After failing to find any mah jong players in Howick, Bruce Munro then wonders if he is drawing a long bow on income inequality. Immigration and impulsivity are in the headlights as the nationwide Kiwi identity road trip rumbles past the halfway mark.
We begin counting faces at the Botany Town Centre.
It is crude and unscientific, but illuminating.
By the time we have driven to nearby Howick in early morning suburban Auckland traffic, the pedestrian count is 2:1 in favour of Asians over Europeans.
Welcome to the new face of New Zealand.
It is the midway point on a nine-day, 5600km road trip the length and breadth of the country.
I am dragging my second-eldest, university student Elliot, along on this quest to discover who New Zealanders are and who we are becoming.
Already, we have tackled how we are shaped by the land, the ways in which we want foreigners to see us, what our treasured icons reveal about us, and the source of our melancholic psyche (The Weekend Mix, 17.1.15 and 24.1.15).
The next course in this sumptuous identity feast is immigration.
It is a spoonful some fear we are being forced to swallow without chewing.
After decades of Euro-centric immigration, Asian migrants are noticeably more numerous.
Instead of Irish and British ex-pats, Chinese and Indian nationals are now the fastest-growing groups of New Zealand newcomers.
About 12% of our population is now Asian.
In Auckland, it is double that.
Maori and Pasifika together make up another quarter of Auckland's population.
Three-quarters of the New Zealand Asian population was born overseas.
By international standards, we now qualify as ethnically ''super-diverse''.
That this is having and will have an impact on New Zealand society is undeniable.
What sort of effect, how well we are responding to it, and who it will make us, these are the pressing issues.
MURRAY CHONG
Exploration of this emotionally charged topic actually began yesterday.
After gate-crashing Colin Fredricksen's lunch break at the gargantuan car-wrecking yard Horopito Motors, near the foot of Mt Ruapehu, we headed south again through steeply hillocked farm country, emerging at coastal Wanganui.
In the late afternoon heat, we then scooted northwest, passing through Patea with its unique concrete waka made famous by the 1984 song Poi E. Elliot disavowed all knowledge of the music video that accompanied Patea Maori Club's greatest hit.
I made a mental note to rectify this gaping hole in his education.
By 5.30pm, we were in New Plymouth, there to meet a man with a strong connection to early Asian migration to New Zealand.
I knocked on the door of one Murray Chong, a direct descendant of Taranaki's foremost 19th-century Chinese immigrant, Chew Chong (Chau Tseung).
The fair-skinned man who answered the door did not look the least bit Chinese, but assured me he was indeed Chew Chong's great-grandson.
Chew Chong arrived in Dunedin in 1867, via Singapore and then Australia, from Guangzhou, China.
Fluent in spoken and written English, he shifted north, set up a fungus export business in New Plymouth and then moved into butter production.
He became a leading figure in the colony's butter industry, married Elizabeth Whatton, and was among the first Chinese to become a naturalised New Zealander.
He did not experience any direct racism, Murray said.
But, equally, he did not receive the same recognition as non-Chinese who made similar contributions to their community and their country.
Murray grew up in New Plymouth aware of his history and proud of his forebear.
A decade ago, he and several cousins got tattoos of the Chinese character for good fortune that Chew Chong had used as his signature on letters and business documents.
Murray said he did not see himself as Chinese, but then reconsidered.
''I'm very proud of where I've come from,'' the mortgage broker and New Plymouth district councillor said.
''And I do follow feng-shui and yin-yang principles, the need for balance. Zen is also a very important part of my life.
''In my 20s, I looked at the customs and beliefs of China and started to base my life around that. So I suppose there is a touch of Chinese in me.''
Murray said his great-grandfather integrated fully in New Zealand society and exemplified Kiwi values of entrepreneurship and community involvement.
He expressed concern that some recent migrants did not seem to have the same ethos.
''It's important, their culture. But they have to realise that the New Zealand way is one of the reasons they decided to come here.''
His concern seems reasonable. But is it?
Or does it betray an assumption of cultural superiority?
Elliot and I drove downtown for a quick bite to eat.
It was my choice of cuisine again after a frisbee throw-off showed the fit, strong youngster that the old dog still had a trick or two up his sleeve.
As we drove, I pondered some additional questions.
Are we inexorably becoming an Asian nation? And what is to say whether that is or is not OK?
With all this diversity, how do we determine our values and identity?
Will we end up one nation or splintered race-based factions?
We drove into the night, gratefully grabbed six hours sleep in the King Country's Otorohanga Kiwi Holiday Park and then poured ourselves back into the car for the 172km early morning hike to breakfast in Howick.
So here we are, sitting at a footpath cafe table enjoying a good eggs Benedict.
I have chosen this affluent suburb specifically because it is known nationwide by the race-based pejorative Chowick.
I am not sure what I expect; perhaps street signs in Chinese, lots of ethnic eateries and the ''twittering of sparrows'' as old men shuffle mah jong tiles beneath the trees next to the library.
The reality is that although quite a number of the shop owners and employees appear to be of Asian extraction, they are running boringly ''normal'' businesses like the Post Shop, a travel agency and this typical high street cafe.
It is time to get some perspective.
PAUL SPOONLEY
I have arranged to telephone sociologist Paul Spoonley.
Prof Spoonley is pro-vice-chancellor of humanities and social sciences at Massey University.
He is also principal investigator for a fistful of studies on immigration and ethnic issues, including a new $5.5 million government-commissioned joint Massey and Waikato universities research project.
This study is ''looking at what diversity means for how we run New Zealand and how we operate as New Zealanders'', Prof Spoonley says.
After several years of losing more people than we gained, 103,000 permanent settlers arrived in New Zealand in the year to August, Prof Spoonley says.
This is a net gain of about 45,000 people. And the trend looks set to continue, with most of the migrants from south and north Asia.
''It's a tipping point for us as a country, emerging from our colonial past, and starting to think about our place in the Asia Pacific region.''
So are we now, or going to become, an Asian nation?''No, we are not,'' he says emphatically.
''No, I think we will always be New Zealand ... but we will have much stronger connections with Asia than we had.''
The changes that have begun are likely to continue: more permanent Asian residents, a greater variety of languages being spoken, the emergence of ethnic precincts such as Auckland's Dominion Rd where up to 80% of businesses are Asian-owned, and migrants filling more of the seats in traditional New Zealand organisations such as churches.
With time, a greater proportion of Asian residents will be New Zealand-born.
They will sound and act more like Kiwis than their parents.
But they will also change this country in new ways, Prof Spoonley predicts.
Asian migrants place a high value on educational achievement, self-reliance and family.
They do not tend to indulge in this country's traditionally popular sports, including rugby.
They are likely to continue the Kiwi tradition of OE (overseas experience).
But through that will probably redirect our geo-political gaze, bringing Asia into focus as much as Europe.
We may not know who we are going to become, but by all accounts we are going about it the right way, Prof Spoonley says.
Internationally, New Zealand is well-regarded for its handling of ethnic diversity, and New Zealanders for their attitudes towards migrants.
At the end of last year, Prof Spoonley was invited to Germany to speak about the New Zealand experience.
''The question there was, why has New Zealand been so successful in terms of social cohesion, given the significant immigration of what the Canadians call 'visibly different peoples'?''
We tend not to do a lot on settling immigrants.
Our spend on immigrant settlement is comparatively low.
We also don't require immigrants to become New Zealand citizens, which is unusual.
''It reflects the fact that the immigrants who come to New Zealand tend to be wealthy and skilled.
''We pick our immigrants carefully. Skilled immigrants will have good settlement outcomes.''
So as long as migrants are skilled or well-financed, is it carte blanche for them to decide what it means to be a New Zealander?
''Well, firstly, keep in mind that someone can be both a New Zealander and Chinese, or Jewish or Samoan,'' Prof Spoonley responds.
But beyond that, being a New Zealander does mean sharing values in common, he says.
Values, for example, about the importance of democracy or the importance of respecting others.
And there are some practices and values which we do not want to see here, he adds.
Such as genital mutilation or expressing disparaging views about other ethnic communities.
Are you saying, I ask, that it can be necessary for migrants to change or drop certain practices or values in order to become a New Zealander?
''Absolutely,'' he replies.
''Remember, many of our immigrants come from monocultural societies, whereas we are super-diverse. So already that is something you need immigrants to understand, that the diversity is a positive and you treat other people with respect.
''Our education system plays a key role in socialising our immigrant children into those value sets.''
Well, that's good, I think to myself. It means at least some Kiwis must know what we stand for.
But how many of us in this country have a clear sense of what those shared values are?
Can most of us articulate them clearly, respectfully but confidently?
And if not, how can we expect newcomers to lay hold of them?
There is a lot we cannot and should not try to control about who we become as a nation, but liberal, democratic values should surely be a visible and firm foundation.
CAPE REINGA
From Howick, we drive into Auckland's CBD, where I have an intriguing interview about our fascination with dark themes (TheWeekend Mix, 24.1.15). And then it is out, over the Harbour Bridge, jostling with other vehicles on five, three and then two lanes of highway funneling us northward.
I have always loved the moment when you reach the hilltop on the northern end of the Brynderwyn Range. And this time is no different. I am excited to be on the cusp of Northland, looking down across the Waipu plains to the azure ocean in which floats the battleship profile of the Whangarei Heads and the clutch of Hen and Chicken Islands.
We consider making directly for Cape Reinga, but it is already mid-afternoon. Besides which, the prospect of taking the scenic east coast route and stopping at Mangonui for the country's best fish and chips is too tempting.
Towards dusk, we pull into a gorgeous wee camping ground at Whatuwhiwhi, on the Karikari Peninsula, about 140km short of the top of the country. We are just 150m from the water's edge, but tomorrow we have another 880km to travel.
I drift off to sleep, frustrated that I am seeing so much of our beautiful country and having so many great conversations but am yet to find a moment to stroll on a beach.
By 9am, we are making the final approach to the cape. Why are we driving more than 100km along sometimes picturesque, but often scrubby and sandy, Aupouri Peninsula simply in order to reach the end of it, turn around and drive back again?
I ask myself this as I stride down the broad tourist path that leads from the car park to the headland's famed lighthouse. The view is pleasant, even dramatic, but it does not explain why 130,000 visitors a year make the effort.
I should have asked Sunny Atwal, whom I met in the car park, what his reasons were. An Indian migrant and underemployed chef who has been living in Auckland for the past five years, Mr Atwal is finding it hard to break the cycle of not being able to get work without a reference and not being able to get a reference without work.
I conclude that visiting Cape Reinga does in fact have something to do with identity. This is not just any jutting tombolo. People come here because it is the topknot of this country.
For some, it is an act of identification with, and ownership of, this particular island nation - having a good look over ''my place''. Other sojourners hope that standing at its northern extremity will somehow give them a new insight into the nature of this land and its people.
You might be right, I tell myself as I struggle back up the path into the teeth of a strong southerly. Or they might just want to tick it off a list that includes the SkyCity casino and a minibus tour of Christchurch's earthquake-ravaged CBD.
EAST CAPE
Somewhere south of Whangarei I get a text message from Margaret Wilson. I am supposed to be interviewing the former politician and Speaker of the House-turned-academic at her office on the University of Waikato campus at 4pm.
But her text says a busy meeting schedule and an unexpected family matter mean she cannot keep the appointment.
She is, however, happy for me to email my questions and she will respond. I do not like having plans go off track. But it is time to adopt a bit of the Kiwi ''she'll be right'' attitude and go with the flow. As it turns out, a couple of extra days' gestation is just what this interview needs.
Instead of driving to Hamilton, we turn off SH1 south of the Bombay Hills and then take another back road for a cross-country trek through northeastern Waikato to Matamata. On the stereo, the Black Eyed Peas assure us they ''gotta feeling tonight's gonna be a good, good night''.
Dusk lowers the curtain on a landscape of thriving, verdant farms and expensive houses glimpsed down long drives whose gateways bear names of thoroughbred horse studs. We chase our headlights to Tauranga and then down the coast to relatives at Ohope Beach. Out the other side of this darkness, the scene will be totally different.
The dew is evaporating in translucent clouds of mist as we drive through a native-forested gorge north of Opotiki, gateway to the East Cape.
Circumnavigating the cape during the next several hours, we will be treated to many other scenes of beauty and delight: enormous crimson flowering pohutukawa standing guard over long stretches of stony grey beaches; tanned bodies riding saddleless horses along the highway verge; young pukeko on spindly stilts tottering after mother; and, from the top of the cape down the eastern edge, stunning bays lined with white sand and towering chalky cliffs.
But that is not all. Alongside the well-kept properties there are many dilapidated old houses and rundown kitset cottages. Often there is an undriveable car or three parked outside, keeping company with the obligatory barking dog of indeterminate pedigree and unlikely goodwill.
In one township, the house where I stopped to ask for permission to view a carved waka was actually a collection of caravans and corrugated iron powered by half a dozen 30sq cm solar panels, each hooked up to a different device.
I am carrying with me Max Rashbrooke's compact primer on the gap between rich and poor in New Zealand, The Inequality Debate.
Rashbrooke shows income inequality rose sharply in New Zealand during the decade from the start of the free-market economic reforms in 1984. It plateaued and then fell slightly, but has never regained pre-1980s levels.
He compares the incomes of single-person households during the almost three decades to 2012. The average yearly disposable income of the top 10% rose by $120,538 (a more than 60% increase). The bottom 10% has increased by only $2600 during that period.
Other researchers have said between 130,000 and 285,000 New Zealand children are living in poverty.
In Te Kaha, I knock on the door of the plain but tidy cottage Patricia Ranapia rents from the Catholic Church. Mrs Ranapia lived in Wellington for most of her life before shifting to the cape with her late husband 20 years ago. I want to know, is life difficult?''I'm on the super so I think it's all right. I'm not moaning,'' she says.
And what is it like for others around here?There are not many jobs, she acknowledges.
''But there's the sea and the bush. If you want to, you can help yourself.''
Another hour up the road, a storekeeper offers her perspective. The locals in her seaside settlement do not have a lot of money but they buy items she would not consider necessities. Not many of the houses have their own gardens, but nor do they buy much in the way of vegetables from this, the only store, she says.
It strikes me that the poverty we now see in some quarters of New Zealand is not simply financial. It has deepened to a paucity of life skills. Sea and soil are of no use if you lack the skills, discipline or motivation to benefit from them.
How has this tragedy been allowed to develop? Do we no longer pride ourselves on being a country where everyone can get a ''fair go''?
It is stinking hot by the time we hit Gisborne mid-afternoon. We refuel the car, find a rubbish bin for myriad empty drink bottles, buy ice blocks and more water, and set the satnav for Napier.
It is a much longer, more hilly route than I expect. But it provides space for thoughts to bump up against each other and occasionally coalesce.
This inequality in Godzone troubles me, especially because we have let it slither in. We have a long tradition of being progressive: first country to give women the vote; a social welfare system and labour relations that saw us hailed as the social laboratory of the world; an ''up yours'' rejection of super-power nuclear proliferation; a celebrated restorative justice system ... So how did this regressive, unbalanced cretin slip through unopposed? What does it say about us?
As we approach Napier, a theory is forming in my brain. It has been said, more than once, that part of the New Zealand character is a strong strain of anti-intellectualism. As the argument goes, we value the practical and look down on the theoretical or abstract.
Could it be that our desire to be progressive, in tandem with a ''let's stop talking, give it a whirl, and see what happens'' approach, means we have unintentionally lost something we still value, namely equality?
Has our wholesale adoption of neo-liberal, free-market economics - with its deregulation, privatisation, and ''the market will provide'' mantra - been some sort of unthinking, 30-year, yard glass skull for which we are paying with the societal equivalent of a splitting headache and an irreparably damaged liver?
I am keen to run the idea past Jerome Hoitink, our host at the Napier Beach Kiwi Holiday Park. As a relative newcomer - he arrived from the Netherlands five years ago - I think he might have an interesting perspective.
Unfortunately, he is on an errand in town. I take that long-awaited walk on the beach. It turns into a not-unpleasant farce as I try to enjoy the evening ocean view, all the while scrambling along the steeply inclined pebble beach, sometimes ankle-deep in small stones.
Then we drive into town for an authentically hot goat curry.
When I do get to talk to Mr Hoitink, it is by phone.
He instantly confirms the anti-intellectual allegation.
Many, but not all, of his friends have been fellow recent migrants from South Africa and assorted European countries.
By comparison, ''second-generation New Zealanders seem a bit less interested in talking about politics and technical ideas'', Mr Hoitink says.
''They are really friendly people and love to have a barbie and discuss what they saw on television or what they did in their youth ...
''I'm not sure if depth is the right word, but [they are] less interested in deep discussion.''
Mr Hoitink is reluctant to blame neo-liberal economics for inequality. He prefers the view that free-market reforms offered opportunities which some people took full advantage of, while others chose not to.
I am not convinced. But I am ready to put my theory to Prof Wilson. Prof Wilson has been attorney-general and director of the Reserve Bank, and is now professor of law and public policy at the University of Waikato.
Her emailed response is fascinating.
A former Labour Party politician, she blames both her party and National for allowing neo-liberal policies that ushered in a dragons den approach to the economy and society.
''There is nothing wrong with competition,'' Prof Wilson writes.
''But when it is applied with an ideological zeal it can be destructive of some sectors in society.''
Kiwis as early adopters who do not think before they jump gets her nod.
''New Zealanders seem to pride themselves as pragmatists, which means we give it a go regardless of consequences.
''It can be OK in some instances, but also means we rarely plan for the future as a people, society or country ... Neo-liberalism has reinforced this characteristic because it is focused on the short-term market.''
Tackling the problem will be no easy task, she says.
''There is a gap between aspiration and reality regarding inequality. But most people feel afraid to challenge inequality [in their daily lives] because they fear they will lose their jobs.''
A new approach would require ''public officials and ministers who are willing to think beyond immediate self interest''. It sounds like a bit more, and deeper, thinking would do us all the world of good.
Bruce Munro travelled courtesy of Jucy Rentals. His accommodation was hosted by the Otorohanga Kiwi Holiday Park, Whatuwhiwhi Top 10 Holiday Park and Napier Beach Kiwi Holiday Park.
