By Cierra Farst | Media and Culture, Creative Writing | Class of 2022
Education Abroad Program: ES Abroad Auckland Direct Enrollment – Auckland, New Zealand, Fall 2019

Prize Winner

My human claimed me from a Burlington shoe rack back in January. It’s October now and together we’ve seen so much. We went on vacation, took a trip to a state we’ve never been to before, she made it through her first year of college, and I learned how mud can really do a number on my appearance…

At the moment I rest under a bed in Auckland, New Zealand, in a room that has become my human’s temporary home.

We arrived in July, when the skies were cloudy and the rain never failed to say hello. I’m always fond of the rain; it keeps me clean. But I could tell my human wasn’t as enthused. She’s meant for the sunshine. And one day, she got it. She was so excited that she took a bus to St Helier’s Bay, and I came along too. She carried me as she let her feet sink in the sand and let the water touch her toes.

I got some water on my toes when we traveled down south. I met the edge of a lake and studied the colors of the rainbow found in a waterfall. I kept my human balanced on an occasionally swaying boat, kept her protected from Queenstown’s cold, and left her to dance on the warm carpet of a place she was falling in love with.

When we’re at university together, I get to learn too. Once we wandered around The Clock Tower, her taking notes and pictures, and I gliding on colorfully tiled floors. But most of the time, we journey from class to class with a backpack on shoulders, phone in hand, and me on foot. She scribbles away on notebook paper in lectures while I greet my fellow shoes underneath the tables. For lunch, we either sit on the benches or sit in the aisles of the library, her reading a random book and I counting the titles on the shelves.

Although I don’t eat, my human loves to. Queen Street and those surrounding it have a variety of culinary wonders for her to explore. She’s had Korean pancakes and a bubble waffle cone. She’s watched a bowl of fettuccine get mixed into a cheese wheel of Parmigiano Reggiano. She’s feasted on pumpkin soup, lamb, and raspberry chocolate cake in the Sky Tower. She’s done late night McDonald’s runs with friends and ice cream strolls along the harbor. Countdown has become our most visited spot.

If I had to pick one shared passion between me and my human, it would be our fondness for walks. We’ve walked down Queen Street and Quay; crossed the bridge to Newmarket; trekked to the top of Mount Eden. Sometimes we have a destination in mind; other times we just walk. More recently, we’ve been hopping on the buses and trains, giving us even more ground to cover. While she looks at the map of the train lines and stops, I gaze at the patterns on the seats. They remind me of seashells, a whole wave of them.

When we’re in the apartment together after a long day, I rest as she continues moving. I’ll watch her type away on her computer or jot down words on a sticky note. Sometimes she’ll follow along with a ballet tutorial on Youtube or she’ll play music. She started listening to Italian music too, in the hopes it will make her a better learner. She adores movies and TV shows, and at least one or two New Zealand programs have caught and kept her attention. I’ll see her scroll through pictures on her phone, smiling. Although we have only been here for a few months, the images on that phone contain many memories.

Often, when I catch her staring out the window, I can imagine how she must feel. Instead of looking at frozen images on postcards and the internet, she’s here now, watching as the picture moves and breathes. I think occasionally she feels as if she’s in a dream. I don’t blame her. After all, traveling has been a dream of hers ever since I met her and before I even knew her. She’s half a world away from home right now, and my intuition tells me this won’t be the last time she is. I just hope the next time she is, I’ll be the one keeping her on her feet.