If you’re new here, you can read Part 1 and Part 2 of my immigrant story first.
Auckland: The First Place That Felt Like It Could Be Home
When I arrived in Auckland, I wasn’t looking for another adventure — I was looking for a place to settle. After months on the South Island, where everything felt quiet and rural, Auckland felt like stepping into a different world. It was multicultural, loud, messy, and full of people from everywhere. I remember walking through the city and feeling something I hadn’t felt in a long time: excitement.
For the first time since leaving Hungary, I thought, Maybe I could build a life here.
Blue‑Collar Jobs and Visa Limits
My visa had a condition: I could only work at the same place for three months. That made finding an office job nearly impossible.
So I did what many immigrants do — I took whatever work I could find.
I worked as a kitchen hand. I cleaned hotel rooms. I sold lángos at night markets — a tiny piece of Hungary in the middle of Auckland.
It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t easy. But it kept me going.
Hostel Life and Flatting — Learning to Live With Strangers Again
I stayed in a hostel first — six people in a room, no privacy, no silence. Then I moved into a flat that was freezing cold, but at least it had a door I could close.
I thought I had outgrown flatting. But here I was again, sharing kitchens, bathrooms, and the emotional weather of strangers. It was chaotic, but it also meant I wasn’t alone.
Dating Life — The Most Unromantic, Romantic Beginning
I met my now‑husband when we were both working as kitchen hands. Not exactly a fairy‑tale setting.
We worked in a Catholic girls’ school cafeteria, wearing hairnets, uniforms, and aprons. Very sexy.
I still remember the first time I saw him — tall, strong, handsome, and Indian. I had never dated an Indian guy before. I didn’t know many Indians at all. So I was curious.
Our shifts overlapped, and we spent hours cleaning together, talking about everything and nothing. The first spark happened in the most unromantic moment: pulling a heavy trash bag out of the bin together. He was close, and suddenly there was this tension — the kind you don’t expect in a school kitchen surrounded by leftover pasta.
That’s how it happens, isn’t it? Not when you dress up and go out thinking, “Tonight is the night.” It happens when you’re wearing a hairnet, elbow‑deep in dishes, not expecting anything at all.
We started dating soon after. We spent most of our time at his place — mine was too cold, too uncomfortable, too temporary. It was fast, but it felt right.
Trying to Break Into Office Work
I was determined to get an office job. I had a degree. I had experience. I had motivation.
But every application came back with the same line:
“We need a New Zealand reference.”
And I kept thinking: How can I have a reference if no one gives me a chance?
I met so many people with degrees who stayed in blue‑collar jobs for years. Some had better English than me. I couldn’t understand it — but I also started to understand how easy it was to get stuck.
The only difference was that I refused to give up. I kept applying. Kept trying. Kept believing something would click.
The First Office Job — Only Three Weeks, But Life‑Changing
And around this time, I finally got a tiny break: a three‑week temp job. Just three weeks. But it changed everything.
It gave me:
- my first New Zealand reference
- my first office experience
- my first sense of “maybe I can actually build a life here”
That short contract was the beginning of my office career.
The Visa Advisor and the India Plan
We went to an immigration advisor. She said she would try her best, but the chances didn’t sound great — and the cost was around $2000–$2500.
For two people working minimum‑wage jobs, that was a lot.
So we started thinking about alternatives.
That’s when we came up with the idea of going to India so I could meet his family. Not as a holiday — but as proof. Something real to show immigration later, something that demonstrated our intentions were serious.
The cost of the trip was the same as the advisor. Looking back, it was the best investment we could have made.
“Welcome Home” — The First Time I Heard It
When we returned from India, the immigration officer said, “Welcome home.”
My brain froze.
Home was Hungary.
But my life was here.
I didn’t know how to hold both truths at once.
That was the first moment I realised how complicated “home” had become.
Successful Visa Application — Joy With a Shadow
When my visa was approved, I felt happy — of course I did. But I also felt the weight of reality settling in.
This wasn’t temporary anymore. This wasn’t a gap year. This wasn’t a phase.
This was my life now.
And that came with joy, but also grief.
Building Routines — The Quiet Work of Settling
Building routines was harder than any job I’d ever done. My routine used to be catching up with friends in Hungary. In New Zealand, I had no friends.
Just my partner, my job, and a city that still felt like a stranger.
But slowly — very slowly — things started to shift.
A favourite supermarket.
A bus route I knew by heart.
A café where the barista recognised me.
A rhythm that felt less like survival and more like life.
Trapped Between Two Worlds
For years, I lived in two worlds:
Hungary — nostalgic, beautiful, idealised.
New Zealand — challenging, unfamiliar, full of self‑search and a bit of depression.
I felt suspended between who I used to be and who I was becoming.
Final Thoughts
Settling down didn’t happen in one moment. It happened slowly, through routines, people, challenges, and choices. Auckland didn’t become home overnight — but somewhere between the blue‑collar jobs, the visa stress, the flatting chaos, the first office contract, and the person who stood beside me through all of it… something shifted. I stopped surviving. I started living. And without realising it, I had already begun building a life here.
If you’d like to follow the whole journey, you can read the earlier chapters here:
- Part 1 — Leaving Hungary
- Part 2 — My First 6 Months in New Zealand
