You could be someone’s Tony

And Tony took it from there. He walked her through a visa with almost no instructions online. She was the first New Zealander to get the Luxembourg working holiday visa, so there was no map for it, and they lodged the application three times before it came through. He wrote a letter vouching for her and offering a place to stay. When she arrived, jet-lagged and staring at signs she could not read, she went straight to Tony’s, and lived there for her first few weeks.

Eamon’s was much the same. He had worked alongside Tony’s brother at Auckland Rugby, where Luxembourg kept coming up at the staff quizzes. Most of his mates had gone to London, the usual rite of passage, but Eamon fancied somewhere different. When he made the leap, he had Eva’s visa application to copy and the same Tony on the end of the phone. Tony had found him a room, and had played cricket with the managing partner of the firm Eamon now works for. Tony’s son picked him up from the airport.

Ask Eamon what made the move possible and he counts four things: a visa sorted, a place to stay, help finding work, and a rugby team with 25 mates already waiting. Small things, maybe, but they’re what makes a move like this work.

When Eamon once asked Tony why he bothered, the answer was simple. Others had helped Tony when he first arrived. Now he was in a position to do the same, and not everyone gets that chance.

Once Eva found her feet, she began looking out for the newcomers too, among them a young Kiwi named Poppy who landed knowing no one. Eva met her for a coffee, made a couple of introductions, and showed her how to book a doctor. Not long ago Eva needed all that herself, and now she is the one passing it on, with Poppy already doing the same.

There is a Kiwi somewhere near you right now, working out a new city on their own. You know how it feels, and you know how it works. You could be their Tony.