My Uber upon arrival in New Zealand

No matter what anyone says, Uber is incredibly convenient when it's available, especially when arriving in a new country. Which was my case yesterday: no worries about the price, being ripped off, safety, or waiting—it's like being at home. Whether by taxi or Uber, one of the joys of this mode of transport is finding a chatty and interesting driver. I was particularly lucky yesterday.

A gentleman with a beard and a thick, white, but neatly trimmed head of hair, handsome, driving a luxurious and comfortable Kia electric car. Originally from India, he has lived here for about thirty years, but his mantra is that while it's good to travel and see other places, the secret to happiness is to live close to where you grew up, less than 50 kilometers away. Why? Because elsewhere, you're never truly at home. You're far from your origins and you don't belong where you live. Why did he stay? The children grew up here; they're attached to this country. But they've also lost their identity and are still somewhat separate from this new country. It takes three generations to truly integrate and become fully integrated citizens.

Homesickness makes him idealize life there. Life is just as good there as here; perhaps he comes from a privileged family? I didn't ask him. People generally emigrate because things are difficult at home and the future is bleak for their children; parents make this sacrifice to open doors for their offspring. That's what my experience working with immigrants has taught me.

My driver points out that we have similar names; his is Aniel Dee, so we're somehow connected. He actually exudes a certain serenity. Then, we talk about cars, just the guys. Electric vehicles are progressing quickly here; the Chinese ones are very good, and they're developing new battery technologies. He confides that driving his beautiful car is a pleasure and that the 50-60 hours he spends in it each week fill him with joy.

We quickly arrived at our destination, a firm handshake, he left quickly and I didn't dare ask him to pose for a photo; what a portrait that would have been. Damn.

Later, while walking around my Home Exchange, my first impression: a big Vermont, a state I like being near my cottage.