A Bouquet-like Love: Dunedin Riko Edition for Romantic Souls
For international students in Dunedin, love and the balance on a Bee Card are both fleeting resources.
C and Liam first crossed paths at a bus stop in The Octagon. She was waiting for the 8 bus to the university, while Liam was about to board the 77 bus to St Clair. Amid the crisp sea breeze, they exchanged a meaningful glance, communicating without words.
Later, they connected on WeChat and discovered that C was a business student at Otago, refining her papers with the help of ChatGPT; Liam was an engineering student at Otago Polytech, relying on Stack Overflow for coding. One excelled in market analysis, the other in repairing circuit boards, and thus began their perfect academic partnership.
In this quiet and remote little city, they became a typical couple of international students:
On Friday nights, they would head to New World to snag half-price lamb legs, then experiment with various recipes using an air fryer in the dorm, turning their culinary adventures into a weekly ritual.
On Saturday afternoons, Liam would take C to Tunnel Beach to watch the sunset over the cliffs, where the golden light painted the sky and the waves crashed against the rugged shoreline.
On Sunday mornings, they would huddle in C’s dorm kitchen, sipping $3 Flat Whites, each working on their papers and projects, finding comfort in the shared silence and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
They strolled down George Street at night, watching drunk students sing incomprehensible songs, laughing at the absurdity and the carefree spirit of youth.
They fed seagulls on the beach at St Kilda, pondering why the water there was always so cold, sharing stories and dreams under the vast, open sky.
They studied on the second floor of the Central Library, she calculating marketing strategies, he writing control systems, and finally, on the eve of a deadline, they would cheer each other on (and then both submit late), their camaraderie unbreakable.
But, like the balance on a Bee Card, feelings eventually run out. C’s graduation ceremony was at the Town Hall, and Liam’s was in the Polytech auditorium. They sent each other “congrats!” emojis and then started applying for jobs, processing visas, and thinking about the future.
C received a job offer back home, and Liam decided to stay to accumulate points for permanent residency. They walked in front of the Dunedin Railway Station, silent for a long time. Finally, C smiled and said, “Don’t complain anymore that there’s nothing to do in Dunedin.” Liam smiled and said, “We’ll keep in touch even if you go back.”
“We’ll keep in touch.” They had once sworn that distance and time difference were not issues, but in reality, the promise itself is as fluid and valueless as the shifting sands of time.
Their last meeting was at Dunedin Airport. C, with her luggage, stood at the security checkpoint, and Liam stood outside the glass door, watching her figure gradually fade away. As she dragged her luggage toward the boarding gate, she suddenly remembered their first gaze at the bus stop and found it somewhat amusing, a bittersweet memory to carry with her as she moved on.
