Dutch in Hawke’s Bay – Cornelia (Corrie) Levick

[Background conversations]

Jim Newbigin: It’s 10th February [2020] and I’m at Landmark[s], and we have a talk tonight from Corrie Levick on when the Netherlands came to Hawke’s Bay.

Introduction: A long time ago I worked at what was then Redgrave’s Garden Centre up on the Havelock North Road … so where Green Door is now. And we got so many Dutch people in there that it piqued my interest. I knew they were all good gardeners … very good gardeners … you could tell from what they bought. And apparently at that time there were fifteen thousand people from the Netherlands who had settled in Hawke’s Bay – that’s a fair chunk, and that piqued my curiosity as to why, where, are they still here now; and if so, what are they all doing? Now some of you might have come across Corrie – until very recently she was head of the pre-school department of Taikura Rudolf Steiner [School], and has just recently resigned. So I hope you enjoy her talk; she came in one of the waves of Dutch immigrants to New Zealand, and it’s a fascinating story. So sit back and enjoy. Thank you. [Applause]

Corrie Levick: Well – this is all [a] very new experience. Anyway, so this is actually my most favourite time of the day, because you all guessed it – it is ’happy hour’ time, because once I’ve presented it I can actually sleep. [Chuckles] I have probably re-written this talk a couple of times, and every time [I] think, ’Oh wow – that’s right, that happened then, and that happened then’; but how interesting is that? And then in the last minute … this is wonderful … Dutch friends bring this amazing display. And I didn’t actually touch on any of it regarding the amazing costumes and the festivities of the countries, so Ineke [Vogelaar] and Carla [Crasborn] have been very busy so we have some things on the display. And hopefully you will have some time afterwards to ponder; there’s also a few books that I’ve put in there just for your interest in different ways where my talk is coming from.

Anyway, you’re hear to listen, so you know, I’m Corrie Levick, and I’m freshly retired – and maybe many of you as well – and you get so busy you don’t even know you had time to go to work. [Chuckles] I didn’t believe it when I heard people saying that but now … I’m only a few months in and it has just been an amazing journey so far. So you are here to listen to the talk, and the title … so I reminded myself of the title before I [got] totally carried away … ’The Netherlands Come to Hawke’s Bay’; one immigrant’s story, expectations, and experience over the last forty years. Well, here we go – perfect timing to take stock of my life and share with you where we have been, and progress in so many ways. As you will understand, it is an inner journey and an outer journey; you’ll probably relate to that.

I will include general historic ideas; events based on general knowledge, for example, pre-immigration ideas and general ways of living in Holland at that time. And then I was thinking, ’Oh, where was I before 1980?’ You know, I was really busy getting my children, and you know, everything that counts is between those walls; so you know, I didn’t have a huge expansion over there.

And what was the need, and what was happening in New Zealand at that time? Alternative communities were forming. I’ve got a book here – such a lovely surprise to find it on my bookshelf – and it is [?] in the seventies in New Zealand, and it’s called ’A Hard-Won Freedom’, all about [how] these communes came about, and it’s really interesting reading.

So, in the personal experience, of course, I will show you my first impressions and maybe a bit more. The progress development in Hawke’s Bay for example; the food industry; and the integration of immigrants arriving in New Zealand; the growing needs of alternative education is more widely accepted and positively thought of.

So the progress development; of course it includes the Dutch baker. Pastry training in Holland was already well-established, and George [Vrieze] came out as a fully-qualified pastry chef. There is now a pastry chef training in EIT, [Eastern Institute of Technology] and maybe a lot more, but it was definitely not around at that time. And there is now a huge waiting list at the Steiner School[s] all through New Zealand. I actually felt really inspired about – how did the Dutch influence and shape, or add value to the community in Hawke’s Bay? So, here we go.

Indeed my name is Corrie Levick; however I was given the names Cornelia Jacoba Josephina Mulliner. I was number six child in the family, and it was not unusual in that time. I grew up in a very small village, Zandvoort. It is close to Haarlem in Amsterdam. In the centre of the village is a windmill, and in later years is fully actually revived and operating, and now even has an in-house miller. When I was a little girl [coughing] that was all closing down. Whilst I’ve been back in Holland a couple of times, now the mill is going and everybody gathers around the mill and get[s] flour. So it’s very inspiring.

So historic idea[s] based on general knowledge – you know, I haven’t done huge research on that. But yes indeed, this is my fortieth year in New Zealand; emigrated from Holland, also known as The Netherlands. It is part of Western Europe, and is small in land area. You probably all know this, but it is quite incredible if you think about three hundred and sixty kilometres by two hundred and fifty-seven, and we have seventeen million people. [Chuckles] Where do you put them? No wonder they have plants on a little balcony. But most of the country is low and flat, and below sea level. So forever the Dutch are wrestling with the water, and have come up with these incredible waterworks developments; and continue to refine, forever fighting against the rising sea levels.

The history of our Dutch immigrants is telling me that around 1920 the first skilled carpenters came to New Zealand, and very successfully settled in. And then we had another stream of Dutch – maybe you were one of them – in the early 1950s, looking for opportunities to get ahead after the Second World War; arriving by boat and even … some people actually also took their house with them. It was basically a holiday house; it was a kitset, and that was allowed on the boat. Arriving by boat, and even brought a kitset house; yep.

That is probably where my story begins. My uncle, a baker, arrived on the ‘Sibajak’ with his family, and settled in Nelson and opened a bakery that became very successful. So for me growing up in Holland, there was always the awareness that you had an auntie on the other side of the world. And somehow I remember this picture … ‘when Auntie gets up, I go to bed. When I walk, I might be walking on her feet’. [Chuckles] So I had this complete picture [of] how this world is working from a very early age. So … oh yeah, I’ve talked to you about this business of walking, because I vividly remember this picture and thinking, ’That’s where she walks’. Anyway …

Every now and then we would have visitors from New Zealand, and that was very sporadic, but it was so excited [exciting] because you heard a whisper of English; it was very mysterious. And they brought some really nice treats. And as you probably all remember how that works when you have visitors; children were just in the corner, but you still had this enormous experience of excitement, of sharing that Auntie was here.

So probably around there – and maybe people are present here – the well-known Hawke’s Bay families out of that time settled here. To name just a few, and you can add if you like, but I know a family Crasborn, and a family Dames; family Knottenbelt – fruitgrowers; and Uncle Bill Franssen in the famous coffee shop in Omahu Road; it was the first time we had poured coffee here. And the [?] … still around, and all the families; and it’s very successful and still humming in the Bay.

So around 1980 you find another stream of immigrants; they start to arrive … quite a stream. What happened there? The scene in Holland … I was part of that; it was sort of 1980 … was very much the state of happiness. [It] was described that you owned your own house; you have your own car; two children, ideally a boy and a girl; yep – and a car. So you really had this model, so it started to feel a little bit … Rebellion is probably a little bit of my nature. So anyway, I got sort of … hurt for a bit. And then one of our children suffered major skin allergies and asthma, so we became aware of all the chemical sprays. And also, at the same time my first child went to kindergarten; it was all plastic fantastic, and I thought, ‘Where have I landed? This is not what I really wanted for my children.’ Anyway, I came with lots of questions. So a feeling came into being … what is the alternative? I [was] just feeling I was losing something.

So I was discovering new ideas, and indeed, in our neighbourhood started a Rudolf Steiner kindergarten, and there was only one place left. Well … couldn’t have been much worse than what I experienced, so I thought, ‘Okay, off you go.’ I was desperate to find a new way, and I took that on. A little bit about Rudolf Steiner School[s] – they’re also known as Waldorf Education, and it is an international movement with the first school being founded in Germany in 1990 [1919]. I know it was 1990 [1919] because we had this amazing festival over the whole world about Waldorf[‘s] hundredth celebration. In New Zealand today there are ten schools; also high schools and twenty-four kindergartens operating. The education, which is child-centred learning, recognises that there are distinct developmental stages where specific needs are present. Waldorf Education offers an education which strengthened the child to meet the challenge of school, and of life. Some of the areas of Steiner’s teaching cover agriculture, science and art. By the way, this is not advertising – I just wanted to bring it in [chuckles] that all of a sudden I felt I’d met a niche in my life that’s been growing ever since.

A personal experience for example; must’ve been late seventies … a letter arrived from a very enthusiastic Dutch baker, describing New Zealand [as] paradise; expressing the need for a good baker. But I remember the letter came … ‘We have mandarins on the trees’. And it was a particularly cold day in Holland, so I thought, ‘What would that be like?’ So you know, something started to trigger what it could be. From that first letter followed another letter, and another letter; and then we thought, ‘Oh, let’s go on the journey to see if that’s a possibility.’ So it was confirmed on the list of professional [professions] … they wanted bakers in New Zealand, so it became a very smooth process, and within a few months we had our documentation ready for our family with four children to make the move. I was twenty-eight at the time, and just became aware of the Steiner philosophy. [???] And that’s just to name a few alternatives; there was a lot popping up.

Anyway, so out went the sprays and the plastics; the minimised meat intake; critical look at education, and I did my research, and yes, there are Steiner Schools in New Zealand. So I thought, ‘Oh, we’ll go – nothing can stop me now.’ Not in Dargaville, but hey – that’s where the job is, so we just go to Dargaville, and never mind – I was just … I was only twenty-eight. [Chuckle] Never mind; I filled my suitcase [with] all the ‘Do It Yourself’ books and all sorts to support our alternative ideas.

All of a sudden there was a rush course to make cheese; cheese-making equipment was bought; a hand grain mill; cotton to make your own [?] – if you ever get an opportunity to talk to my children, they still have nightmares about it; however that’s [chuckles] … So we discovered this alternative, and there was no stopping us. We did lots of courses, and also George did a biodynamic farming course; cheese making; I did story telling; craft workshop to make the toys; I thought, ‘Well – ready to go’. Because I extended it a couple of months, I thought, ‘Now I need the rest of the year’, so it took us a bit of time before we really were ready.

Well – then you come to pack your stuff; and I thought, ‘Well’ … I gave away all the extras we had in life; no need for much any more, it is always warm there. [Laughter] According to the correspondence it is forever summer, and you don’t need much at all. [Chuckles] Wow!

So our dream became clearer; there is plenty of land in New Zealand, we can grow our own food, make everything ourselves and build a simple house, and dream on. We were supported financially by the government; they obviously thought it was a good idea that some people would move out, so they gave us a bit of money for our children, so it was economical – I can’t remember what it was, but I still remember [I] thought, ‘Wow, that’s a nice surprise.’ But even in New Zealand they must have been happy for us to arrive because we got landing money. [Chuckles] All a surprise. And it only costed [cost] $2,000 to fly [coughing] our whole family, the six of us, to New Zealand. That was obviously calculated regarding the age of the children.

Yes I knew there was English to speak; never mind – you just [??].

[Chuckles] I had absolutely no prior knowledge of English, and … well I was thinking, ‘Yeah, there was the Beatles and the Rolling Stones’; but you just sang; you had no idea what you were singing. [Laughter] Later in my life I did hear some translations and thought, ‘Wow! That was pretty hard.’ [Chuckles] Anyway, we won’t go into that.

And there were absolutely no obstacles. We say [said] goodbye to all the loved ones … [it was] just what you did. No idea how it would really feel when you leave them behind. One Opa (Grandad) said to the children – they were two, three, six and eight at the time – “I’ll never see you again.” Well, adding to that they were the four grandchildren that he had – he had nothing else. How cruel was that when I started thinking about it?

Anyway, four months later Opa arrived. [Chuckles] Opa came probably every second year, and very close friends in the circle still remember Opa. Opa would sit in the chair, and when the children came home from school the children would say, “Opa, what [coughing] did you do today?” And Opa [would] say, “Nothing.” [Laughter] He did remind me a couple of times that six o’clock is dinner time, because that was what you do. So anyway, we all know as immigrants, when you have your family come to stay with you they stay longer than one day, two days, [laughter] three days, four days, five … actually at the time it was six weeks. And one day Opa decided, “Well, four months is fine …” [Chuckles] Anyway, I’ll leave that out, but it’s very interesting – that’s what you did. Once again, we were really supported [chuckle] by our friends, because sometimes Opa had dinner at our friends’ place. [Chuckles]

And so our fairy tale started to begin, arriving on 6th July; rain, rain – I never ever experienced in my whole life – [laughter] the noise on an iron roof [chuckles] went on for ages. Well, we never owned a car … no need for [one] in Holland; there is buses and train[s], and everything is ready there. But we needed a car, so it was the Kombi. You still remember the whole family in the Kombi – that was fun. But we also needed gumboots – I just chucked it all out, because I thought, ‘We don’t need anything like that over there.’ [Chuckles] So we needed gumboots, and we needed warm clothes – a lot of warm clothes, because it was so, so cold; so cold at night – I’ve never been so cold. There was no central heating which you could turn on, and houses were not insulated; it was just really cold. So the bakery work was started very soon after that, and lucky there was a big oven, and we put our wet firewood on top of the oven so the next day we had some firewood to warm the house.

Although a nearly vegetarian lifestyle in Holland, we discovered the enormous meat intake here. [Chuckle] All the pies and the patties … George had never made a pie in his life! [Chuckle] And that was also interesting; maybe they have discovered other ideas now, but it was very much, you know, you take your hand in the meat … it went on like that for ages; yeah, interesting. And there were Chelsea buns – never heard of them; raspberry buns; sugar and colourful food – I’d never seen anything like it, let alone the enormous bottles of beer served [chuckles] after every [meal], and even early in the morning sometimes … unnatural lifestyle. [Chuckles] [I] questioned how I could keep that away from my children. The bakery was next door to our house and of course the children loved to call in and watch the bakers.

Well I also recall [the] enormous, amazing nature. We were invited by our Dutch baker friend to come to Bathers Beach, and I still think of it. It was amazing, I mean you might have been there; and because we had no English we can’t read the signs; the children play in the water – later on we find out it’s the most dangerous beach. [Chuckles] So anyway, we survived. And the drive, we had a drive to Kerikeri pulling oranges. Well it was probably three or four hours on a gravel road – that was interesting too. That was the first experience … we just see [saw] the oranges on the tree[s] – that was absolutely … I was totally blown away to see an orange tree with oranges on them.

Anyway, there was this famous picnic; you know, you find out how different we are; ‘cause Dutch people, probably [you] know, [when]ever you go out, in the basket I’ve got … four children, four packets of sandwiches … you know, Johnny eats two … I mean, you know, so you’ve [got it] all worked out. So this tiny little box came out of my car; thinking, ‘Oh, I’ll give them a sandwich.’ Well, my Dutch baker friend with his whanau – this huge big chilly bin, and the chicken, the coleslaw … [laughter] I thought, ‘What?!’ [Laughter] That was pretty cool. Anyway, they sat nicely, ate the sandwich, and we had amazing sharing, because of course they said, “Oh, come on, take a bit.” And then came the biscuit tin. In Holland you go and you can take a biscuit; you take a biscuit and you put the tin away. And here it stays on the table. [Laughter] Wow! That was a real feast. So we’re learning; we’re changing, we’re learning.

Well then came the decider [deciding] moment. Our main plan was to live an alternative lifestyle with our family, away from the chemical sprays; and be self-sufficient … pure. How flower-power is that? And what sort of price [do] you have to pay for that? To buy a bit of land and stick to our alternative lifestyle plan was one decision we could make. But what about schooling? It’s so, so different.

So knowing there was a Steiner school in Hawke’s Bay; knowing that it was the first one and also they had a high school, I’m sort of thinking, ‘Well, that is my path in life’. So we decided to go and visit the Steiner school in Hawke’s Bay. We made the call to visit the school; it was only twelve hours driving down the road, so we camped of course, overnight. We experienced that … I should say all of that was a homecoming. The children visited the school and noticed in the community hall the photo of Rudolf Steiner, and one of the children commented, “Oh – is that the same man as in Holland?” [Chuckles] So that was quite exciting doing that visit; [the] decision was made. So we were in a position to buy a house, and we did buy a house that afternoon. Ridiculous, if you think of it. The house was in Fitzroy Avenue, round the corner of [from] the school. I couldn’t drive, so it made sense. And actually it was an amazing quarter-acre section – huge tree; and marble in the bathroom. [Chuckles] Well … it was of course, formica. [Laughter] So whenever I go and see a place I knock everything; I feel everything to make sure that it sort of is real. [Chuckles]

So Hawke’s Bay, here we come, October 1980. First day at school – one hour late because we had the hour change, and by that time we still didn’t listen to the news; English was minimum [minimal], so the children all arrived an hour late. [Chuckles] But they must’ve overcome that, because there’s not much stress left from that trauma, but it was still … wow, it’s about time we have [got] a little bit more of an idea what’s going on here. However, little by little of course our English was developing, and children did pick up quickly at school – not always pure English, and it had myself in trouble many times. However, joining the school community did help the whole integration system – meeting other new Dutch immigrants, and from the first hour with Roel and Carla [Crasborn] here, and very soon lots of other people, at least I could talk. You know, you could at least say something; because when you can’t talk for a while it’s pretty frustrating [chuckles] … we were sick of it after a while. [Chuckle] I’ve never talked so much [chuckle] … anyway, let’s leave it there. [Laughter] So school was all sorted by now; it was a private school at the time. However, we had no idea how we were able to support that with no employment.

Employment – although it was indicated that bakers were needed in New Zealand, it was not noticeable in Hawke’s Bay. The first interview for a bakery in Napier, due to our hour change, [George] arrived one hour late for his interviews; not a very great move, so that job didn’t take off. I don’t know if you remember Barnes Bakery in Tomoana Road … well-established baker; and so he met George – “No – don’t need a baker, but we need a cleaner.” Okay … clean; anyway, it didn’t come off.

And then, I honestly can’t remember that [the date]; the Golden Wheat Bakery in Oliphant Road was for sale. Later I find [found] out everything was for sale [as] soon as you talk to somebody, but at that stage we knew Oliphant Road. And at least some of our alternative ideas came into being, because we were able to purchase biodynamic flour – that is a method of growing indicated by Rudolf Steiner, so chemical free, of course – and it was from a mill in Waipawa. And so the first sourdough bread rolled over the counter. This bread became very popular, and [we] even at some stage sent it to health food shops in Hastings, Napier, and even on the bus to Wellington. But doughnuts and the fancy cakes, and pies and sausage rolls – that was really our bread and butter. Day and night work; at times all the children in the van asleep, and parents at work. Very limited English, and at the end of the day my face hurt from smiling, because it was the only way of communicating. It’s a very important way of communicating, but you know, you do feel the effect. [Chuckles]

So by that stage we talked to other like-minded Dutch immigrants. Of course that was the highlight, discussing our alternatives, because they came with alternative ideas as well. We had heaps of fun … “How can we make it into being? Let’s start a commune; let’s buy a piece of land” … and soon it became very apparent that we had all different ideas about it. [Chuckle] Somebody didn’t want to give up the washing machine, and another one didn’t want to go without a TV; so anyway, [coughing] we had heaps of fun. And also obviously also a really great de-stressing – it must’ve gone with a glass of wine as well. [Chuckles] So we had hilarious conversations.

It was in those early days we met Mr Weismer. Mr Weismer was going to sell his lifestyle property, and that could be our commune if all our ideas would come into being. So Mr Weismer … I’ll never forget, I walked alongside him … he said something like, “When I arrived in New Zealand I had plans; however, New Zealand had different plans for me.” And those words have stayed with me, and ring true in my ears. So, moving to paradise … I started to work out that wherever you are you carry yourself wherever you go; and it is your own possibilities of development.

Trouble in paradise – communication; connecting in the eighties … there were no apps available. Plain dictionary – wherever you go you carry it; phone calls to the family had to go via an operator; and you had to really organise the [?] of funds.

Language – yes, it is not so simple; frustration, not being able to connect. I have learnt that language is a lot more than translating words. It is the soul quality; the exchange of thoughts and feeling. Starting to use the second language, you make yourself [coughing] very vulnerable. You make mistakes, and not always fun. Maybe I can laugh about it now, but [chuckle] I was once in [a] vege [vegetable] shop. I needed eggs … I’m still aware of it when I ask for eggs … if eggs were eggs were eggs; “I want eggs.” [Chuckle] I mean, for God’s sake! I work in a bakery, I can just [?] a tray of eggs. [Laughter] So, so disillusioned with trying my best, but anyway … Also, you start a conversation and then the subject changes immediately, and it was really not what I wanted to talk about. [Chuckle] So …

I did not know the word or meaning of grief at that time of my life. However, reflecting on it now, it is a real sense of loss not being able to use and live your mother’s language. [Mother tongue] Millions of people live today robbed of their language, and through my own experience I can have true empathy for [with] that.

1983 came about, and I went back to visit my favourite sister in Holland; she waited to have children until after I’d left the country. So anyway, that was really cool; I visited her round the time that a baby was due. Of course, you don’t take any risks, you know, you go four weeks before or four weeks after the date. Altogether I was away for ten weeks. Unreal! What an experience – for the first time in my life I saw Holland … it’s beautiful! Beautiful geraniums, and plants in the window; every house was so gezelligheid … like, the word ‘cosy’ is not cutting it … gezelligheid. So I could talk to everyone, and I did. [Chuckles] Sitting in the bus or the train I just couldn’t stop. [Laughter] And there was family bonding. So you have it right.

On my return there was only one mission, and I thought, ‘Well I’m talking the boss out of it; we go back to Holland, pack it all and then we go.’ However, it was not so simple. I still remember him saying, “Oh, yeah, it was all good – you had ten weeks’ holiday, but life is not a holiday”, blah, blah, blah. [Chuckles]

However, through my homesickness [and] with the help of some amazing, great girlfriends, after a while the sun was shining. The school community was a very important part of my life, and teachers asked me to show how I made the dolls and the toys for my children. And so my skill came in handy; and another way of learning the language of [through] craft; because there’s one way of doing it, by actually explaining that a naald is a needle, and so you know, it was a good way for me to learn; my language got better. And I also noticed that sewing did not come natural by [to] most parents, and I started to understand the different cultures and environments – why would you sit and sew if you can play in your garden? You know, all the things just became a little bit more clear that is [are] so different here.

A scary thought now, because you know what happened? This lady, Carla – she organised that we were going to have a talk. It was about home birth. Yes. I still can’t remember, I think it was Renée actually that asked me, because round 1980 it wasn’t really possible to have a home birth. And of course we had lots of young mothers saying, “Well, we just want to stay home.” And I had all my children in Holland, and I felt really, that’s the way to go; [chuckle] so I was very passionate about it. And I have no idea how I got myself through that talk, but I was part of giving this message from … Why not? So it’s interesting, when you look now at the development of home birth, [it] is now just a normal practice – you have a choice. But that has changed tremendously through quite a few people. But that was really scary, and I did it, but … it wasn’t obviously recorded anywhere. [Chuckle] And so I did. Slowly but surely I started to master more and more, and my confidence grew with getting in more language.

So back to employment … back to the bakery life; I jump now over seven years. A slight burnout and the tragic loss of a very, very good friend in a car accident in [on] the last day of 1986, really took the wind out of my sails. So we sold the bakery, picked some fruit for a while, and driving [drove] trucks; and it was clear we could not support our growing family demands on that, so it was back to the baking. This time it was Stortford Lodge; George’s Bakery was the place, and we dropped all alternatives straight away, into pies, doughnuts, sandwiches and cakes. At that stage around 1980, I really remember it well, it was a good stop going into Omahu Road, because that was starting to become a real hub of businesses. So basically George’s Bakery was the stop at six o’clock in the morning, and it was you know, sandwiches, pies; then it was ten o’clock; then it was lunch time of course; and then it was three o’clock – it was really timely, all those breaks. So this place did us for three years, but it was again, seven days a week … long days’ work. By that time thank God, the children were growing up so they could help, [chuckles] and it was good therapy for the children when I had some extra work that I needed to do; it was really helpful.

So what’s left of our alternative lifestyle? Further and further removed, but we were able to buy a little lifestyle property, and it was heaps of fun for the children to explore country life. I[‘ll] save you the stories of all the sheep with fly strokes; [fly strike] and an old racehorse was given to the children [chuckle] and we spent heaps of money on vet [veterinarian] bills, but [chuckles] you know, the horse was brushed forever … never did ride it. [Chuckles] And I grew mainly compost [chuckles] … compost heap was amazing, because I had an off and on relationship with my garden; there was no continuity, you know. Once it was really nice, and [chuckle] a month later you think, ’Wow, this isn’t …’ and the whole lot goes back to the compost heap. Anyway, every now and then we had a meal, and I made sure that everybody knew that it was straight out of the garden. And of course sometimes there were some visitors in the lettuce or in the spinach … but it all belongs to the organic food.

So again, we work[ed] all this time, and then we moved on. We went into the patisserie style, because at the end of the day, George was a qualified patisserie man. So we were ready; we created a place in Havelock [North], George’s Patisserie, a total new adventure with our pour-over coffee – and Carla remembers that well. We were setting up because now the coffee was coming in, the pour-over coffee. And we even had an espresso machine, but that was of course so demanding, so I never did that in the morning tea; it was only on occasions between if you made cappuccinos – there’s lots of foam on the top – where you saw people drinking it, half the white’s on their noses. [Chuckles] So that was the first espresso machine [cough] that we brought in. Very soon that grew in popularity, making cappuccinos, espressos, and some people came with those fancy names … ‘Can you make an americano?” So what is an americano? [Chuckles] So anyway, we’ve learnt a lot, because now everybody knows what an americano is, or whatever it is.

At that stage we made our own almond paste, and there was a growing demand for the finer biscuits and special small goods. It was all the beginning of something that is now actually full swing. I mean the food business is incredible. So patisserie, again, here you’ve got it. And a few years later somebody walks in and said, “Oh, I really want to buy that.” And then we think, ‘Oh, yeah, why not?’ And here we go – maybe we’re going to be alternative after all.

So anyway, we sold that, and we had an opportunity to go to Auckland. That was an adventure; [the] children were sort of old enough actually, to run their own house for a little while, I think. They were quite … yeah. So we went to Auckland – we run [ran] the Greenwood Kitchen for three months. And that was such an experience – all of a sudden we had staff. And busy! I don’t know if you know Auckland at all but there’s people all the time; it was just an incredible experience. So we came back and thought, ‘Well, we can do that.’

So then we came back; it was ‘A Taste of Europe’ in the middle of Gloucester Street [Taradale]. There was [were] not many cafes around, and EIT started to develop. So it was a full on eatery, with the steps and the cafe upstairs. And again, we were really, really busy. Thank God we had a good-sized family so there was [were] always children or friends who could help out. And we had some amazing staff … a team, really.

Now the alternative plans – they sort of never left me, really. And so we moved in different directions; children leaving the nest; the baker still baking. So I took my own direction. A little pause, because in fact it was a whole lot of new learning. I took on study and became a fully qualified teacher, got a position at the Steiner kindergarten, and loved every minute of it. Finally, finally, I was and I am able to connect to the study and direction I wanted to follow and find.

I was very fortunate to meet my second husband, Mike Levick. Many of you may know him, or I should say, you may have known him. He was fully committed to an alternative lifestyle; fully committed to the organic movement. He was a soil scientist, and one of those movers and shakers. He was an educator and a teacher for many. Needless to add [say] that through study and my professional life and a New Zealand husband, my English rapidly improved. [Chuckles]

In a short story, I can see a line of small influences that Dutch immigrants have brought to Hawke’s Bay – bakery life; first sourdough bread from biodynamic flour; adding patisserie in the bakery style; change from instant coffee to pour-over coffee, to cappuccinos with lots of white foam on top; flash espresso machines used; through the Steiner school community, lots of sharing and learning craft, and really questioning the education; parenting support and promoting home birth. And it was through my time teaching at the Steiner school, actively being part of the change that is so needed for today and time to come. Being an immigrant woman has awakened in me the understanding of culture; the differences, pain, and celebration of life.

The day of my retired life, March 2020, I wake up; I greet the day with the sunrise; walk my dog; ponder on memories of bygone time; have a dip in the ocean followed by a great coffee made by a friendly barista in one of the many cafes in the Bay. I grieve for the loss of my husband, my luxury item; I enjoy the power of this earthly life, and I feel I have still a chapter to live.

Thank you for your attention; of course there is still some time for questions. And share with each other – we all have a story within us; time to share … life goes too fast. My father had a very famous saying: ‘There’s a time for arriving and a time for leaving. The time for leaving has arrived.’ Goodnight, and good luck. [Applause]

Introducer: Corrie, thank you so much for that very personal story. For me it’s an insight into what people who lived in Western Europe [coughing] experienced long before we did, and wanted to escape. And you took a big risk in doing so. The Dutch people I know work very hard, and there is an idealism to that, and I congratulate you for that. I wish you lots of time to do your philosophising and what-have-you in your so-called [coughing] retirement. Any questions?

Question: You had trouble with your picnic; did you ever have trouble with ‘bring your plate’?

Corrie: Thank God, I was informed. Yeah. [Laughter] There are lots of little subtle things, and I touched a little bit on the fact that we lost a very close friend on the last day of 1986. I [will] never forget the stream of people with food. I had no idea; and it was the most delicious … it was so nurturing. It never ever in Holland would have happened. So that was a very incredible experience.

And one of my nicest meetings – I was in Holland one day, and there were some New Zealand friends in Holland; and he said, “Oh, let’s get together”. And of course they had food, we had food; I thought, ‘Oh, we know how to do that.’ [Chuckles]

Introducer: Corrie, thank you so much, we really appreciate you coming, and I love all the personal bits. Thank you very much. [Applause]