OUR PLACE AND STORY

UNDER EVERY ROCK  A STORY

He aha te hau e wawara mai

He raki nana i a mai te pupu-tarakihi ki uta 

I tu ai te pou whakairo ki Waitemata

What is this wind that disturbs me tis The North Wind

That brings good and bad to Waitemata

Ah, my vision

(Titahi's prophesy)

  

Ngati Whatua kaumatua Te Puna Danny Tumahai once told us, "... protect the past by preserving the best of the present to guide the future."

Centuries old stories abound everywhere we look; on the summits of mountains, waterways and headlands, and under every rock along and in the habour, each weaving a tapestry that hold meaning.

My advice, unlock that wealth of information by working with place names across Tamaki Makaurau-Auckland.  It isn't surprising that Aucklanders know little or are indifferent to the richness that can be readily grasped around the isthmus.  For a start, names are like pneumonic reminders that recall precise details of family and tribal whakapapa (genealogical histories).  They are like road signs that show us where we have been and where we are going.  

There is so much value in the work of local iwi of Ngati Whatua, Tainui and Ngati Paoa to reclaim and preserve old names that  could easily have become obsolete through lack of usage or understanding.  Auckland possesses a rich heritage that can easily be untapped.  To do less is to betray generations to come.  Te Reo is slowly regaining a former life, so I therefore commend place names as a starting point for the learner.  These names are not vestiges of the past but each throbs with the vibrancy of a heart.

This knowledge would open up another world for Aucklanders if they could hear and know about Te Pane-o-Horowai (St Helliers), Mataaho (volcano deity), Te Hororoa (Pt Britomart), or Te Ara Whakatekateka a Ruarangi (Meola Reef), now how about the green-eyed fish of Poutini that came to Waitemata, names that echo of our origins.

Kupe was our earliest known ocean going navigator who left many names that defined our coast-line that became critical signs for the navigators who followed in his wake.  Kupe took back with him the prized greenstone.  This important find was quickly identified as Poutini the spiritual home of pounamu along the Arahura River.  Maps came later, much later with Abel Tasman, James Cook and Marion du Fresne.

Early waka sailors followed the stars, whales and birds yes, but they also followed 'sign posts' along the coastline, mountains and rivers adding their own narratives to an overlay of stories. Sailings to Aotearoa were no mere accident.  These were planned over generations of aggregated knowledge, skills, experience and sheer guts and intuition; prodigious journeys of the mind, spirit and body.

This week Aucklanders were welcomed aboard The Sarah Gifford, a restored flat-bottom scow for a trip around Waitemata to experience something of the richness of Maori place names and the Maori language.

A short welcome, a karakia, mihi and a waiata, then the two names our city: Tamaki Makaurau (place of many lovers) and Auckland (Lord Auckland).  Two stories that resonated with manuhiri (guests) were,  'Patupaearehe and The Harbour Bridge', and the other, 'Mataaho-the fiery keeper of volcanoes'.       

What our guests experienced during two sailings was the richness of both languages, English and Maori in stories so redolent with episodes of our city's ancient and recent past.  

Names therefore carry knowledge and power in the spoken word.  The speaker (male or female) used the mana of a living taonga (heirloom).  The spoken word is held sacred because through it the wisdom of the ancestors is presented and communicated and made objective in our world.  A single word or name is there for the transfer of knowledge. 

Tamaki Makaurau, Nga Tapuwae, Ihumatao, Te Pane-o-Horowai, Te Hororoa, Rangitoto, Toangaroa, Pukekawa, Motu Tapu and so on around a glistening harbour to Te Ara Whakatekateka-a-Ruarangi.   

Our guests had fun spotting and matching names to the landscape and by weaving these lyrical and poetic names around their tongues and having a laugh doing it together.

Maori Language Week when it closed on Sunday should not stop there.  I commend the taonga of language to you.  Haere mai ki Tamaki Makaurau.

A nation that understands and accepts its holiness, is a nation blessed.

Haare Williams 9 July 2013

White Lies Tuakiri Huna

Speaking te reo was a prerequisite for early settlers here for reasons of survival and security. And as well to establish rapport with tangata whenua laying the foundations for trade and commerce as Maori quickly adapted into the spirit of building the new colony.  Speaking English came quickly to tangata whenua and in the 1820s and 1830s Church mission schools flourished with translations of The Bible. But by the 1930s, instruction in schools was solely in English with te reo banished (almost) to extinction as a colonial relic.

Here again in the start of another Te Wiki o Te Reo, we celebrate through Maori Language Week a taonga (national treasure) and what better way to kick start it with the movie ‘White Lies’.  This movie does that.  If nothing else - te reo is given the power it deserves in snapshots of Ringatu karakia, waiata tawhito (ancient songs), conversational English and Maori which flow regally together owing as much to the skill of Whirimako Black who brings the richness of her lines and character into a natural blend of languages together with a balance of wit and humour. This congruency, I am sure sat well with a responsive audience.  A celebration too through Ringatu, the church founded by Te Kooti and the easy-to-read subtitles.


I went along with a colleague and friend Karena from The Voyager Museum and tread the red-carpet for the premier of ‘White Lies’.  I noted her occasional sniff and sob and the raising of her hand (Ringatu) for moments in praise of God.  It was, for us a rare chance to meet the players and Author Witi Ihimaera (DCNZ, QSM) with his Gisborne family along with Tuhoe supporters.

This is a story that resonated with me around the Tuhoe struggle for survival.  It opened with a prelude in karakia, mihi, and a brief comment by Ihimaera.

 

Powerhouse acting by three women; Whirimako Black in her debut role as Paraiti will arguably put her up as one of our premier screen actors; gentle, warm, compelling and humane.  Maraea is played by Rachel House also brilliant who, with Rebecca, played by Antonia Prebble is a wealthy young wife with a secret; three very different portrayals that bring a sharp contrast to the screen. Paraiiti is a natural winner.  

The other winner is Alun Bolinger (NZOM) cinematographer who brings this movie together in breathtaking scenes that take us into quintessential Urewera in its spiritual overlay of people ancestors, and land set against a misty landscape merging seamlessly with Ihi, (challenging and spine tingling), wehi (awesomeness, inspiring), wana (artistry, beauty,  rhythm to behold, inner glow), and mana (authority from the ancestors).

“I suffered from a respiratory sickness and the medicine of Te Urewera cured me of that the inspiration came from her,” Ihimaera told us before the start of the movie.

This is a portrayal of a head-on clash of beliefs, deception, and ultimate salvation.                         

A modest kuia living in Te Teko who, in real life played out episodes as a nurse, mid-wife, life-giver, sometimes on horseback with a dog; Putiputi O’Brien is a living legend.  As well, I recall vividly stories from my grandmother Wairemana (granddaughter of Tutakangahau of Te Urewera) telling in graphic detail of the devastation of her Tuhoe people who like other iwi were caught up in a time of dislocation and upheavels in a changing world.  As a child, I heard of torched buildings, the destruction of crops and fruit trees, guns smashed, and left only with old horses.  Police Commissioner, John Cullen with ninety-nine fully armed and mounted police on Sunday 2 April 1916, crushed a peaceful village with violence with the deaths of two men; Toko Kenana and, Te Maipi.  Wairemana told me, she and her whanau moved out of their cherished kainga forced out by poverty through the pandemic and tortuous blitzes inflicted upon them by Crown authority.  I commend this movie to you all.  Says Karena,

“You must see this movie! It has everything; beautiful cinematography; stunning acting; a potent, powerful story.  The subtitles are more than just helping you to understand what is being said. They make a statement about a comprehensive effort to destroy a culture and people through outlawing their language.”  (Karen Walters)

 

Against this backdrop, you may recall that *The Tohunga Suppression Act of 1907 outlawed any practice of Maori medicine. This story also explores deep seated dilemmas in New Zealand; questions of identity, societal attitudes, the roles of women, and as well the tensions between western and traditional practices that still exist. The third winner is te reo.

Ihimaera opened the movie with a mihi to an expectant audience and ended to a spontaneous applause, many dabbing away tears and sitting through to the end of the credits roll.

Director Dana Rothberg, Writer John Barnett, Camera Alun Bollinger.

Haare Williams 26 June 2013

* An Act of Parliament intended to stop people using traditional healing practices which had a spiritual or supernatural element.  It was repealed in 1985.  Rua Kenana, of Tuhoe was the target of this Act.

Te Reo Survives in a Holstile Place

Haare Williams responds to the question, “Do I have to speak te reo?”  He says, “No.  But, like learning another language, it helps to develop important relationships with people you want to be with”.

To say, ‘I love words’, is to say, ‘I love people.’  From words and from people you learn and grow.  Other people give you words in a delightful way, so you use words.  Words capture the essence of what another is thinking.  He and She love words too.

From earliest contacts, Pakeha settlers had to quickly learn te reo for reasons of security, survival and for building firm foundations with tangata whenua. 

By the 1820s and 30s, The Bible translated became a tool for ‘education’ amongst Maori.  The potency of literacy was seen as some kind of magic.  As early as 1832, missionaries estimated that literacy amongst Maori at around 30 precent was quickly catching up with that of settlers at 48%.  By 1835, our two nations entered the spirit of a treaty declaration to build a new colony together, one in which two languages confirmed status and equality. 

As a kid who grew up without English, yet quickly learned to love new sounds and rhythms.  I grew up under the spell of the spoken word, in the Bible, on the marae, in waiata and whai korero, and in old Tuhoe manuscripts I read to grandparents Rimaha and Wairemana.  I knew that the spoken word was sacred to them because through it the wisdom of my ancestors is preserved and communicated. 

I learned that words captured the elegance, the beauty and power of thought.  That speech is an act of rebirth bringing the past into the present.  Words can calm, cajole, or they can inflame with wrath.  I learned that words will always carry wit, wisdom and intelligence. 

Throughout Maoridom the spoken word is held sacred because through it the wisdom of the ancestors is preserved and communicated; therefore oratory is revered, admired, to be protected (tapu).  An orator’s task is to catch the elegance, the beauty, the power of thought and make it objective in our world.


Words are about people – you can’t talk to yourself.


The Waitangi Tribunal has found that the Crown has breached the principles of the Treaty, and
that Te Reo has suffered severe prejudice as a result of the Crown’s actions and omissions.

 Our cultures are intimately interwoven with language into our landscape.  Our schools curricular, the media, government institutions are not merely acknowledging te reo, but using it meaningfully. There are many cultural crossovers in language and life styles. Maori idioms are being translated into English and used sensitively.  Maori words are used increasingly in common discourse.  Some words sit easily with Pakeha ideas, others add a different dimension in discourse; and yet there are ideas which may be better in dealing with some of the ills in our society such as dealing with dying, death, grief and healing.  But, relative judgement is unimportant compared to a willingness to acknowledge and accept difference. 

I asked a group, “Why are you learning te reo?

 “… It’s the official language of Aotearoa New Zealand.”

“Learning te reo is my way of redressing some of the cruel treatment te reo has received at the hands of the education system.”

“… it’s the key that enables me to reflect on our bicultural heritage and origins.”

 “… its a way to be a better informed New Zealander; knowing who I am as a new settler here and gaining insights into the history of my new country.”

 “… it’s my way to thank people who are bilingual, which shows us a way to understanding biculturalism and multiculturalism.”

“… what I wanted to do; I didn’t really believe that I would get the chance to learn te reo.”

 “… it’s to do with respect for te reo, leadership and setting a model for all staff to follow.”

“… it’s a beautiful language.”

 “Learning te reo gives me a sense of the sacred about our land; ‘tangata whenua – people of the land’.”

“The opportunity to learn te reo empowers me as a New Zealander living in this unique cultural, natural and historical setting within a thriving and dynamic society.”

 “… it helps me understand things and hopefully be a better informed New Zealander.  I’m from Canada.”

Sadly, many Pakeha New Zealanders still see Te Reo of no use, language as strictly utilitarian – like a spade or a cash register.  They claim that they should learn Japanese, Chinese, French, German or some other language they can do business in.

 My point is that young New Zealanders would be able to learn those languages with more enthusiasm and facility were they given the opportunity to grow up working comfortably in English and Maori.  There has existed a kind of linguistic imperialism in New Zealand.  This is much more dangerous that economic domination because our Te Reo is our soul.

Are we missing the opportunity to make coming generations of New Zealanders multilingual by not using language successfully taught in Kohanga Reo (Te Reo nests) techniques to teach resurgent Maori to all pupils in primary schools?  With the knowledge of two languages New Zealanders would more readily learn another and other languages.  A subsidiary spin off would be a richer texture of our cultures, with more stories available from Maori sources and an expanded consciousness with echoes of meaning from a plethora of Maori words and names.

Education is structurally transforming and emancipating. Wananga provided second chance education at tertiary level and provide iwi with an education that met local, cultural and Te Reo interests.  It isn’t just language at risk here, but personal identity.  This cycle of alienation, as we have seen in intergenerational, cultural deprivation is difficult to break and costly to maintain.

There is little doubt that New Zealanders possess an important literary heritage in karakia (ritual chants), tauparapara (watch alarms), waiata (song poetry), karanga (keening calls), oriori (lullaby), and others whose verbal and imaginative power, control and rhythmic strength make them formidable rivals for English prose and verse.  The integration of these notions into the New Zealand poetic tradition means a considerable enrichment of dual traditions.

What we are talking about here is unity in difference. I do not ask you abandon your convictions, nor ideologies, but neither do I have any intention of being hemmed in by my values. That would result in intellectual impoverishment, for it would mean rejecting a powerful source of development – the exchange of everything original and rich that each of us has, as vibrant nation independently created. Today I see a paradigm shift that is encouraging.  A Japanese scholar learning Te Reo once told me, “To be monolingual is to know only one universe.”  There are today about 68,000 non-Maori learning te reo.  I commend the taonga (the jewel of the soul) of Te Reo beyond Maori Language Week. 

Kia kaha, kai toa, kia maia, kia manawanui, kia mataara.  (be strong, be a champion, show resolve, stay the journey, be awake).

 

So, when you are learning, try something new. Try listening. And speaking.

Not the Price

Haare Williams of Tuhoe believes that this week we saw the emergence of a hero, the Land Rights Negotiator, Tamati Kruger whose temperate approach has inspired a nation …

Tamati Kruger - APN Media

Ko te tangata whai i nga tipu o te ora, koina te tohu Mana Motuhake

This week our nation saw a hero emerge in the stature of Tamati Kruger, the Tuhoe Land Rights Negotiator.  He will be remembered like Parekura Horomia, for his assertive but temperate approach in the face of a long and protracted trail of betrayal by the state.  A month ago, I asked Kruger, “What’s the price of Settlement?”  His reply was quick but calm, “… not the price but the cost?”

“Heroes don’t live forever, but those who live without trying are forgotten.”

On a chilly Saturday morning July 24 1991, Te Whakatohea and Ngati Awa, including Wairemana Taia, great grand-daughter of Mokomoko assembled at Waiaua Marae (Opotiki) to hear Sir Douglas Graham as Minister of Justice.  It was one of the most moving moments of the post-colonial era as the minister presented the Mokomoko tribe with the deed of official pardon.  In Te Kooti and Rua Kenana we heard negative (Pakeha) constructs of Tuhoe as dissidents, who provided sanctuary for criminals in the Urewera canopy of bush, mountains and mist.

“Sorry.”  Saying that word to a parent, a sibling, a wife, a friend, a people or a nation is emancipatory.  And what about saying “Sorry”, to nature.  Yet for some, it is one of the hardest things to do.

For many, there is a problem.  For some, it is in the giving; they cannot handle it.  For others, it is the receiving.  They cannot accept it.  What about you?  We all know that apologies can heal yet no one seems prepared to put up a hand and start.  We live in a society that is prone to blame rather than take responsibility for our actions.  Actions that hurt another.  Pride too gets in the way, but sooner or later we all do something that hurt another.

Apologising is probably the healthiest, most cleansing of actions we can ever make.  So take a deep breath, phone mum, dad, a friend someone you have avoided for some time and simply say, “Sorry Mum,” I know of four where these simple words have changed their lives forever.  Confession is a charade unless it is matched with genuine action.

While there is still a cultural sniff at the work of The Waitangi Tribunal, there are many reasons why its actions be applauded as they lay the foundations for a future Aotearoa New Zealand.  The tribunal places a lot of importance on our future as a nation and the growing importance of biculturalism across a culturally diverse nation.  It is also acting as a catalyst in preparing for some dramatic social and political changes now taking place.  Te Tiriti o Waitangi-The Treaty of Waitangi agenda through the work of the tribunal holds the greatest potential for peace and justice in our own land.

Mokomoko was executed for a crime he did not commit.  A congregation of Catholic Maori women, children and elderly men were butchered by the Militia while in worship on a Sunday at Rangiaowhia near Te Awamutu in 1864. In the US, teen Karla Tucker was executed for a crime she committed a half a lifetime earlier as a drunk-sodden prostitute.  To the humanist in us, these are barbarous acts even in the American south where guns are fondled as the accoutrements of manhood, where the John Wayne swagger is a statement of manliness; they do not seem to understand that gratuitous violence and counter violence soon become the same thing.  Is this the only way to mitigate public outrage?  Where is forgiveness?  We saw forgiveness rise out of South Africa through Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu.  It happened in our own parliament this week.

Let us think of forgiveness, not as a weakness but an act of courage and strength, as a humane and decent gesture.  Let us suggest that where there is no forgiveness, there is little hope for a better society, then despair and its hoon companions of rage and violence slips easily into the vacuum.

Before healing can occur in the hearts of the aggrieved, repentance is a start that is followed by confession.  Restitution follows; a genuine attempt to restore that which has been damaged and seek justice whatever the cost.

Tuhoe have never been passive.  For over a century, they were portrayed by the state as offensive in various forms of resistance before being dispossessed by a combination of military force and the legislative power of the state.  This kind of intemperate action seemed to Maori to be convincing proof that (some) Pakeha New Zealanders can be very rabid in defense of their assimilationist agenda.  After all Tuhoe, the children of the mist they say harboured criminals and lawbreakers.

Forgiveness and redemption come when we recognise that we have the ability to empower ourselves and others by simply saying, “Sorry.”

“Tamati, is the price enough?”  Kruger replied, “$171 million for the expropriation of land, language and wellbeing?  How much is enough?” 

At the heart of our nation is a spirit of generosity, the light of redemption that Kruger is holding up above the gloom from which shines maungarongo (peace and redemption), whanaungatanga (hospitality and generosity), Kaitiakitanga (protection of our core values), and mana (authority of the partners of the treaty). 

… thank you Tamati for showing us how naked we are in the wake of a litany of betrayals.

“…those who live without trying are forgotten.” 

 

 

 

 

Matariki - Our Earth

“As a child I went into the chill of morning to greet a special group of stars to welcome Te Matahi o te Tau, The Freshness of a New Beginning.”  Haare Williams comments. 



History of Matariki - www.matarikievents.co.nz



Looking to Aotearoa New Zealand for something special?  Then look no more.  Instead, look up to the heavens and you may be blessed by a sighting of the seven stars of Pleiades - Matariki.

 

When you discover them, you’ll find something that is richly Aotearoa. Our country has changed more than some realise and getting to know that this richness is a part of change. Many corporate organisations including The Maritime Museum and The Auckland War Memorial Museum will this year highlight this event.  Why?

Not so long ago, many New Zealanders used to cringe at some aspects of our cultural heritage, especially when it came to stories like that of the taniwha, Patupaearehe and ngarara. 

The cosmic rising of Matariki set the start of the Maori New Year.  Unlike the western calendar, the Maori year was determined by the ‘Nights of the moon’ and not by the ‘Days of the month’.  The Maori seasons were read in the stars, which began and ended with the heliacal rising (or setting) of certain stars. Pleiades was the main determinant for the seasons here and in Pasifika, India, Burma and South America.  In England the group is known as “The Seven Sisters”, in Japan it’s “Subaru”.  The Greeks referred to them as Pleiades.

As a kid, I joined my koro and kuia in the chill of dawn to celebrate the signs (tohu) which heralded the Maori New Year.  When Puanga (Rigel) appeared in May, it signalled that Matariki would soon follow.  But it was the new moon that followed Matariki that marked the beginning of the Maori year. 

The rising of Puanga (Rigel) heralded the start known as, Te Matahi o te Tau,” The gift of a fresh beginning.”  The year’s beginning was not a fixed time.  It varied from year to year rather like Easter, each ‘month’ determined precisely by the night of the new moon.

Besides the rising and setting of certain constellations, there were other signs which signalled seasonal change, amongst these the flowering of plants like the kowhai, sprouting of ferns, the mating and moulting of birds’ feathers, singing of insects, and the arrival and departure of two migratory birds. 

The first night was ‘Whiro’, not a good time for anything; the sixteenth was ‘Turu’, a good time for sea foods; the twenty-eighth night was ‘Whiro’, the disappearance of the moon.  After twenty-eight nights the new moon started a new cycle.  

The seasons were believed to have a profound effect on the lives of people in their actions, moods, desires, lovemaking, ovulation, conception, contraception, birth, and helped to shape one’s destiny as in astrology.  Maori too could foretell and control weather, tides and seasons. 

Each night is named according to a particular phase of the moon and determined planting, harvesting, fishing and other activities. The moon, ever connected with water has associations with names like Tangaroa who is [1]kaitiaki of tides.  When Hinauri (The Dark Moon and sister of Maui) crossed the ocean to a far away land (Aotearoa), she married Tinirau, son of Tangaroa and made their home on Motutapu Island.

Summer and Winter solstices were personified in Hineraumati (Summer Maid) and Hinetakurua (Winter Maid) the seasonal lovers of Tamanui-te-Ra (the sun).  Daughters of Tangaroa, Winter Maid live out at sea, and Summer Maid on land.  Tamanui-te-Ra spends half the year with Hineraumati the other with Hinetakurua.

We now show less of the cultural cringe that once made us insist that England was ‘home’.  Recent interest in the Maori lunar year with the cosmic rising of Matariki has increased over the past five years.  John Campbell of TV3, ‘Campbell Live’, attributed to the constellation as; “A more appropriate celebration than Queen’s Birthday”. I note too that the Auckland Harbour Board Chair, Sir Bob Harvey is signalling that Matariki should be accepted as a national event. Piripi Haami, Far Northland leader says, “It’s time we had our own special celebrations.”  I go along with Campbell, Sir Bob, and Haami. 

Isn’t it time we pensioned-off the tired old celebrations that had their roots in another hemisphere and a heaven that few believe in. Pension-off Queen’s Birthday, and instead celebrate the Maori New Year, an event indigenous to us, which happens around the same time. Matariki speaks to us of home and of a natural order and, unlike the monarchy, it’s readily accessible. 

In 2003, the new moon rose on 20 June.  In 2007 on Sunday 20 June and last year (2012) on Sunday 22 June coinciding exactly with the winter solstice.

We should all be honest and say that December 25 is no longer a Christian festival.  It is a riotous mid-summer end-of-year commercial orgy.  Of course Christ should be in Christmas, but Christmas is out of place here in our summer. 

Our society can be enriched by the stories of Matariki, taniwha and other deities like Patupaearehe and Papatuanuku which sounds more like us in our own landscape. 

So, let’s have a riotous southern hemisphere mid-winter-end-of-year fest without the commercial trappings, one that sings with reminders of rebirth, spring, growth and hope; let’s all have festivals that celebrate our place with the vibrancy of spring life in our corner of Earth.

---

[1] Kaitiaki ‘a watchful guardian, protection of the potentiality in all things, hence Kaitiakitanga

Tangihanga

This week, Haare Williams reminds us that it’s okay to open your heart and sob openly.  Of all Maori institutions, he says the tangihanga is the most enduring and has survived the avalanche of European culture as he say farewell to Parekura Horomia.

“E tangi  te tangi hotu, tangihia te rangatira, whakangungua ki te waiata ki te roimata me te aroha …”.

In 1864 Kereopa Te Rau, a trainee priest of The Anglican Church at Rangiaowhia in Otorohanga Waikato was to challenge the very foundations of British colonisation.  While he was away on church missions amongst Maori, his wife, child and relatives were locked up in a chapel by British soldiers and torched.  Those who managed to get away were slashed or shot.  On his return, a distraught Kereopa returned to Taranaki blaming Anglican ministers for the carnage.  He renounced his Christian faith on the ashes of his whanau and turning to Hau Hau he vowed to kill the very next missionary he met.  That hapless person happened to be the missioner Rev Carl Volker who was amongst Te Whakatohea in Opotiki.  Kereopa fled back to Taranaki, but his Te Whakatohea hosts were either arrested or relocated.  Amongst Te Whakatohea leaders arrested, Mokomoko who with eight others was incarcerated in Auckland’s Mt Eden Prison without trial.  The moteatea that he composed and sang on 17 May 1866, moments before he was hanged was retribution for the death of Volkner.  His women were there to hear the song – a reminder of the pain born out of the Crown’s unfulfilled promises. 

 

The Tangihanga remains the last core practice in which taonga still play a major role, connecting ancestors and descendants with their wider estates, as these can still nourish communal well-being.

Parekura Horomia was sent off from a rain soaked Gisborne, where we were joined by hundreds on ‘The Chief’s’ last journey home.  Along forty long kms of winding East Coast road to Hauiti Marae to a welcome befitting royalty.  The rain pelted down.  In live action this is one of the most intimate of all Maori institutions; the tangihanga. It is here that you know it is okay to open your heart and cry openly.  It is to be Maori in its truest setting.  Except perhaps during the undertaker’s preparations, the body is never left alone attended constantly by kuia and closest kin.  Parekura was laid outside under the mahau (veranda) of the ancestral Ruakapanga.  In some districts the body lies inside.    Those around the casket glean comfort from the expressions of aroha through an embrace or hongi, and from the tributes made by a succession of orators.  As with a Pakeha funeral, the tangi is sad, it is also a joyous time and equally a time for the living.  It is a time to patch up rifts and reconcile whanau differences.  For that reason and for many others the tangi continues to be an enduring feature of Maori custom.  Waves of mourners came to pay their last respects each time keening break out afresh.  In one wave  alone busloads of Tuhoe, Ngati Kahungunu and Waikato with King Tuheitia was joined by the entire Caucus of Labour led by David Shearer and Shane Jones.  This was only the first day.  The eulogies reflected the greatness of a practical, humble and a humane leader. The tributes flowed inlaid with gentler moments of the former minister’s connectedness to people and nation.  An elder from Waikaremoana delighted with a story that was followed by laughter, nodding and clapping:

He arrived unannounced for a tangi at a Waikaremoana Moana where he later joined the kids outside the meeting house.  And with a beaming smile he spoke to them.

“Kia ora kids!”

“Kia ora chief.” Not knowing their guest, they asked,

“Ko wai koe – who are you?”

“Ko Parekura au, I’m Parekura.”

“Are you a big chief?”

“We’re all chiefs – you and me and everyone here. He rangatira tatau katoa.”

Then Parekura jammed the kids into his chauffeur driven limousine and took off around our dusty roads, into the bush and to the lake.  The kid’s impression at the end of their ride?

“Gee you’re ok chief.”

“Remember, you can be all be the best in what you do.”

He treated everyone as having chiefly status.

 Mourners came great distances often a day travelling and another going home.  Many travel only on the day of internment.  But for the ‘home folk’, relatives and for many who give their services, it means anything up to a week of constant assistance.  In earlier times, it still applies today in some areas, manuhiri did not arrive at the marae where there is a tupapaku after dark.  An ope would sit it out in their buses, vans and cars or move to another marae where there is no tupapaku.  Yet, in Te Tai Tokerau, I have walked on with a group irrespective of the time of day. We saw Police and The Maori Wardens Association in action managing traffic, behaviour and people like us trapped in a muddy spot.

Male elders must always be at hand for the obligatory whai korero (orations).  And after the burial there is still a great deal to be done before the whanau is returned to their home for takahi kainga (tramping the home).  Food, which plays a big part in manaakitanga, has to be gathered, bought, prepared, and served in this case continuously.

It is customary for women to head mourning parties when they move onto the marae.  The poroporoaki (farewells) are tributes delivered by the men in whai korero (orations) and by women in karanga (keening calls), apakura (long dirges) and waiata (song poems). 




Orations in the rain for a great man, Hauiti Marae in Tologa Bay 2 May 2013


An Ohaki (final song) is a living taonga handed down and offered and when performed shows great mana, the power of taonga to hold people together.  Mokomoko and his comrades finally received a pardon.  In 1991 on the Kaiaua Marae, not far from Tologa, their disinterred remains were finally brought home to rest alongside their tribal kin of Te Tairawhiti.

Parekura, you have been a totara whakaruruhau, a giant, a ‘chief ‘– we and your nation have been richly blessed by your life.

Maori No Longer an Economic Risk

An economic wave, a cultural swell – or a treaty tsunami?  There’s much to celebrate here.

Over the past decade and a bit, we have seen the slow perception that being Maori is no longer an obstacle to economic growth.  The politically correct “add on …” has changed dramatically.

Mr Leith Comer, retiring Head of Te Puni Kokiri told us last year, “A year after I took office, the Maori economy was valued at $9 billion. Last year, with Maori-owned and operated business, tourism, fisheries, agriculture, forestry and other industries, those assets are now worth $39 billion and still counting.”  The former army chief added, “Maori success in business is hugely important to the wider perception of Maori by New Zealanders.”

So what’s happening?

All this change is taking place right under our noses without the public or (it seems) the media having anything informed about it. 

 No longer a risk, Maori culture and our way of doing business is now seen to enhance New Zealand business. Ngai Tahu, Tainui, Tuwharetoa, Te Arawa … these iwi on their own are making huge turnaround  gains. We are seeing Maori being self-employed and are increasingly becoming employers in Christchurch, Taupo, Rotorua and Hamilton. My own iwi in Gisborne own two trawlers fishing continuously off shore and training rangatahi at the local Polytechnic for work and in work. 

Yes … we still have to battle with knockers inside and outside Parliament who have questioned this success and whether Maori need a distinct economic development agency, like Te Puni Kokiri. The New Zealand Herald for instance claimed that Te Puni Kokiri alone could not claim sole credit for Maori gains in the past decade.  Mr Comer didn’t say that.

When the Tainui made several poor investments after its historic Treaty of Waitangi settlement deal in 1995, the media and the righteous rump of New Zealand went into hysterical top gear saying, that Maori should not be granted settlements as a waste of tax payer’s money.  Better business decisions since have silenced those critics as Maori companies break loose and earned respect in New Zealand.  Maori by being Maori have a distinct advantage by tapping into the lucrative global market especially in China. The Chinese way of doing things is very similar to the Maori way of doing things; kanohi ki te kanohi, they like to develop relationships and think about things in a longer frame.

Most gains in China had been made by traditional sectors - tourism, agriculture and fisheries - but new markets were also developing for Maori, including the sale of honey.  These business advances had been matched by a greater political clout for Maori in the past decade.  The number of Maori politicians has increased, and four of eight political parties were led by Maori MPs. Maori will sustain their presence in The House but the transition at the moment is difficult to measure.

The treaty settlement process while it is still on-going, includes deals with Tuhoe and Auckland-based iwi Ngati Whatua, over the past year.  There are many high points in Maori development:  Maori Television and the Maori involvement in the 2011 Rugby World Cup are two.

Recent acquisition of major interests in fisheries and growing diversification of land use shows that Maori entered the ‘knowledge wave economy’ in the 1990s using Maori based structures of tikanga and Maori culture and the Maori experience of Kohanga Reo, Kura Kaupapa, Whare Wananga, Kapa Haka, Maori TV and Maori Radio, and Maori entrepreneurial know-how in business, yet not losing the integrity of Tikanga.  As well, there are young and impatient Maori leaders interested in development, economics, and education as the only way forward; they say, “… rights only go so far, a good education, a good job, a stable home is for the longer answer.  Maori is showing increasing entry into tertiary education.

For the first time since the mid-nineteenth century, people who suppressed their Maoriness, now express it assertively.  It is a view from the high ground of a new millennium.  We should know where we have come from and where we are going.  People cannot be blamed for what they do not know, but they can perhaps be held accountable for what they do not know today, especially if their ignorance of the nature of our history is wilful and results in a perpetuation of inequalities and injustice. 

Of course … Europeans brought churches, schools, technology, trade and banks with them.  Maori welcomed and enjoyed these innovations into their economies and technologies.  Land was gifted by Waikato as an endowment for missionary schools and churches.  Large areas across Waikato were cultivated in wheat, potatoes, maize, kumara,  and other crops including orchards and the breeding of stock.  With missionary help, Maori built, owned and operated several flour mills and by the end of 1858 in an area from Waiuku to Ngaruawahia and across to Thames, Tainui owned and operated thrity-seven flour mills.  In addition 53 vessels of over 20 tons were registered as being in Maori ownership and the annual total of waka entering the harbour was listed as more than 1,700.   In the 1850s and 1860s, Waikato Maori had established their own trading bank.

Sadly though, Maori New Zealanders make up a disproportionate per centage of New Zealand’s, patients, defendants, inmates and unemployed, but education starting at Kohanga Reo is changing the cultural pattern of failure.

Good road signs ahead … a ground breaking educational programme for Mori students has had dramatic results on all students’ NCEA marks.  Te Kotahitanga, a pilot programme aimed at improving Maori achievement in schools has had resounding results.   Two of these, started in 2005 were James Cook High in Manurewa and Te Awamutu College in the Waikato.  Both recorded the number of Maori students achieving level 1 jumped from 13% to 38% in one year, and from 19% to 62% respectively in just one year.  Other schools have joined the programme and, says Dr Russell Bishop of Waikato University monitoring the programme, “When you help teachers to reach those kids, they then start teaching them as effectively as they teach everyone else, then the results take off.”

Maori leaders, like Sir Mark Solomon told us, “Yes, it’s good to have money and the things that money can buy to progress iwi and whanau, but it’s good too to check up once in a while and make sure we haven’t lost the things that money can’t buy.” 

I'm not a prophet but I’m more than optimistic for the future of our blessed nation.  The new wave in education, management and economics;  Education is the only antidote I know to combat hopelessness, failure, home violence and the poor Maori health indices that’s a shameful blip on our social landscape.

The leadership by working closely with Maori organisations is aiming to broaden work on Treaty issues, Maori tourism, and Maori connections with global markets.  "Whatever is good for Maori is good for our nation, and that's the best way forward”, Comer concluded. 

Make Maori richer and we are all richer as a nation. That is the nub of the treaty in the wake of the rights revolution.    

He ngaru tua whenua, ka u – the third wave taking the waka to the safety of the shore.

He Taonga Koutou - You Are Taonga

Te Wherowhero and Pukekawa, Te Toi o Tamaki, Te Noho Kotahitanga, Tamaki Paenga Hira and later Te Ana o te Huinga o Tangaroa – by engaging with public space as we have done over the past four weeks, we learn as much about ourselves and our space through te reo. These names and events teach us a lot about the meaning of taonga. We learn to belong, succeed, grow and change. By growth through the essence of taonga, you become a kaitiaki or the guardian of something Maori call taonga. 

Taonga shaped my tribal landscape - no story was complete without taonga’ in waiata (song poems), mere (a weapon), whakaaturanga (paintings), or korowai (cloak). Taonga opened door-ways to my tribal landscape through which I came to experience ancestral imaginings of time and surrounding space.  

Taonga are infused with mana (personal charisma), ihi (power, possibility, potentiality), wehi (fearful, reverence), wairua (living spirit).


He taonga tuku iho

Taonga are time travelers.  In our time such taonga do not just represent ancestors - they become the ancestor ... and I the taonga. Taonga reached their fullest expression when performed by elders in marae-like contexts especially during life crises like tangihanga. 

 

For those who work in museums, myself included, know what Taonga mean. But what is probably missing is the taonga and stories that are so intimately connected, be it in a waiata (song poems), a mere (weapon), whakaaturanga (paintings, photos) or korowai (cloak). The mere sight of taonga opens doorways to ancetral imaginings of time, place, and people in another space. I was a privileged kid in that I didn’t start school until I was eight, but in that time I was able to interalise so much of the te ao Maori (the Maori world view) that Wairemana and Rimaha passed on. They, like me went through a time of dislocation and upheavels in a changing world. Many of their generation preferred to bury taonga, hide them underground or in cardboard boxes under a bed. 

'Pakeha' institutions as plunderers of taonga, thankfully that's now changing.

Maori have held a deep seated distrust of museums, art galleries and libraries as ‘Pakeha’ institutions that ‘stole’ taonga. Thankfully that’s changing.   Roy Clare, Auckland Museum Director gave us this taonga, he says “… give our young two things to enable them to take on the world; the ability to read and a chance to meet their ancestral taonga here”.  Taonga loans, returns, and repatriation have eased some of the tensions over the Kaitiakitanga (guardianship) of taonga.

Colonisation almost killed the heart of taonga – the treaty of Waitangi nevertheless represents a negotiated boundary by which Maori invited British access across their threshold into their homelands as respected manuhiri (guests) and extend manaakitanga (generosity and hospitality).  This agreed partnership was to form a nation of Niu Tireni (New Zealand) in the form of four Articles the first Maori recognition of the Crown’s right to govern (Kawanatanga), the second the Crown’s promise to recognize and uphold the chief’s tino rangatiratanga (authority) over their whenua (estates), marae communities (kainga) and taonga katoa (all ancestrally important objects, items or things).  Then the third promised Maori the full rights and privileges of British citizenship.  A fourth gave protection to their spiritual values.  With the promise of the treaty Maori entered the spirit of building a new colony.  At the time, there were over 500 Maori for every Pakeha living in Aotearoa.  They were betrayed by the British and the fall out has cut deep.  Colonisation did not, for my part kill the heart of taonga.



“…you might have to die for this your taonga from us,” I was the cherished
son of my grandparents Rimaha and Wairemana our home a whare raupo.

Before my grandmother, Wairemana died she took me to Hiwarau, a summit mountain overlooking the Ohiwa Harbour and the ancient lands of Tuhoe most of it gone under confiscations, I was twelve but remember her words, “ … one day you will become a doctor, a lawyer or a teacher; one day you might have to fight for this land, you might have to die for this taonga.”
 
 Taonga opened the window for me to understanding what it really means to serve your tribe, to serve future generations, sometimes even at the cost of your own life.  Are today’s descendants prepared to die for the ancestors, their kin or those yet to be born?