In a modern, open-plan residence overlooking sprawling playing fields on Auckland’s North Shore, a group of sassy ladies are rewriting the rules of senior living – and in the process, having a blast.
A microcosm of Aotearoa’s wonderful multiculturalism at work, the women – aged from their late 60s to late 70s – hail from Canada, Japan, Rarotonga, and New Zealand. Verve visited their home, Sunrise House, for some tea, cake, and a natter.
“They’re just as mixed in the house next door,” says New Zealand-born Edna, who used to work in advertising and a legal office and is a recent member of the household. “They’ve got Scotland, England, and Russia, as well as a Kiwi, but those girls are even older than us!”
The first-of-its-kind project has conceived by Neil Binnie of the Bays Community Housing Trust, a non-profit that provides high quality, affordable housing for those in social and economic need. Applicants are means tested and assessed by the trust before being interviewed by their potential future flatties.
French-Canadian Helene, the house’s longest serving resident, says that blokes were once considered but the idea was soon scrapped when it became abundantly clear that “men of that age are simply searching for a woman to look after them”.
“We’ve all been there, done that, and don’t need to do it again!” Edna chips in.
I ask if they have a cleaning roster and Helene says that the group of “queen bees” choose their allocated chores.
“We work together to make it home,” adds Maata, who served three prime ministers in Rarotonga. “Everyone has to agree on everything. Communication is key.”
“Like all homes and families, compromise is occasionally required to keep things harmonious,” says Edna.
Such as deciding what to watch on television?
“We all have televisions in our private quarters, but we probably read more anyway,” says Maata. “I’ll sometimes watch Dancing with the Stars in here.”
I ask if much dancing goes on in the living room, and Maata says they have a boogie every now and then, but it’s Edna and and Keiko who are most likely to get up to groove, especially after a wine or two.
Keiko, “the baby of the house”, who originally hails from Japan and worked for the consulate, admits to having lacked courage and confidence for much of her life, of a feeling of “never quite fulfilling my potential”. But, moving into Sunrise with her “sisters” has really allowed her to grow.
“If it wasn’t for this place, I’d probably have had to move out of Auckland,” she says. “It’s very special here, the companionship. It feels as though I’ve found a new family.”
Such companionship proved vital during the Covid-19 pandemic, when, while residents of pricey retirement villages were often confined alone to their bedrooms, the Sunrise gals were able to continue pretty much as usual. They even bought themselves a Nintendo Wii to keep themselves entertained, set up by Helene, the resident fixer.
“I taught IT in Montreal in the late ‘90s, having bought my first Apple PC in 1990,” she says. “I love teaching, and still do it. But now it’s mostly bridge.”
She’s also a keen ballroom dancer, and some of the ladies play bridge and bowls (Keiko bowls internationally), though not always together. For another key to the group’s formidable friendships is to have other social circles and allowing each other their own space.
“Everyone has to agree on everything. Communication is key.”
“But we try to meet up at 5pm every day for a catch up and a chit chat as we take turns preparing our meals,” says Maata.
Amazingly, none of the group had ever flatted before, and their coming together appears almost preordained. Some are widowed, some divorced, some divorced once or twice. All have lived full lives and are determined to live this new chapter to the fullest, too.
“There needs to be more places like this that strike the balance between independent and communal living,” says Helene.
With half-a-million Kiwis expected to be renting in retirement, she has a point.
“The trust checks in with us regularly, we feel safe and secure,” says Maata, “and we’re so grateful and thankful to be here.”
“We prop each other up,” adds Edna. “We share our stories. And we fill the house with much laughter.”
