recreation Area, at the base of the rugged and imposing Rimutaka ranges.
“Wainui’s biggest, best kept secret would be the outdoors, absolutely. Many people don’t realise what we have to offer here. The swimming holes, the black sand beaches, the fantastic lookouts, all of the walking tracks and mountain biking, you know, that is really the best kept secret.”
It was a town wrapped in nature’s unescapable embrace. Every direction you looked you were confronted with it. But for Campbell Barry, it wasn’t that which made it special for him. It was the people.
The isolation and seclusion of Wainuiomata had bred hardy, friendly people who were all connected. It was a suburb that felt like a small town, and its friendly nature was shown one Friday night at the premier social venue: the rugby league club.
The club was typical of most, steeped in tradition, memorabilia and a stale odour of boots and beer that had been spilled on to the worn carpet over many years. Portraits of various teams plastered the walls, while ribbons, shields and trophies filled any other space. From outside, the chatter and laughter shattered the silent night, as the warm glow of the lights inside shone onto the wide open fields.
Going around the clubroom, asking people what it was that made Waimuiomata different or special, the answer I got was always the same:
“Whanau,” said one person.
“It’s all about whanau,” said another.
“We’re like a big family here, everyone here knows each other and even if you aren’t related you feel like whanau,” said another.
As Teez, a local community worker and musician put it: “You go anywhere in Wainuiomata and if you don’t know their name, you just call them ‘cuz’, or ‘aunty’ or ‘uncle’, then you’ve just about got it.”
Her bandmate Eize said: “It’s good to have people viewing it in a negative way because it protects Wainui as its own secret treasure for the whanau that live here and make it something special.”
Eize was right. It was a special place with special people. While some of the residents may be marching through adversity, the bond that tied people together held strong and tried to ensure that nobody fell through the gaps.
Even for outsiders, going over the hill and talking to the people who make this place is a special experience. And if a misanthrope like me can feel the love, anyone can.
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