TE AO HOU
The New World
the department of maori affairs SEPTEMBER 1961
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TE AO HOU
THE NEW WORLD
LETTER TO OUR READERS
In the beginning of last year, I withdrew from the editorship of this paper with the purpose of experiencing life in a Maori community at first hand. After a stay of 16 months in the Whangaruru district, I have resumed my previous job, better equipped I hope through the deeper insight my friends at Whangaruru have given me.
To sum up these insights would take the space of a book rather than an editorial; it must suffice to say that I came back strengthened in my belief that the Maori people greatly enrich New Zealand both culturally and spiritually. I hope the magazine can give my new friends pleasure in their isolated life, help in some of their practical difficulties and of facts and ideas that will perhaps provide a clearer understanding of some of the puzzling changes in our communities.
Readers do not always spot the articles they would find useful. For instance, we published an article on kumara rot two years ago; yet not a single person from the infested areas, as far as I know, has actually read the article and followed the very useful advice it gives. I have now published a second article on kumara rot, in the hope that this one will have some effect; after all, it is worth some effort to save the kumara which in some places is hardly planted today, because of this disease.
News of what people are doing is of special importance in Te Ao Hou, because relations and friends are often so widely separated today. I hope that I shall get far more news and gossip—clubs, weddings, trips abroad, sports news, and so on—than I received in the past. Certainly it will be given far more space and stories about people will be our first priority.
Also, I hope to hear more from Maori readers, including the younger ones, in the way of letters. What do you think the magazine should really be publishing? What do you think of the new ideas on Maori questions, such as those discussed in the Hunn report?
There is unfortunately still a lack of material in the Maori language. In most villages there are still people who know the old stories; we wish these could be sent to us. Even if they are on tape-recordings, we can use them by copying the text from tape, then returning the tape to its former owner. Over the next five years, many of our old scholars are likely to pass away. Let us do our utmost to record their knowledge before it is too late.
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HAERE KI O KOUTOU
JUDGE WILLIAM F. PORTER
Mr William Field Porter, Judge of the Maori Land Court, died suddenly at his home in Whangarei in June at the age of 61.
Mr Porter, who originally came from Auckland, entered the legal profession when he joined the practice of the late John Alexander. He later became a partner in the firm of Messrs Lusk, Willis, Sproule and Woodhouse in Wairoa, Hawkes Bay, and was legal officer on the staff of the State Advances Corporation.
From there he joined the Maori Land Court and was appointed Judge in Whangarei in April 1958.
MR KINGI ARETA KEIHA
A former commanding officer of the Maori Battalion in the 2nd World War, Mr Kingi Areta Keiha died suddenly at his home in Gisborne. He was aged 62.
The deceased sailed from New Zealand with the Second Echelon, which included the first Maori group to go overseas with the Army in the Second World War.
Mr Keiha at that time held the rank of second lieutenant and he served with the battalion in Greece, Crete and the Middle East, succeeding Lieutenant Colonel C. M. Bennett, as commanding Officer when Lieutenant Colonel Bennett was severaly wounded in action.
Mr Keiha returned to New Zealand with a furlough draft in February, 1944, and joined the newly-created Rehabilitation Department as Maori rehabilitation officer.
Later he transferred to the Maori Affairs Department and was district welfare officer until he left the department in 1951 to enter private practice as a licensed interpreter and Maori agent.
MRS RAUTANGATA HUTANA
The death occurred recently at Whataarakai, of Mrs Rautangata Hutana, aged 65, a well-known and respected resident of the Waipawa district.
Mrs Hutana was a direct descendant of the chief Parakiore on her father's side, and Te Rangihakahaka on her mother's side.
Mrs Hutana will be remembered best locally by her singing efforts to raise funds during World War I. She was an active member of the Maori War Effort Organisation during World War II.
MR HORIMA HAKOPA TE
The death occurred suddenly at Wairoa recently of Mr Horima Hakopa te Awarangi, a well-known and respected resident of the district.
Mr te Awarangi, who was 48, served in World War II and was an active member of the Tapuwai football and hockey clubs.
MRS TATI TE ROHE HUA
Mrs Tati Te Rohe Hua has died at Te Awamutu. There is no written record of her birth, but her family, after careful comparison of the ages of her descendants, estimate her age to have been 115.
Mrs Hua had two children, both of whom are still living. Her son, Mr Puke Hua, of Rakaunui, on the shore of Kawhai Harbour, is aged about 90.
MRS HINGA WALKER
Mrs Hinga Walker died in Wellington recently in her 68th year. Mrs Walker had a long association with welfare work among the Maori people and was held in high esteem for her example and high standard of character. She was especially interested in the work of the Maori Women's Welfare Committee, in hospital visiting, and in the welfare of Maori girls in the city.
She was the first Maori woman warden in the Wellington area. This office gave official recognition to her work and increased the scope of her service in the city.
Mrs Walker was a member of the Ngati Poneke Tribal Committee and was vice-president of the Christchurch Te Waipounamu Girls' College Old Girls' Association.
MR JAMES WHITE
The death occurred at Waitara recently of Mr James White (Manu Teuaua), an influential elder of the Atiawa tribe. He was aged 68. Mr White was active in Maori welfare and sporting admin-
istration, and took a keen interest in youth work.
Mr White was one of the persons responsible for getting the permission of the Atiawa people to allow last year's Waitara swamp search to take place. He assisted the director of the Canterbury Museum, Dr Roger Duff, in meeting tribal elders and explaining the objective of the excavation.
At the time of his death Mr White was the chairman and a trustee of the Ngatirahiri subtribe of the Atiawa tribe.
In his working days he was employed at the Waitara freezing works. For many years he was a contract boner, and gained a reputation for a high standard of workmanship.
Since his retirement about 10 years ago Mr White had taken an active interest in the grounds of the Manukorihi pa. He devoted many hours to keeping the area tidy and did all these duties in an honorary capacity.
He was an enthusiastic sportsman in his younger days as a Rugby player and roller skater. He represented Taranaki at Rugby and later, when president of the Atiawa Rugby Club, was the Maori representative to the Taranaki Rugby Union.
His sporting interests were wide. In more recent times he was president of the Raukura Tennis Club, the Raukura Softball Club, the Raukura Table Tennis Club and the Waitara Young Peoples' Club.
RICHARD GAVIN McINTYRE
A well-known Rotorua identity and a member of the Te Arawa tribe recently passed away at the Rotorua Hospital in his 88th year. His funeral was at Kokohinau Pa, Te Teko, a district where he had been a successful farmer for many years.
Born in the Taupo area, “Dick” Park clearly remembered when Mr. Tarawera erupted in 1886. He was about 12 years old at that time and astride a white horse some distance from the scene of destruction and therefore escaped the fate of his mother, and other members of his immediate family who were killed by the eruption.
His father, also Richard Park, was a Scotchman who became the first Postmaster at Taupo and was assigned by the Government to let the first trout loose in that lake that is now so famous for fishing. His mother was a chieftainness of Tuwharetoa, Te Angaangawaero Merepeka Poia … by name, and through her lineage “Dick” Park could claim connection to many tribes through famous ancestors. He was related closely to the well-known Ngati Toa chief Te Rauparaha.
Educated at Te Aute College and St. Patrick's school, Wellington, he furthered his studies at Victoria University, where he took a keen interest in the legal profession. However, the Land Court judge Percy Smith took young “Dick” under his wing and made him a cadet in his Wellington office. While at Te Aute College with Ngata, Buck, and other well known members of the Maori Party, he excelled in sport; was a member of the rugby fifteen, and took an interest in wrestling. In the winter examinations at the age of 17, he came second to the head College boy (who was the son of the European teacher Mr Reed). Later Mr Park was the constant companion of Elsdon Best and acted as the Maori Interpreter for the Commission when that body was appointed to make sure of titles to 600,000 acres of Uruwera land.
Mr Park was a Boer War Veteran, and at the time of his death was one of the three surviving Maori veterans.
At one stage of his life he stood for Parliament when he contested the Eastern Maori electorate against Sir Apirana Ngata, but was defeated. He was a well known figure on many a Marae and was a licensed interpreter.
He is survived by three sons, grandchildren, and great grandchildren.
Sent in by
George F. Howe
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AVAILABLE at your STATIONER
|Why Maoris Choose the Army||7|
|The Maori Education Foundation, by the Rt Rev. W. N. Panapa, Bishop of Aotearoa||10|
|The New World, Short Story by He Manuka||11|
|B.A., M.A. or Doctor? Short Story translated by Sid Mead||17|
|Primitive Music in New Zealand, by Mary Martin||22|
|Tukutuku at Tokomaru Bay, by Mrs B. L. Turner||24|
|Girls Come to the City||28|
|Revival of Maori Leadership?||32|
|The Meeting House ‘Te Poho o Tamaterangi’ by Margaret Orbeill||35|
|Maori Village is Rapidly Modernized, by Alan Taylor||37|
|Talking of Honesty, Short Story by Rowley Habib||45|
|Haere Ki o Koutou Tipuna||3|
|Woodwork: A Simple Wardrobe, by K. Harrison||48|
|Book Reviews: Warfare of the Maori (Vayda, Maori Warfare, by E. G. Schwimmer||51|
|The Education Handicap (Ausubel, Maori Youth), by B. E. Souter||54|
|Farming Newsletter: Farm Work in Spring, by W. J. Petersen||57|
|The Home Garden: Black Rot in Kumara, by R. G. Falconer||58|
|Sport: We Saw Communist China during World Table Tennis Championship, by Neti Davis||59|
|Crossword Puzzle No. 34||61|
|Records: Still Popular after Thirty Years, by Allen Armstrong||63|
|Ko te Reo Maori
I Rangona Atu Nga Pu (he waiata)
|Te B.A., te M.A., te Takuta Ranei?. na Hirini Moko||17|
|Ki te Etita (Paahi Moke, Pei te Hurinui)||41|
|‘Maori Mementos’, na Nau Puriri i Tango Mai i nga Korero o Nehera||42|
|Kahu Mamahu, na John Wilson||44|
The Minister of Maori Affairs: The Hon. J. R. Hanan.
The Secretary for Maori Affairs: J. K. Hunn.
Management Committee: Chairman: B. E. Souter, Asst. Secretary. Members: W. Hetewini, M. R. Jones, W. T. Ngata, E. G. Schwimmer, E. J. Shea, M. J. Taylor.
Editor: E. G. Schwimmer.
Associate Editor (Maori text): N. P. K. Puriri.
Sponsored by the Maori Purposes Fund Board. Subscriptions to Te Ao Hou at 7/6 per annum (4 issues) or £1 for three years' subscriptions at all offices of the Maori Affairs Department and P.O. Box 2390, Wellington, New Zealand.
Registered at G.P.O., Wellington, for transmission through the post as a magazine.
Editorial Address: P.O. Box 2390, Wellington.
published by the department of maori affairs september 1961
printed by pegasus press ltd.
Maori Section. As Mr W. T. Ngata is now Secretary to the Minister of Maori Affairs, he has relinquished the post of Associate Editor for the Maori text of Te Ao Hou. His place has been taken by Mr N. P. K. Puriri, Assistant Controller of Maori Welfare. It will be his aim to strengthen the magazine's Maori language section and—incidentally—there will also be a change of dialect, as Nau Puriri comes from Tokerau.
Contributions will be published in any of the standard forms of spelling now being used. Mr Puriri favours the use of the macron to show long vowels, but if contributors consistently use the double vowel instead, their spelling will be retained.
Back Issues. It is still possible to buy some back issues of Te Ao Hou by writing to the Editor, Te Ao Hou, P.O. Box 2390, Wellington. We have in stock: a few copies of issues 14, 15, 16 and 17, at 5/- per copy, and copies of issues 18 and following, at 2/6 each. Issues 1–13 are now all sold out.
Renewal Stickers: If your subscription is expiring, you will find an expiry sticker on the wrapper of your issue. Please examine the wrapper carefully and if the sticker appears on it, send us a renewal as soon as possible on the form enclosed with the issue.
Contributions in Maori: Ko tetahi o nga whakaaro nui o Te Ao Hou he pupuri kia mau te reo Maori. Otira ko te nuinga o nga korero kei te tukua mai kei te reo Pakeha anake. Mehemea hoki ka nui mai nga korero i tuhia ki te reo Maori ka whakanuia ake te wahanga o ta tatou pukapuka mo nga korero Maori.
A Disclaimer. The Department of Maori Affairs does not hold itself responsible for the opinions expressed by contributors to Te Ao Hou. We do our best to check the facts, but the responsibility for statements in signed articles remains the author's alone.
The magazine as a text in schools. Our subscription rate for schools is 4/- per year (min. 5 subscriptions).
Part of every New Zealander's heritage is the joys of forest and stream. Campers, trampers, anglers, shooters, picnickers, and caravanners—all like to get away from the clock-ridden daily round to the fresh air and beauty of the bush.
It may not be obvious, but until the conservation policies of the Forest Service replaced the wasteful practices of the past, there was grave danger that this heritage might be lost. Each acre of forest destroyed by fire or indiscriminate milling makes it harder to meet the demand for the solace of solitude—a demand that increases every day with our expanding population. To meet its responsibilities in the protection of State forests, the Forest Service exercises its authority with wisdom and restraint. While unauthorised entry to State Forests is prohibited by law, a liberal policy of issuing permits enables organised groups and individuals to make extensive use of these popular playgrounds for recreational purposes.
Issued in the interests of forest protection by The New Zealand Forest Service.
WHY MAORIS CHOOSE
My visit to Burnham Camp coincided with the heaviest rainfall of the year. The flow of water was a reasonable preparation for monsoon weather in Malaya, but the temperature in middle July added that extra twang which builds up endurance. Much to everyone's regret, two companies had gone on a long route march just before the full attack of the elements began.
The overwhelming impression of the camp was of high pressure activity. The outsider tends to imagine there is something essentially sleepy about a peacetime army; Burnham camp however is stirring day and evening, with a sense of purpose pervading almost everyone.
It was not until well into June that the battalion reached its full complement; it is due in Malaya in November. This poses the task of converting civilians into battle-fit soldiers within the space of a few months—teaching the handling of weapons, the practice of modern warfare and, most important of all, making the soldiers physically fit and mentally adjusted to active military service.
The men collaborate in this high pressure training because of their keenness to go to Malaya. Only well-trained men will be selected for transport this year; it becomes therefore everyone's ambition to reach the desired standard.
As a result the recruits not only accept the toughness of the programme but attend voluntary training sessions in the evenings as well. Even the men who came back at 4 p.m. on the day of my visit, frozen to the bone during the long, wet route march, were back with the training officer that same night.
The strength of the battalion is between 900 and 1000 men consisting of four rifle companies and a headquarters company. Of these, 700 men will go to Malaya, the rest being kept behind as a reinforcement company, comprising late enlistments, men under 21 years of age, men unfit for the tropics, and some married men. Naturally everyone has the ambition to belong to the chosen 700.
The force now at Burnham Camp is the 1st Battalion of the New Zealand Regiment. It is the first New Zealand force to be sent overseas entirely by air, by planes of the R.N.Z.A.F. The advance party has gone in August and September, the main body will go in November and perhaps in early December. The planes will, on their return flights, bring home men of the 2nd Battalion who are serving in Malaya at present.
The battalion commander, Lt. Col. L. A. Pearce, M.B.E., is a specialist in training, having been in charge of the Army Schools at Waiouru.
In Malaya, the New Zealanders will move into a new camp at Fort Terendak, which is in the southern part of the country, well away from the some time ago. They will be part of the 28th area where battles against the terrorists took place Commonwealth Brigade Group, a garrison force composed of three battalions (one British, one Australian and one New Zealand) as well as other Commonwealth units.
Fort Terendak will be a small township, with no less than 10,000 inhabitants. In this self-contained community, the New Zealanders will have 140 houses for married quarters, so that a large number of soldiers' wives can be accommodated there. The battalion will be stationed there for two years, with plenty of time and facilities for entertainment. Much rugby, soccer and tennis will be played, including sizeable inter-unit sports tournaments with other parts of the brigade and with other regiments in Malaya.
MAORI LIFE IN THE BATTALION
One remarkable feature of the battalion is the way in which Maoris and Europeans have been welded together into an integrated whole. There are 300 Maoris, including four officers and quite a number of NCO's. This is about the same proportion as in previous Malayan contingents. The Maoris form no unit of their own but are spread throughout the battalion. In the recreational programme, the Maori element is important. The two main clubs in the battalion are the sports club and the Maori club.
The sports activities this winter have been largely limited to rugby, with a few soccer and hockey enthusiasts practising. Soccer however will come into its own in Malaya, where it is widely played. There is a strong indoor basketball club and a good following of golf.
Rugby coach is Father P. M. M. Carmody, the Roman Catholic chaplain of the unit, the captain of the first fifteen being Corporal Rangitataura (Sam) Christie, from Opotiki, who served in Korea as well as Malaya with the first contingent.
Practice is on Wednesday afternoons and in the evenings but enthusiasm for rugby is limited just at present as most of the men concentrate all their efforts on military training.
The second major club, almost equally important in the battalion, is the Maori club. It is actively suported by Ltd.-Col. Pearce as Patron and by the company commanders as vice-presidents. The other club officials are all Maoris, led by the president. Captain J. P. (Joe) Brosnahan, from Mohaka. The chairman is Staff Sergeant Mat Edwards; among the committee members are Cpl. Christie (for Maori sports), Sgt. Rangiuia (for social activities), Cpl. Brown (for catering), and some others.
Coach of the Maori club is Padre Whakahuihui Vercoe, who is chaplain of the battalion for all denominations except R.C.
Activities of the Maori club are confined to practices every Monday night. As with the sports club, there is a membership fee of 10/- per year which at the time of my visit had been paid by 72 members although the active membership is actually a good deal greater. The club contains Europeans but Maoris form the majority. Activities include Maori hymns, choral pieces, action songs, hakas and waiatas. The men are very conscious of the high standard set for them by the concert party of the 2nd battalion now in Malaya. They realise they will be called upon to do much entertaining, and that they have to develop a pretty good programme. However, they consider themselves at least equal to and ‘probably better’ than the previous party.
The competition is all the fiercer because the tribal composition of this new group is different from the previous one. The Maoris of the 2nd battalion are mostly from the West Coast and the Bay of Plenty, whereas the 1st battalion's main tribes are Ngapuhi and Ngati Porou.
Battalion wives have an organization of their own. Like the men, some are learning Malay; other activities of their organization are: learning about life in Malaya, a drama group, a ‘keep fit’ group, and also a Maori club, which not only practises action songs and similar, but also makes poi balls, and taniko headbands and bodices for the men's entertainment group. Tutor in these activities is Mrs Vercoe, the chaplain's wife; among the active members are Mrs Pearce, the Colonel's wife, and her daughter.
Padre Whakahuihui Vercoe, the chaplain, is responsible for the spiritual welfare of both Maori and European. He attends not only to his Anglican flock, but also Presbyterians. Methodists, Ratana's and other religions—although some of the other churches hold occasional services in the camp. He told me he had been agreeably surprised at the deep interest many of the men took in religion. His office, comfortable with a well-stocked library, is next to the chapel, which is always open for prayer. His wife and family will go with him to Malaya.
Two of the Maori officers in the battalion are brothers—Capt. J. P. and 2nd Lt. T. D. Brosnahan. Both were teachers, and had finished part of a university degree, when they joined the army. The older brother has been in the army for ten years now, and intends to continue in this career; his younger brother Tom thinks of going back to teaching when his time in Malaya is up.
Last to join the small group of Maori officers is 2nd Ltd. N. A. Kotua, a Nelson man who has just graduated from Portsea Officers' Cadet School
I was able to meet several of the men during my short visit. Random though they are, the few conversations I had will give some picture of the men who make up the battalion, the reasons why they joined, and what they hope to do in the future. Sgt. Matu Rangiuia, of Tolaga Bay, is a permanent soldier with six years' service. He is an enthusiastic champion of Maori dancing, belonged to the original action song group at Linton Camp with Capt. Armstrong and Reupena Ngata. These other two have since published a book of action songs; Sgt. Rangiuia was transferred before this was written. To him the greatest satisfaction in army life consists of the seeing of strange peoples and overseas travel.
The same is true for Pte. Clark Edwards of Judea Pa, Tauranga. For seven years a driver at the Public Service Garage, Wellington, he took leave recently to take the trip to Malaya. After three years in the Army, he intends to go back to his previous job. His grandmother, Katerina Piahina, was a sister of Winiata, Maharaia Winiata's father. His hobbies are woodwork and machinery.
Pte. Hirahau Manihira comes from a village near Wanganui. After four years at the Technical College, Wanganui, he worked at Tokoroa and Taihape, became a member of the Morehu Club (Ratana Ch.) at Taihape. He is looking forward to further experience with the concert party—intends to remain in the permanent force.
Pte. Edward Tataurangi, an enthusiastic rugby player and haka performer, joined the army in 1957, after working with the Railways. His home is Ratana Pa. He is looking forward to the trip to Malaya which will be his second, intends to return to the Railways.
Pte. Hira, closely related to King Koroki and Ngapaka Kukutai, works in the Officers' Mess. Being very efficient at his job, he is among the advance party leaving in September so he can set up the officers' mess at Fort Terendak. During his week's final leave he will go home to Tuakau, where he will be given an ancient koroway, an heirloom of King Koroki's family, to use with the concert party in Malaya. This he looks forward to as a great event. He intends to become a regular soldier.
Clearly, the Malaya force holds special attractions to the Maori. It contains four times as many Maoris as one would expect from the size of the Maori population. Many come for adventure, but many also because of the regularity, the security and the close fellowship of army life. They are pleased to serve a patriotic cause. They are happy with the excellent race relations in the battalion.
What are the prospects for Maori boys in the army? I was told every sector, from the officers' corps downwards, is wide open to them, but like everywhere else, the higher positions demnad higher education. Officers have to be of U.E. standard, or S.C. with good mathematics. The Regular Force Cadet School trains boys from 15 to 18, with good technical abilities, in many of the apprenticed trades.
I RANGONA ATU NGA PU
I rangona atu nga pu
Kei Te Taniwha
Kei a Huri-whenua
I tangi ki taku hawenga i raro-e—
Keua e ana pu—
E! Ka whano Mangu [ unclear: ] o—
Kei oku tapa, Papatoa—
He pu notinoti nga tapa!
He kuru tumata tai haruru—
E! Ka ngenengene!
He mata aha, he koi pu,
Ka tu ki runga ha,
E! Ka roa ko te tapa
Ka moho ki te whenua,
E! Ka ngenengene!
THE COMING OF THE MUSKET
Guns came down
To Te Taniwha
Calling out to the weak ones
Driven here by the guns—
Ha! Come to me, black death,
Come to my thighs, conquering earth—
They shiver at his breath
He beats and burns and roars
Ha! He is done.
What a weapon of love
A sharp bullet from above—
Ha! I am caught in his cold fire
There is no end to his desire—
Ha! He is done!
This was sung by some women of the Te Namu pa which had successfully withstood a siege from a taua (war-party) of Te Ati-Awa. The war-party was armed with two muskets. They made a great noise but killed nobody.
The first muskets had a proper name, a reputation and a history like the old Maori weapons of honour.
Although the old-time Maori knew of the Teka (dart) and had once known the throwing-spear, he seems to have refrained from their use, except on sporting or ceremonial occasions (for controversy on the subject, see “Transactions of the N.Z. Institute” Vol. 1, p. 15, Vol. 10, p. 97 and Vol. II, p. 106). But the musket proved too much for him.
Within ten years, these people of the Taranaki tribe who had sung so lightly of the first muskets were to be killed or driven away by the guns from the North.
With the musket, tribal warfare became a source of unendurable tension. When Christianity gave the Maori the chance of an honourable and enduring peace, tribal warfare disappeared—almost overnight.
We met in the Maori Affairs Committee Room of the New Zealand House of Parliament on Friday, June 9th, 1961. Under the Chairmanship of Major Vercoe and the able leadership of Mr Norman Perry, it was a Conference of the Provisional Council of Tribal Executives, and among other matters we met to consider the draft legislation to amend the Maori Social and Advancement Act 1945.
We were all very mindful of our surroundings. On the wall was the Treaty of Waitangi and the portraits of those great stalwarts of the race, Sir James Carroll, Sir Maui Pomare, Sir Peter Buck and Sir Apirana Ngata.
At once, our inspiration for such a gathering, became the words in the Epistle of the Hebrews, Chapter XIII, verses 1 and 2: “Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the Author and finisher of our faith.” These could not have been a more inspirational message to all of us who were privileged to be there on behalf of the Maori people.
On the next day, we met the Hon. Mr Hanan, the Minister, and Mr Hunn the Secretary. The Minister spoke on the proposed legislation which would bring about the formation of a Dominion Council of Maori Tribal Committees. This was the dawn of a new era in the life of our people in this country.
But more challenging still was the Minister's introduction of a Maori Education Foundation. It was simply staggering when the Minister mentioned as the basis of the Education Foundation no less a sum than £125,000.
The establishment of the Maori Education Foundation constitutes the greatest challenge to us in our day and generation. In the Minister's own words he said something to the effect, that if this matter did not receive the support of the people which it merits, it could be just another grand failure! The challenge to each individual Maori is to make it a great success! The appeal goes out to the individual to become a foundation member by making a contribution of £20. We are not immediately concerned with Maori Trust Boards, Corporations, and other bodies throughout Maoriland. They will give their tithes in good time. But we will match the challenge as individuals. “He toa ano te toa takitahi i haunga te toa takitini.” Already our Wellington people are queuing up in the long line of foundation members which will extend throughout the length and breadth of our country.
It was not inappropriate, that before the pronouncement of the benediction, our meeting should have finished up on a stirring note! Old Te Rauparaha, in the heat of battle, not unlike Robert the Bruce, sought refuge, not in a cave, but in a kumara pit. It was a matter of life or death and one had to lie low. But presently he sensed the surge of battle going the right way, and so gradually he emerged out of his hiding place into the full light of day. And so:
Ka mate! Ka mate! Ka ora! Ka ora!
Ka mate! Ka mate! Ka ora! Ka ora!
Tenei te tangata puhuruhuru, nana i tiki mai whakawhiti te ra!
Ku pane! Kau pane!
Ku pane! Kau pane!
Whiti te Ra!!!
At the New Zealand Maori Golf Championships held at Whakatane, the New Zealand representative, W. J. Godfrey, won the men's title. He beat the defending champion, T. Ormsby (Waikato) 2-up in the final. The women's title was won by Mrs T. Lawrence (Springfield), who beat Mrs R. Sage (Waikato) 5 and 4 in the final.
THE NEW WORLD
This is the first published story of a young Maori woman who married an American student and now lives in the United States. It presents a vivid and moving picture of the community where she was brought up—its daily life, as seen with the eyes of a child, and its ideals as she remembers them.
“It's your turn to catch the service car today,” Hinerangi's mother said to her. “You'd better leave as soon as you've finished your kai. I don't want these letters to miss the mail. The kids will bring your lunch to school.”
Hinerangi gulped her milk hurriedly and swallowed what was left of her porridge. Taking the remains of her bread which had been toasted to a golden brown with the aid of a fork held above the red hot embers in the kitchen stove, and gathering her mother's letters together, she made for the door.
“Goodbye, Mum”, she called, “I'll see you tonight. Don't let Pare forget my lunch, will you?” This was her parting salutation as she disappeared down the hill.
It was fun, leaving for school early like this. The local service car, which went into town every day in the summer and three times a week during the winter months, went right by the school. The kindly driver obliged the local people by posting their letters in town which was 35 miles away. For a small freight charge he also delivered and collected orders for them from the town meat markets and grocery stores.
Hinerangi tucked her Mother's letters down the front of her gym frock and tightened the belt about her waist so that the letters would not fall out. She wiped the remains of her breakfast from her face and replaced her clean, white handkerchief in the elastie leg band of her black bloomers.
Glancing over her shoulder, she noted that Old Man Sun was just beginning to pull himself over the horizon. He always made a spectacular entrance into day. First, with a vivid burst of colour all across the heavens which made Hinerangi think of the blaze of trumpets upon the arrival of a king, only Mr Sun's heraldry of pomp and splendour was muted. As his golden crown rose majestically above the horizon, a carpet of a million sparkling diamonds rolled out across the sea before him and met at Hinerangi's feet. Their dazzling beauty almost blinded her as she ran to the water's edge to meet them and scoop them up in her hands. Her bare feet danced along the cool, hard surface of the beach. Little waves swished gently in to shore to caress her toes and she laughed for pure joy as she playfully jumped to avoid them.
It was early morning and Hinerangi knew she would have plenty of time to get to school, to get the bus and to get a whole puku full of
all the beauty about her. Old Man Sun was her only rival for time this morning and she was well able to judge the lateness or earliness of the hour from the shortening shadows that the trees and hills flung before her pathway, as the sun climbed higher into the sky.
“I love you, Mr Sun,” she cried, “But I'm glad Maui tied you up that once or I never would have fun racing with you.”
Now her way would go up a grassy slope toward Pihoe, which was an old Maori fortification. During the weekends when Hinerangi and her brothers and sisters went exploring, they would often visit Pihoe Pa and would play hide and seek in its old trenches. It was here that Hinerangi sometimes dreamed she was a beautiful Maori princess being captured by a great, big, handsome Maori chief who would carry her off to his own pa. She would recognize him immediately by the taiaha wound he bore on his left shoulder, the result of close combat with a warring enemy who naturally fell victim to the Maori chief's skill and prowess. But there was no time for day dreaming this morning, as the road ahead of her was no paved highway. There was no highway to her home—only a stretch of beach and a horse track which snaked its way uphill and down dale, through fern and scrub and bracken and native bush, to the little Maori school tucked in a clearing about four miles away.
As Hinerangi climbed up the narrow pathway she lifted her gym frock high above her head. She was now blazing her way through a a forest of paspalum grass which grew almost taller than herself. Their tops, sticky with honey, seemed to deliberately lean over and wipe themselves against her bare legs. It was then she remembered she had forgotten to put on her “overalls”, an outsize dress her oldest sister had outworn and outgrown and which her Mother insisted she wear to protect her school clothes from dirt, dust and the honey-laden paspalum grass. Her other sister wore similar protections which they always removed before they rounded the last bend in the track which over-looked the school. Here they hid their “overalls” in the bracken, but put them on once more when they wended their way homewards.
Now Hinerangi was on top of Pihoe. She felt hot all through her body, but she did not stop. Cresting the brow of the hill was easy, as the track continued almost straight for a short distance. Around her was the world—all fresh and washed the night before and now hanging out to dry. She could even make out the marks of Mother Nature's clothes pegs in the blue and white flecked canopy that was stretched out to dry above her. Far below her was the sea. It looked brown and sudsy as if it still contained Mother Nature's washing water. “She's probably forgotten to empty it out after soaking the landscape in it all night,” she surmised. “Oh, well, God will pull the plug out and make the sea clear and sparkly again.”
The track now dipped into the bush where it was still dark and cool but alive with nature's orchestra. Every tatarakihi in the bush seemed to be bent on out tatarakihi-ing the others, while above their happy din could be heard the melliflous notes of the tui. “That's the way dripping nectar would sound if it could sing,” Hinerangi thought, “But because it isn't able to, God gave its notes to the Tui. Ah! Now I know why the tui always sings after she has dipped her beak into the wild flowers.”
Her feet were dancing now over the “accordeon”, a series of some ninety-nine pot holes gauged out by the passage of many years and many horses. On up over the “train” she ran. This was a narrow bank that divided the double tracks worn down by the horses. Next came the “horses” rub”, a deep ditch as high as a horse's back, worn out on either side by the procession of horses through the years scraping their bellies against the smooth sides of the ditch to the track above.
The bush smelled of fresh morning and sweet tawhara. This afternoon on her way home from school she would persuade her brothers and sisters to stop and sample with her their delicious flavour, but now she could not, for she noticed the shadows of the trees were shortening and she had not yet reached the “staircase”. This was where the track ran straight down a high hill at an almost perpendicular angle. In winter the children braced their legs and ski-ied down it as it was well greased with wet sticky mud. She was at the fence now with but a short way to go—down another hill, across the creek, up the other side of the hill, through the second lence, around the bend and there was the school. She was still early, for the playground was empty of children. There was no need to hurry now. Mr Sun was way, way behind and probably was still vainly primping and preening himself in the large mirror of the sea. Hinerangi smiled happily. She had won the race again.
School was fun for Hinerangi, She loved almost everything about it—except arithmetic. When she arrived at school as early as this there was time to select a library book and be lost in another world. Perhaps the Headmaster would not mind if she took her book down to the road and read it there as she waited for the red and white service car to come along. She liked her Headmaster. He was a Pakeha, but in the summertime when he wore only shorts, he got as brown as a—No! Not a Maori. “Pakehas don't seem to brown that way,’ she mused. “I wonder if it's because they are all pakeha inside?” In spite of his pakehaness the children all liked the kura mahita, for he was young and handsome and he could sing. He could also break up any fights that broke out among the big boys and girls on the sports field or during election year. He was a good man with a lot of kindness and a heap of understanding.
In the classroom he opened up a whole new world to the children. Although the small village was practically cut off from the outside world by
its isolation, the Headmaster brought the world itself to their feet. He made lessons in history and geography, reading and composition come alive, for Hinerangi at least, though not for her older sister who was always too busy making eyes at all the big boys in the classroom. On the way home from school Pare would boast about the number of times she had been kissed. “O-O-O! You know Pine caught me behind the sheltershed at playtime today, and d'you know, he kissed me—five times,” she said, holding up all the fingers on one hand and preparing to hold up the other to indicate that England and Penehana had helped to double the number. Turning to Hinerangi she asked, “How many times have they kissed you?”
“Huh! I'd like to see them try!”
“If they did, what would you do”?
“I'd … I'd … Scratch their eyes out.”
Secretly Hinerangi wondered what it would be like to be kissed. Pare seemed to enjoy it immensely, and so did her older brother who joined in the chase of other brothers' sisters when the teachers were all at lunch.
The following afternoon when she went to get her coat and bag from the cloak room she found out. So did Hemi who wore the evidence for several days. When the Headmaster asked the scratch marks on his face, he looked at Hinerangi and spat out, “The cat scratched me.” Hinerangi blushed to the roots of her hair and tried to disappear through the lid of her desk as the entire class focussed its attention upon her in a burst of laughter. Humiliated beyond endurance, Hinerangi felt that feline urge rise within her again. How could she ever have held a secret admiration for Hemi for so long was now quite beyond her. She hated him! She hated him! At that moment she caught the knowing twinkle from her Headmaster's eyes as he remarked to Hemi, “Well, you must have deserved it.”
Growing up close to Nature's heart was pure joy for Hinerangi. The village in which she lived was small in size but beyond measurement in beauty. With the exception of the teacher, the storekeeper and his family and a handful of other pakehas, the sparse population was entirely Maori.
Hinerangi's home was perched high on a hill overlooking the beautiful sea and surrounded by the beautiful native bush. Although her family were virtually isolated from the surrounding neighbourhood, they were never alone. Nor lonesome. How could they be with three brothers and six sisters to play and scrap with and Nature's panoramic wonderland at their feet?
During the winter months when it was impossible to stay out of doors for any length of time, the little three-roomed shack which was home to them all, bulged at the seams with noise and laughter, intermingled, at times, with tears. Davs like these called for special treats like popcorn and toffee to help restore peace and quiet. Hinerangi's mother would select a few cohs of brightly coloured popcorn from the bunches that had hung to dry all winter in the wide tin chimney. The children would eagerly shell the corn until their fingers were red, while their mother heated the butter in a pot over the blazing hot wood stove. The first “pop”, followed by another, then another brought cheers from the children. When a whole hailstorm of “pop-pops” rained against the lid lifting it right off the pot, the children cheered more wildly than ever, for it was as if their wonderful mother had performed another miracle. With a saucer full of popcorn and a promise of more to come with “toffee, too, if you're good” the children were quiet. Some played “Snakes and Ladders”, or cut out pictures to paste into scrap books, but Hinerangi took off for the bedroom. With books on the floor, popcorn and elbows next to it, her chin cupped in her hands, her hind quarters in the air and her mind miles away, she was lost to the world.
Hinerangi's father worked with the P.W.D. He was a big, powerful man with a big, powerful build and a big, powerful laugh that sometimes “rocked the ship”, which meant he shook the house to its very foundations with his great big laugh—and with his sometimes great big growl, too, if the occasion warranted it. There was nothing he couldn't do, Hinerangi was sure, just as she was sure there wasn't a living soul in the world who could tell stories as well as her father. During the weekends when he was home from work, he would gather the children around him and tell them such fascinating stories that Hinerangi would lie awake hours afterwards thinking about them.
Friends, many of them, found their way to their door. Her mother would always welcome them with a smile, then she would hurry to stoke the fire up and put the kettle on to boil for the never-ending and always welcome cup of tea. The children took the arrival of company as their cue to vacate the house, for they had been taught that “Little children should be seen and not heard.” Hinerangi, however, took it as her cue to slip quickly and quietly back inside when the grown-ups were too engrossed in conversation to notice her. Sometimes she would wiggle her way dexterously between legs and crawl beneath the table where she would be hidden from view by the long table cloth. Then she would listen while the grown-ups talked.
One day someone told a story about a boy called Jimmy whose teacher had sent him home from school because he didn't smell clean. A very angry mother turned up at school with little Jimmy in tow. “‘Y for you sen my Shimmy home from school?” she roared. “I no sen my Shimmy here for you to schmell; I sen my Shimmy here for you to cheach. My Shimmy he no punch o' wiolet!”
This story was greeted with momentary silence, while Hinerangi curled up small and hardly breathed at all lest they should discover her hiding place—almost on top of their feet. At last
someone broke the silence.
“Yeah, these bloomin’ pakehas! Always say the Maori stinks. If they don't say it, they think it, anyway.”
Her father spoke, “That may be so,” he said, “But in that there yarn both the Maori and the pakehas have a point. The Maori, he sends his kid to school to get an education, but a little soap and self-education never hurt anyone, either.”
“That's right, e hoa”, piped up Hare. “The District Nurse, she teaches our kids good health habits. It's up to the parents to encourage the kids to practise these habits at home.”
Another voice chimed in, “Yeah, the kids can teach the parents and the parents can help the kids. Then our little Shimmies won't be sent home from school.”
“Well, I'm all for educating my family”, her father spoke again. “The wife and I, we try our best with our brood. Here at home we try to teach them right from wrong and try to help them grow up to be good citizens. We see that they get their homework studied. And get their bath. And get to school clean and on time, but that's not all to educating them. There's a part of them inside that needs direction too. When I take them up in the bush to get the firewood, I like to show them the birds. We see how the birds make their nests, how they feed and care for their young, and later how they teach them to fly, so my kids get a first-hand lesson in family co-operation and fledgling independence. Then the wife there, she plants flowers and—but you tell them about that, Ani.”
In a soft, sweet flow, Hinerangi's mother continued where her father had left off. “Yes, I plant all kinds of flowers, but for the children I plant gladioli and name them after each member of the family. As the flowers grow, we watch their progress. When the stalks bend over too far we know they need extra support, so we stake them up to prevent their backs from growing crooked. I try to point out to the children how like the
flowers in the garden they are. Daddy and I are their support for a little while. Like the stakes against the gladioli, we help them to grow straight. If they've learned right at home, they'll grow right when they leave no matter how often the winds of temptation try to make them bend.”
“If they've got the backbone, they'll make it all right—just like their Mum's plants,” her father wound up.
This discourse seemed to please Arihia no end so she decided to give the Maori her own special pat on the back. “I reckon we Maoris got what it takes,” she announced with a self-satisfied air, “Even if the pakeha are always slinging off at us. They've only got to look at their history books to see what our tipuna have done.”
“And then they've only got to look at their papers to see what we've done,’ spoke Koro, the oldest of the group. Koro in his day had had the privilege of going to college, and this fact alone made him a respected leader in the village. “Anything a Maori does good or bad, becomes a reflection upon the whole Maori race,” he continued. “The time is past when we keep peeping out from behind our tipunas' piupiu and saying, ‘Look what our ancestors did. Look what a proud race we are’ without trying to contribute something worthwhile ourselves to the heritage left us by our tipuna. Basking in their reflected glory is no good. No good at all. It's like trying to win a boat race when our waka is high and dry. If we want to ride on the crest of all that our ancestors have achieved, we must see that our own canoes are fit for the sailing and that we're headed in the right direction,” Koro continued. “We all know how our tipuna crossed the uncharted ocean in open canoes. Today we've got our own oceans to cross. They're uncharted, too, but we've got just as many stars to guide us as our forefathers had in their day and our Kupes have already blazed the way for us, as did the very first Kupe so long ago. Like our fathers before us, it is now time for us to launch our canoes in full faith, as did they, knowing full well that we'll get there.” After a short pause he said, “Education is one of the stars which will help point the way across our ocean.”
“Hum-m,” sniffed Arihia. “Education! What's the good of all this education business? Our kids go away to college, learn the pakeha ways; then they come back and they don't like it here any more. It's not good enough for them. If that's what education does for them, they're better off without it.”
“I don't see it that way at all,” Koro replied. “I'm an old bloke now, but this is the way I look at it. If my kids don't yearn for something greater and higher and nobler as a result of all I've tried to pound into them, then I've failed them and failed myself. All these years now I have been trying to teach them to pick up their own two feet and walk. Run, if need be. I don't want them to lean on my shoulder and say, “What's good enough for the old man is good enough for me.” Their opportunities are greater than ever today, and if I had my life to live over again in this day and age, I'd go all out for a higher and better education. My kids know I've given them the best that I can afford. I know they appreciate it, but their biggest thanks to me will come only when they have reached the highest peak of their own ability and will come to me and say, “I owe this to you, Dad. You taught me to aim.” That's all the thanks I need. I'm too old now to cross their ocean, but I have the satisfaction of knowing that I helped shape the canoes my sons will paddle in order to reach their ultimate goals, so I'll get there, too—through them. E hoa, don't criticize your kids when they come home from college ‘different’. Just be glad that they are ready now to set sail across their own Moana-nui-a-kiwa. It will be a mighty long sail, too, so send them out with your blessings, because they will still be looking back over their shoulders for your guidance and nod of approval and your ‘Kia kaha!”’.
From her place under the table, Hinerangi drank in every word that had fallen from Koro's wise old lips. Her under-the-table companions seemed to have listened with fervour, too, for all legs were still. Now the grown-ups had relaxed. Hinerangi could tell because the many toes under the table began to stretch and wiggle as if they were enjoying their own private conversation through the sign language system.
These were Hare's feet, because of the big bunion on the left side. It had always fascinated Hinerangi, for she had seen it many times sticking out through the worn out pair of “toe peeper” shoes Hare sometimes wore. Hinerangi experienced an almost uncontrollable urge to bend down and bite that big, brown, inviting kiritono, but she restrained herself and chuckled deep down inside.
And these legs belonged to Katene, they were big, like strainer posts and very hairy. She felt a strong desire to tweek at their long, black hair, but again she just chuckled deep inside.
The next pair belonged to his wife Arihia. It was she who had ridiculed education for their children. After today perhaps she would think twice about keeping Kingi home to weed the kumara and plant the corn. Kingi had too many brains that shouldn't be left to go to seed like the kumara in the tapapa pit.
These slim ankles were her mother's. They were the prettiest legs of all, under the table or anywhere else. She wanted to reach out and stroke them, but she daren't give away her hiding place like that.
Across from her Mother's well-shaped legs were the bony ones of Koro. How skinny they looked, with hardly any meat on them at all. They'd have made a sorry meal in the olden days for some hungry warrior, she decided. She pretended to measure the girth with her hands, and then compared their size to her father's big, kauri-like
limbs. Her father's toes, that splayed out like open umbrellas, wiggled some more as if inviting her to play “Piggly Wiggly” with them.
They were all good feet, there, feet that had worked hard carrying their owners up and down many a row of kumara and corn and many times down to the pipi and kutai beds to gather kai for the little ones at home. The feet began to shuffle now, giving off farewell salutes and toe-y odours as their owners gathered them to leave.
That night as Hinerangi lay in her narrow bed, she pondered all she had heard from her vantage point beneath the kitchen table. Outside, the rain beat heavily on the tin roof of the little shack, but Hinerangi was warm and comfortable inside. She smiled happily as she listened to the staccato notes of the raindrops. They sounded like popcorn pelting against the lid of a great big pot. “God must be cooking a popcorn kai for the angels tonight,” she smiled.
She felt intimately close to God for He was the very core of the beauty which surrounded her, and was not He, after all, her Heavenly Father? And did not he always cradle their frail little house in the hollow of His arms every time an angry storm shook the house to its very foundation? With God as their Father and Protector, all would be well. Always. All Ways. Hinerangi was confident of this and the knowledge made her glad.
Just then the soft cadences of her mother's voice reached her ears through the curtained-off bedroom door. “That was a good talk we had with those people today,” her mother said.
“Yes,” her father replied in his deep, rich voice.
After a short pause, her mother's voice rose again. “I wish I had the money to put all the kids through college.”
With a deep sigh, her father replied, “Yeah, so do I.” When with a lift to his voice he continued, “I've been making inquiries ‘bout these here free scholarships the Gov'ment's offerin' to bright Maori kids. They sound pretty good, too. The Gov'ment pays the tuition and the parents have to pay for the school uniforms and that stuff.
We should be able to manage the clothing part if any of our kids show any ability to win a scholarship. I'm figurin' on buyin' another heifer. It'll be big enough t' sell by the time any of our kids are ready for that scholarship.”
“What wonderful opportunities our kids have today.” Hinerangi's mother added. “What with all these scholarships, surely this higher education will help our Maori people to adjust more easily to the pakeha world.”
“This isn't really the pakeha world.” Hinerangi's Father added. “This is the New World—for Maori and Pakeha alike. The Old World's had its day. Our kids are facing the new world now. And better education ought' help both the Maori and the Pakeha to fit into it.”
“Te Ao Hou!” her mother breathed almost with reverence. “The New World, that's what it is. The Brave World! My heart goes out to the younger generation of both Maori and Pakeha. They've got to travel side by side to make it a better world. They must journey through life as brothers, not only of one another, but brothers of the whole world.”
“Brothers of the Pakeha! Brothers in the New World! Ah! That's what I'm going to be: A Brother to everyone, even though I'm just a girl,” breathed Hinerangi. “Te Ao Hou! God bless you.”
Then she curled up like a little kitten and fell fast asleep.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
NEWS IN BRIEF ….
The first girl from Hukarere Maori Girls' College, Napier, to be awarded an American Field Service Scholarship and the only one from Napier this year is 16-year-old Marama Paewai.
The final confirmation of the award, with details of where she will be staying and when she will leave for U.S.A., came recently after a wait of nearly a month since she first received notification of her success.
Marama, a half-sister to a former outstanding Rugby player, Dr M. N. Paewai, will leave Auckland on August 24 by plane to spend a year in the United States. In San Francisco she will be met by officials of the Field Scholarship Organisation and will be taken to her home for the year which will be in Des Moines, Iowa.
There she will attend Roosevelt High School as a pupil in what is equivalent to Form 6A in New Zealand. During the year she will be expected to address various organisations on aspects of New Zealand life.
Marama Paewai's home is in Dannevirke. She has been a pupil of Hukarere College for some years now. She was dux of the school last year, is captain of the school basketball team, and is head prefect.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
Some three thousand people attended the Hui Topu of the Waipu Diocese at Manutuke, Gisborne, last May.
The Hikurangi party from the Ruatoria district won all the cultural and choral competitions excepting the Senior Cultural section, which was won by Turanganui of Gisborne.
Results of the competitions were: Junior choirs: Hikurangi 1, Waiapu 2. Senior choirs: Hikurangi 1. Whangara 2, Te Ngae 3. Junior Cultural: Hikurangi 1, Waiapu 2, Te Reinga 3. Senior Cultural: Turanganui 1, Hikurangi and Waiapu equal 2, Waipatu 3.
TE B.A., TE M.A. TE TAKUTA RANEI?
Ko Hoani Te Ngaere ahau. I whanau mai au i Murupara. Ko taku kainga whakatipu tena. E tipu ana te manuka i aua wa. E haere ana tena kai te poaka kapene-kuki. He kainga tino Maori a Murupara i aua wa, he kainga pai. Inaianei hoki he taone kei reira. He papara-kauta kei reira, he toa, he tiriti, he hiko, me era atu tohu o te taone hou.
Ko Murupara o mua taku e mohio ana. Ko Ngati Manawa te iwi, ko Tawhioau te maunga, ko Rangitaiki te awa, ko Rangitahi te kura, ko Hoani Te Ngaere te tangata. He kura Maori a Rangitahi i aua wa, te tino kura o Niu Tireni katoa. Koina toku whakaaro.
I taua kura ka mohio au ki etahi o nga mahi rangatira a o taua tipuna; ara, ki te mahi whakairo, mahi tukutuku, mahi kowhaiwhai, ki te haka me era mahi a ringa. I reira hoki ka mohio au ki te korero Pakeha, ki te tuhituhi, ki te korero pukapuka, ki te whika, me etahi atu o nga mahi hoha o tenei mea o te kura. Na taku tau ki te mahi, na te marama o taku hinengaro ka homai he karahipi maku. Ka tukuna ahau ki Te Aute.
Na, he kareti rongonui a Te Aute, he toa mo te whutupooro i nga wa o mua. I aua wa hoki e kiia ana mehemea i akona koe i Te Aute, he tangata whai matauranga koe. I enei ra kaore e penei ana te korero a te tangata. Kaore au i te mohio he aha i rereke ai. Ki toku nei whakaaro he pai tonu to matau ropu i puta mai i Te Aute. Engari kaore pea he Apirana Ngata, he Te Rangihoroa ranei i waenganui i a matau. He ika nunui aua tangata, he hapuka! Ko matau he kahawai, he inanga ranei. Engari, ki taku mohio, mehemea he inanga matau, he inanga korikori, he inanga pakari e kore e kainga noa e te tuna.
Ae, ko Hoani ahau. I au e tuhituhi nei kua mutu taku haere ki te kura. Kei te ngaherehere ahau e mahi ana inaianei, kei te mira a Minginui. Na, ko te take i tuhi ai au, na te mea he korero taku. Ko taku hiahia kia mohio mai koutou he aha i tau ai tenei manu ki nga rakau o Minginui.
I au i Te Aute ka tae mai te whakaaro ki au, me haere ahau ki te whare wananga o Akarana kia riro mai ai te B.A., te M.A., te takuta ranei, i au; kia noho ai ahau hei ika nui mo te iwi Maori. Ka whakaaro au, na, ki te riro mai te
B.A. M.A. OR
I am John Te Ngaere. I appeared into the world at Murupara. That was the place where I was reared. The place was overgrown with manuka in those days. Murupara was a real Maori village then, a delightful place. In these days of course there is a town there. A hotel is there, streets, electricity and those other signs noticeable in a modern town.
It was the Murupara of old-fashioned times which I know well. Ngati Manawa was the tribe, Tawhioau was the mountain, Rangitaiki was the river, Rangitahi was the school, and John Te Ngaere was THE man. Rangitahi was a Maori school in those days, the best in all New Zealand. That was my opinion.
At that school I picked up the rudiments of the more chiefly activities of our ancestors; I refer to carving, lattice work. rafter patterns, haka and other forms of hand work. There also, I learnt to speak English, to write, to read, to calculate and do other bothersome subjects taught at schools. Because I worked diligently and because I had a keen mind a scholarship was given to me. I was then sent to Te Aute.
Now Te Aute is a college of great renown, a champion at football in former days. In those days it was said that if you were taught at Te Aute you were an EDUCATED person. People don't seem to say the same these days. I don't understand why things are different now. To my mind our group which qualified at Te Aute, was not bad at all. Of course there probably wasn't an Apirana Ngata or Peter Buck among us. Those men were big fish—gropers! We were only kahawai or perhaps whitebait. But, I should say, if we were whitebait, we were wriggling whitebait, we were hardy whitebait which would not be easy food for eels.
Yes, I am John. As I write now I have finished going to school. I'm in the forest now, at a timber
B.A., te M.A., te takuta ranei i au, ka tu au mo te paremata pera i a Ngata. Maku e hiki te ingoa pai o te Maori, maku e korero nga take, maku e tuhituhi nga korero hohonu a te iwi, pera ano i a Ngata. Tera pea, na te pai o aku mahi ka whakahonoretia ahau e te Kuini ki te Taa, ka whakaturia au hei Pirimia mo Aotearoa. Ka takahi au i nga huarahi o te ao. Ka haere au ki Ingarangi, ki Amerika, ki Ihipa ki te korero ki a Naha, ki Inia ki te korero ki a Neru, ki Haina ki te kohete i a Mao, ki Ruhia ki te tohutohu i a Kurutewhe pehea te whakahaere whenua. Ae, maku e hapai te iwi, maku e whakamama nga raruraru. Maku, ka riro mai he whare hou mo nga Maori katoa o Aotearoa, he motoka, he terewihione, he pouaka hukapapa. Enei mea katoa
mill in Minginui. I wrote because I have a little story to tell. I am anxious that you should know how it came about that this bird alighted upon the trees at Minginui.
Now, when I was at Te Aute the thought came to me that I should go to the university of Auckland, so I could get a B.A., M.A., or Doctorate and so become a big fish of the Maori people. I thought that when I had got B.A., M.A., or Doctor I would stand for parliament just like Ngata did. I would elevate the fine name of the Maori, I would debate on important matters, I would commit to writing the esoteric knowledge of the people just like Ngata did. Perhaps because of my good work the Queen would honour me with Sir and I should be made Prime Minister of New
ka taea e au. Ka whakaaro au, ae, e tika ana kia riro mai i a tatau enei taputapu o te ao hou, hei utu mo te whenua i murua e te ao hou. Na, kaore hoki e tika ana kia noho te nuinga o tatau ki nga mahi paruparu, ki nga mahi uaua. Me whakakore atu ena tikanga. Ka taea e au te whakatu he Maori hei rangatira mo nga mahi katoa o Aotearoa, ko nga mahi paruparu ma nga Pakeha. Ae, me hiki te iwi ki nga mahi pai, ki nga mahi nui noa atu te moni. Ae, ka taea e au. E kii ana hoki te tangata ma te matauranga ka taea nga mahi katoa, mana ka mama o tatau raru-raru. No reira me whai au i te B.A., i te M.A. te takuta ranei. Ka mahi au, a, ka hipa nga tau e wha. Ka riro mai nga tiwhikete nei, ka huakina mai te kuaha ki au.
Haere ana ahau ki te whare wananga o Akarana. Ka whakaaro ahau, e pai ana to haere Hoani. Poto noa te wa inaianei ka riro mai te B.A., te M.A., te takuta ranei. Kaore e roa inaianei ka tae ahau ki te whare paremata kia riro mai ai he whare hou mo nga Maori kato, he terewihione, he pouaka hukapapa. Ka whakahonoretia ahau e te Kuini. Ka ui mai te tangata ki au, “Tena koe, e Ta Hoani Te Ngaere!”
I taku taenga ki te whare wananga ka mohio ahau e iwa nga wahanga o te B.A. Me whai e toru ia tau, ia tau. E toru tau ka taea te B.A. E what pea ka taea te M.A. Na, ka whakaaro au, e what tau ke mo te mahi nei! Mehemea ka whaia e au e what nga wahanga ia tau, ia tau ka taea pea te B.A. me te M.A. i nga tau e toru. Ae, me penei. Ka riro koia nei hei kaupapa maku.
Na, ka rongo au i etahi e korerorero ana. Ka mea tetahi, “Me whai kia toru nga wahanga ia tau, ia tau. Ma te tangata tino marama te nuku atu.”
Ka mea ano tetahi, “Ei, kia rua mo te tau tuatahi. Kia waia koe ki nga tikanga o tenei kainga ka whai ai i te toru.”
Ka whakaaro au, ai, enei tahae! Kei te tino maharahara ratau. Kaore ratau e penei i au neil. Karawhiua kia wha, kia wawe te mutu o te mahi nei. Tena ko ta ratau, e rua i te tau, ai, he whakaroaroa noa iho tena mahi.
Taihoa ake, ka ki mai tetahi o nga tohunga o te whare wananga ki au, “E hia au e whai ana i tenei tau, Hoani?”
Ka ki atu ko au, “E wha.”
Ka mea ia, “E wha? Ka taea e koe te wha? E mohio ana koe ki te mahi nei?”
Ka whakahoki au, “Ka taea e au.”
Ka ki mai ano ia, “E whai ana koe i te aha?”
Ka mea atu au, “I te B.A., te M.A., te takuta ranei. Kaore he tikanga ki au ko tehea.”
Ka titiro mai taua tohunga ra ki au, ka mare paku nei, ka mea mai, “Me ki e whai ana koe i te B.A. Na, he aha whakaakoranga hei ako mau mo tenei tau?”
Ka whakahoki au, “Ko te reo Maori, ko te reo Ingarihi, te anthropology, me to philosophy.”
Ka maremare ano taua tohunga, “Ka taea e koe enei?”
Zealand. I would travel the byways of the world. I would go to England, to America, to Egypt to talk to Nasser, to India to confer with Nehru, to China to argue with Mao and to Russia to give Krushchev a pointer or two about how to run a nation. Yes, I would uplift the race and solve all its problems. By my efforts every Maori in New Zealand would get a new house, a motor car, television and a refrigerator. All these things I would manage.
I thought, yes, it is right that we should have these articles of the new world, because the new world was responsible for the disappearance of our land. Also, I didn't think it was proper that most of us should have the dirty jobs and the difficult jobs. I would correct this anomalous situation. I could establish Maoris as bosses for all the jobs in New Zealand and leave the dirty jobs for the Pakehas. Yes the whole race must be elevated to the better jobs and to jobs paying heaps of money. Yes, I could manage all this. Is it not said that through education all things are possible; by it, our anxieties are relieved. Therefore I must pursue a B.A., M.A., or Doctor.
I worked at Te Aute until at length I gained the certificates to open the door to the university of Auckland. If I did not gain these certificates I would not be able to pursue a B.A., M.A., or Doctorate. Well, I did get these certificates and so the door was opened to me.
Off I went to the university of Auckland. I thought, John you're progressing very nicely. It won't take so very long now to get a B.A., M.A., or Doctorate. Before long I will be in parliament and every Maori in New Zealand will get a new house, a television set and a refrigerator. The Queen will honour me. People will say to me, “Greetings, Sir John Te Ngaere!”
When I got to university I discovered that there were nine parts to a B.A. You had to take three of these each year. It would take three years to get a B.A. Perhaps four to get M.A. This made me think, good heavens, it takes four years to get this thing! Perhaps if I took four parts each year I would get both B.A. and M.A. in three years. Yes, this is what I would do. I let this be my plan.
Now I overheard some fellows yarning. One said, “Take three units each year. Only the really clever can manage more!” another one said, “Look, just take two for the first year. Wait until you become accustomed to the procedures of this place before pursuing three.”
I thought, yes, these fellows! They're not sure of themselves. Why don't they go at the job like me. Take four and get the job over with. Working things their way, two each year, is just plain procrastination.
Sometime later, one of the professors of the University said to me, “How many units are you going to take. John?”
I replied, “Four.”
He said, “Four? Can you manage four? Do you
Ka mea atu au, “E, ka taea! E mohio ana ahau ki te korero Maori. No reira e tika ana me ngawari te reo Maori ki au. E mohio ana hoki ahau ki te korero Pakeha. E tika ana me ngawari te reo Ingarihi.”
Ka ruru tona mahunga, ano kei te tino pouri ia, ka mea mai, “Ae, he nanakia tonu koe ki te korero Pakeha. Engari ki taku whakaaro kaore koe e tino marama ana ki te uaua o te mahi nei. Na, ka pehea te anthropology? He aha koe i pirangi ai ki te ako i tenei?”
Ka mea atu au, “Ki taku rongo he ngawari noa iho te anthropology. Koina ahau i pirangi ai ki tena.”
Ka ki mai ia, “E ki, he ngawari! Taihoa, Hoani, ka kite koe mehemea he ngawari, he uaua ranei!” Kua ahua riri taua tangata, ka mea mai, “Kua mutu ta taua korero. Haere koe ki waho!” Ka whakaaro ahau, he aha ra, i riri ai te tangata nei ki au? Ki kona au rapirapi ai i taku mahunga kore rawa ahau i mohio he aha te take mo tna rari.
Na, ka timata nga mahi whakaako. Ka tutaki au I etahi Maori kua tino tangata-whenua i te whare wananga nei. Ka ki mai tetahi ki au. Tena koe e hoa!” Ka whakahoki atu au, “A, kia ora ra!” Ko ia, “E pehea ana?” Ko ahau, “E, kei te pai!” Ko ia, “E pehea ana te mahi nei ki a koe?” Ka mea atu au, “E pai ana. E tama, ngawari noa iho!” Ka haere aua Maori nei.
Pai katoa ki au te noho i te whare wananga o Akarana. He kainga tino parekareka. He nui o nga mahi whakangahau—te pikitia, te kanikani, te takaro, te haere ki te hotera! Te nui hoki o nga kohine, Pakeha, Maori, Inia, kei reira katoa, kanapanapa mai ana nga whatu! E, me korero tenei kainga, kaore i pai ake!
Kia hipa nga marama ka timata taku maharahara. Nako te raruraru nui ko tenei. Kaore ahau i tino marama he aha nga korero a nga tohunga o te whare-wananga. I etahi wa ka korero Ingarihi, i etahi he reo noa atu. Kaore ahau i mohio he aha aua reo, no hea ranei. He ahua rite tonu etahi o nga korero ki nga karakia o mua. Kaore e mohiotia atu he aha nga kupu.
Ko te tohunga whakaako i te philosophy te mea tino he rawa atu. Ahakoa pehea, kore rawa ahau i mohio he aha te kiko o ana karakia. No reira ka whakaaro au me wehe maua ko te philosophy. Haere atu ana te philosophy.
Ka ki mai tetahi o aku hoa Maori ki au, “E Hoani. kei te whai tonu koe i o whakaakoranga e wha?”
Ka mea atu au ki a ia, “Kao. Kua mahue te philosophy i au.”
Ka ki mai ia, “Katahi ka tika to mahi. He nui rawa te wha. Kia kaha inaianei kia paahi ena e toru. Kei te pai koia te mahi nei ki a koe?”
Ka mea atu au, “Tino pai rawa atu!”
Na, ko te raruraru tuarua ko te anthropology. Ki taku mohio kaore te tohunga whakaako i tino pai mai ki au. He aha ia i penei ai ki au kaore ahau i mohio. Ko tetahi whakaaro i pa mai ki
konw what is entailed?”
I said to him, “I'll manage.”
Then he said to me, “What course are you pursuing?”
So I replied, “B.A., M.A., or Doctor. It doesn't matter to me which.”
That professor looked at me, he gave a little cough, and said, “Well, let us say you are pursuing a B.A. Now what subjects are you studying this year?”
I replied, “Maori, English, Anthropology and Philosophy.”
And that porfessor coughed again, “Do you think you can manage these?”
I said to him, “Why, certainly! I can speak Maori! and so Maori should not be too difficult. I can speak English. It should follow that English won't be too difficult.”
He shook his head as though he was in deep sorrow and he said, “Yes, you speak English passably enough. But I can't help thinking you don't appreciate the difficulties ahead of you. Now, tell me, what about anthropology? Is there any particular reason why you should want to study this subject?”
I said to him, “I have heard it said that anthropology is a very easy option. That's why I want to take it.”
He exclaimed, “Indeed, easy is it! By and by, John, you'll discover soon enough whether it is easy or difficult!” The fellow appeared to be angry. He said, “The interview is over. Will you go out now?” And I thought, now, why should this fellow be angry with me? No matter how long I scratched my head I could find no reason for his anger.
At length the lectures began. I met some Maori fellows who had been long enough at university to become hosts instead of visitors. One of them said to me, “Greetings, friend!” I replied with, “And greetings to you!” He said, “How are you?” He: “Oh, fine!” I: “How are you liking this work!” I said to him, “Oh, very fine. Look boy, it's no trouble at all.” Those Maori fellows went on their way.
Being at university was a joy to me. It was a most entertaining home. The number of enjoyable occasions there were! There were pictures, dances, games and visits to the hotel! And the number of girls who were there—Pakeha. Maori and Indians with eves that twinkled so! Talk about this home, there is none better!
The months glided by and then I began to get a little uneasy. The biggest trouble was this. I wasn't too clear what the professors of the university were saving. Sometimes they spoke English and at other times they would speak an entirely different language. I never knew what the language was or where it came from. Some of their lectures were not unlike the incantations of bvgone days. You couldn't catch the individual words.
The professor lecturing on philosophy was the
au ko tenei. Kei te hae taua tangata kei riro mai i au te B.A., te M.A., te takuta ranei. Koira ia i korero parau ai kia kore ai e mau i au ona matauranga. Ka mahue maua ko te anthropology. Ka noho e rua kei te toe.
Ka mahi, a, ka tae mai te wa wehi, te wa mo te whakataetae. E tama, ka whakarerea au e aku atua na ratau nei ahau i awhina i Rangitahi, i Te Aute! Kaore ahau i pahi. Haere atu ana te B.A., te M.A., me te takuta, me aku wawata mo te iwi Maori!
14th Jan., 1961.
Written at Bay of Islands Te Haumi Motor Camp.
worst case. No matter how I tried I could NOT get the gist of his incantations. So I thought philosophy and I should part. Away went the philosophy unit.
One of my Maori friends later said to me, “John, are you still taking your four subjects?”
I said to him, “No. I've left philosophy behind.” He said, “You did the wise thing. Four were too many. Concentrate now on three and pass them. Does this studying business agree with you?” I replied, “Most certainly!”
My second lot of worries came with anthropology. I felt that the professor didn't like me too much. Why he should feel this way toward me, I didn't know. One thought that entered my mind was this. The fellow was jealous because I might get a B.A., M.A., or Doctorate. That was why he talked nonsense, so I couldn't catch his knowledge. So Anthropology and I parted company. There were two left.
I worked and worked and at last that terrible moment arrived, the time for the examinations. Man, the gods which assisted me through Rangitahi and Te Aute deserted me! I didn't pass. My dream of getting a B.A., M.A., or Doctor melted away; so too my great plans for the benefit of the Maori people!
MEETINGS ON MAORI EDUCATION
SECONDARY HEADS DISCUSS
“In my recent visits to Maori schools, both primary and post-primary, I have been greatly impressed by the tremendous progress made in the last 10 years,” said Mr Ray Bradley, Officer for Maori Education, of the Department of Education, in Auckland last June.
Mr Bradley was opening a special in-service training course for 24 principals and senior teachers in post-primary schools where there is a significant proportion of Maori pupils.
Mr Bradley asked the teachers to discuss ways in which Maori students in secondary schools can be helped to make better progress. He pointed out that in Northland College and at Tauranga Maori students had won oratory contests in which there were many entrants. “There was no doubt about their ability to express themselves in English,” he added.
Among the topics discussed by the teachers at the Course in Auckland were the teaching of English, science, social studies and library work in post-primary schools.
Summing up the work of the course at the end of the week, Mr Bradley said there had been valuable discussion on the way post-primary schools could assist Maori pupils, particularly those coming from remote areas.
He also paid a tribute to the serious thought and study the Post-Primary Teachers' Association had given to all aspects of Maori education.
SCHOOLS AND MAORI
The second meeting of the Interdepartmental Committee on Maori Education was held in Wellington last June. Members of the Committee comprised senior officers of the Departments of Maori Affairs and Education. The chairman was Mr F. R. G. Aitken, Assistant Director of Education.
“The committee was formed earlier this year,” said Mr Aitken, “to help officers of Maori Affairs and Education to co-operate more closely on all questions relating to Maori education. And I'm sure that this co-operation will be of great benefit to us all.”
Among topics discussed at the meeting were:
Pre-school education for Maori children.
The role of the Maori Welfare Officer in relation to education and vocational guidance and
The identification and encouragement of pupils of higher intelligence.
IN NEW ZEALAND
Maori music today is very different in spirit and purpose from the art that was practiced for many generations by the vigorous high-primitive people who inhabited New Zealand before the coming of the white settlers about 150 years ago. The difference is not so much a matter of the actual sound of the music as it is of the function or part that music plays in a primitive society. Music is more closely associated with the everyday life of the people in a primitive society than it is in more highly civilised ones. For the Maori people of pre-European times, music was indispensable in almost every activity of life. This is very different from the use of music in the Western world where its chief purpose is for pleasure, relaxation and aesthetic delight. The Maori of today can choose to be interested in the music of his ancestors but he is free also to get along without it. This means, in general terms, that for primitive man, music is a vital necessity whereas, with people in higher stages of cultural development, its use is a matter of choice.
Dr Charles Burney, the 18th century music historian, defines the function of music in the Western world in the following way:
“Music is an innocent luxury, unnecessary to our existence but a great improvement and gratification of sense and bearing.”
Compare Burney's definition with one given in William's Dictionary of the Maori Language for an important word connected with music. The word “karakia” is defined thus:
“Charm spell, incentation: particularly the ancient rites proper to every important matter in the life of the Maori.”
The words “every important matter” indicate the very close association that music had in Maori community life in former times. Every happening, whether connected with life, death, marriage, initiation, love, mourning, work, play or ceremonial rites had its appropriate musical ritual. The watchman on duty in the pa at night sang a “whakaaraara pa” to keep the watch awake or to give warning of danger.
The operator sang a “tanga moko” or tattooing-beguiling song to divert the patient's mind during the painful operation of tattooing. In hauling a canoe the boatmen sang a “to waka” to synchronise their movements and the rowers of a canoe kept strict time with their paddles to the rhythm of a “tuki waka.” When kites were flown for the purpose of divining the future the tohunga chanted a charm called a “turu” or “karakia pakaukau”. Special “oriori” were composed for the birth of a child of rank, “waiata tangi” were used for mourning ceremonies, “waiata aroha” to express love or yearning, and visitors were welcomed with a “tau marae”. Even the children spun their tops to an “oriori potaka” throwing them down all together at a particular point in the song. Chants were also used for the important purpose of committing to memory tribal history, legends, genealogies and the occult lore of the race which was passed from one generation to the next by specially chosen people. In that way music helped to supply a deficiency due to the lack of a written language.
PART OF EVERYDAY LIFE
The old Maori music is often called ‘primitive,’ in the sense of one being “in an early stage of development,” that is, belonging to undeveloped peoples. However, the word “primitive” does not
mean that the music is “simple”; there is nothing simple about the microtonal intervals (intervals smaller than a semitone) which give a distinctive flavour to Maori chant.
Primitive music, then, is the art of peoples, people who have no written language and therefore no formulated theoretical system. It is aurally passed on from one generation to the next.
The most important difference between primitive music and art music is to be found in the purpose which music serves in relation to the life of the community. In the Western world, music is a thing apart, something that affects the lives of some people seriously and others, hardly at all. But in a primitive society the case is very different; it concerns the everyday life of each person in the tribe in an intimate way that is quite unknown in more highly developed communities. Reference has already been made to the important role of music in pre-European Maori life.
Primitive music is primarily vocal, and instrumental music, where it exists at all, is used to accompany singing. An instrumental song has words associated with it. The words are of prime importance and the tune serves the purpose of the words. A “song without words” is a Western concept of music as is also the idea of listening to music as an end in itself.
Elsdon Best explains that when a Maori flute player played a “rangi koauau” he would try to suggest the words associated with that tune by his manner of playing the flute.
“It would sometimes happen,” he wrote, “that an adept would so play his flute as to make the sounds resemble the wording of a song; in such a case his playing was much admired by women.”
The second point of difference between primitive and art music is, then, that in primitive music the words are of primary importance and in art music, music need not and often does not serve the purpose of the words. In other words, the music can be an end in itself.
SONGS HAD A PURPOSE
A third difference lies in the restricted range of melody which is a feature of many primitive styles. No attempt is made to use the full range of sounds the human voice is capable of producing. The average, untrained voice has a range of about a tenth but primitive melodies are often based on patterns consisting of two, three or four notes. And, not only are the patterns limited in range, but they are repeated over and over again, with only slight variations of the pattern. To Western ears, this endless repetition goes beyond the limits of endurance but, for the initiated, there is no feeling of monotony because both those who sing and those who listen are concentrating on the words and the purpose of the song.
I have noticed that when a group of Maoris are together and one sings a song or chant the others listen intently to the words and show amusement, indignation or sadness according to the character of the words. They even carry on an animated conversation during and after the performance. The Pakeha who listens judges it solely from the Western idea of music for pleasure and hears only a primitive type of melody which soon becomes tedious.
In the matter of tone, primitive singers produce nasal, thin, harsh, fierce or indistinct sounds which seldom conform to Western ideas of beautiful particular type of tone can often be found in the tone. Some clues on the reason for the use of a purpose of the song. The hunter luring the game into his traps will use a different type of tone from the witch doctor who is trying to scare away the demon of sickness from his patient.
It will be noticed that each characteristic feature of primitive music refers back to the purpose of the song and its relation to some activity of everyday life in the community.
THE POWER OF SONG
Another very important aspect of primitive music, which can only be touched on here, is the association of music and magic. This is an age-old partnership which must have come about through the extraordinary psychological effect which music has on the mind of man. It is a common expression to describe a fine performance of music as “sheer magic'. The medical profession today sometimes prescribes listening to music as a cure for certain types of nervous and mental disorders. This hidden power of music has been felt by men in all ages and in varying stages of cultural development, as the following examples, drawn from widely different sources, will show.
When David sang before Saul, the sweet sounds of his singing had the effect of turning aside the king's anger and of making him repent of his evil intention of killing David.
Krishna, one of the ancient gods of India, played his flute with such ravishing effect that the normal course of nature was altered.
“The rivers stopped flowing, the birds halted in their flight and all inanimate things under the sun grew brighter.”
In the old German legend of the “Pied Piper” all the children of the town of Hamelin were lured away from their homes by the magic of the piper's music.
“Out came the children running Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after the Wonderful music with skipping and laughter:”
The flute, with its extraordinary pure tone, has always been the instrument of magic, even more than the human voice.
The Maori of former times was not unaware of the magic that slept in the little carved koauau that hung round the chief's neck. When the young and beautiful chieftainess, Hinemoa, heard the love call played by Tutanekai on his flute:
“She felt as if an earthquake shook her to make her go to the beloved of her heart.”
There is an old Maori proverb that says:
“Ka tangi te koauau, te kanakana te hae.”
(When the koauau is heard the jealous eye is on the watch.)
SONGS WERE MAGIC
In their desire to control forces they did not fully understand primitive peoples the world over have invented various forms of magic to bring about all kinds of desired effects. The magic rites of the priest, the tohunga, the witch doctor or the medicine-man have taken the form of incantations, charms, spells or ritual songs by the aid of which those tribal leaders claimed to control the weather, the growth of crops, to cure the sick, to foretell the future, to bring success in war, hunting or fishing and to break the spell of evil spirits. Very rigid rules had to be observed in the performance of magic rites to make sure that the charm or spell would work. This secret power was not entirely “phoney”, to use a popular expression. Behind the “hocus pocus” of many magic rites there existed a fund of good psychology, intuition, acquired and even occult knowledge.
[The effect of such binding rites on the musical culture of a tribe or race was to hold it static for long periods at a time. The only possibility of change would lie in a major revolution in ways of living and thinking such as overtook the ancient Maori culture at the coming of the white settlers to New Zealand, 150 years ago.]
It will be seen from this brief discussion that a primitive musical culture can only be judged by its power to express the racial character and way of life of the people who have created it. One of the early Pacific explorers who accompanied Captain Cook on his second voyage to the South Seas saw the intimate relationship between the racial character and temperament of the Maori people and its expression in the emotional language of their music.
“The taste of the New Zealanders for Music,” wrote Forster, “and their superiority in this respect to other nations of the South Seas, are to me stronger proof in favour of their hearts than all the idle eloquence of philosophers can invalidate.”
The decorating of the Maori room at the Tokomaru Bay District High School became an opportunity for the local women to revive the ancient art of tukutuku. This article describes how the tukutuku panels were made and also describes the various patterns common in East Coast tukutuku, illustrated by photographs. The mixture of ancient and modern designs is fascinating and shows the art is still developing.
TUKUTUKU AT TOKOMARU BAY
Tukutuku, or lattice work, is used to line Maori meeting houses and similar public buildings. It can be seen throughout New Zealand, and there are many fine examples of this form of decoration on the East Coast. One such is the “Maori Room” at the Tokomaru Bay District High School which was completed last year. This is a small room, in which examples of Maori Art have been gathered. The walls have been covered by panels of tukutuku which are held in place by borders carved and painted by Mr Pine Taiapa.
Members of the Maori people of Tokomaru Bay spent many months in the creation of the tukutuku panels. Essentially group work, many people gave their time and labour to the task.
When the weaving began, women spent all day and up to midnight in the old manual block at the work. Meals were prepared and eaten in the kitchen there so that as little time as possible should be lost.
Lively interest was taken in the work by all sections of the community, and many Europeans and visitors to the school have expressed great admiration for the beauty of the finished panels.
The preparation of the materials used took at least six months and was the most laborious part of the work. The leaves of the native kiekie, which is a parasitic plant growing usually on other trees or on cliffs, were cut from the roots, each leaf separately.
Running down the leaf are central ribs, and it is this part only that is used in tukutuku. The green part on either side was cut off and though
KAO KOA: The armpits of a warrior striding along swinging his arms with manly vigour. Flax mats of this design are used only by those of high rank. The wife of a chief sat for a fortnight on such a mat before the birth of her child. She was visited by no one, her food being brought to her only by special slaves. Such treatment was supposed to aid her to produce a son of great strength.
MUMU: The checkerboard design incorporating part of the fly-catcher design. An outstanding panel of two distinct designs which is satisfying from all angles and is the most typical of Maori art. It uses only the three traditional colours of black and white kie kie with the red background.
NIHO TANIWHA: The teeth of the Taniwha (e.g. Mako) which was used as a threat for the children when they misbehaved. This design is often used on kits.
usually discarded, the women at Tokomaru Bay used it to make pois.
Expeditions to the back of Tologa Bay were needed to procure enough of the vine, which was gathered by the truck load.
The rib part of the kie kie was boiled in plain water and dried to make it white. Natural dyes were used to colour the kie kie. The barks of the hinau and mako trees were boiled in a vat with the vine. The addition of rusty tins to the brew helped the dye to stick. The kie kie was then immersed in the special black swamp earth at Tikitiki and left for some weeks for the dye to take.
Pingao, which is naturally a bright yellow when dried, was also used in the panels.
After the kie kie had been processed the actual weaving was begun.
Wooden frames were nailed to crossbars and hung vertically to hold the panels. Dried sticks of the pampas grass were cut to a special length and the “sleeves” slipped off them to make them a uniform thickness. They were tied vertically to the frame with flax; an odd or even number, often about 40 to 47, were used depending upon the design. Nails were hammered down the frame at intervals to support the horizontal roof-red painted wooden slats.
The border of the panels, which is called “tumatakahuki”, a special stitch of its own, was woven first to hold the reeds and slats in place. The design chosen was worked out on graph paper, the stitches, or crosses, being inked in. All designs were begun from the centre and drawn in outwards.
The weaving was done from the graph paper pattern and usually one colour was systematically woven first.
Small strips of kie kie were pushed between a slat and the reed at the back until two ends protruded at the back of the panel. These were knotted—and this forms one stitch. The design is formed in a series of crosses, with variations in the form of the crosses.
Two people worked to a panel, one weaving, one at the back, tying the ends. Each large panel has between 11,000 and 13,000 stitches, at least 100 to a row.
In all, nine large panels about 7 feet high, and several smaller panels were made. Traditional patterns were used in the main, but some were designed by the local people. There are three special panels, a War Memorial panel; a panel incorporating the initials of the school; and one with a name of the school “Hatea a Rangi” woven into it. A large panel in memory of Mrs Kiri Matahiki, has also been done, using some of her own purple and green dyed kie kie with the traditional colours.
Several of the traditional patterns were used. Some of them including the roimata stitches, roimata turuturu and roimata toroa, which represent the tears of the albatross in an old Maori legend. Inclusion of these stitches in any panel turns it and
The people of Tokomaru Bay have every reason to be proud of their work, which is a magnificent example of group work, and patience. The result is a room of great artistic value and an inspiration to all those interested in the fostering of Maori Art.
The initials of the Tokomaru Bay District High School against the outline of the high hill which backs the school, “Toi Roa”. An example of European style art interpreted in the Maori manner.
GIRLS COME TO THE CITY
It is easier for young Maoris to settle in the city if they have a responsible adult person there to guide them, and help them over such difficult problems as accommodation. This story tells about a group of girls from the Wairoa district who were given real help by the factory who employed them, and by a Maori welfare officer. It shows that if only such help was available to everyone, life for the young city Maori could be far more secure.
Our cover girl, Aroha Te Aho, arrives at Wellington station from her home sheepfarm at Waihua, Hawkes Bay.
We have heard a lot over the years about the Maori “drift to the cities”. When it started to happen, it worried people.
But this moralising did not stop the “drift”; The pleasures of village life are sometimes a little over-rated. One may live in an overcrowded house, do a lot of hard work and suffer much inconvenience, without getting any obvious reward for one's labours. It is natural for youth to look around for something better— often it can only be found in the towns.
Most young people are too wise to fall altogether for “bright lights'. Life in the city is not easy: you have to work regularly, be very careful with money, accommodation often gives trouble, and friends and relations have a habit of getting themselves into difficulties you have to help them out of.
Worst of all is that you never know what this big thing, the City, it going to do to you next. You get talked into ideas you are really not too keen about, as soon as you seem comfortably settled, something comes out of the blue and you don't know where to turn next.
Many go back home for a while when things get just too complicated. But that does not help either, you have to leave home again.
This sort of “drift” has been going on for about 20 years. Meanwhile some things have been done to help the young Maoris in the cities: hostels, clubs, help with employment and some other welfare services. The bulk of young people, however, have not been reached by these services; many, indeed, do not need help from outside, they look after themselves very well.
INDUSTRY CAN HELP
A very good system of moving to town is that worked out by Amos Softgoods Ltd. of Wellington, whose friendly personnel manager, Mr White, brought a group of Maori girls from Wairoa to the big city a year ago, and has done a great deal to help them to get settled in.
Mr White asked Mrs Lena Manuel, the Maori Welfare Officer in Wairoa, to find the girls for him; in response, the sent him a list of available girls with their school qualifications and other details. He then travelled to Wairoa to meet the girls and their parents, told them about the job, engaged them, and paid for their journey to Wellington. He engaged twelve, to arrive at the rate of two a week.
Most of these girls had had three or even four years' secondary education; only few of them had commercial sewing experience.
At the Wellington factory lunch room; left to right: Caei Te Aho (Waihua), Teia Pomana (Nuhaka), Aroha Te Aho (Waihua) and Lybia Huata (Huramua)
Mr White promised the parents the girls would be properly trained for their jobs, that their welfare would be looked after outside working hours.
He met them at the train, advanced them two weeks' wages, drove them around on a tour to see the city; took them to their lodgings he had arranged. The question of accommodation cost him a lot of trouble—Mr White had to do a good
Mr White told Te Ao Hou he spent a good deal of time trying to find flats by answering newspaper advertisements. He wrote as many as 10 to 20 letters a week; got some replies, had long discussions with the landlords and was usually successful in persuading them to take the girls. Some of them are still living in these flats, as they proved very good tenants; in other cases when the flats were only temporary, the girls moved to Pendennis hostel which meanwhile had reopened. Meanwhile Mr White is looking for more flats in wellington. (Any offers?)
THE GIRLS SETTLE IN WELLINGTON
It turned out that the girls learnt their job quickly; more quickly that the average, they were first put in a factory where the work was simple and straightforward, this is the Kilbirnie factory where our photographs were taken. Some later graduated to the city workshop which produces the more elaborate designs. Apart from fourteen from Wairoa the company employs a number of Maori girls from other centres, including Auckland. Some of these were placed through Maori Welfare.
REVIVAL OF MAORI LEADERSHIP?
In many places a tribal committee meeting occurs only once a year; and even then they are only attended by the members and a few untiring old faithfuls.
Do tribal committees still have anything to offer to the Maori (apart from subsidies)? That depends very much on what programmes the committees have, what problems the community entrusts to them. If they did everything there is in the Act, they would be busy day and night. In many places, however, we get social progress from organizations other than the tribal committees and this of course is just as good.
However, tribal committees have been given a chance to liven up as a result of the recent meeting of Maori leaders in Wellington.
At this meeting, already widely reported in newspapers, Maori leaders and the Government agreed to set up a Dominion Maori Council of Tribal Executives. This would be in direct contact with Government on any matters the Maori people want to have discussed.
A law to be brought down this year would give this Dominion Council the same official status already enjoyed by the Committees and Executives.
From time to time delegates from tribal executives of a Maori land court district will meet together to discuss their ideas and problems. These delegates will form district councils. There have been district Maori councils since 1952, but these have not had legislative sanction and until recently only the Waiariki Council was really active. We may expect in future they will be active in all districts. They will be composed of elected delegates from the executives as in the past and although they will be fully independent in their work, they can get assistance from the district welfare officer in each district.
Decisions of the district councils will then be taken to the Dominion Council for discussion. The Council may then call upon the Maori people to do what is necessary, or it may approach the Government, at the highest level, for help. If successful, the Dominion Council will provide nation-wide Maori leadership, which it can exercise through its district councils and executives. If successful, therefore, the Dominion Council will have the effect of greatly livening up the work of the executives.
The idea of this national council was developed by a group of Maori leaders under the inspiration of Major Reiwhatu Vercoe. Plan and constitution gradually took shape in a series of meetings called by the Waiariki District Council. At the last of these meetings, at Rotorua, end 1960, the functions of the Council were set out more or less as follows:
to take an active interest in all matters pertaining to or affecting the wellbeing of the Maori.
to deliberate on such matters and to make representations to Government and other agencies.
to encourage the formation and active functioning of district councils and tribal executives and committees.
to promote fellowship and understanding between Maori and European.
to act as a responsible and representative mouth-piece of the Maori people in dealing with government, with national and public organizations and with individuals.
The Council is to consist of up to three members from each land court district. These will be elected by the district councils.
The leaders meeting at Wellington are therefore not necessarily the members of the District Council when established. They are people of note invited by Major Vercoe and his associates to help form the Council, but they will stand down when the time comes for proper elections at the various district council meetings.
The secretary of the provisional council is Mr Norman Perry, of Opotiki, who has wide experience in working with the Maori people. During the war he was Y.M.C.A. Field Secretary with the
Maori Battalion. After the war he was for a time District Maori Welfare Officer of the Rotorua-Bay of Plenty area. He was also secretary to Sir Apirana Ngata in connection with Whanau Apanui executive activities. Assistant secretary is Mr Claude Anaru, one time deputy-mayor of Rotorua and secretary of the Arawa Trust Board.
Other members of the provisional council, listed with the district they represent, are as follows:
Tokerau: Sam Maioha, Jack Rogers.
Auckland: Matiu Te Hau, Waaka Clark.
Waikato-Maniapoto: P. Katu, Ch. Davis.
Waiariki: Major Reiwhatu Vercoe, J. Boynton.
Tairawhiti: Arnold Reedy, Henry Ngata, Turi Carroll.
Ikaroa: Steve Watene, John Bennett, Rangi Tutaki.
Aotea: Pateriki Hura, Pei Jones.
South Island: McDonald, Joseph Karetai.
The Rt Rev. W. N. Panapa, Bishop of Aotearoa, was present during the meeting and pronounced the Benediction.
The provisional council dealt with one matter of particular substance during its first meeting at Wellington. This was the setting up of the Maori Education Foundation, a measure to provide more financial help for young Maoris who want to be educated for the skilled trades and professions. The form this Foundation is to take will become clearer once the Bill by which it is to be established comes before Parliament. Meanwhile, an indication was given in the Governor General's opening address to Parliament last June, in which Lord Cobham made the following announcement:
“My Government will establish a Maori Education Foundation, to be financed by an initial Government grant of £125,000 in inscribed stock and by private contributions.
“The object is to increase substantially the number of scholarships for post-primary and university education and to provide more vocational training.”
A number of Maori leaders (above) attend a private screening of the National Film Unit's picture ‘The Maori Today’. Unfortunately some delegates had already left Wellington the night after conference when the screening was held, so that they could not be photographed. The delegates and officials on this picture are, from left to right: Messrs William T. Ngata (Secretary to the Minister of Maori Affairs, Wellington); Claude Anaru (Asst. Secretary of the Provisional Council, Rotorua); Pateriki Hura (Taumarunui); Matiu Te Hau (Auckland); William Herewini (Controller of Maori Welfare, Wellington); Rt Rev. W. N. Panapa, Bishop of Aotearoa; Major Reiwhatu Vercoe (Chairman of Provisional Council, Rotorua); J. Boynton (Opotiki); M. te Rotohiko Jones (Liaison Officer, Minister of Maori Affairs); Rangi Tutaki (Hawkes Bay); John Bennett (Hawkes Bay); Arnold Reedy (East Coast); Norman Perry (Secretary of Provisional Council, Opotiki); Steve Watene (Wellington).
John Ashton, photograph
The provisional council was delighted with this offer from the Government. Several members immediately paid £20 out of their own pockets to join the Foundation. As in the case of the Dominion Council, members were given details of the legislation that was being drafted, and after study and discussion, leaders and Government agreed on the principles that would be followed. After the meeting, there was great satisfaction with what had been achieved.
* The Rt Rev. W. N. Panapa has written an article giving his private view of the Maori Education Foundation. See page eight.
THE MEETING HOUSE
“TE POHO O TAMATERANGI”
About ten miles out of Wairoa, on a road branching off the Waikaremoana-Wairoa highway, you will find the Rangiahua marae. This marae has a meeting-house and dining hall of which its owners must be very proud.
The meeting-house, Te Poho o Tamaterangi, was built in 1893. It is a particularly beautiful house, and a very unusual one. On the outside there is a certain amount of carving the ends of the barge-boards (or maihi) are carved, and so are the two main upright posts (amo). On the top of the house there is as usual a carved head (koruru), and above it is a figure brandishing a mere; this must be Tamaterangi himself.
But it is really the paintings which make this house so interesting. In the porch and inside the house, on the slabs (poupou) where you usually see the carved figures of ancestors, this house has painted figures. They are formed out of the kind of notched line which is often used in rafter patterns, and each figure is brightly painted in red, blue, brown and green. There are a number of houses, especially on the East Coast, which have
painted poupou. All of them are attractive, but the paintings in Te Poho o Tamaterangi are some of the most beautiful I have seen.
On many of the rafters there is the same kind of notched line as that from which the figures are formed. Both the rafters and the poupou have a white background, and the paintings on the walls and ceiling join up in such a way that the one seems a continuation of the other. The house is light and airy, cheerful and also very elegant. On the front and back walls inside the house are manaia—that profile figure which you find everywhere in Maori carving. You can see some on the left in the photograph. There are many different kinds of manaia, but I have never before seen manaia at all like these ones. They are most beautiful and original little figures.
In another way, too, this house seems to be unique. Between the legs of each figure there is painted a flowering plant. The leaves are bright green and the flowers are red. There is also a ponga with curling fronds, and a clump of raupo. Each bush is quite different from its neighbours, and they are painted with great precision and delicacy.
REBUILDING THE MARAE
Mr and Mrs Sam Cotter and Mr Meimei Hamilton, who live close to the house, very kindly told us about its history. They told us that Te Poho o Tamaterangi was designed by a carver called Hukanui. Hukanui was born near Turanga, south of Gisborne. He took part in the carving of a number of houses, especially the famous old house ‘Te Whai a te Motu’, near Ruatahuna. He died in 1922. But though Hukanui designed Te Poho o Tamaterangi, it was built by local people. Everyone helped in the work, whether with the carpentry, the tukutuku, the painting and carving, or with making mats for the floor.
A few years ago it was decided that the Rangiahua marae needed a dining hall. To help raise the money for this, its owners sold a block of land near Gisborne, called Tahora. So the name of the dining hall is Tahora, and a very fine building it is. It has excellent kitchens, and a large hall which is also used sometimes for dances.
Then the meeting-house was rebuilt and repainted. Its owners collected money to do this, and the government provided a subsidy, as it also had for the dining hall. This time there were people specially employed to do the work, but again many of the local people helped in their spare time, and the ladies made tukutuku and mats. Mr and Mrs Cotter were two of the people who helped in this way. It is wonderful to see how carefully the original paintings have been re-painted, for it must have been very difficult to do this. The dining hall was opened in 1956 and the meeting-house in 1958.
MEANING OF THE PAINTED
And what about those little painted bushes? Why are they there? We asked Mr and Mrs Cotter and Mr Hamilton this. They told us that the plants did have a special meaning, but that there is no-one left now who knows exactly what this was. The plants represent words, in such a way that the poupou together spell out a message. Mr Hamilton told us that this message was one of welcome, in the following words: ‘Haere mai e aku tamariki e aku mokopuna tomongia te poho o to koutou tipuna te poho o Tama-te-Rangi”.
There are almost as many words in this message as there are little bushes. If these plants do represent a message, I wonder if it might be that each one represents a real kind of plant, not just an imaginary one? Perhaps then the first letter of the name of each plant might represent the first letter of each word in the message of welcome. If this were so, and if you knew the secret, each painting would give you one word in this message. But this is only a guess. Nobody really knows now.
MAORI VILLAGE IS
Among a number of small Maori villages in the Auckland Province that are rapidly developing into modern settlements on the lines of the Orakei and Panmure housing estates is IHUMATAO.
Less than five years ago this village, or as it is commonly called, pa, consisted of several substandard weatherboard houses lying along the banks of an unhealthy tidal creek in a market gardening zone four miles south of Onehunga.
Considered a potential slum area by both the Manukau County Council and Maori people of the pa itself, application was made to the Department of Maori Affairs for individual housing loans.
On these being granted, section clearing, demolition and building was begun almost immediately with the result that there are at present fourteen new semi-detached houses in the village with others planned for construction in the next twelve months.
The building of new houses, of course, is not the only aim of the Ihumatao Maori people; also scheduled for construction is a new meeting house to replace the present wooden building that has served as a picture theatre and dance hall for the past ten years.
Impressed by all this constructive activity in the pa, the Manukau County Council also decided to subscribe to the project, that is, lay down new approach roads and make arrangements for the community to be conected with the Auckland Electric Power Supply.
Which brings us to the people of the village themselves.
With a population of 91 adults and 100 children, Ihumatao as a Maori settlement goes back to pre-European times. According to Mr W. Walker the tribe that occupied this part of the Manukau Harbour was the Ngatiwhatua, who were replaced by the present people, who came from the Waikato, in the early fifties.
When the second Maori war broke out in Taranaki the Ihumatao Maoris made their way to the Waikato and remained there until war's end.
On returning they quickly settled down again to farming and working occasionally for local pakeha farmers and, later, Chinese market gardeners; occupations which the majority of men in the village continue to pursue right up till today. But naturally there are exceptions; among them Mr Sonny Wilson who is a school teacher in Rarotonga, and a number of men who are drivers and permanent employees in freezing works and on the Manukau Drainage Scheme which recently came into operation.
Once in a while there's a wedding or two in the village: at the beginning of December last year Tahi Tumai and Helen Oti (left) and Ray Bishop and Merle Matehaere (right) were married at the pa. W. A. Taylor, photograph
As for the children of the pa, their school records compare favourably with their pakeha mates: attendance is good; ability to join into group activities high and academic records generally average. In regard to sports, well, who has heard of a Maori boy who couldn't make a swift touch down—providing he's got the ball?
For the teenagers in the village, Saturday night is THE night: the night for rocking an' rolling; with a western movie or two thrown in to keep things going till midnight!
Like all responsible Maori communities, Ihumatao has its democratically appointed warden, whose job is to see that one or two fundamental rules relating to communal living are quietly observed by everyone in the pa. As evidence of the villagers' confidence in Mr R. Roberts they have elected him warden 10 times running! A fine record by any standards.
OKAUIA PARENTS AND TEACHERS
A European teacher in a Maori school, whether he likes it or not, belongs to the ‘leader’ class and becomes part of the community. According to the Maori temperament, anything that comes in such close contact with his home life becomes personal.
In Mr Peter White, the community of Okauia (six miles from Matamata) has a headmaster who is more than willing to help with its problems, educational or otherwise. He encourages the practising of Maori songs and dances, arts and crafts among his 28 pupils. The pictures illustrate his excellent programme.
An elder, Mrs Mere Douglas, and Mrs White, who has lately become an exponent of taniko, inspect the work.
KI TE ETITA
Tena koe me to Ropu o roto i te Tari mo nga mea Maori. Tēna koutou katoa i roto ano i nga ahuatanga o te tau.
E hoa, i whakaaro ai ahau kia tuhituhi atu ki a koe mo runga i te whakapapa mo Puhiwāmhine i puta nei i roto i Te Ao Hou No. 34, maehe 1961.
E whakamāmrama ana taua tātai whakapapa arā, pēnei:—
— E hoa, kei roto i nga pukapuka a ōku mātua o Waikato kaore rawa a Hotuāwhio i uru ki tēnei wahi tātai whakapapa. Ko te whakapapa a ōku matua o Waikato a, tae atu hoki ki ētahi o Ngāti Maniapoto pēnei:—
— E hoa, ko tēnei tātai whakapapa kei runga i te kōhatu whakamaharatanga o Mahuta kei Rukumoana e tu ana. No reira, i te whakatakotoranga o tēnei whakapapa ki runga i te kohatu o Mahuta i whea ai nga tāngata e whakauru nei ia Hotuāwhio ki roto tahi i tēnei whakapapa. He aha rawa te take i waihotia ai e rātou kia hē te whakapapa mo runga i te kōhatu mo Kīngi Mahuta.
E hoa, naku ano i whakahē ētehi o nga whakapapa o roto i te pukapuka a Kelly, ko Tainui te ingoa apiti atu hoki ki nga whakapapa o roto i te pukapuka a Tākuta Roberton me ta te Polynesian Society.
Ko taku tino whakaaro kia tika te whakakaupapa i nga whakapapa kei waiho hei porarutanga mo nga uri whakatupu. Tēna koe.
Na Paahi Moke.
Kua kite iho ahau i nga kōrero o te reta a Paahi Moke i tuhi atu na ki a koe i te 11 o Mei 1961.
Ko te whakahē mo Hotuāwhio he take i tino nui te tautohetia i te tau 1950; i tū ai te Runanga o nga Kaumatua. Ko ahau te Tiamana o ta rātou hui i tū ai ki Te Tōkanganui-a-noho i Te Kuiti i taua tau.
Ko nga tātai o te whakapapa nei i tautohetia e toru:—
|Nama 1||Nama 2||Nama 3|
Nama 1:—Ko ta Waikato puta atu ki te Hauauru me ōna rohe katoa tēnei tātai. Ko Roore Erueti te kaumatua i kī koianei te kaupapa tika. I tautoko hoki a Ngati Raukawa i ta Roore. Ki ta Roore kōrero he teina kē a Hotuāwhio no Hotumatapū.
Nama 2:—Ko Peehitu to Ngāti Maniapoto i kōrero na Hari Te Whānonga a ia i ako ki nga whakapapa o Tainui. Ka kī a ia no mua mai ano te whakanoho i a Hotuāwhio hei tamaiti ma Hotumatapū.
Nama 3:—Ko nga kaumatua na rātou tēnei kaupapa ko Aihe Huirama me Te Nguha Huirama, engari mate kē rāua i mua atu. Ko nga pukapuka i tuhia ai a rāua whakapapa e ētehi atu nga kaupapa i mahue ake.
No muri noa mai i taua hui ka kite ahau i te pukapuka whakapapa na Kingi Te Rata. Ko te tangata nāna i tuhi taua pukapuka whakapapa ko Te Matau, he hekeretari na Kingi Te Rata. Ko te tātai o te whakapapa nei ki taua pukapuka i whai i te Nama 2. He pēra ano hoki te whakapapa kei runga i te kohatu kei te marae o Te Tōkanganui-a-noho i Te Kuiti e tū ana.
Hei mutanga iho. Ki te tukua ki ta te tokomaha ka kī au inaianei e tika ana te whakahē a Paahi Moke i taku whakapapa i roto i Te Ao Hou Nama 34. Ki taku whiriwhiri iho inaianei ko Ngāti Maniapoto anake i peka kē i te nuinga o nga iwi o Tainui, a ko te ahua nei no Ngāti Maniapoto te tangata nāna i tātai te whakapapa i tuhia ai e Te Matau ki te pukapuka whakapapa a Kīngi Te Rata.
Kaati ano, e te Etita, kia tuhi atu taku whanaunga a Paahi Moke i puta ai ēnei whakamārama i taku reta.
Pei Te Hurinui Jones
Ko te nuinga o ngai tatou e hanga wareware ana ki etahi o nga korero a o tatou matua. No reira ko te take i taangia ai enei pitopito korero hei whakaohooho i te hinengaro o te kaikorero a hei whakamahanahana hoki i tana wairua maori. Ko nga waiata me nga korero e mou iho i raro nei me tango mai i te pukapuka e mohiotia nei ko ‘Maori Mementos’ na Charles Oliver B. Davis i tuhi i te tau 1855. He Pakeha hoki i piri pono ki ona hoa Maori.
HE WAIATA NA TE POPOKORUA
RAUA KO TE TATARAKIHI
Tatarakihi:Hohoro mai e te hoa!
Kauaka e whakaroa, oi,
Arara! ka turua ta te popokorua,
Rawe noa ta nga taki whakahau.
Popokorua:U mai ki te keri,
I te rua mo te ua o te rangi.
No te makariri, wero te po nei, e.
Me te kohi mai ano i te kakano, e.
Hei o ake ma tama roto
Kia ora ai, e, i.
Tatarakihi:He pai aha koia taku? He noho noa,
Piri ake ki te pehao te rakau, e!
Inaina noa ake ki te ra e whiti nei
Me te whakatangi kau i aku paihau, e.
SONG OF THE LOCUST AND
Locust:Come hither quickly, O my friend,
And to my urgent call attend:
Thy work, O Ant, is wondrous fair,
And thy commanders act with care.
Ant:Come hither, thou, and dig the ground,
And raise with me a spacious mound,
Where we may house us from the rain
Of heaven, and hide our stores of grain
As food, when each successive blast,
Of winter's dreary night, sweeps past.
Locust:But is this not my sole delight,
To bask in sunbeams, warm and bright?
To rustle with my wings, and cling
To some high branch, and gaily sing?
THE STORY OF RONA
The following is the Legend of Rona. One bright moonlight night Rona was sent to fetch some water from a stream; in her hand was a basket, which contained a gourd. On her way to the water the moon suddenly disappeared behind a cloud, and the road being bad, she kicked her foot against some of the shrubs. This made her angry, and in her rage she cursed the moon, saying, “Wicked moon, not to come forth and shine.” This conduct of Rona's displeased the moon very much, who at once came down to the earth and seized her. Rona, in her turn, seized a tree which grew near the margin of the stream, but the moon tore up the tree by the roots, and flying away carried off Rona and her calabash, together with the tree. Rona's friends, thinking she was making a long stay, went in quest of her. After searching for some time, they called out, “Rona, Rona, where are you?” “Here am I,” said she, “mounting aloft with the moon and the stars.”
Ko te korero tara tenei mo Rona. I tetahi po atarua ka haere a Rona ki te utu wai; e mau ana i te ringa, te kete, he taha I roto. I te haerenga atu ki te wai ka taka te marama ki tua ki te kapua, rokohanga iho he ara kino, a, tutuki noa te wae ki nga rakau. No konei, ka riri ia, a, anga ana ka kanga ki te marama, ka mea ake, “Pokohua marama te puta mai koe kia marama.” Ka riri i konei te marama ki te mahi a Rona ka rere iho ia ki raro ka mau ki a Rona. Ka pupuri a Rona ki te rakau e tupu ana i te taha o te awa, otiia, hutia ana te rakau haere katoa nga pakiaka, kahaki tonu atu i a Rona, te rakau, me tana taha wai. Ka taria nei te hokinga o Rana ki te kainga ka haere ki te whakatau. Rapu nei rapu nei, ka pa te karanga “E Rona, e Rona, keihea koe?” Ka karanga iho tera, “E! tenei au te kake nei i roto i te marama, i te whetu.”
Titi mai te marama,
Titi mai te marama;
Na taratutu, na tarawewehi,
Kiharau i ponopono
Kihai koe i ponopono
Tau atu koe ko tawhiti
Waiho te tae ki a Matuku,
E ara ana te matahi taua, e!—ia.
Tenei te pa;
Tenei te tiwatawata;
Tenei te aka te houhia nei
Ko roto ko au, E! E! E! ia.
SONG OF THE SENTINEL DURING
Whilst the moon shines brightly
The weapons are placed in battle array;
And we are determined, while you are fearful.
Our spears did not take effect,
Nor did yours, for ye came not nigh.
Are ye coming to the contest?
Ah ye will be driven hence,
For know that even the drowsy
Ones of the fortress await your attack.
SONG OF THE SENTINEL DURING
THE MIDNIGHT HOURS
Lo here is the fortress—its
Inmates are watching and working.
They are binding the spars of the pa
With vines from the forest;
And behold I'm within
The enclosure! oh! oh!
E KAHU MAMAHU
I te taumata o Te Puke-ao-marama,
Ki tua i te uira-pa, i te tohu-Uru
He atarangi ka mekari e.
E Kahu mamahu o te po-atarau,
Kaua e wea a koe i te Tupuhi,
I te po, kei te tala rere mai e.
Ka mekari he atarangi
I te hopua kei hea te moko
Ka miti te Wai-mate:
He atarangi o he ripeka-paraire e.
E kahu mamahu o te po atarau
Kaua e wea a koe i te Tupuhi,
I te po, Kei te tala rere mai e.
Kawe te rakau-ata i te ra nui
Kua toki te taumanu o Te Waka-mahara
Ki te ripeka-rakau o he tangata e.
E Kahu mamahu o te po-atarau
Kaua e wea a koe i te Tupuhi,
I te po, Kei te tala rere mai e.
He ata; he po; he po-atarangi
Ko te marama ia i nga parirau-mohua
Te pungarehu o te hara kua muru—
E Kahu mamahu o te po-atarau.
TALKING OF HONESTY
Old Bill Evans plodded slowly up the hill to the boarding house. “I must be really getting old,” he thought. Really old—really old. The thought echoed down the passageway of his mind. It did not frighten him as one would suppose. It had come on him so slowly that he was able to adapt himself to the change.
“Well a man has to grow old sometime,” he had told himself and when the thought had first begun to prod at his mind. “Anyway, I've had a good life. I can't complain. If I had my life to live over again I think I would like to do the same things again. Except perhaps for five of those years. They weren't so nice. No. I wouldn't like to live those years again. But the rest of them: yes. I wouldn't mind those years again. They were good years. Even through all the hardship. But I guess that was part of the fun of it. But God,” he was thinking now as he dragged up the last stretch to the Happards' boarding house, “I wish all these aches and pains didn't have to come with it.”
He was breathing heavily from the climb. He paused to catch his breath and for the first time he noticed just how heavily he was breathing. He drew his breath in deeply and let it out noisily through his mouth. He did this several times. “Hell”, he said half aloud. He turned and looked back down the incline from where he had come. It was a long drag but the incline was very slight. “Hell”, he said again. This time in his mind.
He had just finished work and was on his way back to his lodgings for tea. Old Bill worked for the Post and Telegraph as a linesman. He had
worked for them for many years now. All over the country. Tonight on his way home he had stopped in at the T.A.B. and put two bob on “Bright Star” for the trots at Forbury the next day. He had for a while contemplated going into “The Cliffs” hotel for a spot, but told himself he didn't need it. And anyway he didn't feel like it so what was the use of having one. “It's only a damn habit, this stopping off to have one before tea,” he told himself. He thought of the men who would be half-drunk by now, red-faced and blearyeyed, swaying at the bar, and he smiled to himself. “Bill old boy,” he said, “you're got them all licked. You're not too bad.”
He turned now and continued up the incline. His legs and back were both aching. This caused him to walk with his back arched and leaning slightly forward with one hand to the small of his back. “Rheumatism”, he thought, and this scared him a little.
When he came abreast of the small grocer's shop he paused in his old man's way. Partly through habit, partly because subconsciously he knew there was something he had intended buying. “What is it?” he asked himself. “Oh yes, tobacco.” He walked into the small shop and rang the bell. There was no answer for a while, then a stir in the kitchen out back, and the owner, a middle-aged family man, came in through the curtains that hung over the doorway.
“How do you do?”
“Good evening,” old Bill Evans replied. “And how are you?”
“Not so bad.”
“Could I get a packet of Park Drive?—Better give's a book of papers too, please. Zig Zag. I'll take a packet of matches as well, too, while I'm at it.”
“Think it'll hold for the weekend?” the storekeeper asked.
“Oh, it looks all right,” old Bill said. “But it's hard to say with this weather. I hope it holds, though.”
“Going out to Forbury tomorrow?” the storekeeper asked.
“No, I'll stay back and listen on the radio. I'll be working right up to lunch time tomorrow so I don't think I'll have much time to get out there. I'm not feeling the best, either. I think I'll just stay around the house.”
The shopkeeper gave a quick glance out the window behind old Bill. “Should be a good day, tomorrow. ‘Adonis’ should go well, even ‘Bright Star’ might pull it off. He's got a good chance.”
“I've got five bob in him for a win,” old Bill said. “Hullo …”
“Oh no, it's all right,” old Bill said. He was feeling in his pockets for some money to pay for the tobacco. He had in his hand now a two and sixpenny bit that he could not account for. It came from the left-hand pocket of his coat and he knew that that was where he had put the change that the old gentleman in the T.A.B. had given him. “Something wrong here,” he said half aloud. The shopkeeper was looking at him, a doubtful smile on his thin freckled face. Old Bill looked at him. “Oh, it's nothing,” he said to the man. “I think someone gave me too much change, that's all.” I gave him ten bob, he was thinking. I put the change straight into this pocket. I remember that. I only put five bob on “Bright Star” and now I've got 7/6. He must have given me 2/6 too much. He must have. I wasn't taking much notice. Well, there's no question about it. I'll take it back. I'll probably miss my tea, though. Oh well, it's about time I shouted myself a meal out anyway.
He paid the shopkeeper and took his small parcel and started off back, through the door and down the street where he had just come. There was no doubt in his mind at all. There was no hesitating, no thought as to whether or not he should return the 2/6 to the cashier in the T.A.B. “Mind you,” he was telling himself, “I might not be like this on some occasion. But tonight, there's just no question of it.” He took his watch from
his pocket; it was a quarter past five. “The T.A.B. closes at half-past,” he thought. “But I think I'll get there all right if I step out a bit faster. I will miss my tea though, that's for sure.”
There were still a few minutes left before closing time when he reached the T.A.B. The place was nearly vacant. The old gentleman behind the third cage was still there. He was raking a few silver coins from a desk into his hand ready to put them away into the small tin for locking up.
“Excuse me,” old Bill said. The man looked up from where he was working, dumped the money into the tin and closed it.
“I was in here earlier on,” old Bill went on.
“Yes”, the old gentleman said.
“I put five bob on ‘Bright Star’ at Forbury tomorrow. I gave you ten bob and I think you gave me too much change.”
“Too much!” the old gentleman said.
“Yes. I think you gave me 2/6 too much. I want to return it.” Old Bill put the half crown down on the counter and slid it across to the old man. The cashier looked at him. He looked at old Bill Evans for a long time watching him full in the face. Old Bill had his eyes down looking at the half crown. He was not aware of the man watching him.
“Thank you,” the old gentleman said. “There's not many people would do that.”
“Perhaps not,” old Bill said. “Well, I hope it holds for tomorrow. ‘Bright Star’ was never much good on a heavy track.” He turned to go.
“Hold on a minute,” the old gentleman in the birdcage said. “You want to know who's going to win tomorrow?”
“Who doesn't?” Old Bill replied.
“This is just a tip, mind you,” the old genlteman said. He looked through the bars of the birdcage into the room behind old Bill Evans and in a lowered voice he said,” ‘Honey Boy’. Mind you, there's nothing sure. I'll put it on for you now if you like. You can take him instead of ‘Bright Star’. I don't think ‘Bright Star’ would have done any good anyway.” His voice was still lowered. He looked behind him sharply, then he turned back to old Bill again. “Do you want him?”
“This is from you?” old Bill Evans asked. It was he who was watching the other's face now.
“Yes, it is from me,” the old bookie said. There was a light dancing in his eyes. Old Bill Evans' face broke into a grin.
“Well, in that case I'd be a fool to say no. Yes, on your word, I'll take ‘Honey Boy’ in place of ‘Bright Star’. I'll still only make it five bob, though.”
“Right-oh”, the old gentleman said. “There's not many men who are as honest as you. There's not many men would have done what you did just now.”
The two men looked at one another for a while.
“Thanks”, old Bill said. He now had a ticket for “Honey Boy” instead of “Bright Star”. “If he comes in”, he was thinking as he walked out the door on his way to the Chinese restaurant in Nash Street, “If he comes in tomorrow, it'll just go to show.”
On the afternoon of the following day an old gentleman who worked for the Post and Telegraph as a linesman and who lived in a boarding house up a slight but long drag from the city was richer by £30. “Bright Star” ran a good race but at no stage stage he threaten the winners nor look as though he might win.
NEWS IN BRIEF
Forty-five student teachers from the Auckland Teachers' College stayed at the Waitetoko Pa this week. Under the leadership of Mr H. Lambert, lecturer in Maori studies, and Miss Nelson, lecturer in physical education, the party was introduced to the communal life of the Maori.
Waihi Pa and other Maori centres as well as homes were visited by the students. They saw young Maoris at lessons and at play at the Tauranga-Taupo Maori School and at the Tokaanu District High School. Their studies ended with visits to Kinleith and Wairakei.
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Three Maori men from Opotiki took up scholarships last May for a short general course of study at Massey College. These are the first of what is hoped will be annual scholarships sponsored by tribal executives in the Opotiki district. This year one of them, awarded to 19-year-old W. Maxwell, of Opotiki, has been given by the Eastern Bay of Plenty Young Farmers' Council. Those to T. Takao, 24 and F. Iopata, 30, have been recommended by the Waimana and Ruatoki tribal executives respectively.
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A committee of Maori lay people has been formed to advise the Bishop of Auckland, the Rt Rev. E. A. Gowing, on the work of the church among Maoris. This was announced by the Archdeacon of Waimate, the Ven. P. Tipene, at a conference of the clergy held at Kaitaia. The committee, the result of a request made of the Bishop at Te Kao recently, would probably comprise one representative from every parish.
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The newly appointed Maori Welfare Officer for Taranaki Mrs D. Walden, began duties last May. She is a school teacher and a well-known basketball selector in Taranaki, and is secretary both of the Wharepuni tribal committee and of the North Ngati Ruanui tribal executive.
In homes with larger families, there is a lot of work for the handyman. Wardrobes, bunks and many other things need to be made and many make them in their evenings and weekends. Te Ao Hou has therefore asked Mr K. Harrison, a teacher of woodwork in a Maori District High School, to describe some carpentry jobs that will interest Maori family men. As he also conducts evening classes for adults, he should know the problems the amateur meets with. We should be glad if readers would give us suggestions for future articles in this series.
A SIMPLE WARDROBE
This wardrobe can be made at a night class, if you live near enough to a High School, or it can be made at home, if you have the necessary tools.
These tools would be: Hand-saw, plane, rule, square, chisel, hammer, punch, screw-driver, bradawl.
There are no fancy joints, and everything can be nailed or screwed. The dimensions, as given on the plan, are: Height 6ft plus 2 ¾in. for the base, width 3ft over all, depth about 20in. or whatever width a machine dressed 12in. board plus a dressed 9in. board will make. The width can be increased up to 4ft of desired, so that an 8ft ×4ft ×⅛in. sheet of hardboard will cover the back.
Materials required (all timber dressed 4 sides):
Sides: 2 pieces of 12in. ×1in. ×6ft 2 ¾in. long.
2 pieces of 9in. ×1in. ×6ft 2 ¾in. long.
Floor, Top, and top shelf: 3 pieces 12in. ×1in. ×2ft 10 ⅜in.
3 pieces 9in. ×1in. ×2ft 10 ⅜in.
Bottom shelf: 1 piece 12in. ×1in. ×2ft 10 ⅜in.
Facing pieces on each side of door:
2 pieces 6in. ×1in. ×6ft.
Frame under floor: 1 piece 3in. ×2in. ×2ft. 10 ⅜in.
3 pieces 19 ¼in.
Door: 1 piece core-board 6ft ×2ft ×⅞in.
Coat-hanger rail: 1 piece ⅞in. dowelling, or piece of ½in. pipe, 2ft 10 ¼in.
Slotted supports for rail: 2 pieces 4in. ×1in. ×6in. with slot to fit rail.
Back: 1 sheet hardboard, 8ft ×4ft ×⅛in.
Hinges: 3 ornamental hinges, or three 3-in butt hinges.
Catch: One ½in. ball catch.
D. moulding to cover join in side boards: 2 pieces 6ft 2 ¾in. long.
2 dozen corrugated fasteners, to join boards together.
Nails: 1lb. 2in. brads. ½lb. 1 ¼in. brads.
METHOD OF CONSTRUCTION
Roughly cut off boards for floor, top, top shelf and bottom shelf, 1in. longer than the finished size. Straighten the edges of these with the planer, if necessary. Now pin these together with corrugated fasteners, using a 12in. and a 9in. board for each of the floor, top, and top shelf parts, and a 12in. board for the bottom shelf.
These can now be cut off square and accurately to their exact length, 2ft 10 ⅜in. The best way is to cut one and then use it for a pattern for the others. Mark the top side and the front edge of these pieces, so that they will not get turned round.
Now you can fix the 3in. ×2in. pieces under the floor to raise it off the house floor so that the wardrobe door will not interfere with mats when it is opened. Cut a piece of 2in. ×3in. the same length as the floor and nail it on the under-side, 2in. back from the edge. Cut three short pieces of 3in. ×2in. and fix at right angles to the front one, one flush with each end, and one in the middle.
Next cut the boards for the sides, two pieces of 12in. and two pieces of 9in., an inch longer than necessary. Straighten these with a plane, if necessary, and pin together with corrugated fasteners, using six on each join. Drive three from each side so that the made up side will lie flatter than it would if the corrugated fasteners were all driven from one side.
These sides can now be cut exactly to length, 6ft 2 ¾in. Cut a piece out of the front bottom corner of each end to fit the toe space under the flood board.
Before nailing the side boards to the floor board, and the top shelf, nail cleats to the inside of the side boards to rest the top and bottom shelves on. These could be 1 ½ in. ×½in. ×19in. long (two pieces) for the top shelf, and 2 pieces 1 ½in. ×½in. ×11in. for the bottom shelf. Fasten these on with 1 ¼in. nails at the distances shown on the plan. Also fix on the cleats for the coat rail.
Now nail together the boards you prepared. Cut
Now straighten with a plane, the two 6in. pieces which will go on either side of the door. Cut off at 6ft long. Nail them up temporarily and try the door for width and adjust the position of the 6in. facing pieces to suit the door, leaving the thickness of a penny clearance on either side.
Hang the door with hinges you have chosen. A ½in. ball catch makes a good simple fastener. To fit this, bore a ½in. hole in the edge of the door and drive the ball catch into it with a piece of wood and a hammer. Screw the striking plate for the ball catch into position. Buy a cheap knob for the door.
It now remains to cover the joints in the two sides with the D moulding, using 1 ¼in. nails. Punch all nails and give job a good rubbing with sandpaper.
If you want a varnish finish, give the job a coat of raw linseed oil. Next day apply a coat of white polish. The next day give the job a light sandpapering. Fill nail holes with putty, stained to suit colour of timber, and give another coat of white polish. Next day give another light sandpapering, and finish off with a coat of clear varnish. You will now, I hope, have a wardrobe to be proud of and that will hold a lot of clothes, hats and shoes.
If you want to paint it, give the job two undercoats and one gloss finishing coat, lightly sandpapering between each, puttying the nail holes with ordinary white putty.
If you would like a 4ft wardrobe instead of a 3ft OBe, add 12in. to the length of the floor, top, and shelves, and use 12in. boards for each side of the door instead of 6in. boards.
The approximate cost of the materials for the job would be:
£7 for a 4ft-wide job.
£6/10/- for a 3ft-wide job.
NEWS IN BRIEF
Pei Te Hurinui Jones' essay Puhiwahine, Maori Poetess has recently been republished in the form of a booklet. It contains all the text, the photographs and the tables that appeared in Te Ao Hou, from issues 28–34. It is good that this valuable work is now available as a book. The publisher is Mr Jones himself, P.O. Box 78, Taumarunui. He advises, somewhat apologetically, that because of high costs of production, he must charge 10/- per copy, but we feel sure students of Maori history and literature (and book collectors too) will easily forgive him.
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Top prize for the encouragement of education goes to the Ngati Rongo tribal committee, Ruatoki, chairman Rev. Wharetini Rangi, secretary R. N. Rangi.
Since the educational subsidy scheme was started, this committee gave educational aid to local children to the extent of £938. This includes the £ for £ subsidy granted by the Department of Maori Affairs. The money was spent to send secondary school pupils to boarding schools.
Second in the list of committees subsidizing education is the Raukawa executive (total over £500). Unfortunately few committees are seeking to get up to these figures, and it is to be hoped that committees will in future be more active rather than allow children of their tribe to have to leave school through lack of money, as happens particularly to sixth formers who have to board away from home. These young people have a claim on the help of their community as they have already scaled the school certificate hurdle.
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Many Maoris appeared to think that a running ear was a natural visitation, but it was often the precursor to deafness or impairment of hearing, said Dr J. F. Dawson, Hamilton medical officer of health, in an address to the South Auckland Education Board.
Constant treatment was required in these ear cases, he said. By agreement with general practitioners in certain areas, the Health Department was allowed to work in districts of Maori concentration where the complaint was rampant.
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WARFARE OF THE MAORI
A vast amount has been written on Maori warfare, and as the subject is so exciting, most New Zealanders know many tales about the old-time Maori warrior. In a book recently published by the Polynesian Society, Wellington, Dr A. P. Vayda, an American research scholar, has put together what the scientist really knows about ‘Maori Warfare’. The picture he presents is by no means less interesting than what was previously believed—indeed, the truth is usually more interesting than the products of bloodthirsty imagination—but it contains far fewer vast armies, epic battles and heroic self sacrifice; on the contrary it shows the Maori as very practical and cunning, and—most important of all—it shows that his love of war, and his love of life and his stomach were remarkably well balanced. Here follows a short summary of Dr Vayda's book.
Wars were a constant feature of Maori life; conflicts over land and insults of every description were causes of war. The defeated party in any way was under an obligation, if it wished to restore its mana, to avenge its humiliation, so war was never finished with. Even after European settlement wars continued; indeed they became greatly intensified through the introduction of muskets. The Maori people thus developed a very warlike spirit; also they developed to a high degree a method of warfare suitable to the couutry and to the weapons they possessed. Much has been written about the valour and chivalry of the Maori warrior, but we must be cautions not to believe too much of this, for the first aim of warfare is to win; it would have been impossible in the hard world of the ancient Maori to be like the chivalrous knights of romance and still survive.
Wooden spears used for thrusting and long and short clubs were the usual weapons of the Maori. The most commonly used type of spear was perfectly plain, some six to nine feet long, about an inch in diameter at the thickest part and tapering to a sharp point at the end. The long clubs
(pouwhenua, tewhatewha and taiaha) averaged some five feet in length, were made of tough wood in one piece and had both a blade for striking and a sharp point for stabbing. Dexterity and quick footwork were required for their use.
In addition to this long weapon, the Maori warrior usually carried a short club or patu—made of wood, bone or stone) stuck in his belt. They had flat blades whose ends were ground to a sharp edge extending down the sides. A strip of dogskin was passed through a hole bored near the butt to hold the weapon. It had to be used with great speed to be successful; usually the thrust was aimed at temple, neck or ribs; as the enemy was falling, he was despatched with a blow of the blunt butt or heel of the club. The Maori rarely used throwing spears, did not know bows and arrows, and did not use shields.
Fortresses (pa) as distinct from open unfortified villages, were usually built upon some hills, spurs or craggy headlands, or upon islands in lakes, swamps, or off the coast. The defence works were massive, consisting of ramparts and trenches, behind which stockades were erected. The defenders were stationed behind the stockades, sometimes on fighting stages, from which they could more easily throw spears and stones down upon the enemy. People only stayed at the pas when there was danger; otherwise they lived at their fishing, hunting and cultivating grounds.
Maori war parties sometimes avoided arduous journeys on foot by using war canoes which were made from the stoutest and largest trunks available, i.e. from the native New Zealand kauri pine or trunks of totara. On the average the canoes accommodated seventy people and were some seventy feet long. They were manned by a double row of warriors who plied their paddles in time to the chants and gestures of one or two leaders standing amidships. The canoes carried war parties not only along the coast but also up and down the larger rivers and across lakes. Sometimes they were carried for miles from one waterway to another. Much travelling was done over foot tracks only a few inches wide, over which the war parties walked in single file. When a war party was large, it therefore extended a long way along the track and was very liable to be ambushed. When there was much danger, scouts were used.
Feint attacks, feint retreats and ambuscades were the mainstay of Maori war tactics before the introduction of muskets. Stratagems based on these tactics were often very ingenious. Open fighting was rare.
HOKOWHITU A TU
The common fighting unit was the hapu. Small wars were fought by one hapu, but often several related hapu or an entire tribe joined in a large force. The fighting strength of a hapu was rarely more than a few hundred; sometimes it lay below 100. A common name for a small war party was hokowhitu-a-Tu, meaning the 140 men of Tu. Another common number mentioned by Maori authorities is 340. Probably these were typical of the strength of many war parties.
The usual leaders of war parties were high born chiefs. They were more leaders than commanders; using words, gestures and exemplary action to urge the men onward. The great influence of the chief is shown by the fact that very often an attacking force would withdraw even on the verge of victory because a leader was lost or wounded. Generally, discipline was not developed as in a modern army; there was for instance no definite sanction against desertion.
In the absence of effective discipline and any channelling of command, fighting units had to be kept together physically as well as in spirit. The small forces, comprising only one hapu, derived some advantages therefore from close kinship and small size. If men from several hapu joined in a common war, each hapu did as it pleased and remained under its own chief. Often, they could not get together in battle and large forces were beaten by quite small ones.
PREPARATIONS FOR WAR
Within the village, the question of peace or war was considered in the meeting house or on the marae. The assembled people, both men and women, devoted themselves to warlike speeches, songs and chants, thus working themselves up into a state of excitement and military fervour. The chief had to have his people's support from the start. There were a number of ceremonial ways of calling upon the aid of allies, such as offering a chief of another hapu a burnt cloak. A messenger would hand such a token over without a word, to be accepted or rejected; the claim for help was simply based on kinship. The use of such symbols rather than full explanations was at least partly prompted by the need for secrecy. If a hapu accepted the offering he was invited to a great feast always held before a war was started.
There was no specific military training except for the war dances and other demonstrations at the place of assembly. These demonstrations were scanned by expert old men or women for evidence of the warriors' fitness and enthusiasm. Mistakes in the movements were ill omens. Yet the young were educated for war. Boys were taught to wake at the slightest sound, to evade a falling blow. They used reeds and wooden rods to practise the spear thrusts. In adolescence real but padded weapons were substituted. Boys learned to wrestle, box, jump, run, throw stones, and climb. They also memorized ritual utterances used in war.
Surprise was an important element in Maori warfare. One could never know what enemy might turn up for an insult even several generations ago might make a hapu decide to take the warpath at any time together with what allies could be found. The Maori proverb said: ‘Birds
THE STRATEGY OF SURPRISE
The most common form of surprise attack was the ambuscade. In addition, more elaborate devices were popular. It was regarded as quite in accord with the rules of war to massacre a party of unsuspecting guests or hosts at a village gathering, or to appear close to a village in a guise of wood carriers, cultivators and fishermen, thus beguiling the enemy into false security. Any stratagem was considered fair and the unwary got what they deserved. It was an understood thing that war could at any time break out. Any tribe that felt it had suffered an injury at the hands of another tribe, no matter how long before, might suddenly decide that the time for revenge had come. In these circumstances every village had its potential enemies; justification could always be found to attack it. Even if after a raid a peace was concluded, this was not permanently binding and hostilities could always recur unless the peace was sealed with a chiefly intermarriage, linking the former enemies in close kinship.
The favourite hour for attack was dawn. During the night the war party could approach unobserved and so make sure of surprising the enemy. Mist and rain were considered propitious. It was customary to kill any man who crossed the path of a war party. Scouts would be sent ahead of the main force to find out whether the enemy was expecting an attack; often, if the enemy was found prepared, the attack was postponed.
The Maori pa was normally protected by sentries. While they were on duty they sang watch songs and beat wooden gongs (pahau). If these gongs suddenly became silent that was a sign of trouble. In addition people were sometimes placed on lookout posts which commanded a wide view. When they saw an enemy approaching they could give warning. However, from the published accounts one gets the impression that the Maoris were not very systematic and careful about lookout duties, nor was there any grave punishment for a sleepy sentry.
If the people of a pa received intelligence of an approaching war party, they would often plan a counter-surprise by sending a detachment to sit in ambush and attack the enemy from flank or rear.
THE CONDUCT OF BATTLES
Before the introduction of the muskets, pitched battles were probably not very common. When they did occur, both parties would often break into a fierce war dance to excite the warriors and give them the courage to face death.
Single combat between the opposing chiefs was not uncommon. The result of such contests decided the battle for when the chief of a war party fell, the rest would usually retreat. In these single combats the champion warriors were motivated by a desire for fame, for stories about them were remembered after many generations. The rules of chivalry did not apply to such contests; the important thing was to see that the adversary was killed by whatever means were offering.
Cannibalism was the regular practice in Maori wars. Human flesh was an important part of the food supply of war parties. The bodies were cut up with obsidian flakes and then cooked on heated stones which were laid in pits in the ground. Sometimes, flesh was kept as a supply for the journey. Such meat would first be boned, then dried and packed in flax baskets; alternatively, it was potted in fat in gourds. Prisoners were sometimes taken alive, tied together with flax ropes and kept on the hoof for future slaughter and use.
It was really only in war that cannibalism was a regular occurrence. In peace, human flesh was rarely eaten, and only on very special occasions such as a famine or the visit of a very prominent visitors.
If the attackers failed to surprise an enemy, they often withdrew. It was only rarely that an attempt was made to take a pa by storm; this was very difficult and seldom successfully managed. Occasionally a pa might be taken by sapping, by
pulling down stockades or by setting fire to them. At times, a siege was attempted. There is one siege on record that lasted for seven months. This was exceptional; it was very hard for Maori war parties to keep large forces together for any length of time, both because of the lack of any formal discipline and because of the difficulties of food supply. Apart from the little food that might be obtained from marauding, the only source of food was the human one within the stockades.
Mortality in Maori wars must have been considerable in spite of the small forces usually engaged. No quarter was given in battle so that life could only be saved by flight, but it was during flight that the pursuers killed most of their enemies. Not many war parties were completely exterminated but more than a few lost a very large percentage of their members. Most captives were killed and eaten; some—especially women and children—were enslaved. But often these also were eaten.
Some of the bones of the slain were saved, as further indignity, for making flutes, heads of bird spears, fish hooks, rings for captive parrots, pins and needles. Heads were sometimes thrown on a heap in a grisly ball game, occasionally they were impaled on the stockades of a pa. Heads of both friend or enemy, if belonging to great chiefs, were at times taken home and preserved.
The loot of war included anything of value found in the pa. People used to keep some of their heirlooms constantly in hiding places, so that no enemy might possess them; fossickers keep on finding such treasures even today.
Usually a war party hastily withdrew home after their quick victory; sometimes a succession of victories against a number of hapu would enable a group to take over the enemy's land. This would happen particularly where a piece of land was very desirable. The remnant of the earlier occupiers were then most probably driven to forest areas till then uncultivated, so that conquest played its part in inducing the defeated to settle and exploit the country.
ROLE OF WAR IN MAORI LIFE
Warfare, for all its horror, fulfilled some necessary functions in Maori society. As we have just seen, it was through wars that the tribes were spread out and occupied the large areas of land needed to provide sustenance. Furthermore, in the absence of regular forms of public justice in the relations between Maori communities, war was advantageous to redress wrongs and deter offenders. It discouraged thefts and murders of members of other hapu. War also strengthened the bonds of unity between the participating hapu.
Before the musket was introduced and Maori society became thorough disorganized through the early impact of European settlement, war was not allowed to interfere seriously with economic life, that is, the ensuring of the food supply. There was mostly a set season for warfare and this fell from November when the crops had been planted until early autumn when they had to be harvested. That period might be dedicated to the war-god Tu, but the rest of the year was usually under the tutelage of Rongo, the god of agriculture and the pleasures of peace. This deity, although lacking Tu's ferocity, was equally imperious, for without food and the hard work of procuring it, man would starve.
THE EDUCATION HANDICAP
MAORI YOUTH, by David P. Ausubel, Price Milburn, Wellington, 1961, 18/-.
This book by Professor Ausubel is the result of eleven months' field work in New Zealand in 1957–58 during the tenure of a Fulbright research grant. Dr Ausubel sets out to examine the aspirations of comparable groups of Maori and Pakeha adolescents in both an urban and rural environment.
There is an interesting table of I.Q.s in the book which gives point to the Department of Maori Affairs campaign to encourage Maoris to move from rural areas to towns and cities. This table shows:
|Number of Pupils|
|Form Age||Urban Sample||Rural Sample|
The table indicates that Maori children brought up in an urban environment, where living conditions are usually of a higher standard, make much better scores than Maori children from a rural
environment. It is often tacitly assumed in New Zealand that Maoris have a level of intelligence inferior to Europeans while many Americans make a similar assumption about the intelligence of Negroes. Amram Scheinfeld notes in his book, “You and Heredity”—“in any given section of the country the I.Q. average of Negroes are considerably lower than of whites. But also, in any given section, the environment of Negroes are relatively inferior. However, where the conditions for Negroes are better, their I.Q.s are higher (by at least seven points for those living in New York as compared with their relatives in the South). And where conditions for Negroes are good, their I.Q.s may average even higher than those of whites living where conditions are bad …”
We may safely assume that, as the living conditions of Maoris improve, the scores made by Maori children in intelligence tests will also improve, till the stage is reached where Maori children make the same scores as European children.
Dr Ausubel's investigations show that while the educational and vocational aspirations of Maori and Pakeha secondary school pupils are very much the same, the Maori child has much less chance of realising his aspirations. Dr Ausubel identifies various factors which stand in the way of Maori youths realising their aspirations. These are:
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The fact that Maori parents are less capable than their Pakeha counterparts of helping their children with appropriate vocational guidance.
Lack of communication between Maori parents and children.
A laissez-faire attitude towards their children's vocational careers.
Maori parents do not set a very good example in occupational matters.
Ambivalence about children leaving home.
Dr Ausubel sees racial prejudice and discrimination as the greatest problem facing New Zealand in integrating the Maori into New Zealand society. On the subject of vocational inspirations he writes: “Of all the factors impeding the implementation of Maori vocational inspirations, the problem of colour prejudice and discrimination is the most serious and potentially the most dangerous”. While it is true that there are employers who show racial prejudice it can be stated that the Department of Maori Affairs has never found any difficulty in placing any Maori youth in a position appropriate to his or her educational qualifications.
This theme of colour prejudice and racial discrimination runs right through the book. Dr Ausubel's verdict is that the state of race relations in New Zealand is bad and is getting worse. This verdict is so much opposed to most New Zealanders' idea of themselves that it is liable to be rejected out of hand as a distorted caricature. Before we reject Dr Ausubel's assessment, we should pause to search our hearts to be sure that there is not a substantial element of truth in what he says.
TE WHARE KURA
The third booklet in the series of Te Whare Kura has been issued to post-primary schools teaching the Maori language.
The new booklet is Nga Iwi o te Motu, traditional tales from the tribes. The stories were collected and adapted by the Advisory Committee of the Department of Education on the teaching of the Maori language, and they are delightfully illustrated by Ralph Hotere.
Another booklet of traditional Maori tales will be published this year.
Next year it is proposed to publish two more booklets. One will contain simple stories in language suitable for pupils beginning the study of the Maori language.
The Editor of The Whare Kura would like teachers and Maori scholars to send him stories he could use in his booklets, or if they have material he could use for stories, this too. would be welcome.
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Neville Taiaroa, an apprentice motor mechanic, has been presented with the Maori Affairs Department Award for the top Maori apprentice in the Wanganui district.
He was given the award during the Commonwealth Technical Training Week.
Neville, who comes from Ratana Pa, began his apprenticeship in 1957. In 1958 he scored 84 percent, in his first qualifying examination, and the next year 66 per cent. in his second qualifying examination. Last year, he passed the written section for his Trade Certificate.
The Maori Affairs Department Award was inaugurated this year. It will be presented every year to the top Maori apprentice in the district.
The third annual competition for the best kept Maori home in the Mangonui County has recently been held and prizes awarded. Instead of cash prizes, as were awarded in previous years, the judges agreed that something more permanent should be given so that the winners could prove their success and for future display. Two china cabinets, one for first place valued at £25, and the other for second place, valued at £15, were given by Mr R. D. West, a Kaitaia businessman, who also gave ten consolation prizes of wire fruit baskets valued at approximately £1.
The prize winners were:
First Prize: Mrs Paul Dudley, Pamapuria.
Second Prize: Mrs B. Henare, Whangape.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
Maori professional heavyweight wrestler Keith Meretana, of Wairoa, at present campaigning in the United States, has vacated his New Zealand title.
Meretana says he has forfeited the title because he is committed to campaigns in New York and Washington, and will be unable to make any defences this season. “There are two or three New Zealand boys who, I'm sure, would like a crack at the title, so I'm relinquishing it,” he wrote.
FARM WORK IN SPRING
By now once again all your cows should be calved down and you will have saved all your heifer calves from your best milkers. It is about these calves that I want to talk to you this month. So often do I see poorly reared calves on our Maori farms that I wonder why they do not send them all off in the bobby calf lorry and not bother to take the trouble to try and rear them at all. These heifer calves which you saved are to be your future herd, so that is why it is so necessary to give them the best possible treatment. Firstly, in selecting calves for your herd replacements, they should be daughters of your high producing cows. Providing of course that they are sturdy when born, the calves from old cows which have produced consistently should always be kept, but there is no reason why the calves of well bred and well grown heifers should not be kept also. Care should be taken not to keep the heifer twin of a bull calf, but twin heifers can be kept with safety, provided of course that they are not too small and also providing that they are born early in the season. Now you have brought these calves through their infant stage and they should be starting to eat grass, so this is the critical period. The best feed for young calves is nice fresh pasture, and this can be provided by grazing them ahead of the cows in the cow paddocks. A little good quality hay placed in easily accessible places may be necessary to supplement the sappy spring growth. At the first sign of unthriftiness, calves should be drenched with phenothiazine. Give them a full dose as recommended on the label. Unthriftiness is soon detected by the dullness of the eyes and roughness of the coats, but it is useless to drench calves that are not receiving sufficient good feed. Calves sucking each other is a bad habit that should be broken off as soon as it is detected. To part the suckers may not always be possible so, as an alternative, a good plan is to buy a bull ring and insert it in the nose of the sucking calf. It is simple to pierce a hole in the thin skin between the nostrils. Ringworm in calves is sometimes troublesome, especially if the calves have not been well cared for. Before any remedy is applied, the roughness of the ringworm should be removed by rubbing a mixture of soap and lard on the bare parts. The scabs can then be easily removed on the following day by scraping of the scaly parts. The bare patches can then be treated with an ointment prepared for this purpose usually obtainable from most stock firms. As ringworm can be transmitted from the animals to human beings it is a wise precaution to wear rubber gloves when treating an animal with this disease. If gloves are not available, the hands and arms should be thoroughly washed in disinfectant immediately after attending to animals.By now once again all your cows should be calved down and you will have saved all your heifer calves from your best milkers. It is about these calves that I want to talk to you this month. So often do I see poorly reared calves on our Maori farms that I wonder why they do not send them all off in the bobby calf lorry and not bother to take the trouble to try and rear them at all. These heifer calves which you saved are to be your future herd, so that is why it is so necessary to give them the best possible treatment. Firstly, in selecting calves for your herd replacements, they should be daughters of your high producing cows. Providing of course that they are sturdy when born, the calves from old cows which have produced consistently should always be kept, but there is no reason why the calves of well bred and well grown heifers should not be kept also. Care should be taken not to keep the heifer twin of a bull calf, but twin heifers can be kept with safety, provided of course that they are not too small and also providing that they are born early in the season. Now you have brought these calves through their infant stage and they should be starting to eat grass, so this is the critical period. The best feed for young calves is nice fresh pasture, and this can be provided by grazing them ahead of the cows in the cow paddocks. A little good quality hay placed in easily accessible places may be necessary to supplement the sappy spring growth. At the first sign of unthriftiness, calves should be drenched with phenothiazine. Give them a full dose as recommended on the label. Unthriftiness is soon detected by the dullness of the eyes and roughness of the coats, but it is useless to drench calves that are not receiving sufficient good feed. Calves sucking each other is a bad habit that should be broken off as soon as it is detected. To part the suckers may not always be possible so, as an alternative, a good plan is to buy a bull ring and insert it in the nose of the sucking calf. It is simple to pierce a hole in the thin skin between the nostrils. Ringworm in calves is sometimes troublesome, especially if the calves have not been well cared for. Before any remedy is applied, the roughness of the ringworm should be removed by rubbing a mixture of soap and lard on the bare parts. The scabs can then be easily removed on the following day by scraping of the scaly parts. The bare patches can then be treated with an ointment prepared for this purpose usually obtainable from most stock firms. As ringworm can be transmitted from the animals to human beings it is a wise precaution to wear rubber gloves when treating an animal with this disease. If gloves are not available, the hands and arms should be thoroughly washed in disinfectant immediately after attending to animals.
ON THE SHEEP FARM
Sheep farmers will have now passed through the busy time of lambing and only the late lambs have yet to come along. Just how hard this busy time has been for the farmer depends on the manner in which he had prepared for this important period. The early lambs will now have been docked and just what care had been taken in this very important operation will have an effect on the number of lambs which have been lost through insufficient care. It has been calculated that some 10 to 15 per cent. of all lambs born, die before weaning time and with care half of this number could be saved. Rough treatment at docking time accounts for many deaths and it does not seem to matter whether the rubber rings or the knife are used during this operation. Milk fever in the ewes brought about by sudden changes in feed often renders lambs motherless and the orphans either die or grow up into what we call culls.
Scabby mouth is a disease which often attacks a new crop of lambs, so if there is any fear of this, all lambs should be vaccinated. This is done most conveniently at docking time when the lambs are being marked. This vaccine is obtainable from most stock firms and it gives very good protection if used correctly. Ewes should also be vaccinated at the same time as their lambs, but only if there is good reason for the farmer to suspect that this disease may attack them too.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
One of the best known Maoris in the Wanganui district, Mr Tenga Takarangi, has retired from the Department of Maori Affairs. He is 63 years of age.
Mr Takarangi joined the staff of the Maori Affairs Department in 1942.
He has had a colourful sporting career. He was a crack rugby and tennis player, a skilled rower and a proficient athlete.
Mr Takarangi is chairman of the Putiki County Town Committee and is assistant secretary of the N.Z. Maori Golf Association.
THE HOME GARDEN
BLACK ROT IN KUMARA
Some ten years ago, the Maori people in North Auckland and the Coastal Strip of the Eastern Sector of the North Island produced crops of kumara which not only formed part of their diet but economically constituted a fairly high percentage of their income. The produce was distributed throughout the North Island and on numerous occasions exported to South Island main centres.
Today it could be confidently stated that owing to the ravages of Black Rot, production by the Maori people has declined rapidly. With this in mind it is proposed to emphasise the need by growers to take more care in the selection of seed for propagational purposes and a strong recommendation that rotational cropping be observed, especially where there is any suspicion that the disease may be present.
Black Rot may occur if present in the soil, on any of the underground parts of the plant. On the kumara the disease produces dark to nearly black somewhat sunken, more or less circular spots on the surface.
In the early stages these spots are small and nearly round, but under favourable climatic conditions they enlarge until frequently nearly the whole kumara is involved. Often in the centre of the spots will be seen more or less circular areas, from ¼in to ½in in diameter in which may be found fruiting bodies of the fungus. The surface of the infected spots has a somewhat metallic lustre and the tissue just beneath the infection is usually a greenish colour.
On the plants the infection begins as small black spots which gradually enlarge until the whole of the stem is rotted off and on numerous occasions it extends up the stem to the surface of the soil. This is often noticed during the early stages from two to three weeks after planting has been completed.
It is very important to remember that if Black Rot kumaras are used for seed the plants derived from the parent tuber will in all probability be infected. Another very important point to note is that Black Rot infected kumaras, when cooked, have a very disagreeable taste and a peculiar odour is present when cooking, therefore it is not in the interest of the growers to offer for sale such produce, as the effect on the market is depressing together with the fact that the disease is being transferred from one area to the other.
It is reliably stated that all varieties of kumara are subject to this trouble and methods of control would be similar. The Department of Agriculture have in conjunction with the Department of Scientific Research prepared a very comprehensive leaflet which is available on application to the Department of Agriculture, and it is suggested that any Maori grower who is concerned or suspicious that his crops may be infected should make application to the nearest office of that department, where he will be given every assistance and co-operation by field officers, who are at present keen in their desire to assist if possible to eradicate Black Rot in kumaras.
They suggest that selected tubers should be dipped in 50% Dichlone (Phygon XL) at 11b to 100 gallons of water before storing in clean boxes which have been dipped or thoroughly sprayed with commercial formalin at 1 gallon to 49 gallons of water.
In the case of the Maori pits or store houses which are common in the Tauranga coastal area, the above preparation would still apply. The pits in this case should be thoroughly sprayed before storage takes place. When propagating beds are being prepared for planting all introduced material, including stable manure, straw, hay, soil or sand should be drenched with Phygon XL at 11b to 100 gallons of water.
It is sincerely recommended that all Maori growers who have the opportunity to read the foregoing notes endeavour to exercise the very necessary control measures in the interest of their people who have for many, many years been so successful in producing such an economical crop, which has over the years brought about stability in various remote Maori communal areas.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
The National Art Fellowship, tenable for two years and valued at £500 a year, has been awarded to Mr Raukura Hotere, of Hokianga. He will study basic design in the Central School, London, under the fellowship before returning to New Zealand.
Mr Hotere, who is of the Rarawa tribe, living at Hokianga, with close affiliations to Ngapuhi, is at present engaged as an art specialist by the Department of Education at Auckland. An article on his work will be published next issue.
His entry for the fellowship, one of 15 received, was a series of paintings and drawings.
WE SAW COMMUNIST CHINA
Competing in the 26th World Table Tennis Championships, together with the trip to Peking in Communist China, was an exhilarating experience for members of the New Zealand table tennis team.
The tournament was held in the magnificent new Peking Workers' Stadium.
Members of the New Zealand party were Miss Neti Davis, Miss Norma Attwood, Mrs Joan Green, Garry Frew (Whangarei), Murray Dunn (Wellington), Alan Tomlinson (Auckland), Bryan Foster (Dunedin) with Mr Ken Wilkinson (Wellington) manager.
The whole trip lasted for one month—the team leaving New Zealand on 24 March and returning on 24 April.
Meeting up with the Australian side in Sydney the New Zealanders travelled with them until they parted on different flights at Singapore on the return journey.
In Peking three other New Zealanders attended the world championships. They were Mr F. H. G. Johnstone of Christchurch, the president of the NZTTA, Miss Barbara Packwood and Mrs G. Buckler, both of Auckland.
Miss Attwood at 14 years of age was probably the youngest-ever New Zealand representative. She is a fourth form pupil at the Whangarei Girls' High School. Miss Davis was also a junior at the time of selection despite the fact that she was the reigning New Zealand champion. Mrs Green captained the women's team, and Murray Dunn the men's team. The party left Whenuapai Airport by TEAL Electra on 24 March, 1961, and arrived in Sydney about three hours later. That same evening the group of Australians and New Zealanders boarded another Electra which took them to Manila in the Philippine Islands.
On 26 March another Electra took the combined Australian and New Zealand party to Hong Kong the flight lasting about 2 ½ hours. In Hong
WALKING ACROSS THE BRIDGE
Chinese friends, who operated a tailoring business, guided the New Zealanders around the shops in both Hong Kong (Victoria Island) and Kowloon on the mainland. They also drove them to all of the scenic spots including the Tiger Balm gardens, the floating restaurants at Aberdeen (where the players had sampan rides as well as magnificent meals) and the New Territories district. This was a farming community where the main occupation seemed to be rice growing. It was from this area that the border of the Red China could be seen. Several nights clubs were also visited in Hong Kong. Most of the hotels had their own floor shows.
By the time the party left Hong Kong by train on 31 March (Good Friday), all the players were equipped with excellent cameras. The trip from Kowloon Station to the border at Lowu took only about an hour. Here the party had to walk across a bridge under the eyes of armed Communist guards dressed in khaki uniforms with red tunics. There was a meal at the reception centre on the other side of the border where officials of the Chinese Table Tennis Association met the teams. Thousands of refugees could be seen queueing up on the Red China side of the border. After the meal the players boarded another train and travelled on to Canton in company with the officials.
Canton was the most depressing place that any of the New Zealanders had ever seen—men and women all dressed alike dragging huge carts around the street were common sights. There were few cars but many bicycles. We had a practice while at Canton but were far from impressed with this big city (population 3 million), and were not sorry when we took off by plane for Peking at 7 a.m. the next day. The journey to Peking was an uncomfortable one in a bumpy plane. There were three stops en route and we eventually arrived in the Communist capital at 4.30 p.m. A big crowd of press reporters, photographers and local officials were at the airport.
SPORT BALLET AND
That night we joined many other teams in the Hsin Chiao Hotel, Peking, which was to be our home for the duration of the world championships from 4 April to 15 April. The New Zealand men played matches against Japan, England. North Korea, Cuba, Singapore, Russia, Brazil and Yugoslavia beating only Cuba (5–0) but also doing well against England and Brazil. The women played Japan, England, North Vietnam, Sweden, Russia and Ghana. They beat both North Vietnam and Ghana. During the course of the championships the players were taken on many sight-seeing tours—one to the Great Wall of China—and were looked after like kings and queens.
Following the teams matches, the players took part in the individual events at the championships which were won by Chinese players. Terrific crowds attended the table tennis sessions. There were capacity crowds of 15,000 all the time, Several times all of the teams were entertained at magnificent banquets, some of which were attended by the Premier, Chou En Lai, and they were also taken to a remarkable ballet performance. Two of the most unforgettable experiences were the colourful opening ceremony where 35 countries were represented, and the prize-giving function.
On 15 April we started on the journey home by flying from Peking to Canton. Again it was a most uncomfortable trip. From the air the tremendous amount of cultivation was apparent because of the intricate pattern of fields that could be seen. The stop over in Canton was again made at the Au Chin Hotel and the party left by train for the border the following morning. Once more we went through the “walking across the border” performance and carried on from Lowu to Kowloon by train.
Immediately the difference was apparent. People in Hong Kong were much happier and brighter than those in Red China.
END OF WHIRLWIND TOUR
We spent another whirlwind shopping day in Hong Kong before flying to Bangkok by Electra (a two and a half hour journey) on 17 April. We stayed in the Thailand capital, where it was very hot, for three days and took part in the Thailand international tournament with Australian, Thailand and South Vietnam players. Sight-seeing here fully occupied everyone, a highlight being a trip around the canals during which time we saw the famous floating market.
The Boeing touched down at Sydney at about 1 p.m. We stayed overnight and carried on to New Zealand on 24th April. The four Northlanders and Alan Tomlinson flew direct to Auckland from Sydney while the others went straight to Wellington.
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AND SCHOOLS FOR
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Queen Street, Hamilton, Whangarei, Rotorua, Mt. Roskill, New Lynn, Panmure, Onehunga, Takapuna, Otahuhu, Papakura, Balmoral, Henderson and Huntly.
CROSSWORD PUZZLE NO. 34
|11.||Provisions for a journey.|
|13.||Of, from ancient times.|
|18.||Tribe around Rotorua.|
|24.||Maori poetess, frequently in Te Ao Hou.|
|29.||Go wrong; Impatient, Notornis.|
|31.||Turn; Begin to.|
|55.||int. expressing surprise.|
|1.||Cut hair, shear.|
|2.||Circle, go around.|
|3.||Is not so?|
|5.||Stern of a canoe.|
|6.||Belonging to; From.|
|10.||Dry land; Shore.|
|17.||Mainland as opposed to an island.|
|23.||Current; He, she.|
|28.||Avenged, paid for.|
|41.||Bow the head; Stoop.|
GIRLS COME TO THE CITY, Continued from page 31
Mr White encourages the girls to take a practical interest in dressmaking. Some stay after work to make their own dresses, the firm hopes to find some girls who will go to technical college to learn designing—at the company's expense. It is a surprise to Mr White that with so much natural taste, Maori girls do not go in for dress designing as a profession. He keeps on looking for someone with this ambition.
Shortly after the girls' arrival the firm formed the SOMA Softball team, which in the first year of its existence won the Wellington Junior A Grade Championship. There are also plans for the girls joining a hockey team.
Most of them put money regularly into a savings bank; last Christmas they had saved enough for their trip home, complete with presents.
The girls come to work regularly, only one has left, only one has, for a short time given some slight trouble in the hostel where she lived. In this case some help from Maori Welfare was necessary, also a sympathetic Maori woman was found to look after the girl for a while.
HOW CAN MIGRATION SUCCEED?
Summing up, one is struck with the smooth way this small group of girls were able to settle into the city. The fatherly help of the firm, the support of Mrs Manuel were sufficient to overcome, in these cases, the various difficulties of Maori youth one hears so much about. The simple remedy was to spend a little time meeting the essential needs of the young migrant.
At the same time, it is clear that such help was very much needed. The accommodation problem was too tough for the girls to handle really well independently. All the little gestures made in the first few days in the city were necessary to give the girls enough security to settle in well. Furthermore little things did keep on happening which, with the guidance they had, were quickly remedied but they could easily have become big things.
Most young Maori people have the ability, by and large, to succeed in the city. But many can succeed only with a little help.
iti te kopara
ka hinga te
Though the grub is small it fells the mighty Kahikatea.
Our point is simple. Don't underestimate smallness. Take money for instance. Small weekly savings snowball into sizeable amounts quickly. But like the grub they must be persistently regular. Your thrift Club is the sure, regular way to save. Each week a fixed amount is deducted from your pay—saving becomes automatic and painless! Earns you interest too. Join the thrift Club where you work and WATCH YOUR SAVINGS GROW!
P.O.S.B. THRIFT CLUB Issued by the Post Office Savings Bank.
Still Popular after
How Rotorua Club Made First
Recordings of Maori Music
An increasingly large number of Maori records have appeared over the past two years bringing a surge of interest in Maori music by ordinary Pakeha New Zealanders as well as overseas visitors. However, this availability of recorded Maori music is nothing new, for the first large scale recordings of Maori songs in this country were made as long ago as 1930 by the Columbia Graphophone Company Pty. Ltd. Today when many records and artists enjoy only a very brief period of popularity it is worth noting that these early Columbia discs, after 30 years, are still selling well and have recently been re-released collected together in three long playing recordings.
The recordings were of a group known as the Rotorua Maori Choir. A former musical director of the Columbia Graphophone Company, Mr Gil Dech, is now a music teacher in DUNEDIN and conducts the 4YA studio orchestra. Mr Dech was musical director of this pioneer Maori recording venture. Mr Dech is a Londoner and his first acquaintance with New Zealand music was in 1927 when he accompanied on the piano and conducted an orchestra for a series of recordings made in Sydney by Ernest McKinley. McKinley was a Scottish tenor who had made a study of Maori music and collected together a number of tunes and published them in an album.
THE AIM WAS PERFECTION
The Rotorua Maori Choir had already been in existence for some time when in 1929 a Rotorua Solicitor, Mr Simpson, who was in charge of the Choir's affairs, suggested to Mr Arthur Eady, head of a well known Auckland music publishing firm, that some recordings be taken of this Choir. Mr Eady passed the suggestion on to the Columbia Company and on behalf of the Choir a contract was signed by three of its members—Geoffrey Rogers, Tame Petane and Rotohiko Haupapa (better known as the first carving instructor at the Rotorua School of Arts and Crafts). A recording expedition headed by the late Mr W. A. Donner, Managing Director of the Columbia Graphophone Company, was sent over to New Zealand in 1930 with Mr Reg. Southey as recording engineer and a mass of equipment to take the recordings.
It was three months before the job was finished. The Columbia Company seems to have spared no effort and the expense of keeping their musical director and a technical staff in Rotorua for so long must have been considerable even in those more leisured days. This was not Mr Dech's first visit to New Zealand—he had toured some years before with a J. C. Williamson Company—but this was his first really close acquaintance with Maori music and, as he frankly admits, he had to start off by sitting down and learning the songs by listening to them over and over again. Then came the job of welding this large group into a polished choir for recording purposes.
Mr Dech recalls somewhat ruefully the difficulties which plagued him. The first and biggest was trying to get everyone to rehearsal at the same time. Then order had to be established and everyone got working. He soon found that the most effective method of enticing singers along was by promising to play the piano to them after rehearsal. More than once he had to go around Rotorua in his old car dragging choir members out of mud pools with a mixture of threats and cajoling and take them to rehearsals. Of course all the choir had their regular jobs during the day and rehearsal was carried out at night. Some of the recordings were made after gruelling sessions lasting until two o'clock in the morning.
MAKING THE DISCS
The choir worked in the historic Tinohopu meeting house at Ohinemutu, the principal village of the tribes of Te Arawa. Most of the choir were from Ngati Whakaue, one of the tribes of the Arawa confederation. The principal soloists were Rotohiko Haupapa (bass baritone), Te Mauri Meihana (soprano), Mere Amohau (contralto) and Tiawha Ratete (tenor). Inside the meeting house the women hung shawls and carpets from the roof and walls to deaden the echo. A sort of control room for the complicated recording equipment was set up in the porch of the meeting house. Mr Reg. Southey, the recording engineer, is now Director of the Recording Division of E.M.I., the leading firm in the field in Australia. He recalls “it was rather a unique experience. It was certainly the first time that any electric recordings of this nature had been made in New Zealand—and probably elsewhere.” The actual recording was done straight onto wax impressions which were then sent back to Australia where the master discs were made out of copper. The wax impressions were quite expensive and if a mistake was made whilst recording was actually in progress
there was no way of erasing it as there is with today's tape recordings. A mistake meant scrapping the wax impression and using another. At least two masters of each item were secured.
Wherever possible Gil Dech let the choir harmonise naturally but sometimes everyone would sing in unison and then he had to write parts and teach them to the various singers. He conducted the choir in all their recordings. At first they were amused at the Pakeha standing up in front of them waving his arms about. The great difficulty was to get everyone to take it seriously and give their undivided attention to the conductor. After all, what did it matter if someone in the back row went on just a little longer at the end of a line? Gradually however, one tune would be polished up and recorded and then another and so on.
The end product was over thirty Maori folk songs, love tunes, farewell and welcome songs. Originally they were released on the old shellac ten inch 78 rpm discs. Now they have been retaped from the master discs and all except a few of the tunes are included in three long playing records. These recordings seem just as popular today as when they first came on the market. The original Rotorua Maori Choir has of course long since been disbanded but through its records it is still enjoying public recognition over a quarter of a century after its heyday.
GIFT OF TENE WAITERE'S CARVINGS
Maori carvings have been presented to the Taupo Borough Council for the erection of a Maori house in Taupo. The gift was part of the will of the late Mrs Lucy Rongoekumi Reid. The carvings were the work of the late Tene Waitere, an uncle of Mrs Reid, who died in 1931 at the age of 77.
Tene Waitere was survivor of the Tarawera eruption of 1886, after which he lived at Rotorua. His work is a notable example of Arawa carving
When the late King George V, as Duke of York, visited Rotorua, he was presented with one of Tene Waitere's most notable carvings, a model of the Arawa canoe. When the Duke of Windsor, as Prince of Wales, visited Rotorua, he was presented with a carved flag pole made by Waitere. He was also responsible for the carved model pataka presented during the visit of the late King George VI and the Queen Mother, in 1926.
Other works are: the carved gateway over the model pa at Whakarewarewa, the well-known carved house there, the carved gateway at the entrance of the Taupo sports ground. The carvings now donated to the Borough Council were his last major work.
THE FINEST MAORI SINGING ON RECORD
MARANGA MAORI CLUB
A magnificent new Kiwi long playing record presents a selection of music sung unaccompanied by the Maranga Maori Club of Auckland.
The choir of 40 voices sings these fine works composed by Arapeta Awatere:
The Lord's Prayer
Maranga: Anthem No. 1
Maranga: Anthem No. 2
And a selection of Action Songs, hymns and other music.
KIWI 12 inch L.P. No. LC-3 Price 39/6
These other leading Maori choirs are also available on KIWI:
Putiki Maori Club
Concert Party, 2nd Battalion in Malaya
Waihirere Maori Club
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