I could certainly write a novel about my import-riddled American life. I drive a Japanese car to the local farmers market, write my American political theory essays with Chinese ink and dance around my bedroom to country music in my Sri Lankan underwear. Even so, my study abroad experience in New Zealand has forced me to forget any notions of a trade deficit. I maintain that the United States is a nation of exports - our products are merely less tangible.
New Zealand is arguably a long ways away from the United States. Whereas we might fly to Mexico or Canada for a small getaway, Kiwis jet to places like Vanuatu, Rarotonga and even Antarctica. Its indigenous culture is also long-standing and collectively prominent. The Maori people, for example, settled in the Land of the Long White Cloud before 1300. Endemic animals, such as the reptile tuatara, originate from the ancient super-continent Gondwana.
Despite this, I was shocked to discover that American pop culture seems almost universal in scope. New Zealand listens to our music, watches our movies and eats our fast food. It is a cultural colonization - and the world is up for conquest.
The bleeding heart conservationist in me protests. I would love to preserve the New Zealand culture as it is, protecting its amazing indigenous way of life from American infiltration. I needn't worry, however, because although American influence is ubiquitous, the Yankee message still gets filtered through an unchanging Kiwi lens. This is a nation that prizes the land and prioritizes the family; a sporty, thrifty, sturdy group of people who are famously independent.
American music makes a belated rotation through the radio and TV circuits. Songs hit the airwaves here several months after their peak in the United States, playing ad nauseum.
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