Te Ao Hou
the maori magazine
the Department of Maori Affairs December, 1964
This attractive design featuring wood pigeons is by Mr Colin Simon, of Wellington.
A winning entry in the recent design contest held by Crown Lynn Potteries Ltd in association with TEAL, the design is intended to be used on a plate (the matching cup and saucer, not shown here, carry a similar motif).
His design, an outstandingly successful modern interpretation of kowhaiwhai, won Mr Simon a return jet trip to the United States, together with £100 spending money.
published quarterly by the Department of Maori Affairs and sponsored by the Maori Purposes Fund Board.
printed by Pegasus Press Ltd.
n.z. subscriptions: One year 7/6 (four issues), three years £1. Rate for schools: 4/- per year (minimum five subscriptions). From all offices of the Maori Affairs Department and from the editor.
editorial address: Box 2390, Wellington, New Zealand.
overseas subscriptions: England and other countries with sterling currency: one year 10s, three years £1 5s. Australia: one year A13s 6d, three years £A1 12s. U.S.A., Hawaii and Canada: one year $1.50, three years $3.50. Other countries: the local equivalent of sterling rates.
back issues (N.Z. rates). Issue nos. 18–23, 25, and 27–47 are available at 2/6 each. A very few copies of issue nos. 11, 13, 16 and 24 are still available at 5/- each. Other issues are now out of print. (Overseas rates for back issues are available on request).
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 te tatou pukapuka mo nga korero Maori.
Statements in signed articles in Te Ao Hou are the responsibility only of the writers concerned.
the minister of maori affairs: The Hon. J. R. Hanan.
the secretary for maori affairs: J. M. McEwen.
editor: Margaret Orbell.
associate editor (Maori text): E. B. Ranapia.
Te Ao Hou
THE MAORI MAGAZINE
|Lest We Forget, Nick Karaitiana||7|
|The Positive Approach, Kathleen Mayson||11|
|The Burial Cave, Valerie Fox||14|
|Taku Kainga, Valerie Fox||14|
|Pinepine te Kura (‘Little Tiny Treasure’)||20|
|The Very Rev. J. G. Laughton||4|
|A Trip to Tonga, Eve Magee||5|
|Mr Frank Winter||17|
|Kia U, Kia Mau Ki To Maoritanga, Sam Karetu||18|
|The Oral Literature of the Polynesians, Bruce Biggs||23|
|A Visit to St Joseph's Maori Girls' College||26|
|A Forgotten Treasure||28|
|Transcriptions of Authentic Maori Chant: part two, Mervyn McLean||35|
|Meeting Maoris In Other Lands, Alan Armstrong||40|
|Spreading the Word, John Booth||49|
|A Foundation for the Future? Kenneth C. Gartner||50|
|Haere ki o Koutou Tipuna||62|
COVER: Miss Kiri Te Kanawa, a talented Auckland soprano who has had a remarkable series of successes in competition events, was this year's winner of the John Court Aria contest at the Auckland Competitions.
Miss Te Kanawa, who is aged 20, is studying singing on a Maori Education Foundation scholarship. She hopes to compete in next year's Australian Sun Aria contest, and later on to study overseas.
She has a minor role in the newly-released New Zealand film, ‘Runaway’.
Illustrations: page 11, Graham Percy. Back cover, Gordon Walters.
‘Te Ao Hou’
How thrilling it was to see the open friendly face of Hone Tuwhare on the cover of the September issue of ‘Te Ao Hou’.
Through your magazine I should like to express my admiration for his poetry, which has strengthened my faith in the future of poetry among my Maori people.
To Hone I say, ‘Go to it, Friend, and through your talents may you keep alive the precious tradition of oratory received from our forefathers’.
ERNA WINTERBURN (Otaki)
‘The Raw Men’
‘Te Ao Hou’
In his letter in your last issue, Mr Pinfold says that Rowley Habib's poem on the Maori Battalion, ‘The Raw Men’, creates an unfair image and is derogatory criticism.
I am sure that the poem was not meant as criticism, and I do not think that most readers would regard it in this way.
If war were to come again now, and if Mr Habib were to write about a new Maori Battalion, his poem would be very different, for these days there would be many Maori soldiers who would come to the army from occupations such as teaching, the arts, medicine, the regular armed forces, and trades such as carpentry and mechanics. But the majority of men who joined the Maori Battalion 25 years ago, and who fought so heroically, did come from the background that the poem describes. Mr Habib has written a good poem about a true situation.
‘Te Ao Hou’
I have been reading your very interesting magazine, which a friend sends on to me, and I wondered if you could possibly help me.
I am interested in the Maori people, their way of living and their culture, and I would very much like to correspond with a Maori pen friend. I wonder if any of your readers might like to write to me.
I'm 27 years old, married, and very fond of music from New Zealand and Hawaii. I was brought up in Australia, so New Zealand has always been very ‘near’ to me.
The articles and stories in ‘Te Ao Hou’ are very interesting indeed, and so are the photographs.
And ‘hats off’ to Maureen Kingi, she's really pretty!
MARQUITA VANDERMEER 14 School Street, Vooreschoten, Holland
Maori Studies at Training College
‘Te Ao Hou’
I read with great interest the editorial in ‘Te Ao Hou’ no. 47, in which you posed a very interesting question. I quote:
‘It is sometimes said, with justifiable resentment, that “here comes the tourist—bring on the Maori” is too common an attitude; and the question is asked as to why the Pakeha cannot do more to entertain the tourist—has the [ unclear: ] , then, no culture of his own?’
A good question, as you say, and further on in this same issue we find an article on Mr Rowley Habib, also his review of the operetta performed by the Turakina Maori Girls' College, and in both these articles Mr Habib expresses opinions that could be answers to this question.
When children at secondary school who intend to become primary school teachers take French as part of their professional course, what use do they make of this language while they are at Training College, and later as primary school teachers? Because I have often wondered about this, I would like to ask why Maori language and culture cannot be taught at Training College, not as a part-time subject or through clubs, but as a full-time subject with a full-time lecturer—not only to interested Maori students, but to all students!
If it is not practicable to teach all students Maori language and culture at the Training College level, could it not be introduced in its preliminary stage to sixth form pupils intending to be teachers, with later specialized studies at Training College: so that instead of saying with justifiable resentment, ‘Here comes the tourist—bring on the Maori’, we can say with justifiable pride, ‘Here comes the tourist—bring on the New Zealander’.
AS I SEE IT (Gisborne)
For the Maori’
king koroki, leader of the Waikato Maori tribes and head of the King movement, has urged his people to take advantage of education as a staff to help them along the road they must travel with the Pakeha. This came in a special message at the end of the celebrations marking the 31st anniversary of his appointment.
Treading the Same Road
King Koroki said he had been particularly gratified that so many Pakeha people had joined their Maori friends at Turangawaewae Pa, Ngaruawahia, at the weekend. It gave point to his remarks made this time last year before the centenary of the Battle of Rangiriri that Pakeha and Maori must tread the same road together into the second century of peace between the two races. ‘But the Maori people need a staff to help them along the way and the best staff of all is knowledge. Therefore I commend to you all, especially the young people, the value of education,’ he said.
The Expression of Maoritanga
The retention of the old culture was, however, dear to his heart and the annual celebrations at Turangawaewae gave an opportunity for the expression of all elements of Maoritanga. Those who had planned and built Turangawaewae and who now rested from their labours would have rejoiced to have seen the thousands who thronged the marae at the weekend.
They would have been pleased to see hospitality still extended to visitors and to know that the arts of oratory and entertainment, together with physical endeavour on the sports field, were still kept at a very high level.
In particular, King Koroki congratulated the young people on their very high standard of behaviour throughout the celebrations.
at last it has been decided that Victoria University in Wellington will teach Maori studies as soon as a lecturer in the subject can be obtained. Professor E. Beaglehole has been appointed temporary head of the Anthropology Department, to which the Maori Studies section will belong.
at this year's annual conference of the Maori Women's Welfare League, Mrs Ruhia Sage of Hamilton was elected the new president. She replaces Mrs M. Hirini, m.b.e., who has served as president for four terms.
New vice-presidents elected were Mrs Miria Logan (Hastings) and Mrs Te A. Potaka (Aotea). Three new members of the national executive were elected: Mrs Nellie Rata (North Auckland), Mrs Sue Murray (Waikato-Maniapoto) and Mrs Lucy Puohotaua (Aotea).
The Princess Te Puea trophy for the best annual report went to the Rotorua District Council, with the Wellington District Council second.
The recently appointed director of the new Rotorua Maori Arts and Crafts Institute is Mr P. H. Leonard, M.B.E. Mr Leonard, a former Rotorua deputy mayor, was for 10 years chairman of the Arawa Trust Board. He is well known as a carver. The institute's chairman is Mr A. M. Linton, mayor of Rotorua. Also on the committee are: Mr R. S. O'Dell (general manager, Tourist and Publicity Department), Mr J. M. McEwen (secretary, Maori Affairs Department), Mr H. H. MacFarlane (Whakarewarewa Maori Committee), Mr H. Rogers (N.Z. Maori Council). The institute plans firstly to develop Whakarewarewa as a first-class tourist area, then to proceed with the much greater task of promoting and teaching traditional arts and crafts.
The Very Rev. J. G. Laughton
Fifty Years of Service To The Maori People
the very rev. j. g. laughton, who for 50 years has worked among the Maori people as missionary and teacher, this year celebrated the golden anniversary of his ordination as a missionary of the New Zealand Presbyterian Church.
Most of this time has been spent with the Tuhoe people of the Urewera Country, among whom Hoani Rotene (to give Mr Laughton his Maori name) is regarded as one of the most honoured of elders.
Last July the Tuhoe people of Rotorua marked the occasion of his anniversary with a special service held at the Mataatua marae, Rotorua, when Mr Laughton was presented with gifts for use in his ministry.
Life Spent in Service of Others
All those who know Mr Laughton speak of him as being, in a very rare sense of the word, a good man. His great ability and driving force, combined with a true humility and love of his fellowmen, have been the foundation of a lifetime spent in the service of others.
Born in the Orkney Islands, Mr Laughton has some of the mystic qualities which give him an affinity with the Maori people. Fifty years ago, he commenced full-time work for the Presbyterian Church of New Zealand when he established the first church at Pio Pio. Here he ministered to both Maori and Pakeha, so it was a natural decision for him to accept the challenge to serve in the Presbyterian Mission in 1918.
Appointed to Maungapohatu
His first assignment was to assist in felling and splitting the timer and erecting two large temporary classrooms and a dwelling at Ruatahuna. In 1918 he was appointed to Maungapohatu, Rua's stronghold. Rua had just returned from prison and was extremely displeased to find that in his absence, arrangements had been made for a Mission School to be opened by Mr Laughton.
Mr Laughton's tact soon won over Rua and a friendship was started that continued until Rua's death. Rua's final instruction was that Mr Laughton was to perform the burial rites, and he also decreed that all the children of his people were to be brought up in the in-
Rotorua Post photo
The Very Rev. J. G. Laughton, shown here during a trip last year down the Whakatane River, did much of his travelling in the Ureweras on horseback.
During these years Mr Laughton acquired an expert knowledge of the Maori language, and became an authority on the history of the Ureweras.
In 1921 Mr Laughton married Miss H. Te Kauru. Throughout his career, Mrs Laughton has ably supported him in his work.
In 1926 Mr and Mrs Laughton moved from Maungapohatu to Taupo. He was appointed Assistant Superintendent of Maori Missions in 1933, and became Superintendent in 1936. In 1938 he moved to Whakatane when the headquarters of the Mission was established there.
In subsequent years he saw the work of the Mission grow, and each year he covered many thousands of miles by car, horseback and even on foot, visiting his scattered area.
Chairman of Maori Bible Committee
In 1946 Mr Laughton was appointed Chairman of the Maori Bible Revision Committee. His expert knowledge of the Maori language, his organising ability and hard, devoted work were of inestimable value in this tremendous task.
Acknowledgement of his great work for the Maori people was made when in 1948, King George VI conferred on him the honour of Companion of St Michael and St George.
In 1950 the task of revising the Maori Bible was finally completed, and Mr Laughton, with his wife, went to England to see the Revised
Maori Bible through the press.
Mr Laughton has been a member of the Maori Purposes Fund Board for many years, and of the Ngarimu Scholarship Fund Board since its inception.
In 1956, on the constitution of the Presbyterian Maori Synod, Mr Laughton became its first Moderator, a position he occupied until his retirement six years later. Since then he has undertaken part-time work in the Rotorua district, where he has greatly endeared himself to the members of the Tuhoe tribe now living there.
The following tribute to Hoani Rotene was written for Te Ao Hou by one of his mokai tauira, the Rev. Tame Hawea, of Wellington.
‘E kōrero ana ētahi kupu, “I tonoa mai he tangata e te Atua, ko Hoani tōna ingoa. I harere mai ia hei kaiwhakaatu, hei whakaatu mō te mārama, kia meinga ai nga tāngata kia whakapono.” Tūhoe nui tonu, otirā te iwi Maori nui tonu, ehara māku te whakamārama, te whakapuaki rānei i ngā mihi ki tēnei kaumātua; arā atu a nui mā. Engari he wāhi i tukuna mai ki a au. Me pēwhea ake hoki he kōrero i ngā kupu tonu o roto i te Rongopai. Ko Hoani Rōtene te tūturutanga o te Maoritanga. He tangata hūmārie i tuku i a ia tata tonu anō ki te mate mō tōna iwi, kia riro ai i a rātou ngā taonga e kōrerotia nei e tātou te whakapono, te tūmanako, te aroha. Rima tekau ngā tau i takatū ai ia mō tāua. Kei roto i ngā rekoata kua mutu tana mahi, kua ritaea. Ko ngā mea kei te mōhio ki tēnei kaumātua kei te mātau kore rawa e mutu tana mahi mō tōna iwi. Ko te wawata a tōna iwi kia tohungia ia kia tino aru te pai me te atawhai i a ia.’
Visit to Tonga — ‘The Friendly Islands’
Among the 30 New Zealanders who attended the annual conference of the Pan Pacific and South-East Asia Women's Association in Tonga last August, were four Maori women, all members of the Maori Women's Welfare League: Mrs M. Hirini, Mrs R. Takarangi, Mrs Te A. Potaka and Mrs E. Magee.
In this article Mrs Eve Magee gives her impressions of the conference.
flying from auckland to Fiji, our plane went at a terrific rate, and the trip took only four hours. After spending the night at a Fijian hotel we boarded another plane, not nearly such a grand one this time, for the second part of our journey to Tonga.
Beneath us were the mountains of Fiji's interior, the shining rivers and the coastal plantations. Then after three hours above the clouds we came in sight of Tonga, a long thin island with a big lagoon, no mountains and no rivers.
Many people were there to meet us at the airport. Pretty girls put leis around our necks, and buses and cars took us to the town of Nuku'alofa. There we were most warmly welcomed by our hosts and hostesses, who billeted us in their homes and did everything possible to look after us and make us feel at home. Everyone in Tonga seemed delighted for us to be there, and they certainly lived up to their country's name as ‘The Friendly Islands’.
In their isolated home it needed hard and enthusiastic work to organise such a large conference as this. The Tongan people made a wonderful success of it, and have set a standard it will be difficult for future conferences to follow.
I stayed at a very comfortable new house in the heart of the village. Round about us were tall coconut palms, other tropical trees and plants, and hibiscus flowers in full bloom. The weather was fine and very warm.
Seeing the ‘Sights’
Next day we went sight-seeing. Among the ‘sights’ of Nuku'alofa are the Royal Palace, the Royal Chapel, the Tongan High School, the Quen Salote College, and the market-place where local arts and crafts are displayed. We also saw the tombs of the Kings standing imposingly in an area set carefully apart, and visited a village where we saw the whole process of tapa-making being carried out. Flying foxes hang upside down in the trees at Kolo-
vai, and in the grounds of the palace there still wanders the old, old blind tortoise which Captain Cook presented to the Tongans in the 1770's.
Nuku'alofa has a lovely beach, and a wharf where the big ships come. In the water live the brightly coloured fish that you see in aquariums. There was a deep purple one that darted in and out of the rocks, then quite a number came out, orange and yellow ones, even some pink ones.
A Kava Ceremony
On the Saturday evening we witnessed a kava ceremony. All the boys aged from 15 to 20 were sitting cross-legged on the verandah, just sipping a little of the kava, being served once every half-hour or so. There was beautiful singing. They were really enjoying themselves.
By this time I had learnt quite a lot about Tonga. Tonga is an independent kingdom under the protection of Great Britain. Queen Salote, who has reigned since 1918, rules with the aid of Parliament and a Privy Council. The Parliament is made up of the elected representatives of the people, of the Chiefs and of the Nobles. All male Tongans over 21 may vote, but women do not yet have the vote.
At the age of 17 each man receives a holding of eight acres, which he cultivates himself. They grow plants such as yams, kumaras, pineapples and breadfruit, also copra and bananas, their main exports. When a Tongan man dies, his land belongs to the Crown again.
Everyone goes to church. The Queen is the spiritual as well as the temporal head of her people, being head of the Free Wesleyan Church, the state religion of Tonga. The main church holds 1,400 people, and is so big that it could be a cathedral. On Sunday everyone dresses up and no unnecessary work is done. There is no bathing in the sea, no cooking inside, and no fishing. No one is allowed to land in Tonga on a Sunday. The men are supposed to prepare the meals. They go for walks and visit one another.
On the morning of Monday 17 August, Her Majesty Queen Salote officially opened the 10th conference of the Pan-Pacific South East Asian Women's Association.
The theme of this year's conference was, ‘the role of women in preserving the cultural heritage of mankind’.
Each address on an aspect of this subject was followed by round-table discussions in groups. It was most interesting to hear the various views of the delegates, who came from the U.S.A., Hawaii, Western Samoa, Fiji, New Zealand, Australia, Tonga, Japan and Taiwan China. The diversity of opinion was startling, coming as it did from delegates representing under-developed, medium, and over-developed countries.
Some of the questions discussed were: women's role in the home, in the community, and in the bringing of peace to the world; the needs of developing countries; the roles of the Food and Agriculture Organisation and the World Health Organisation; the effect of such instruments of change as the radio; art and culture as a bridge between the past and the future; the role of the mother, guardian of the race and of its heritage.
I feel that the discussions and interchange of opinions were of much value, and that we all gained a great deal from considering the central issue against such a wide background of differing human circumstances.
The international concert held one evening was certainly a highlight to remember. Each nation was given ten minutes to stage impromptu items. For New Zealand, Mrs Takarangi and Mrs Potaka of Wanganui led all our delegates in song, poi and haka. It was sad that Mrs Hirini, past president of the Maori Women's Welfare league, could not join us that night, because she had received a telegram that day telling of the passing of her mokopuna. We were all sad for her.
On Sunday we were invited to attend a church service in their huge church, and heard the combined choirs singing choral numbers. The climax of the evening was the singing by these hundreds of voices of the Halleluia Chorus. The building was 60 or 70 feet high, but their full, harmonious voices filled it without any trouble. Hearing them was a wonderful experience, and truly inspiring.
mr j. w. stevens, a Maori teacher at Taupo's Tauhara School, is one of a dozen New Zealanders who recently left for England to spend a year as an exchange teacher there. Mr Stevens, who is first assistant at his school, will be met in Southampton by his brother, Mr W. T. Stevens, whom he has not seen for 12 years.
Lest We Forget
i had a dream last night, a dream so realistic and fantastic that I hardly know what to do about it. I have decided to put it down on paper. It is nearly three days since this occurred, and I have finally decided to go ahead with it. I have been back in town for nearly a week, having recently returned from the North Island, where my wife and I attended the unveiling and opening of the 28th Maori Battalion Memorial Hall at Palmerston North. To begin my story.
It is Monday evening and I have just lit the fire in our lounge grate, and placed my TV in its usual place in preparation for an enjoyable evening's programme. I have made myself a light snack so that when it is supper time I have no need to go out to the kitchen and make it. So after all is prepared, I am settled down comfortably. My friends, please bear with me a while longer. The programme is ended, I have eaten my supper, and now for a pipe of my favourite aromatic before going to bed. But I am destined not to get to bed until the early hours of morning.
I remember finishing my pipe, then waiting to see the fire go down a wee bit more. The embers in the grate are glowing and my tired eyes are gazing sleepily into the red coals. My thoughts make pictures down there in that glowing fire-box, pictures that take my mind back over the events of the past few days. My thoughts carry me across the sea, to a place where I see a great concourse of people gathered together with singleness of purpose: to pay homage and to honour a famous New Zealand fighting force, the 28th Maori Battalion. There is a strange expression on the faces of the kuias or elder wahines, and the middle-aged wahines, as they cry their lamentations and make their gestures of welcome in the powhiri: an expression of great pride and greater regret, mingled with a calm, unselfish humility.
A funny thing is happening to me, everything seems to be changing. I am somehow being transported to somewhere in the bush; my chair has vanished and the room has faded away, and I am standing near a great timber sawmill. I am dressed as a lumber-jack. I do not know this place, but I have a feeling I have been here before. I can hear the hum and howl of great powerful saw-teeth tearing their way through the tall stands of timber which stretch for miles into the hazy distance, and I am pulling huge slabs of timber off a moving bench. Funny thing, I know I have never worked anywhere on a job of this kind.
There are hundreds of men and machines working here, great log-hauling trucks of all descriptions. I am working in a very wet job. I am thinking of getting a change-over to something better, perhaps I may get into one of the trucks with my friend Robbi. Ah well, there is the whistle for lunch. I had better get cracking in case Mum goes rude. I am always late. So long.
I live just a stone's throw away from the mill. Here we are.
‘Hey, no you don't, out you go, not on my clean floor. You boys seem to think that we mothers are here just to scrub and clean the house, so as you can walk in any time of day with your dirty boots on.’
‘Aw break it up Mum, I'll be late. Oh, all right Mum, anything for a quiet life.’
‘You are just like your Dad Wi. All you think I am here for is to slave all day and night.’
‘Aw come off it Mum, you know that you are the sunshine in Dad's life.’
‘You are just like your Dad, full of ballyhoo. He knows how to get around me. Come on now son, you'll be late as usual. Clean up, and sit up to the table. Quickly or the food will get cold, hurry now.’
‘Gee, smells good too. You know Mum, the boss said….’
Hey the table, the whole place, everything is folding away, I must be going crackers. Everything is misty and hazy and now I am in the middle of a great plain or swamp, no it is a lake-side place. It seems to be different here, it is a sort of tourist resort. Hello, here is a building or hall. No, it's a meeting-house.
There must be a party or a dance being held there. I'll go inside and have a look. Boy those fellows can certainly play. Not bad for a Hori band, very good, this will do me, I wonder how much is it to go in.
‘You talking to me, boy?’
‘Yes, how much to go in?’
‘What's in hell the matter with you. I just gave you a pass to go outside.’
What's the matter with me, of course, I live here.
‘Where have you been all this time Rangi?’
‘Who me, oh I have been outside for a breath of fresh air.’
‘You want to dance this one Rangi?’
‘I don't mind, Kiri, it's the second to last dance. The last is a waltz, and I know you love to waltz.’
‘Yes I do Rangi, so we will have both.’
‘You know Kiri, I can follow your steps anywhere you go. You are a pretty good dancer.’
‘Ah you Rangi, I'll bet you say that to all the girls.’
‘Now Kiri you know I've only got one girl.’
‘Silly, I like teasing you Rangi, you are so serious.’
‘Of course I am serious, and when we get married and have our own little home, I shall tie you up to a ball and chain so that you won't get away from me.’
‘Oh Rangi, do you mean that?’
‘I am just waiting for the day.’
We are having our last waltz and then for home.
We are nearing Kiri's home and the road is fairly dark, with a solitary light glowing through the hall door.
‘Must you go in so soon dear?’
‘Yes darling, Dad doesn't like me to stay out too late.’
‘Kiss me goodnight.’
‘Goodnight dear Rangi.’
‘So long Kiri.’
I am nearly home. I had better take off my shoes and creep in, so as not to wake Mum. Hang it all, I've dropped one of my shoes.
‘Is that you son?’
‘Yes Mum, I am just going to bed.’
‘Wait, come in here a minute, I want to talk to you. I can't go to sleep. Did you have a nice time at the dance?’
‘Yes, pretty good Mum.’
‘Was Kiri there?’
‘You like her, don't you Rangi?’
‘Yes I do Mum, very much.’
‘Well, your father and I like her too. So now you run off to bed now. Kiss me goodnight.’
‘God bless you Mum.’
‘Go quietly past your father's room, he has to start work early in the morning.’
I close the door slowly, open my bedroom door and switch on my light. Hello, the light must be broken or fused. And now once again that eerie feeling is with me.
Although I am still in the darkness there is all-pervading cold, and a swaying motion under my feet. I am dressed as a fisherman. Where I am I have no idea as yet, but I am holding fast to the rigging of a fore and aft schooner-rigged fishing ketch. She is sailing into a fairly heavy running sea. Something tells me we are off the coast, way down south aways, for I can feel that pulsating swell underfoot which is so much a part of a sailor's life when riding those mountainous rollers that sweep mightily up from southward of the Solanders, and on to smash their way through the straits. I am there and it is my first trip out and I love the feel of the wind and sleet in my face. It makes me feel just as my migratory Polynesian forbears felt, who were the most fearless of the Blue Water Breed.
My salty reverie is suddenly broken by the voice of a fog horn.
‘What the hell are you doing up there Boy? Get down below now. Belay or I'll skin you alive.’
My gosh that was my old man. I'd better get going smartly into the focsle. Me for the sack.
‘What do you think you were doing up there lad, looking for mermaids perhaps?’
‘No Dad, I was doing a bit of thinking.’
‘Getting homesick are you?’
‘No Dad, nothing like that.’
‘Oh yes you are, I know. Never mind, you can't help it I suppose. Your mother is always making a fuss over you. I'll never make a man out of you. You talk about wanting to go to the next war. If there is one they'll make mincemeat of you in no time at all. So long now lad, turn down your lamp.’
My eyes close and I am asleep. No, wait. I am in a long barracks type of room and there is a tense, electrifying atmosphere everywhere. Hundreds of men are queued up—waiting for what? Yes it is war. War at last. They have been talking about war for a long time, and now it has come. There are men from all over
this wonderful country of ours. I wonder why there do not seem to be many Pakehas in this building, only a few; maybe they are part Maori and part Pakeha. I suppose that's it. Hello, my turn now.
‘Yes come on there, snap out of it. Don't loiter, step up. What's your name, John? Address? Age?’
‘Twenty-two my eye. Come on lad what's your age. You're not twenty-one yet are you?’
‘No sir, I am twenty-two.’
‘That sounds like something to me but I'll believe you lad. All right, on the dotted line. Right, hop it now. Next please. We'll let you know whether you make it or not, my lad.’
The scene has changed again and all that I see is dust and clouds of it. Tramp tramp tramp, we're marching. Halt, attention, stand easy, tramp tramp tramp. More marching, more halts, attentions and stand at ease until I could go to sleep on my feet. Left right, left right, night and day, day in and day out. Right wheel, left wheel, left right, left right. Present arms, slope arms, present arms. All day long this goes on.
Then leave, final leave whacko. I am at home and I am the favourite son; and somehow, wherever the boys are I am a part of them also: I am every mother's son of them. I am trying and yet not managing to make things pleasant for Mum, for she is doing her very best to hold herself up under the terrific strain of these last few days. I feel a great sorrow in my heart for Mum, I wish I had never enlisted now. No, no, what am I saying. Mum would never forgive me if she thought I felt like that. For upon that face, so beautiful and lined with care, is an expression of great pride, and a tranquility which seems to come from the very depths of her being.
Now I am on board ship in the middle of a great ocean. It is nearly dark, and quite close to us there are other, darker shapes. They are other ships. Everything is quiet. I am writing to my girlfriend, to my brother, to my sister, and last of all to the most wonderful of all God's creatures, my mother.
Time passes quickly on board; we are somewhere in this great expanse of water. Troops are trans-shipping; now they are all aboard their respective ships. The great liners move slowly apart, and the lads are singing ‘Now is the hour,’ as the evening sun goes slowly down in the west. Thousands of throats are singing a million regrets for loved ones left behind. When shall they meet again, who knows?
The painfully sad music fades away with the breeze. It is still night, but now I am not on the sea, but in a valley. There are hundreds of us there, lying quietly, waiting for something to happen. There are hundreds of us in a hundred different theatres of conflict, waiting this night, for what? A silence of approaching doom is in the air and in the earth, and in everyone of us is the fear of the unknown.
We know it now, it is here, in that streak of lightning across the blackened sky. Now it seems that all the legions of hell are loose under our feet. And every mother's son rises to a man, to fight, to die, to suffer: for what reason, I wonder why. For that night which was turned to day by fire, blast, and flame, for that night mankind went back a thousand years.
High above the sound of battle is a dream-like hypnotic sound of stamping feet. Stand, parry, guard, thrust, where did I hear those words. Somewhere in the dimness of time, ka mate, ka mate, ka ora ka ora. Stand, guard, thrust, parry. Tenei te tangata puhuruhuru nana nei i tiki mai whakawhiti te ra. Upane, upane, kaupane whakawhiti te ra, a ha ha.
The sound of battle seems never to wane. Smoke envelops everything. Now I am on a hill, and at the top of the hill are a handful of men. We are surrounded by our foes who have been hammering at us for days, it seems for years. Our force is gradually getting smaller but we fight all the harder to retain our position. The hill is a shambles. I am there, and I am doing my damnedest, but every time I strike a blow at the enemy, I go right on through them. It is very uncanny. I seem to bear a charmed life.
The scene on the hill is now one of desolation. A most astounding thing is being enacted there. There are only two men left; one is down, and the other is standing but fatally wounded, hit by rifle fire. This man is only a boy in years, but he has the toughness of the true seasoned fighter. They are coming up the hill now, he has thrown his weapon at his foes. He still will not give in. He is fighting them now with sticks and stones. No wait, there are others there helping him, but they are not in uniform: they are naked, but for the piupiu which they wear around their waists. They seem to pass through the enemy as I did. I know who they are.
Alas, at last they have him down, but they
have to hold him there. Then it is finished. A great moment has passed into history. He lies there, it could be you, it could be someone else's boy. I do not know. I feel a terrible emptiness within myself.
The scene has changed and under my feet I feel a tremendous vibration, coming closer and closer, the sound of a giant's tread getting louder and louder until everywhere is shaking, it seems with an earthquake. The sky has darkened and the ground where the lad lies is the only place which is lit up. Ah, a deadly fear holds me in a vicelike grip, for as I look upwards I see a giant of a man taller than the highest peak of Hikurangi. But this is not a man looking down at the lad lying there. His face is emblazoned with scars of a thousand battles, fought down through the milleniums of time. Over his shoulders lies a great dog-skin cloak, and in his right hand is a huge taiaha. He reaches down for the lad and wonder of wonders, the lad stands up, but there are no clothes on him, only a piupiu. And the giant takes his cloak from his shoulders and places it around the lad.
I cannot look for long, for the blazing light of his body is brighter than a hundred suns, and I can smell the stench of battle which comes from that cloak of blood, sweat and doom. For who but the god of war could wear such a garment. He smiles at the lad, and hand in hand they walk away into the distance. In their wake, along that pathway of valour which leads to the stars, there follow thousands of warriors. As they fade away I can hear a distant wailing: maybe it is the wind, maybe some sound I remember in another life.
It is so peaceful and restful sitting here on this hillside overgrown with orange trees, or perhaps they are olives. I see at my feet many rows of beautiful white crosses glistening in the warm afternoon sun. They are in a far foreign land, and I see a smiling lad lying there beneath one of those crosses. He is gazing up into the eyes of One, whose intensity is like the stars and like the heavens in their depth. When He speaks, His voice is a familiar one, for the lad has heard its beautiful tones before, in the music of the winds and the roar of the mighty seas, as he roamed the shores of his homeland.
Then the Voice spoke to the lad.
‘What wouldst thou that I should do for thee, O son of sacrifice?’
Then the boy answered, ‘Tell me the meaning of this strife, and if I have died in vain.’
‘Come with me, and I will show thee.’
Then the Spirit reached out His hand to the boy. And then the boy saw the blood drops which fell to the ground, and saw for the first time that his friend was wounded. He cried out and pointed to the hand.
‘When did it happen?’
‘It was a long time ago that it happened,’ came the Voice, quiet and low, ‘but only since this war have they started to bleed again. See also my feet and my side.’
Then the flowers around seemed to stiffen their stalks, to raise them higher, and higher from the ground, and to bear them away to a sweet and cool region where war and pain are not, but peace and love and everlasting life reign forever more.
Dear reader this is the end of my story, dedicated to all the mothers of those brave boys who made the supreme sacrifice so that we who remain may enjoy peace, and live together in harmony with all mankind.
Mr Nick Karaitiana of Christchurch belongs on his father's side to Ngati Kahungunu and on his mother's side to the Rangiamoa hapu of Ngaitahu. He was educated at Tuahiwi Pa, North Canterbury, and at Hikurangi College, Carterton.
Mr Karaitiana, who is a carpenter by trade, has sung for many years on stage and radio, and in 1957 toured Australia and the Far East with the famous Kathrine Dunham company of Negro dancers and singers.
This is the first story he has written.
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The Positive Approach
at the last minute he hadn't wanted to go.
‘What say they have a party down at the pa?’ he said. ‘I don't like your being alone with all that drink about. I think perhaps I'd better not go.’
But she had brushed aside his objections. ‘I'll be all right, Trev. Really. There won't be any parties—no one's having a birthday. Anyway, it's your place to go; you're the only relative close at hand and the old chap was pretty good to you.’
‘That's just it. But are you sure you'll be okay? What about the nights?’
‘Look, I'll be fine. You know I'm not nervous. It's only two nights anyway.’
‘Where's teacher gone, Miss?’ asked Moko. His hair was like rusty steel wool, his nose ran as usual, and his face was smeared redly with breakfast jam. Tinned jam, she thought, tinned jam, just like them. No idea of economy.
‘To a funeral, Moko. My goodness what a dirty face! Did you wash before you came to school?’
Moko opened brown eyes in injured astonishment.
‘Oh, yes, Miss. Course I did, Miss. Big tangi, Miss?’
No, Moko, no tangi. And don't tell stories. You go right off and wash now, go on.’
She watched him disappear round the corner of the school, bare feet dragging, heard him muttering to himself, and the sudden angry spurt of the tap. Why did they have to tell lies, she thought, vexedly. Perhaps it was her fault, the way she went about things. Maybe she wasn't positive enough. She remembered the lines of the college text-book, almost their exact position on the page—‘Be positive. Never frame your questions so that the child is tempted to lie. Confront him with the fact.’ Hmm, very easy in theory.
She turned, and went in out of the sunshine, into the cool porch that never quite lost its smell of old coats, and discarded tennis shoes and disinfectant.
On that morning of all days, there had to be a new entrant. She had thought she knew all the ones coming on, but not this one. Where did this one spring from? Back from a prolonged loan to some aunt or other, she supposed; you could never get them sorted out into proper relationships.
The newcomer was a girl. She came as they all did, unheralded and unsung, hiding behind the others, and discovered only when the bell brought some sort of order out of the play-ground hurly-burly. She hung back at the door, and refused at first to come in at all.
‘Who is she? Whose sister is she?’
‘It's Ra, Miss.’
‘Your sister, Wiri? Well, don't leave her there. Bring her in. It's nearly second bell.’
Ra was as shy as a rabbit. Every time she was spoken to, she put both hands over her face, and hung her head, so that her hair hung down like a curtain. She stayed that way by the blackboard, unmoving except for one splayed brown foot, which, pivoting back and forth on the big toe, explored a dusty crack. Only when the bell was rung did she stir. First one hand, then the other, slid downward; one stayed at chin level, the mouth opening automatically to receive a dirty thumb; the other stayed poised in mid-air curled over on itself like a frond of summer bracken. Her eyes lit up at the sound of the bell, and she smiled with sudden pleasure.
The woman smiled back, warmly.
‘It's a nice bell, isn't it, Ra?’
You couldn't help being fond of them, especially when they smiled at you like that. Though they often let you down so that you swore ‘never again’, though they sometimes got into moods so black it was like looking into a bottomless pit, yet, in spite of it all, when they turned on that eye-dancing smile, you felt it was the best job in all the world.
The day didn't go so badly in spite of her having two rooms to watch. She set the standards to work, and left them to it. Riki and Monica, the big girls, she let off to help with the infant reading and to take the smallest ones out to play. At the end of school she knelt down beside the newest entrant, and sitting back on her heels, asked kindly—
‘Well, Ra, how did you like school?’ Then, hastily, (be positive) ‘School was good, wasn't it, Ra?’
But Ra was not to be drawn. She clenched one hand over her pocket, and hid her face with the other. The woman's eyes followed the direction of the lowered hand, idly, with amusement, until …
‘Ra, have you been taking … Ra, you have something in your pocket. Let me see.’ Confront them with the fact, said the book. ‘You have some of teacher's crayons, haven't you? Show me.’
‘I thought so.’
The crayons, disinterred and laid out, were like so many pitiful little corpses on the desk top—a red one, two black, and a yellow.
‘That was very naughty, Ra. You mustn't take things that belong to teacher. Do you hear? You must never take things from school. It's very bad. Now run along home.’
Young monkey, she thought to herself, as she crossed the playground wearily on her way to the house. I'll have to watch her. First day at school, too.
There was a high wind that night. It made a roaring in the poplars like the sound of the sea. At each fresh gust the branches of the lilac swept fretfully against the house wall. She lay restless in the big bed, listening to the scrabbling branches with growing irritation. I meant to cut it back, she reproached herself, now it'll scratch all night. Borne fitfully on the wind came the sound of singing. There was a party after all; she had forgotten it was a year since the Pungas' baby had arrived. Anyone's birthday was a good excuse for a party. Now they were hard at it—the guitars
and the banjos and the beer—anything up to a couple of days it'd last, intermittently, and tomorrow the children would be dull-eyed, drooping over their desks, untidier, more unwashed than usual. She though back to earlier times, other parties, when she and her husband were new to it, and more horrified.
‘Who gets your meals for you, Rangi?’ she had asked. ‘Who looks after you when there's a party?’
‘We all right, Miss. We get a bread.’
The children thought nothing of it. They were used to having to forage for themselves. But she and Trev—they never got used to it. They were filled each time with a furious disgust, in turn with the moneymaking publican, the happy-go-lucky Maoris, the whole setup of decrepit housing, dirt, and neglect.
Hope nothing happens tonight, she thought uneasily. If only I could get off to sleep. Did I lock up the school? I can't remember. The pumphouse door rattled free of its catch, and began to bang. With taut nerves she lay listening for each succeeding crash, waiting for it, dreading it like an expected physical pain. Like having a baby, the thought came. Her mind wandered over the empty house, counting the children who had never come to fill it, wondering what it would have been like not having to teach, no primers to struggle with, that new one, now, that Ra, she was going to take some watching.
A stronger gust made the house tremble, whipped the lilac to a new frenzy and filled the air with a confusion of sound. Above the high roaring, the smack and bang of branches, the wooden crash of the pumphouse door, there came a new sound, faint and uncertain, approaching, withdrawing, like dancers in a gavotte. In a sudden lull it came clear and strong—the sound of a bell.
She sat up with a start. Who could be ringing the bell at this hour? One, no, two o'clock by the faint glow of her watch. She got up wearily, groping for slippers and snatching an old coat of her husband's from behind the door. The moon came out as she crossed the playground; it seemed to be looking back over its shoulder at the scudding clouds. The school door stood open, and from the direction of the infant room came the subdued clang of the bell. She walked quickly down the corridor and flung open the door. The bell clattered to the floor, rolled a little with lolling tongue and lay mute.
‘Ra! Whatever are you doing here at this hour?’
She surveyed the crouching figure with mounting exasperation. Those crayons again! What they wouldn't do to get what they wanted!
‘You were after teacher's crayons again, weren't you? You naughty little girl. Come here. Give them to me.’
Ra eyed her warily out of wild brown eyes. She said nothing.
‘Quickly now. Do as I tell you.’
No sound, no movement.
‘Oh, you exasperating child. Let me see!’
But there was no sign of a crayon anywhere. The pocket of the far-too-big pyjama jacket was quite empty. Just as well, thought the woman, another few minutes and the child would have been embarked on a career of petty crime. These parties! No wonder the children got themselves into trouble, roaming all over the place at two in the morning.
She picked up the silent child, folding the flapping jacket more warmly about the little bare seat, and set off up the road. As they drew near the Pungas', the music grew louder. Joe Punga was sitting on the doorstep, crooning over a bottle and shouting blurred comments over his shoulder. He waved the bottle amiably as they passed.
‘Have a drink, Miss,’ he offered, not a bit surprised to see her trudging up the road at that hour with a child in her arms. She glared at him in silence, and past him at the teetering dancers weaving back and forth across the doorway. Soon she turned off the road and followed a rough path across the paddock, her footsteps startling half a dozen black pigs which rose grunting from among denuded stalks of cabbage. Cabbages! They planted cabbages and then left the fences gaping for the pigs to get in. She would never understand them.
The shack was in darkness except for a wavering candle on a box by the bed. Two of
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the children were asleep, but Wiri widened his eyes at them in surprise.
‘Where's your mother, Wiri?’ she asked, knowing the answer already.
‘She at the party, Miss. Pungas', they having the party.’
‘You shouldn't let Ra go off like that. She'll be getting into trouble. You don't want her growing up a bad girl, do you, and going off to gaol?’
‘No, Miss,’ answered Wiri, dutiful but unconvinced. He remembered it was gaol where Lena went that time, and came back so clever, sewing clothes for the kids and all. Gaol couldn't be so bad. Ra crawled in obediently beneath the tattered blanket.
‘Now, off to sleep, and no more prowling, d'you hear?’
The candle was snuffed abruptly.
Ra waited till the padding footsteps faded along the pathway; then she leant over the sleepers, and shook them awake urgently. They stirred, muttered, and looked at her with drugged eyes, over which the lids fluttered weakly.
Ra turned to include Wiri in her ecstatic beam.
‘Hey,’ she said, ‘hey, you fellers, you know what?’
The moon, shining mistily through the cobwebbed window, caught the gleam in her eye.
‘You know what?’, she asked again, triumphantly. ‘I rung it … I rung the bell!’
The Burial Cave
They told me not to go.
It was wrong for a stranger
To walk such hallowed soil.
To mock such sacred rite:
They told me not to take their only god
To stifle him between black printed text.
Could land so warm
Could a hole of ancient myth
This my home
Harm so strong a love?
Being a gentleman, he said
‘You wait here, I'll go first.’
Green fern fronds
Waved for him
His last goodbye.
I dined alone that night.
When I was a child
we had to leave our home:
It was a great adventure to me,
but the others—
old enough to learn shame
and know the meaning
of probing eyes
went about with
against tears that would,
that must not show.
It was like opening
a story book and stepping in;
only the covers
would not quite fit,
people could see.
On that final morning,
after we had all slept
in a fowlshed,
spread out on mattresses,
pressed against the walls,
without even saying goodbye.
mr tupona charlie hopa has retired after 30 years' voluntary service as a warden on the Turangawaewae marae. Mr Hopa, who has acted as guide to a great many prominent visitors to the marae, began his service under King Rata Mahuta at Wahi Pa. Transferred to Turangawaewae by Princess Te Puea, he was promoted to Sergeant, and later spent two years as judge of law on the marae. After Princess Te Puea's death, Mr Hopa continued as a warden under King Koroki. He is a member of King Koroki's Council.
Mr Hopa belongs to Ngati Wairere, Ngati Koroki and Ngati Huau. He married Miss Teata Tutahi of Ngati Apakura, and they have ten children.
mathew pine, a talented sculptor who comes from Wanganui, is at present in his second year as a student at Hornsey College of Art, London. He is doing a post-graduate course in sculpture and architectural design, and hopes to remain there for another year. College reports on his work have been excellent.
Mathew, who is aged 24, is studying under a bursary provided by the Maori Education Foundation. Before leaving New Zealand he gained his diploma of fine arts.
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What is an apple?
It's what small boys shinny up trees after … and when one fell down on an Englishman's head several centuries ago, it lead to Newton's law of gravity and a new age of science. It tells teacher she's “favourite” … and its blossoms tell poets and songwriters and young lovers it's Spring. An apple in cider, sauce, butter, dumplings, pie and pan dowdy … and about 90 calories. It gets bartered for and bobbed for … sliced, diced, peeled and “polished” … It gets cooked, candied and toffee-ed on a stick … but mostly just plain chewed. It goes into bushels baskets and picnic baskets … lunch boxes, sacks and fruit stand racks. It keeps the doctor away … and brings kids in from play … and shows up in their cheeks.
An apple is as old as Adam … and as new as fresh paint. Fresh? Why not “fresh-up” with an apple right now?
With acknowledgement to the Wenatchee Valley apple growers
APPLES HAVE THAT FRESH-UP FLAVOUR
N.Z. APPLE AND PEAR MARKETING BOARD
Mr FRANK WINTER
the well known South Island Maori leader, Mr Frank Winter, was recently appointed national secretary of the New Zealand Institute of Architects. From just on 50 applicants, the selection committee was unanimous in choosing Mr Winter.
Frank Winter is a grandson of the late Mrs Eliza Thomas (nee Raiha Tamati) of Riverton.
Education at Te Aute
Mr Winter received his education at Te Aute College, where he was dux in 1922. He remembers his old school with affection. ‘I regard my time at Te Aute as most valuable in that it reinforced my appreciation of my Maori ancestry. It also gave me the basis of a very wide acquaintance of Maoris belonging to tribes other than Ngaitahu.’
In 1924 Mr Winter joined the Maori Affairs Department and for the next nine years he was employed in the Ikaroa and South Island District Office in Wellington. During this period he gained a wide knowledge, particularly of his Ngaitahu people and their claims.
Stay in Gisborne
After this he was transferred to the Tairawhiti District Office of the Department in Gisborne, where for five years he was Senior Court Clerk, and later, Consolidation Officer.
‘My wife and I enjoyed our stay in Gisborne very much indeed,’ he says, ‘and found them to be very fine people there.’
During this time he took a keen interest in Maori welfare work and education.
While he was in Gisborne he enlisted for the Maori Battalion, but was not accepted for overseas service; he did, however, serve for a period on Home Service, being for a year an instructor in the Maori Home Guard Training Corp at Hicks Bay.
Mrs Winter was formerly Perle Hera Taiaroa. Both her grandfathers, the Hon. H. K. Taiaroa and the Hon. Tame Parata, were South Island Members of Parliament and Members of the Legislative Council. She is a younger sister of Puhi, the wife of Mr Rangi Royal.
Mrs Winter, or Perle Taiaroa as she then was, was a pioneer dental nurse, joining the School Dental Service in 1926 shortly after its inception, and serving in New Plymouth from 1928 to 1931. She was the first Maori girl fully to qualify as a dental nurse.
In 1947 the Winter family came to Wellington again when Mr Winter was appointed Assistant General Secretary of the New Zealand Public Service Association. Later he was appointed Deputy General Secretary, the position he held before his retirement from the Association last February.
Chairman of Ngaitahu Maori Trust Board
For the past eight years Mr Winter has been chairman of the efficient and thriving Ngaitahu Maori Trust Board. He is also chairman of the Akapatiki ‘A’ Block Incorporation.
Mr Winter has been patron of the Victoria University Maori Club since its inception; was national treasurer of the Citizen's All Black Tour Association; and is a past secretary of the Poneke Maori Committee.
Mrs Winter also takes a most active part in many organisations. She is vice-president of the Wellington Executive of the Pan-Pacific and South East Asian Women's Association, and has for many years been a member of the Maori Women's Welfare League; a former president of the Poneke branch, she has also been a vice-president and treasurer of the Wellington District Council of the League. She is also a member of the Arohata Women's Borstal Association, a voluntary body which takes a personal interest in the girls at Arohata, and does much to help them.
Mr and Mrs Winter have five children. Michael is a dental practitioner in Dunedin. Anne (Mrs Smith) was formerly a dental nurse in Greymouth, Wellington and Christchurch. Janet (Mrs Kerr) was a school teacher in Wellington and Featherston. Another daughter, Frances is Senior Clerk in the Department of Statistics. The youngest in the family, David is a school teacher at Newtown.
No ‘Cash Maoris’
Mr Winter feels strongly that people of Maori descent should be genuinely interested in their Maori side, and glad to acknowledge it—especially if they are claiming any material advantage from the fact that they have Maori ancestors. This feeling is shared by the other members of the Ngaitahu Maori Trust Board, and the Board has often stressed that those people wishing to benefit from the Maori money which the Board administers should be proud of their descent; it is not sufficient to be merely a ‘cash Maori’, one who acknowledges descent only when such acknowledgement is likely to produce a cash benefit.
One thing is certain: no-one could ever doubt the Winter family's pride in their ancestry — ‘Though perhaps it is not really correct,’ Mr Winter says, ‘to use the word “pride” in this context. The point is that like most, if not all Ngaitahu, we hold both sides of our ancestry in equal regard — and we naturally expect others to do the same. In this sense, I suppose that it would perhaps be right to describe us as being “integrated”.’
Kia U, Kia Mau Ki To Maoritanga
katoa nga waiata kei te titoa i ēnei rā mō ngā whakataetae haka, mō te pōwhiri manuhiri rānei, kei te kī mai ki a tātou kia puritia e tātou tēnei mea e kīia ai tātou he iwi, arā, tō tātou Maoritanga. Kei te mōhio katoa tātou ki ngā tohutohu a tō tātou pakeke, a Tā Apirana, ‘… ko tō ngākau ki ngā taonga a ō tūpuna Maori hei tikitiki mō tō māhuna …’
Tēnā koa, titiro ki ētahi o ngā waiata nei:
‘E hine mā, e tama mā, hāpainga tō mana Maori e
Kia rewa runga rawa,
A! ha! ha!’
‘Hei! aue! aue! hine mā!
Aue tama mā!
Whakatika ake, taringa whakarongo,
Kia mau ki tō reo, te reo Maori …’
‘Kia kaha rā, tamariki mā,
Kia ū kia mau ki ēnei mahi a ngā tūpuna
Kua riro nei ki te pō …’
‘Kua pū kē te ruha ēngari me pēhea rā
E hao ai tātou o tēnei reanga e
Ki te kore e mau ngā taonga tuku iho
A ngā tūpuna rā ki a tātou?’
E kore kē a taea te tatau ngā waiata e tohutohu pēnei ana ki te rangatahi kia hāpainga te taonga whakahirahira nei, ēngari ko te mea tuatahi hoki ko tēnei—tokohia ngā mea waiata nei i ngā waiata kei te mōhio ki te tikanga o ngā kupu? Kei te mōhio katoa tātou ko te nuinga o ngē mea o tēnei whakatipuranga kei te waiata noa iho, kāore i te ārō ake he tika rānei ngā kupu, he hē rānei. Nō reira, ki te āta whakaarohia te take nei, ka kite iho tātou ko te mea tuatahi he whakamārama haere i ngā kupu kia kore ai ngā kaihaka e waiata kuare i ngā kupu, ā, kia kore ai hoki e patua e te whakamā ka pātaitia atu ana e te tangata e pēhea ana rā ngā kupu.
Kei te mōhio katoa tātou mehemea he tauhou te hunga mātakitaki ki tēnei mea ki te haka Maori, waiata Maori rānei, kāore e kore ka pātai kia mōhio ai e pēhea ana rā ngā kupu. Ko ētahi rōpū haka waiho ai mā tō rātou kaitakitaki e whakamārama ā rātou waita, haka rānei. He whiwhi rawa atu ngā rōpū e whai kaitakitaki mōhio ana. Ko ētahi rōpū anō ka kimikimi noa iho i ngā whakamāramatanga, ā, kāore e ārohia ake nō hea. Heoi anō, kua hoki mai anō ki te kuare o ētahi o tātou.
Me pēnea kē hoki, e kare mā?
Kite iho nei i roto i ngā pepa, i ngā puka-puka, kei te aki ngā akonga Maori (me ētahi o ngā mea Pākehā) i ngā Whare Wānanga kia whakaakona te reo Maori ki roto i ngā kura katoa o Aotearoa. Heoi anō te mate, kei hea ngā kaiwhakaako? Ki tāku titiro, he itiiti rawa ngā mea mōhio ki te whakamārama i ngā uauatanga, ngā rerekētanga o tō tātou reo. Apiti atu hoki, he tokomaha tonu ngā kaiwhakaako kāore i te tino mōhio ki te kōrero i te reo, ki te whakatakoto anō hoki i ngā kaupapa whakamārara mō te hunga e ako ana.
E koutou e aki nei, me āta whakaaro koutou i te tuatahi. Taihoa rā e whakaakona whānuitia te reo, kia mōhio pai rā anō koutou, kātahi anō aki ai.
Ko Te Rōpū Wāhine Maori Toko-i-te-Ora, ko rātou anō kei te aki, ēngari ko te nuinga o a rātou nei tamariki ake kāore i te mōhio ki te kōrero Maori, ki te whakarongo rānei. E pai i a rātou e tahuri ki te whakatika i tēnei—kati te kōrero noa iho, wāhine mā! He tokomaha kē ngā Maori e mōhio ana au kāore i te mōhio ki te kōrero Maori he kore nō ō rātou mātua e whakaako, ēngari ko ngā mea kei te kaha te aki ko aua mātua anō rā! Kātahi hoki te rerekē, i nē?
Ko ngā mea e tika ana māna e whakaako te reo kei te waiho kē mā ngā mea o waho e mahi. Kāore e kore ka kī ēnei i te wā e tamariki ana rātou kāore i whakaaetia rātou kia kōrero Maori i ngā papa tākaro o ō rātou kura, ā, nā reira kua kore noa iho rātou e mōhio ki te kōrero. Ki tāku whakaaro, he pai ake mā rātou e whakaako, i te waiho mā ngā Pākehā, ahakoa tō rātou mōhio. He itiiti noa iho ngā Pākehā kei te mōhio, ēngari ko aua mea mōhio, he tino mōhio rawa atu. Nō reira mātua mā, ‘Puritia tō mana, kei riro rā’.
I kaha aroha ai au ki ngā mea o tātou e Maori ana ngā āhua, ēngari kāore e mōhio ana ki te whakarongo, ki te kōrero rānei i tō tatou reo, ki te kōrero maoritia atu, ki te pōtaitia atu rānei mehemea e mōhio ana ki tō tātou reo, kua whakamā. I hē anō ai hoki ko te nuinga o ngā mea kāore nei e kōrero Maori ana, kāore hoki e mōhio ana ki te kōrero pai, tika rānei, i te reo Pākehā; nā reira tēnei hunga i pōruarua ai, ā, i pōriro noa ai tō rātou nei reo. He pai ake te mōhio pai ki te reo kotahi i te kōrero kimikimi noa iho i ngā reo e rua.
Ko mātou o konei, o Rānana nei, kei te hāpai i ngā taonga nei, arā, ngā mahi haka, ēngari, pēnā anō i te wā kāinga nā, torutoru noa iho nei mātou o konei kei te mōhio pai ki tō tātou reo. Ko tētahi tangata kua tekau mā waru tau ki konei, ēngari ko te reo kei te mau tonu i a ia; ko tētahi wahine anō kua tekau tau, ā, kei te mau anō hoki i a ia te reo—ko ēnei tokorua nō Ngāpuhi, ahu pērā atu ki Te Rarawa. I pai ai he āhua pakeke ake rāua, ā, nō te whakatipuranga kōrero Maori, me pēhea kē hoki e wareware ai?
Tēnā, ko ngā mea taetae mai ināianei, korekore kē ana e mōhio ahakoa te kaha Maori o ngā āhua. Tokotoru ngā mea wahine i tae mai, ā, he kōrero Maori katoa, ēngari ko rātou nō Tūhoe ki Ruātoki, ā, e tika ana kia kōrero Maori rātou. Mā koutou kē rā e kite iho ahakoa e tata kē ana mātou o konei ki te rima tekau, kāore kē i tekau ngā mea mōhio pai ki te kōrero Maori, ki te whakarongo rānei, ēngari ka tū ana te hunga nei ki te haka, tau kē ana, ahakoa te kore e mōhio ki te reo!
Otirā, e kare mā, he whakaaro noa iho ēnei nō tētahi o ā koutou mokai e mihi atu nei i tawhiti. He kaha aroha nōku ki te ngaro haere o tō tātou reo me te kaha kuare o ngā mea o tātou e tae mai ana ki konei. Heoi anō mā te wā pea e whakatika tēnei hē, nā te mea kua roa rawa ngā mea pakeke o tātou e noho puku ana. Ko ngā whare pā hoki me huaki kia puritia ai ngā taonga kia kore ai e ngaro, ā, kia kore ai hoki tātou e rite ki ngā kirimangu o ētahi atu whenua.
Ko tēnei e mihi nei, e tangi nei, e poroporoaki nei, nō Ngāti Rānana, nō reira kia ora mai koutou ō mātou whanaunga, ō mātou karangatanga maha. E ō mātou mate kua hinga mai i runga i ngā marae maha o te wā kāinga nā—haere, haere, haere. Ko te aroha atu ki a koutou nui atu; otirā nā ērā o mātou o te wā kāinga koutou i tangi, nā tātou.
Heoi anō e kare mā, kua hoki noa iho aku whakaaro, ki tētahi waiata i whakaakona ki a au, i a au i Taumarunui, e tētahi wahine ngākau nui o reira, arā e Maramena (‘Babs’) Rauhina, ā, ko ngā kupu whakamutunga i pēnei:—‘Otirā te mea nui ko te aroha rā Ki a koutou e.’
The writer of this article, Mr Sam Karetu, comes from Ruatahuna; by descent he is half Tuhoe and half Ngati Kahungunu ki Heretaunga.
He was educated at Victoria University, where he studied Maori, French and German, and at Wellington Teachers' College. After teaching for two years at Taumarunui High School he went to England, where he is now Information Officer with the New Zealand High Commission, New Zealand House.
Pinepine Te Kura Little Tiny Treasure
The editor is grateful to Mr Pei te Hurinui Jones for kindly permitting ‘Te Ao Hou’ to publish the Maori text of ‘Pinepine te kura’ as it appears in the ‘Polynesian Journal’, volume 57, page 288. It is to be reprinted as song no. 215 in the third volume of ‘Nga Moteatea’, edited by Sir Apirana Ngata and Pei te Hurinui Jones, which is to be published shortly. Readers will notice that there are a few variations between this text and the version transcribed by Mr Mervyn McLean on pages 36–9.
Mr Jones' English translation, also given here, is to appear in volume three of ‘Nga Moteatea’. Some small modifications, intended to make it simpler for beginners, are to be found in the text as published here. The song is a very difficult one, and anyone wishing to understand the complex allusions it contains should consult Mr Jones' most valuable textual and historical notes in ‘Nga Moteatea’.
‘Pinepine te kura’ is an oriori. Oriori are chants composed for young children, usually of noble birth. They typically contain complex references to the child's kinship connections, to recent and ancient history, and to myths and gods. Many of these references are now very difficult to understand.
There is space here only to mention briefly a few of the names appearing in ‘Pinepine te kura’. The song is addressed to Te Umurangi, the ‘little tiny treasure’ who is descended from Te Whatuiapiti, a great Ngati Kahungunu chief and warrior. (A famous story concerning Te Whatuiapiti is given on page 16, issue no. 47 of ‘Te Ao Hou’.) Tawhaki is the demi-god who climbed up a vine to the heavens. Apa are gods, the messengers of heaven. The reference to witchcraft recalls the tribal quarrels at Turanganui (the Gisborne district) which led Ngati Kahungunu to migrate south to Heretaunga (Hawkes Bay).
Pinepine Te Kura
Pinepine te kura, hau te kura,
Whanake te kura i raro i Awarua;
Ko te kura nui, ko te kura roa,
Ko te kura o tawhiti na Tuhaepo!
Tenei te tira hou, tenei haramai nei;
Ko te Umurangi, na te Whatuiapiti.
Nau mai, e tama, ki te taiao nei,
Ki' whakangungua koe ki te kahikatoa,
Ki te tumatakuru, ki te tara ongaonga;
Nga tairo ra nahau, e Kupe,
I waiho i te ao nei.
Piki ake, kake ake i te toi huarewa,
Te ara o Tawhaki i piki ai ki runga;
I rokohina atu ra Maikuku-makaka,
Hapai o Maui, he waha i pa mai,
‘Taku wahine purotu!’ ‘Taku tane purotu!’
Korua ko te tau, e.
Little Tiny Treasure
Little tiny treasure, treasure of renown,
The treasure who came from below Awarua;
The noble treasure, the famous treasure,
The treasure from afar off, the treasure of Tuhaepo!
A strange visitor is he, lately arrived here:
He is Te Umurangi, descended from Te Whatuiapiti.
Welcome, O son, welcome to this world of life.
You are to be ritually strengthened with the kahikatoa,
With the tumatakuru and the taraongaonga;
These were the thorny obstructions that you, O Kupe,
Bequeathed unto this world.
Climb up, ascend by the suspended way,
The pathway of Tawhaki when he ascended on high,
Whakakake, e tama, i te kinga o to waha.
No runga rawa koe, no te tahu nui i a Rangi, e tu nei;
Na Rangitu koe, na Rangiroa, na Tane rawa koe,
Na Apa ia koe, na te Aparangiihihi, na te Aparangi i rarapa,
Tukia i Wharererangi, te Ngaruru mai rangi;
Te Matatohikura, ko Maru, ko Apa i te ihonga, Nahana ra koe.
Kaore nei, e tama, ko te wananga i a taua nei,
Te ai i waiho e o kaiure ra,
Nga pure tawhiti, te kaunoti hikahika;
Te kaunoti a to tipuna, a Tura,
I haere ai, i tere i nui ao.
Ka hika i tona ahi, kimihia e Kura;
Ko Tumatere te umu, ka hoki nga kai ki te ao.
Koia Turanganui, he mataawha,
He patu i te tangata kia mate.
Na te mau whaiwhaia hoki ra
I manene ai i te ara,
Ka mate kongenge, ka mania, ka paheke.
Ko te matamata ki te tuahu e makutu mai ra,
Ko Tamairiakinaterangi, te Hekengaorangi.
Ko Taramuru anake e titi kaha mai ra.
E kai o mata ki te kohu ka tatao
I waho o te moana o toka hapuku,
Ko Maunungarara, ko Wharerauaruhe.
Ko Takopaiterangi, ko te Aratotara,
Te Huawaiparae, koia te korori.
Tena ra, e ta ma,
Te wa ki to koutou iramutu,
Tamaua mai nei ki te ua i te kahu.
E kai o mata ki runga Marokotia.
Karokaro i te taturi o to taringa,
Kia areare ai, mo te whakarongo atu
Ki nga ki mai a to tipuna, a Nohoatu,
E makamaka mai ra i a taua anake
Te Arai o Turanga,
Te matenga o Hinerakai i turamatia ai,
I matakitakina ai, koia Hika matakitaki.
Whiti ke mai koe ki ra i nahi nei.
Te ai he mahara, ka mate koe i Awarua;
And there found Maikuku-makaka,
Attended by Hapai of Maui, and greetings were uttered:
‘My beautiful lady!’ ‘My handsome man!’
A tribute for you two, O loved ones.
Ascend upwards, O son, with a full mouth.
You are of the highest, from the apex of the sky above;
You are descended from the Sky-Father, the Far-reaching Sky, you are from Tane himself,
You are from the Apa, from the awesome-Apa-of-the-heavens, the Apa-of-heaven's-lightning-flash;
Enter the dwelling-house-of-the-heavens, it is the rumbling-noise-of-the heavens.
It was Te Matatohikura who begot Maru and Apa-of-the-origin,
And from him are you descended.
Not with us, O son, are the sacred teachings.
They were not imparted by your forebears,
Not even the ancient propitiatory rite, the firestick ceremony;
The firestick of your ancestor Tura,
Which he took in his travels o'er the wide world.
When his fire was alight, it was sought by Kura;
The earth oven, Tumatere, gave food back to the world.
Hence Turanganui of the witchcraft,
For the destruction of mankind.
It was the possession of witchcraft
That beset our pathway with the numbing hazards
Of ailing old age, accidental slipping and sliding.
The priests are at the shrine yonder performing witchcraft;
They are Tamairiakinaterangi and Te Hekengaorangi.
Only Taramuru stands steadfast.
Feast your eyes on the close-pressing mist
Out to sea above the hapuku reefs
Maunungarara and Wharerauaruhe,
The property of Takopaiterangi, Te Aratotara
And Te Huawaiparea, that cunning fellow.
Come now, my sons,
It is time for your nephew
To have the cloak fastened about him.
Feast your eyes on Marokotia.
Clean the wax from your ears
That you may hear, and listen to
The speech of your ancestor Nohoatu,
Who is now addressing us two
From Te Arai of Turanga,
Where Hinerakai died of shame in the torchlight,
Ka manene mai koe ki ro te wai,
Ka u ana ko Hauraki.
Ka pa ko te waha o Tutawirirangi,
‘E ta ma! Ina ia te kai.
Toia ki uta ra, haehaetia ai;
Tunua hai te manawa, ka kainga, ka pau.
No Karotimutimu, no Taurangakoau.’
Taia te waka nui, ka kai ki te kirikiri,
Ka kai ki te ponga,
Ka kai ki te mamaku,
Ka kai ki te ngarara whakawae,
Ka kai ki te pananehu,
E tama, e!
Rudely gazed upon (hence was she called, ‘the Maiden-gazed-upon’).
Belatedly you came but yesterday,
Without thought of danger awaiting you at Awarua;
You slid into the waters
And landed at Hauraki.
Then the voice of Tutawirirangi was heard,
‘O sons! Here is food to eat!
It has been hauled ashore and cut up;
The heart is to be cooked, eaten and consumed—
The heart of Karotimutimu from Taurangakoau.’
Now haul the great canoe until it drags upon the sands,
Let it rest upon the ponga,
Let it rest upon the mamaku,
Let it rest upon the teeming insects,
Let it rest upon the young fern shoots,
O son of mine!
miss harata huanga pohatu, of Ruatoria, has joined the Mauriora Maori Entertainers group in Los Angeles. At present this enterprising group is travelling throughout California, entertaining at schools and colleges.
a play centre and educational centre at Orakei was opened recently by Lady Fergusson, wife of the Governor-General. Hundreds of people were present for the opening, which marks the successful conclusion of two years of fund-raising efforts by the people of Orakei.
miss moehau te uaua of Waimana, a second-year student at Ardmore Teachers' College, last October represented New Zealand at a Christian Youth Conference in the Philippines.
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THE ORAL LITERATURE
OF THE POLYNESIANS
we in the pacific world are heirs to a great literary tradition of which H. and N. Chadwick, in their world survey of oral literatures, could say—
‘A great and very varied amount of cosmological speculation has been recorded from Polynesia. The Polynesians seem to have devoted more attention, and to have exercised greater intellectual activity in connection with the whole subject than any other peoples included in our survey … The Pacific is rich in possession of a vast body of oral prose, which is distributed throughout the whole area … almost every kind of prose narrative is represented in all stages of development … Everywhere we meet with a great wealth of saga, and a high standard of art and technique.’
I hope that you may wish to read, either in the original or in translation, some of the songs and stories with which this article is concerned, and to this end I have added a reading list. Unfortunately many of the source books are out of print, and only obtainable at libraries with good Pacific and New Zealand collections. But some important books are in print and I have included them.
I will begin with a brief outline of the linguistic situation in Polynesia, a situation which makes it possible for the student of any one language to hold the key to the others, and so to what the Chadwicks call ‘one of the two finest oral historical traditions in the world’. Then, after some reference to our sources for Polynesian oral literature, and its scope, I will discuss in more detail some Maori material, illustrating three of the major literary media, namely prose narrative, poetry and genealogical recital.
I will not discuss such minor literary forms as proverbs, riddles, and fables, all of which were popular in some or all of the Polynesian islands. Nor will I discuss oratory, though it was, and is, important everywhere in the area.
The Language of Polynesia
The Polynesian linguistic situation, both historical and contemporary, is reasonably well understood. By the beginning of the Christian era a language called Proto-Polynesian was spoken, most probably in Tonga or Samoa. Proto-Polynesian would not sound particularly strange to the speaker of any contemporary Polynesian language. He would be familiar with its system of five vowels, the total absence of consonant clusters and final consonants, and the rather small inventory of sounds. The almost complete absence of grammatical concordance, and the marking of grammatical categories by particles rather than by inflection would be familiar. And he would recognise much of the vocabulary.
After a time a migration took place, and a colony of Proto-Polynesian speakers was set up in Eastern Polynesia, possibly in the Society Islands or the Marquesas. Whether the migration which occasioned this linguistic split, and the other migrations which succeeded it, was planned or accidental, we are not able to say. But it is clear that after a period of some centuries during which each branch developed independently, colonies of western or eastern Proto-Polynesians were established on practically every habitable island and atoll of the triangle demarcated by Hawaii, New Zealand, and Easter Island, and on many small islands far to the west and north of Polynesia proper.
Western-Polynesia speaking people settled in Tonga, Samoa, Niue, Futuna and Ellice Islands; Proto-East Polynesian speakers settled all of French Polynesia, Hawaii, Easter Island, the Cooks, and New Zealand.
All of these linguistic colonies have developed more or less independently for many centuries. The linguistic picture today is as follows. There are two closely related groups of languages called Eastern Polynesian and Western Polynesian. Any two members of the same group share much basic vocabulary, and there is a considerable degree of mutual intelligibility. If the comparison is made between the two groups, the percentage of basic vocabulary differences is seen to be greater and the degree of mutual intelligibility drops sharply, so that the Maori speaker, for ex-
ample, will understand little Tongan, though he may feel quite at home in Rarotongan.
The possibility of setting up sub-groups within Polynesia does not affect the status of the Polynesian group itself, which is clearly set off, by strictly linguistic criteria, from its nearest relatives, Fijiian, Rotuman, and certain languages of New Hebrides, and the Solomons.
Early Collectors of Folklore
Lacking knowledge of the languages, the first Europeans into Polynesia learned little of its extensive mythology and tradition, and they were unable to judge the content of the songs and dance chants presented for their entertainment. They were unimpressed by the alien and rather uncomplicated music, and saw lewdness rather than beauty in much of the dancing.
Missionaries were the first Europeans in a position to obtain traditional knowledge, and in a few cases we do owe a great deal to the interest of a churchman in the songs and stories of the people among whom he worked. The Rev. Wyatt Gill, for example, having, he tells us, ‘deliberately chosen to study rather than ignore the traditional knowledge of the people,’ collected and published a great number of poetic texts, including a number of the dramatic recitals known as ‘death-talks’, a literary form apparently restricted to the small island of Mangaia in the Southern Cooks.
In Tahiti, William Ellis saw in the legends material ‘rivalling in splendour of machinery and magnificence of achievement the dazzling achievements of the eastern nations.’
In New Zealand, Richard Taylor in the Wanganui-Taranaki area, Colenso in Hawkes Bay, and Wohlers in the South Island made important contributions to our knowledge of Maori lore. But missionaries such as these were rather few. Most were known by their converts to be unsympathetic towards tradition, and to have little interest in what they considered at best ‘puerile beliefs’, at worst ‘works of the devil’.
All missionaries however were concerned with what is quaintly called, ‘reducing the language to writing’. The simple phonology of Polynesian languages presented them with
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comparatively few problems, and within a few years a reasonably satisfactory orthography had usually been established, and the people were learning to write. This they did enthusiastically. In New Zealand, we are told, the grey-beards attended school with the children. Paper was scarce, and the first writing was done on flat boards smeared with grease and sprinkled with ashes, or flax and other smooth leaves.
The Maori and Polynesian Scribes
Before long the newly literate elders were themselves recording traditional lore. They were encouraged in this by interested administrators, who in a number of instances kept them supplied with writing materials. In New Zealand Governor George Grey, Native Secretary Edward Shortland, and Surveyor-General Percy Smith might be mentioned in this connection. In Hawaii Judge Abraham Fornander, and in Samoa the American Consul, William Churchill, played the same role.
The amount of material placed on record by native scribes with or without the encouragement of interested Europeans, is impressive. A Hawaiian published 133 articles on traditional and historical topics in the 1860s. Book-length traditional narratives were written by another Hawaiian and also by a Fijiian. The Grey collection of Maori manuscripts includes about 2,000 pages written by one author, Te Rangikaheke of Ngati Rangiwewehi. And in the Tuamotu Islands, Stimson, who was collecting traditional information there, speaks of informants arriving with bundles of manuscript books.
In New Zealand it was, and is, usual for Maori families to keep manuscript books in which are recorded genealogies, the texts of songs known to members of the family, and local traditions. Many such books have been destroyed accidentally, or through ignorance of their true value, or because they were regarded as tapu, and perhaps malevolent. But great numbers still exist.
In 1893 the interest of a group of amateur ethnographers and folklorists in such material led to the foundation of the Polynesian Society, and a little later the Bishop Museum, in association with the University of Hawaii, began an extensive programme of ethnographic research in Polynesia, a programme which included the collecting and publishing of myth and tradition.
NEW MAORI RECORDINGS ON KIWI
Favourite Hymns in Maori
St Faith's Church Choir, Ohinemutu Splendidly sung and beautifully recorded EA97—45 EP—13s 6d.
Kiri Te Kanawa and Hohepa Mutu New arrangements of well-known Maori Love Songs EA-102—45 EP—13s 6d.
Maori Love Duets
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The Legend of the Bridge
Harry Dansey (narrator) and Te Rangatahi Maori Group A splendid souvenir of Auckland in song and story EA-95—45 EP—13s 6d.
The Legend of Milford Sound
Rev. Kingi Ihaka (narrator) and Te Rangatahi Maori Group Milford Sound in song and story EA-99—45 EP—13s 6d.
Bay of Islands
Harry Dansey (narrator) and Te Rangatahi Maori Group The story of Samuel Marsden's first Christmas service in New Zealand, and two beautiful new songs composed by Willow Macky EA-100—45 EP—13s 6d.
KIWI RECORDS—the Voices and Music of New Zealand—are produced by A. H. and A. W. Reed, 182 Wakefield Street, Wellington. Also at Auckland and Sydney.
A VISIT TO ST. JOSEPH'S
MAORI GIRLS' COLLEGE
like most of the famous Maori boarding schools, St Joseph's Maori Girls' College is a long-established institution with a very considerable history behind it. It is so old, in fact, that already there are at the school some great-granddaughters of early pupils, while the next reunion of past pupils, to be held in 1967, will celebrate the school's centenary.
How does a school with such a long pioneering tradition behind it, cope with rapidly-changing modern conditions: with pupils who are in many ways so different from their elders, and with the modern emphasis on academic attainment?
Opposite: pupils come from all over the country, including the Chatham Islands. These girls are, from left: Tanumi Ihaka, from Kaingaroa; Noeline Mariu, from Tokaanu; Cynthia Ryder, from Ranana on the Wanganui River.
Well, last year 10 girls at St. Joseph's sat for School Certificate, and 10 of them passed. One girl sat for University Entrance, and she was also successful. This year there are 19 sitting School Certificate, four sitting University Entrance, and one sitting Higher School Certificate. To say the least, this is a good record for a school with a total roll of only 130 pupils.
Has the Maori Education Foundation helped? Yes, we were told, very definitely: ‘Girls who need help can get it now. It has made a big difference. Partly because of this, and partly because of the way things are changing anyway, the girls are more ambitious these days.’
The school's original programme of study included the three Rs, homecraft subjects, and cultural subjects such as art, music and singing, as well as religious instruction. It proved to be so well balanced that today the curriculum is still substantially based upon it, though of course many more subjects have been added All girls take Maori throughout the school. Music is also of much importance; to the general
public, St Joseph's Maori Girls' College is best known for its magnificent choral work, and the excellent recordings it has made.
It was thanks to fund-raising concert parties and contributions from past pupils, together with a Golden Kiwi grant, that the school was able to open a fine new swimming pool recently. The school chapel, a beautiful building, was completed a few years ago, and at present other building plans are being carried out, including a new kitchen and laundry.
After they leave, many girls get good office jobs, or else go nursing, dental nursing or teaching: this year, for example, two or three will be enrolling at Ardmore Teachers' College, and the head girl, Cecilia Whatapuhou from Foxton, is going to study at Victoria University (another past pupil, Georgina Kingi from Taneatua, is at present in her second year at Auckland University). Teachers do much to help the girls find suitable positions.
The latest Education Department report, commenting on the valuable work that the Maori church boarding schools are doing, says that on the whole, these schools are still more ‘effective and satisfying’ for Maori pupils than are day schools, and that pupils at boarding school are less likely to leave too soon. The report points out that now that there are nearly 11,000 Maori secondary-school pupils, six out of seven of whom attend day schools, it is important that state day schools should become as adequate in caring for Maori pupils as are the boarding schools.
No doubt the regular, happy routine which is possible in a boarding school has much to do with the schools' success. But the most important thing about St Joseph's, as with similar schools, is that they care so much about their pupils, understand them so well, and do so much to help them.
It is hoped to publish articles on some other Maori boarding schools in future issues.
in hokianga 120 years ago, the artist G. F. Angas made a lovingly detailed copy of the carving illustrated on the opposite page. Angas' drawing, shown above, was published in 1952 in W. J. Phillips' book, ‘Maori Houses and Foodstores’.
Recently this carving came to light in the Auckland Museum. The only carving illustrated by Angas which has survived, it shows that his copy is on the whole an accurate one. Originally over the door of a pataka, the carving measures approximately 17 by 24 inches. In his hands the central figure holds a musket; according to writing on the back of the carving, this is Tamati Waka Nene.
Though Northland once had as many beautiful carvings as any other area, apart from burial chests and treasure boxes there are comparatively few of them that are still in existence. No other Northland carvings similar to this one are known to have survived.
PEOPLE AND PLACES
auditions for the maori cast of the New Zealand Opera Company's forthcoming production of ‘Porgy and Bess’, held throughout the country, produced a very high standard of candidates from whom to select the 35 singers needed.
The photograph above was taken during the auditions at Rotorua. Mr John Thompson, at the piano, is the resident producer of the N.Z. Opera Company, and Mr Ulric Williams, on the far left, is general manager. Among those who came along to listen was Mr Ernie Leonard, Rotorua's public relations officer (third from left).
In the opera the part of Porgy is to be taken by Inia te Wiata, and the part of Sportin' Life will probably be taken by Howard Morrison.
back in june 1961, a hand grenade with the pin out landed by accident in a neighbouring instruction bay in Burnham Military Camp. It hit a wall, bounced on to the chest of Sergeant L. T. Williams (see photo right), and then on to a table.
With an unknown number of seconds separating them from almost certain death. Sergeant Williams swung to the two soldiers he was instructing, tackled them to the floor towards the doorway, and landed himself on top of them.
A moment later the grenade exploded.
Sergeant Williams who is from Masterton, still has a few pieces of it in his body, but
his injuries were not serious, and two months later he left for Malaya with the 1st Battalion.
In the last Queen's Birthday Honours, Sergeant Williams received the award of the British Empire Medal (Military Division). Before he was formally invested with his award by the Governor-General, Sir Bernard Fergusson, Sgt. Williams was feeling somewhat apprehensive—‘But His Excellency said a few words that meant a lot to me,’ he said. ‘He spoke in Maori to say, “my heart swells for you”.’
fifteen-year-old Donald Uatuku (see photo above), a pupil at Wairoa College, recently won the New Zealand Junior Light Welterweight title in this year's junior amateur championships.
Donald is the son of Mr Waewae Uatuku and Mrs Mapihi Uatuku of Te Reinga Pa, near Wairoa. His boxing coaches are Mr Mokomoko and Mr S. Duncan.
This photograph of him was sent in by a neighbour, Mrs M. A. Wright, who says, ‘I well remember the day when one of the lads from the school slipped and fell fifty feet over the Te Reinga falls. That boy owes his life to Donald. Nobody else would have known where to run. Nobody else could have shot out his foot at just the right spot so that the drowning boy could grasp it and be hauled ashore. Donald knew the exact spot and he did the only thing that could have saved his mate. And did he boast? Not a bit. It was all in a day's march to Donald.’
every tuesday evening Pakeha adults in Gisborne spend two hours practising action songs. poi dances and stick games (some of them are shown performing in the photo above, right). Mrs Maka Jones of Gisborne tutors the classes in collaboration with Mr Koro Dewes, a lecturer in the Extension Department, University of Auckland. From March to August of this year, the first class consisted of 19 adult students. Enthusiasm was such that when a second course was instituted from August to November, 40 people enrolled.
Additional activities of the classes have been the making of headbands and bodices, the acquisition of piupiu, the entertainment of parents at a social evening at Mangapapa School, participation in Gisborne's annual Maori cultural competitions and close collaboration with the Savage Club.
Mr Jones' services have also been keenly sought by the children of Mangapapa Primary School and students at Gisborne Boys' and Girls' High Schools.
At the University of Auckland, classes in Maori culture are in their second year. Last year Mrs Taku Trotman and her assistant Mrs Jean Wikiriwhi pioneered adult education classes in this most popular activity. Designed for those with little or no knowledge of Maori culture, the set of twenty lessons aims at teaching four action songs, three poi dances and two stick games. Teachers generally, specialist teachers, social workers and housewives have been the most enthusiastic students. In Auckland this year, so many people have enrolled that the tutor Mrs Pare Irwin has had to cope with two large classes on the same night.
four-hundred people attended the tangi at Te Kao last September of the late Mrs Bertha Frances Watt, who was aged 100.
Mrs Watt, a Pakeha, taught at Te Kao school with her husband for 20 years. After they retired they stayed on at Te Kao, advising and helping the Maori people of the district, who regarded Mrs Watt as an elder of the Aopouri tribe and affectionately called her ‘our mother’.
In the photograph above, taken at a func-
the first christian service held in New Zealand was conducted by the Rev. Samuel Marsden on Christmas Day 1814. To mark the 150th anniversary of this event, the Rev. Canon R. H. Rangiihu, vicar of Wairoa, together with Mrs Rangiihu (see photo above), has gone to England on exchange with the Rev. E. R. Marsden, great-grandson of the Rev. Samuel Marsden.
Mr Marsden is coming to New Zealand to take part in anniversary celebrations here.
On 20 December, Canon Rangiihu will preach in Westminster Abbey, and he and his wife will spend Christmas at Pendeen, Cornwall, the parish of which the Rev. E. R. Marsden is vicar.
During their stay, Canon Rangiihu will present to Queen Elizabeth, as a token of the harmony between Maori and Pakeha, an historic mere which for many generations has been in the possession of the Maori people of Wairoa.
the first maori dancer to compete in a world amateur ballroom dancing championship, Mr Joe King, with Mrs King (see photo left) recently represented New Zealand at the world championships in Sydney.
Mr King comes from Panguru, and he and his wife now live at Christchurch. They have a long list of dancing successes behind them, including almost all the New Zealand titles.
a six-girl gymnastic team from Whirinaki, Northland (shown above with their teachers, Mr and Mrs Pyester) won first place in their section of this year's Auckland schools gymnastic competitions. Their performance was described by experts as being fantastic, in view of their school's small size (there were only nine girls in the eligible age group for their section).
Outside school hours the girls worked hard preparing for the contest, and the trip to Auckland—the first one they had made—was their reward.
at hamilton's recent highly successful Maori Cultural Festival, the Waihirere group (see photo below) won the £150 first prize with their senior party and third prize with their juniors. Second place went to the Gisborne High School junior party, and the Ohau, Taheke and St Faith's teams, all from Rotorua, won fourth, fifth and sixth prizes. A special prize went to the Te Rau Aroha primary group from Auckland. The Festival was organised by the Ngati Hamutana Club and Hamilton Jaycees, and was sponsored by Waikato Breweries.
here is news of some more Maori clubs; information about other ones will be published in the next issue. Meanwhile—if you are a club secretary and have not yet given Te Ao Hou details of your club, please send us a note. Te Ao Hou's address is P.O. Box 2390, Wellington.
Ngati Poneke Young Maori Club Wellington
The club is interdenominational, and all persons interested are cordially invited to come along to any of the practice evenings.
The club, a branch of the Ngati Poneke Association, has been in existence without a break since 1936. Meetings are held every Monday evening from 8.30 p.m. to 10.30 p.m. in its clubrooms in the Hotel Cecil Buildings, Lambton Quay. Members practice choir work, action songs, poi and haka, and stick games. During the evening supper is served.
The club is most active in entertaining different groups and organisations, and performs publicly in aid of a wide variety of worthy causes, as it is felt that such performances can do much to further mutual under-standing, both cultural and social, between Maori and Pakeha.
In the Wellington Competitions Society Festival this year, Ngati Poneke won the £100 first prize in the ‘Dominion’ Maori Choir Contest and was placed second in the action song section. At last October's Coronation Celebrations at Ngaruawahia, the club won the modern choir contest.
During the past year other activities have included several interesting talks on Maori subjects by the Rev. K. Ihaka, and a number of instructional talks on the Maori language by Mr R. Bristowe.
Altogether, the club's busy programme for the past year included 25 concerts, 25 other functions, and attendance at the weddings of four members and former members.
Recently the club received a grant of £150 from the Maori Purposes Fund Board to assist in the purchase of new piupiu.
Committee members: Mr F. B. Katene (president), Mr D. T. Manunui (vice-president), Mr W. C. Nathan (secretary), Mrs M. Thompson (treasurer), Mrs J. Ferris, Mrs L. Nikora, Miss J. Albert, Mr K. Nikora, Mr W. Gray, Mr B. Hammond, Mr M. Taylor. Men's leader: Mr D. T. Manunui. Women's leader: Mrs C. Kite. Choir conductor: Mr B. Rourangi.
Address for correspondence: The Secretary, P.O. Box 3674, Wellington.
Ngati Hamutana Hamilton
This club was originally founded in 1933 by a group of Maori and Pakeha (among them, the late Dame Hilda Ross), with the object of promoting closer social relations and better understanding between the two races in the Hamilton district. The constitution states that one of the aims of the club is to work toward the building of a Maori community centre which is to be for the use of both Maori and Pakeha. During the war the club was inactive, but it was re-formed some 12 years ago.
At present there is an action-song and choral group with about 30 active members, and there are also many more financial members who take part in such other cultural and sporting activities as lectures on subjects of Maori interest, basketball, badminton, bowls, rugby and league football.
Most members are Maori, but there are many Pakeha members also; this year, as it happens, half of the members of the club's executive are Maori and half of them are Pakeha.
Among its other activities, the club is actively concerned with raising funds for its projected community centre.
Last August, Ngati Hamutana, together with members of Hamilton's Jaycees (and with the sponsorship of Waikato Breweries), organised the outstandingly successful Hamilton Maori Cultural Festival at which competing teams from far and near performed before packed audiences.
The club's practice nights are held every Tuesday evening at Frankton Town Hall.
President and Secretary: Canon Wi Huata, 326 Peachgrove Road, Hamilton.
Vice-president: Mr J. Mitchie.
what other word than the over-worked ‘Integration’ can be used to describe Wikitoria, the Victoria University Maori Club? The president, Geoff Henry, is a Cook Islander, the treasurer, Paul Reiher, is a Gilbertese Islander of German descent, the secretary, Mac Burt, is a Pakeha, the club captain Pae Ruha, is a Maori. Amongst others on the committee is a young man of Dutch descent.
AUTHENTIC MAORI CHANT part two
To avoid any appearance of commercialising the songs, Mr McLean has declined to accept payment for his work in preparing this series.
the song selected for transcription in this issue is the Ngati Kahungunu oriori (or lullaby) ‘Pinepine te kura’.
This oriori is an extraordinary and beautiful example of rhythmic organisation of a high order, with melody in a subordinate role. It will well repay close study by the reader
Except in the leader sections and at the end of each repetition of the basic melody, the chant is intoned generally on one note only.
During the first two lines the metre is not properly established but after this, each repetition of the basic melody consists of two quite straightforward bars or phrases of 5/4 time. The end of the first 5/4 bar is marked throughout by two repeated crotchets: and the second 5/4 bar throughout contains the cadential or ‘drag’ figure:
Here, the descent to D and the slurred quavers E — D mark the end of each repetition of the basic melody. Except for this terminal melisma the song is syllabic—i.e. one note per syllable—all the way through.
At times, extra beats are added to accommodate words which cannot easily be sung within the ten beats of the two 5/4 bars. These added beats are nearly always inserted between the two 5/4 bars. That is to say, first come the two marker crotchets at the end of the first 5/4 bar, then come the added beats, then the five beats of the second 5/4 bar. Except in the first two lines, an attempt has been made to indicate added beats by enclosing them in brackets. Usually, their rhythms are simple repetitions of the preceding pattern.
It can be seen that the two crotchets which mark the end of the first 5/4 bar of each repetition and the ‘drag’ figure which marks the end of the second, can be used by the singer as reference or orientation points. Between them they provide unity and stability. Variety is introduced by the very flexible rhythmic patterns which characterize the rest of the song.
This song, except for its somewhat unusual length, is perhaps easier than most to learn, but the reader will find that taking part in a performance—even singing with the record—can be an exhilarating experience.
In the transcription, the first two repetitions of the basic melody occupy one line of manuscript each, and thereafter there are two repetitions to each line of manuscript. The end of each repetition is indicated by a solid bar line and the midpoint is shown either by notes within brackets or by a dotted barline.
Like the songs whose music was printed in the last issue, the text of ‘Pinepine te Kura’ has been several times published. The version here transcribed is Side 2 of Kiwi record EC— 8 45 E.P. (A. H. & A. W. Reed, 182 Wakefield Street, Wellington) and was recorded by the Maori Purposes Fund Board. It is sung by a Ngati Porou party but the name of the leader and the date and place of recording are unfortunately not given. The text and explanation in Maori are given in a leaflet with the record and will be found with English translation as Song No. 215 in ‘Nga Moteatea’ part three, edited by Apirana Ngata and Pei te Hurinui, which is due for publication soon. The song has also been published in John McGregor's ‘Popular Maori Songs’ (1893) pp. 9 and 11, and can be found in variant form in Elsdon Best's ‘Tuhoe’ Vol. 1 (1925) p. 599, and James Cowan's ‘The Maori Yesterday and Today’ (1930) p. 106.
In the transcription, conventional notation has been used with the following additional signs:
(-) = Approximately quarter tone flat
= Terminal glissando.
A translation of this song appears on page 20.
IN OTHER LANDS
it gives a new zealander a shock to walk through Papeete, capital of Tahiti, and hear Maoris talking fluent French. They are not Maoris of course, they are native Tahitians; but from their appearance one feels they would not be out of place in any town or city in this country. Strolling through Honolulu one encounters Maoris again, in this case talking with a marked American twang. Yet these are superficial differences between Pacific peoples, imposed by contact with the world of the white man. Such differences only serve to highlight the brotherhood which exists between the people of Polynesia and the marked affinities, cultural and physical, between the inhabitants of this vast area of small islands which includes New Zealand.
Polynesian Cultural Centre
At Laie, opposite Honolulu on the island of Oahu (though not the largest of the Hawaiian Islands, this is the one to which most tourists go), the Mormon Church has completed an ambitious project known as the Polynesian Cultural Centre. It is a showplace where the heritage and customs of the Polynesia of yesterday and of today are presented in an authentic setting to the people who, six days a week, visit it in their hundreds, sometimes in their thousands. With jagged, cloud-wreathed mountain peaks as a natural backdrop, young Maoris from New Zealand, along with their first cousins from Samoa, Tonga, Tahiti and also Fiji, have come together to present ancient arts, crafts, dances and building techniques.
During the summer tourist season (from July to September) the buildings in the village are peopled by islanders demonstrating and lecturing on various aspects of their culture. The Samoan exhibit features a council house, a community meeting-house (said to be the largest ever built) and a sleeping house. The Fijians have built a chief's house, a council building and a commoner's dwelling. The centrepiece of Tahiti's exhibit is a spectacular chief's house made in the shape of a perfect cone. There is also a Tahitian Queen's home, a community council house and a small fishing
Miniature Maori Village
To the wandering Kiwi however, main interest centres on the miniature Maori village, entered through a carved gateway flanked by a fence of sharpened stakes. The main meeting-house is as fine a structure as could be found anywhere in New Zealand. Of the other two Maori buildings, one serves as a museum for a representative collection of Maori artifacts, while the other is a smaller carved meeting-house in which films on New Zealand are shown. On the nearby lake is a carved Maori canoe.
This last summer season, a group of young people from the Mormon Church of New Zealand were at Laie at their own expense, during the day working around the village and in the evening providing the grand finale at the Polynesian Concert staged nightly in the Cultural Centre's fine outdoor auditorium. Of the forty or so members of this group, about a third were formerly in the Te Arohanui Party which toured the United States with such success last year.
At the invitation of John Elkington, the party's leader, and Michael Grilikhes, director of the Centre, I was able to spend the best part of two days at Laie watching and meeting the group. During the afternoons they rehearsed around the meeting-house, made pois and carried on other crafts in sight of the public and chatted freely about their own country with any who stopped to talk. In their personal contacts with tourists, who are mainly American, these young people must have provided thousands of pounds of free publicity for our country.
Spectacular Polynesian Concert
It is at night however, when the cool breezes blow in from the sea, that the Centre really comes to life. From Monday to Saturday during the season the Centre presents a spectacular review in which concert parties from Hawaii, Tonga, Samoa, Tahiti, Fiji and of course New Zealand provide their distinctive contribution. Usually, Maori students from the nearby Mormon University provide Maori items but during my visit the Te Arohanui Party was performing. The audience sits under a grand-stand-like roof, separated from the outdoor stage by an artificial stream some five yards wide. Behind the stage is a towering back-drop of natural rock laced by artificial waterfalls which can be illuminated in all colours by concealed lighting. When it is time for the ‘scene’ on stage to change, a coloured curtain of water leaps high into the air between audience and performers.
The Te Arohanui contribution was a fitting climax to a great show. There was no concession to spectacle in their repertoire but the dances and songs were enhanced (as they always are for entertainment purposes) by effective lighting, planned entrances and exits and uninterrupted performance.
In Los Angeles I stayed with the Mauriora Entertainers, now renamed ‘The Kiwis’ in deference to the American public. This young and enterprising group of entertainers—Dawn Nathan of Wellington, Ratu and his brother Whiro Tibble of Tikitiki, Kim Porou of Gisborne and Taite Kupa and Agnes Paipa of Hastings—have been performing on a modest scale, gradually becoming better known in the Hollywood entertainment world. A recording made by the group is scheduled for American release shortly. There are a number of other Maoris in business in and around Los Angeles including Eleanor Hirai, formerly of Wellington, who now runs a restaurant known as ‘The Candy Clown’.
The Field is Open
In the United States there is of course a great deal of ignorance about New Zealand. Nevertheless amongst educated Americans there is lively interest in our country. Negroes in particular ask searching questions about race relationships and the present state of Maori cultural preservation. Te Arohanui Concert Party by its personal and television appearances has stirred a glimmering of interest in Maori culture and entertainment, and the field is open for other cultural groups to follow the lead of this party. The Americans are partial to spectacular and unusual entertainment and persons experienced in the entertainment world with whom I spoke feel that properly produced presentations of Maori entertainment would be well received.
Capta'n Alan Armstrong, Te Ao Hou's record critic, is at present studying in the United States.
“Kaua e whakatauhou tetahi ki tetahi. Ko koutou nga hua o te rakau kotahi, ko koutou hoki nga rau o te manga kotahi.” Baha'u'llah.
“Me whakakotahi te rawhiti me te uru kia whiwhi tahi ai tetahi ki tetahi i nga rawa e hapa ana. Ma tenei hononga e taea ai te nohoanga tuturu o te tangata i tenei ao, a, ma te taha tinana hoki ka kitea te taha wairua.” Abdu'l-Baha.
“Regard ye not one another as strangers. Ye are the fruits of one tree, and the leaves of one branch.” Baha'u'llah.
“The east and west must unite to give each other what is lacking. This union will bring about a true civilization, where the spiritual is expressed and carried out in the material.” Abdu'l-Baha.
BAHA'I FAITH BOX 1906 AUCKLAND
Books about the MAORI
Rebecca and the Maoris
Rebecca is a gay and graceful Maori girl—sociable, sporting, devoted to her family. Gregory Riethmaier's action photographs, with brief text make a specially interesting book. Over 100 photographs. 27s. 6d.
NICKY AND WI By Iris Wallace
A true story about Nicky and his friend, Wi. The story of Nicky's zoo, Joefiss the magpie and other pets. Wonderful 2 colour illustrations by Peter McIntyre. A book for children to treasure and enjoy.16s.
THE N.Z. MAORI IN COLOUR
One of the most popular works about the Maori people. Text by Harry Dansey with colour plates by K. & J. Bigwood. 52 pages of colour, showing Maori life, custom, costume, at work and at play. 25s
FROM ALL BOOKSELLERS –
THE ORAL LITERATURE
OF THE POLYNESIANS
The Journal of the Polynesian Society and the Memoirs and Bulletins of the Bishop Museum were the main publishing outlets for the great body of vernacular texts collected from over all the Pacific during the first half of this century.
The bulk of this legendary material was in the form of prose narrative. In New Zealand and probably elsewhere it may be conveniently divided into two categories: myth, and tradition. Unlike the traditions, the myths are known widely throughout Polynesia. They are set in the remote past, their characters are gods and immortals, and they include stories concerning the origin of the universe and the genesis of gods and of men.
In New Zealand those earliest myths which tell of the evolution of the world are expressed only in cryptic, genealogical form. A number of these cosmogonic genealogies, as they were called by Elsdon Best, have been recorded. In some a sequence of periods of chaos is succeeded by periods of darkness which ultimately gave way to light; in some evolution is likened to the growth of a tree, or to the development of a child in the womb. In other parts of Polynesia, notably the Tuamotus, supplementary narrative was added in explanation of the genealogies.
The contrast between the evolutionary view revealed in these genealogies, and the Christian belief in an act of creation, was clear to Maori converts. For example, Te Rangikaheke's manuscript entitled ‘The Sons of Heaven’ says, ‘According to European beliefs, God made Heaven and Earth. According to Maori belief however, Heaven and Earth were themselves the source. The Maori people have only one origin, the Sky which stands above and the Earth which lies below.’
The manuscript goes on to explain how from this union of Heaven and Earth there sprang the Departmental gods—the Ocean God, the God of Mankind (who was, appropriately enough, also the God of War), and so on. Next in time came the heroes, such as Maui and Tawhaki, demi-gods known throughout the Polynesian area.
In New Zealand at least, there was nothing particularly sacred or esoteric in the myths concerning these heroes. The Maui stories in
particular were spoken of as ‘winter nights' tales.’
The Maui Myth
A short extract, literally translated from an early manuscript, will illustrate the nature of these stories. The incident described is the last exploit of Maui, his unsuccessful attempt to pass through the body of the Goddess of the Underworld.
Maui's father said to him, ‘My son, I know that you are a bold fellow, and that you have achieved many things. But I fear that there is one who will defeat you.’
‘And who might that be?’ said Maui.
‘Your ancestress, the Goddess of the Underworld.’
‘Is her strength that of the sun?’ asked Maui. ‘I trapped him, and beat him and sent him on his way. Is he greater than the sea, which is greater than the land? Yet I dragged land from it. Now then let me seek life or death.’
The father replied, ‘You are right, my last born, and the strength of my old age. Go then, seek your ancestress, who lives at the edge of the sky.’
‘What does she look like? asked Maui.
‘The red glow of the western sky emanates from her,’ said the father.
‘Her body is that of a human being, but her eyes are greenstone, her hair is sea-kelp, and her mouth is that of a barracouta.’
Maui took with him the smallest birds of the forest and set off towards the west. They found the Goddess of the Underworld lying asleep, with her legs apart, and they could see sharp flints of greenstone and obsidian set between her thighs.
Maui said to his companions, ‘When I enter the body of this old woman, don't laugh. But wait until I reappear again from her mouth. Then you may laugh all you like.’
‘You will be killed,’ was all the birds could say.
‘If you laugh too soon I will be killed,’ said Maui. ‘But if I can pass right through her body I shall live, and she will be the one to die.’
He prepared himself, winding the cord of his battle-club firmly round his waist, and casting aside his garment. Behold his skin, mottled like that of a mackerel with the black pigment of the many toothed tattooing-chisel!
As Maui began his task the cheeks of the watching birds puckered with suppressed mirth. His head and shoulders had disappeared when the fantail could hold back no longer, and burst into laughter. The old woman awoke, opened her eyes, closed her legs, and cut Maui completely in two.
Now Maui was the first man to die, and because he failed in his self-appointed task, all men are mortal. And the Goddess retains her position at the entrance to the spirit-world.
The Tribal Traditions
Traditions are concerned with mortals, not with the gods and heroes of the myths. They are genealogically placed not more than thirty generations from the present, and knowledge of them is usually quite local. Maori traditions, for example, are not known outside of New Zealand.
The earliest Maori traditions concern the discovery and settlement of this country. The earliest recorded version of such a tradition was told to the missionary Hamlin at Orua Bay, on the south shore of the Manukau Harbour, in 1842. Hamlin published the story in, of all places, the ‘Tasmanian Journal of Science and Technology’. It is an account of the arrival of the Tainui canoe, in essentially the same form that it would be told by an elder of the Tainui tribes today.
By the late 1840's (as I have already mentioned), literate Maoris, realising that the decline of the indigenous culture was inevitable, were themselves recording what they knew of the old beliefs. We are indebted to John White, who collected much of this material in his ‘Ancient History of the Maori’, a magnificent six-volume collection, now unfortunately out of print and prized by book collectors, who will pay forty pounds for a set.
The migration and settlement traditions are thought by many people, including, I believe, everyone who has worked intensively with them, to have much historical value. The wide distribution of much of the mythology is conclusive proof that Polynesians were able to preserve legendary material for many centuries. So it is not unreasonable to suppose that settlement traditions, genealogically dated at only five or six hundred years ago, and of obvious functional importance in the social and political organisation of the people, were maintained with equal fidelity, and reflect actual events.
In the case of those whose organisation was not completely shattered by the inter-tribal and inter-racial wars that succeeded colonisation, continuous traditional records have been recorded, told in terms of great men and great
battles and tied in with genealogies. It has been demonstrated by Dr Robertson of Kawhia that in some cases the internally consistent and continuous record extends six hundred years into the past; in other cases it is fragmentary and discontinuous prior to about 1600.
The land courts played an important part in eliciting and recording traditional information. Given as evidence of conquest, occupation, or customary title in land claims, the stories were tested in cross-examination by rival claimants, and the proceedings of the court were usually taken down both in Maori and in translation. The resulting very large body of material, stored in the District Land Courts and in microfilm at Wellington, has barely been scratched by the folk-lorist, the culture-historian, or the ethnographer.
Prose narrative is common to most folk literatures, but the development of genealogical recital as a literary device is a feature peculiar in the Pacific to Polynesian cultures. The social function of genealogies in determining rank and succession was of course important; and when a narrator was telling traditions, the recital of an appropriate pedigree, linking the main character with the narrator, demonstrated his right to tell the story and documented its authenticity.
But as we have seen in the case of the cosmogonic genealogists, what appears at first sight to be a list of names set out in genealogical sequence, is in fact a cryptic literary form (in this case, rehearsing the evolution of the universe).
In New Zealand, and presumably elsewhere, there are several named techniques of genealogical recitation. In one, only a single line of descent is given; in another, marriages are added; and in a third, collateral lines are included. In addition there was a considerable specialist vocabulary concerned with genealogy, which included of course the terminology of kinship.
There is a well-known cartoon which shows an anthropologist, notebook in hand, quizzing an informant from some unidentifiable but savage-looking culture. The informant is saying, ‘I don't know what I would call my mother's brother's daughter's child—and what's more, I don't give a damn!’
The Polynesian genealogist, however, defi-
KILLING IS JUSTIFIED–IN SELF-DEFENCE!
Flies carry dangerous diseases and spread them to your food and eating utensils. Safeguard yourself and your family by taking common-sense precautions: — Don't leave grass cuttings to rot. Don't leave refuse lying about. Keep food and utensils covered. Use traps, fly poisons and sprays — kill flies wherever you can.
issued by the new zealand department of health
nitely did give a damn about kinship terms, and his ability to handle concepts of kinship was commensurate with his interest. In Hawaii he was a professional. His duties included deliberate but subtle falsification of pedigrees to enhance the position of his own ruler. In this capacity he was known as ‘the wash-bowl of the high chief’.
In New Zealand, where a chief's authority was not absolute, but was delegated to him by the adult males of rangatira status, professional genealogists were unknown, and falsification of genealogies was not tolerated. Every adult was expected to know his own lines of descent and to be able to recite them.
The recognised expert, moreover, was expected to be something of a walking de Brett, knowing not only the descent lines of his own group but those of neighbouring tribes, and in particular those lines which, through intergroup marriages, facilitated the social and political intercourse of different tribes. Such an expert delighted in testing his knowledge against that of others in reciting the lines of men, which were said to be ‘as many, and as far-reaching, as the runners of a gourd-plant’.
The setting up of the land-court, where claims were decided largely on genealogical evidence, must have caused such an expert to lick his lips. The case is quoted of a court-sitting at which an old man took four full days to recite the genealogies of a single sub-tribe, and one can't help wondering how much the protracted nature of land-court proceedings owed to the love of genealogical wrangling.
Now let us turn from genealogical recital to poetry. In Polynesia as a whole, spoken verse was unknown. Poetry was always chanted or sung. In Eastern Polynesia moreover, purely linguistic devices such as rhyme or assonance were not consciously used to distinguish verse from prose. The metre and the line divisions were determined by musical features, not by linguistic ones, and the prosodics of Polynesian poetry can hardly be studied apart from the musical medium.
Stylistically however, the language of poetry differs from that of prose. Extensive use of synonyms, contrastive opposites, and repeated key-words are usual. Archaic words are used, some of which have lost any specific reference, and acquired a religious mystique in poetic diction. Abbreviated, sometimes cryptic utterances, and the use of certain grammatical constructions not found in prose, are also common.
The frequent metaphorical extension of word-meanings, and the widespread use of non-obvious symbolism, adds to the difficulty and also to the charm of Polynesian poetic texts. In Marquesan lovesongs for example, lovers are variously symbolised by night-moths, garlands of flowers, pearl-shells, ripe breadfruit, the masts of ships, the trade winds, coconuts, and so on. Perhaps these symbols are not too strange. We may even be able to hazard guesses as to which are male and which female. But who would guess that the happiness of mutual love would be symbolised by rain, and the heat of passion, by cold night winds? Yet such is the case in the hot dry areas of Hawaii, where rain and rain-bearing winds were more valued than sunshine and blue skies, and where ‘the glories of Hanalei are its driving storms’.
As with prose texts, the greatest amount of Polynesian poetic material has been collected in New Zealand. The most important work, both in quantity and quality, has been done by two Maori scholars, Sir Apirana Ngata and Pei te Hurinui Jones. We are particularly indebted to Sir Apirana for the first attempt at a classification of Maori songs and dance-chants.
This is the only useful classification of a body of Polynesian poetry known to me. Its success is due to the complete break-away from traditional literary categories, which are replaced with a classification based entirely on the form and content of the Maori material itself. Some of Ngata's song and chant types are considered in the following sections.
Haka, or war-chants, are well known to New Zealanders. They are rhythmically shouted chants of defiance. The texts are often archaic and obscure, and sometimes obscene. The total number of haka is not large, and while modification of existing texts still takes place, the latest original compositions probably date from the time of the inter-racial wars.
Karakia are rapidly intoned ritual chants. The texts are usually archaic and difficult. In some cases it can be demonstrated that the form of words has been transmitted unchanged from Polynesia. This appears to be the case with parts of the karakia for the house dedication ceremony, one of the few traditional
rites still performed. It opens with the words ‘Beat the kawa, water the kawa’. This appears to have little meaning, until it is realised that the word ‘Kawa’ refers to the kava plant of Polynesia, the root of which is beaten to a powder and mixed with water to form a narcotic drink which is of ritual importance.
During the nineteenth century a large number of karakia were revealed to the prophets of pai marire, and other religious cults that developed about that time. Some of these are still performed. They probably mark the end of the karakia as a productive literary form, but the particular technique of chanting they employed is still used in the ritual of certain Maori churches.
An an example of karakia, I will quote from the dedicatory ritual for a male child, which translates as follows:
‘Dedicated with the sacred water of the God of War,
May you grow up and capture men, and climb mountains.
Grow up, and fight and rage. Kill men and take forts.
Defeat war-parties. Be fierce and brave to bear the club and spear.
Grant it to this child that it may be so.
Grow up and produce food, and build great houses, and canoes.
Summon the people to make nets for you, and to fish for you.
Grant it to this child that it may be so.’
These fast vigorous chants with impromptu (but conventionalised) gestures and facial expressions, were occasional songs, usually composed to reply to gossip of a slanderous nature. The reply took the rather curious form, not of denying the gossip, but of recounting the lineal and lateral kinship connections of the author. The implication appears to have been that a person with such noble connections could not possibly have been guilty of the charges preferred.
A patere often takes its audience on a tour of New Zealand, with introductions to the principal chiefs of the time and genealogical excursions into the past. It is at once a gazetteer and a Who's Who for the period of its composition. Interspersed with this sort of information are interesting remarks on what the singer will do to her detractors when she meets them. I should perhaps mention that all patere were composed by women.
The chants called oriori were composed for young children, generally by doting grandparents. Typically they commence with some wry reference to the vocal abilities of the child. A well known oriori begins as follows:
‘So the young fellow is crying for food? Just hang on a minute, and I'll send a moa To fetch a whale ashore for him to eat.’
This bantering tone is not maintained. The song continues as a serious attempt to impart knowledge necessary to the education of a wellborn child. Kinship connections, lines of descent, myths and traditions, are all worked into the texts of oriori in a very complex way. As if realising the difficulties of such a text one composer has included a ‘square-off’ to be used by slow learners.
‘When you are asked by strangers the details of your descent, you may reply:
“I am only a child, and forgetful,
But this I do know,
Tainui, Te Arawa, Mataatua, Kurahaupo and Tokomaru,
These were the canoes of my ancestors,
Who paddled across the great sea …”.’
These laments for the dead are set to a short musical theme which is repeated throughout the song, a theme which contrasts markedly in its slow tempo and definite melody with the rapid chanting of the patere and oriori.
Many hundreds of these songs have been recorded, varying widely in their length, composition and content. It is fairly usual for them to begin with a reference to some aspect of nature, often something which is taken as a portent of death:
‘The lightning flashes, and forks above the mountain peak.
It is the sign of death.’
The grief occasioned by death is likened to rain, to the moaning of the sea, or to biting winds. And loneliness is a constantly recurring theme.
The circumstances of the death are often mentioned, and if there is a motive, as in the case of death in battle or by witchcraft, plans for revenge may be outlined.
Waiata aroha or love songs are musically indistinguishable from laments, and indeed their whole tone is mournful, since they are invari-
ably concerned with lost or unrequited love. The composers were always women. The remembered, or imagined, delights of love may be mentioned frankly or hidden in obscure sexual symbolism which is still incompletely understood.
None of the song types I have mentioned are still composed, though a few laments appear to date from as late as the first world war. At about this time they were replaced by a new dance form, the action song, which is familiar to anyone who has attended a Maori gathering of any kind. The action song owes its actions to the traditional patere, its words to the old laments and lovesongs, and its music to Tinpan Alley. Great numbers of action songs are composed every year. They spread rapidly throughout New Zealand through the Maori residential schools, and through the many gatherings which feature cultural competitions. Whatever reservations one may have about the borrowing of hit tunes, the action song must, I think, be regarded as the only current New Zealand folk art, Maori or Pakeha.
The traditional song-types are still sung at ceremonial gatherings, and several thousand have been recorded either textually or on tape.
Mervyn McLean, a research student at Otago University, has recorded on tape more than 800 items during the last two years, and is working on a musical analysis of this material. Pei te Hurinui Jones is continuing his work of collecting, annotating and translating song texts, and the third volume of ‘Nga Moteatea’ will be published shortly with a preface by Mervyn McLean. So these two scholars, a Maori and a Pakeha, heed the words of their predecessor who many years ago had urged New Zealanders to preserve this material, saying in his characteristically blunt way,
‘These flowers bloom at your doorsteps,
Why don't you pick them?’
A Reading List
The Growth of Literature: Volume 2, Part 3, The Oral Literature of Polynesia. By H. M. and N. K. Chadwick. New York. 1940.
Voices on the Wind (Translations of Polynesian myths and chants). By Katherine Luomala. Bishop Museum Press. 1955 (in print).
Maui of a Thousand Tricks: his Oceanic and European Biographers. By Katherine Luomala. Bishop Museum Bulletin 198. 1949.
Tuamotuan Legends (English and some Tuamotuan texts). Bishop Museum Bulletin 148. 1937.
The Legends of Maui and Tahaki (English and Tuamotuan texts). Bishop Museum Bulletin 127. 1934.
Kepelino's Traditions of Hawaii (English and Hawaiian texts).
Selections from Fornander's Hawaiian Antiquities and Folk-lore (Hawaiian and English texts). By S. H. Elbert (ed.). 1959 (in print).
Ancient Tahiti (English and Tahitian texts). By Te Uira Henry. Bishop Museum Bulletin no. 48. 1948.
Myths and Song from the South Pacific (English and Mangaian texts). By William Wyatt Gill. 1876.
Nga Moteatea: he maramara rere no nga waka maha. (The songs: scattered pieces from many canoe areas). 2 volumes. Collected by A. T. Ngata and translated by A. T. Ngata and P. H. Jones (in print).
Nga Mahi a Nga Tupuna (The deeds of the ancestors). By Sir George Grey.
Polynesian Mythology by Sir George Grey (in print).
Ancient History of the Maori by John White.
A Treasury of Maori Folklore by A. W. Reed (in print).
Selected Readings in Maori by Bruce Biggs, Pat Hohepa and S. M. Mead. (Obtainable from Secretary, Anthropology Department, University of Auckland.) 1962.
He Kohikohinga Aronui by Bruce Biggs and S. M. Mead. (Obtainable from Secretary, Anthropology Department, University of Auckland.) 1964.
The Lore of the Whare-Wananga by S. Percy Smith (2 Vols.).
Te Wananga Volume 1, and Volume 2, no. 1. (This was a periodical published by the Board of Ethnological Research. The numbers mentioned above are obtainable from the Secretary, Polynesian Society, Box 5194, Wellington. They contain much of the material by Nepia Pohuhu on which ‘The Lore of the Whare Wananga’ was based.)
Te Whare Kura. This Maori-language periodical is published tow or three times a year by the Education Department. It is available from all Government Printer shops.
Professor Bruce Biggs, who is of Maori descent, teaches Maori studies in the Department of Anthropology, University of Auckland.
This article is the revised text of a talk he gave some time ago as one of the ‘Winter Lectures’ at the University of Auckland.
Professor Biggs is at present undertaking research at the East-West Centre, Hawaii.
Growing a nation's goods
Just think how many of our goods start out as trees! The house you live in, the chair you sit in, the packages you buy merchandise in–even the paper this is printed on–all have started as a part of the forest. But these are only our everyday requirements. In addition, New Zealand is fast building a sizeable forest products export trade. Forest industries earn nearly half of the total income New Zealand derives from trade with Australia, and other markets are being developed progressively. The New Zealand Forest Service is planning even now for the twenty-first century. Private and farm planting … company afforestation, is being encouraged to help grow goods for the nation.
Watch your investment grow!
Forestry Issued by the New Zealand Forest Service
Spreading The Word
one of the problems of any organisation like the N.Z. Maori Council is keeping in touch with its ‘grass roots’, in our case the Maori Committees scattered throughout the country. There are three main ways of doing this, all of which must be used if our people are to be kept informed about the Council's activities.
The Council's Newsletter
The Newsletter that the Council sends out each month is the easiest way of telling people about the Council's work. In the Newsletter there are reports of meetings and the development of Council policy. There are articles on current problems and on the results being achieved by Maori organisations of all sorts. Contributions to this Newsletter are very welcome.
The Newsletter is sent free to all Maori Committees. There may be some Committees that have not seen copies, but if so it is because the Council has never been given the address of the Secretary; either that, or the Secretary is not passing his copy around the other members. This matter is easily rectified—just write to the Secretary of the Council, Box 5195, Wellington
Now that the Broadcasting Corporation has extended its Maori services to include interviews and discussions on current topics there is a possibility that the Council may get information across through these channels. There are interesting opportunities here, for although we do not expect to use the radio for ‘propaganda’, much of what the Council deals with would be of real interest to many people, both Maori and Pakeha.
Visits to Districts
In spite of the ease of posting Newsletters to people and talking to them on the radio, personal visits by the officers of the Council are still an essential part of keeping in touch. Nothing can replace the face-to-face talk in the meeting-house, where simple questions can be answered, local conditions examined and special problems discussed and, if necessary, taken up for investigation by the Council.
The most extensive tour of any district was made recently when the President and the Secretary of the Council toured the South Island, visiting as many of the Maori Committees as possible in the time at their disposal. They were to attend the conference of the Maori Women's Welfare League in Dunedin, so the opportunity was taken to travel throughout the island. Meetings were held at Blenheim, Kaikoura, Temuka, Bluff, Moeraki, Benmore, Christchurch, Nelson, Takaka and Wairau Pa.
This tour certainly gave the visitors, including Lady Carroll and Mrs Tamihana of the League Executive, a new insight into the problems of South Island Maoris and a better appreciation of their achievements in this modern world.
In any large city the difficulty of organising local committees and keeping them alive is considerably greater than in country areas where people are in touch with one another every day. Because of this, it was felt that a representative of the Council with the Secretary should call meetings there to see what help was needed. Through the excellent work that is, in fact, being carried on by relatively few, it looks as if there will be a revival of Maori Committees throughout the city.
Special Visit to North Auckland
In their concern for the better development of their lands, representatives of North Auckland on the Maori Council had invited the President to visit them for the special purpose of explaining how land incorporations might help them. Two excellent meetings were held, one at Takahiwai and the other at Pukepoto, where a large crowd gave Sir Turi Carroll a most attentive hearing. He was supported by the Judge of the Maori Land Court and the District Officer, Maori Affairs Department, and the result of his visit could well be the establishment of several new incorporations.
A Foundation For The Future?
it is encouraging to know that there is now a greater recognition of the many problems involved in the education of the Maori people. For the majority of New Zealanders, this recognition is formulated in terms of the Maori Education Foundation.
A Moral Obligation
The strong have a moral obligation to help those who are weaker; and so, if the members of a dominant group have discovered shortcomings in the ways in which they are influencing the members of a minority group, or if they see ways in which they could help to overcome weaknesses in the position of such a minority—then the members of that dominant group have a moral obligation to try to help, sincerely and to the limits of their resources.
Because of this, the Foundation must be viewed as an absolute necessity. It recognises the urgent need to improve the Maori's lot, representing as it does the desire of the majority to do something concrete to assist a minority who are, in many ways, unfortunate; and at the same time it is a movement which, if it is reasonably successful, should vastly improve relations in this bi-racial society.
Essential to Discriminate
It seems ludicrous that critics should refer to this movement as an expression of inverted discrimination. To arrive at the crux of the whole problem it is absolutely essential that one must discriminate between Maori students and Pakeha students. It is this very fault, this decades-old failure to discriminate between Maori and Pakeha needs, particularly in the field of education—this lack of sympathy and ignorance of their very real problems, which has partly led to the stagnation of the Maori race, not only academically, but also economically, socially and culturally. And this situation has improved only insignificantly in the last few decades.
It is discouraging to read the statistics which show a comparatively mediocre level of achievement in most fields by the Maori race. Far too few of us are seeking the education which we should be seeking. In spite of the fact that the actual number of Maoris attending post-primary schools has increased fourfold since 1948, proportionately speaking the number is still much too small; and in one recent year (1960), six times as many Maori children as Pakeha children did not complete their primary education. The largest proportion of Maori students leave at the end of form four, whereas the largest proportion of Pakehas leave at the end of form five. Only about 6 per cent of Maoris left with school certificate or higher in 1961, compared with about 32 per cent of non-Maoris. Proportionately speaking, almost six times as many Pakehas as Maoris are seeking education above a form five level.
Two Possible Reasons
There are two possible reasons for these figures: either Maoris are being indirectly denied education, or else they do not appreciate its value. Probably, both these reasons apply to some extent.
There are many problems which make it difficult for us to reach an adequate level of education, and which help to justify the existence of the Foundation. The European has had centuries of experience in which to evolve principles of living appropriate to modern civilisation. We have not had such long experience, and we cannot therefore help ourselves to the same extent.
Cannot Change Suddenly
It is not to be expected that we should suddenly emerge from our traditional society and adopt all the characteristics of a civilized race. Our traditional ways of life permitted us an effective existence, and it is only natural that any transitional stage would be very gradual, and even subject to opposition from ubiquitous ‘reactionaries’. Consequently we have been, and to a certain extent still are, slow to appreciate the necessity of adapting ourselves. As well as this, the Maori people lack administrative experience, finance, and the experience
of acting as a resolute body when this is called for; all these things prohibit a campaign of mass self-improvement. The Foundation, through its very structure, will admirably make up for these deficiences.
Apathy of Some Maori Parents
One of the biggest problems facing the Foundation is the apathy of Maori parents. Most of them do not realize the intrinsic value of education, but are generally content to coast along from day to day, barely sparing a thought for those worries and anxieties which seem to plague most Europeans. Many have had little schooling themselves, and thus they can see little point in education. (The writer Dr Ausubel in his book ‘Maori Youth’ suggests that this attitude is comparable with European thinking of about two generations ago.) Many of those who have had some education, or who do spare a thought for its positive values, conceive of education as abstract, far off, almost magical, and attainable only by a few. The task of educating parents is a difficult but an essential one. It is especially important where the present generation of parents is concerned, for the parents of the future will, we trust, have benefited from the wider educational possibilities which are now open to them.
Less Capable of Helping
Most parents are less capable of helping their children with educational and vocational guidance than are their Pakeha counterparts. Many possess little knowledge of the vast range of careers available to their children, and many have only romantic notions of careers for their children, ideas such as ‘doctor’ or ‘lawyer’, not fully realising how much is demanded of one for professions such as these. The Foundation is very conscious of this lack of knowledge and is doing much to spread information on the subject; for example, it has recently distributed a useful pamphlet which summarizes the most important facts and gives sources of further information.
Maori parents are more inclined to adopt a passive, disinterested, ‘laissez faire’ attitude towards their children. Parents and children have not much mutual confidence in their ability to discuss and solve problems together. Children are generally left to their own resources where their personal problems or their future is concerned: Maori parents do much less than Pakehas to help their children along more secure paths, and they are not as influential as they could be in persuading tempted youngsters not to enter ‘big-money’ occupations.
Many parents are reluctant to send their children on to higher education because of the costs involved; very often they do not realise that there are grants readily available, or how to apply for them. (In my own youth I received no benefit from scholarships because of parental ignorance.) The Foundation will prove its value if it can use its influence to persuade even a few parents to keep intending schoolleavers at school for a longer time.
Another formidable obstacle is the fact that Maoris are comparatively retarded in their education. The report of the Commission on Education shows that on the average, our children are six to nine months behind Pakehas in their academic attainment; one realises the seriousness of this when one observes that the Maori youngster seldom catches up with his Pakeha schoolmates, so that few of them actually reach the final goals which they should reach.
Importance of Stimulating Literature
Basically, there are two reasons for this retardation. To some extent it is due to Maori parents' starting their children's school careers later than do Pakehas. The other reason, a far more important one, is that Maori homes seldom contain much which is intellectually stimulating. In particular, most families possess little suitable literature through which the Maori child can broaden his general education to the extent that Pakeha children do. The Foundation, in co-operation with library services, is taking positive steps to assist in reaching more Maori homes with more and better literature.
As a consequence of our inadequate education, the percentage of Maoris who are engaged in unskilled or semi-skilled work is far too large, and the percentage engaged in professional or ‘white-collar’ work is very much too small. This position is tending to create a degrading and unjust stereotype of Maoris in the eyes of many Pakehas.
Impossible to Accept This Position
Our people should not, and cannot, be permitted to accept this level of mediocrity and dormancy; it would be intolerable for us to become little more than the ‘hewers of wood and drawers of water’ in our country. Also, if things continue at their present rate there will be a surplus of unskilled workers, leading to more unemployment among them; this is especially evident when one considers that higher qualifications are increasingly being
Children who are watched ….
With children, most drownings occur because “no-one noticed”. An ounce of caution can save a ton of regret. All forms of water call for positive action.
1. Water hazards around the home. Sheep dips, water troughs, wells, ditches, reservoirs, tanks. Fence or cover them now—before they claim young lives.
2. Rivers and beaches. Take no chances. Watch all the time when children are swimming. Count heads to be sure that none disappear.
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demanded for jobs. Furthermore it is bad economics to allow a large section of the population not to be developed to the utmost of its capacity. The Foundation aims at helping to reverse this trend.
One reason why Maoris are not confident enough to educate themselves to the level of Pakehas is that very often they have a poor command of the English language. This handicaps them throughout school, especially in secondary school, and the Foundation's attempt to encourage parents to have more English literature available for their children is essential if this weakness is to be overcome.
Previous Bursaries Not Adequate
Bursaries have been too small in the past and too unevenly distributed, coming mainly from Trust Boards. There is little co-operation between tribes in the matter of education, with the result that the less prosperous tribes offer insignificant amounts while wealthier tribes can afford fatter bursaries for their descendants. The Foundation will give solidarity to the erratic bursary system, will help any Maori regardless of his tribe, and will help him in a more substantial way than could individual tribes. More co-operation will be created, for more tribes will be co-operatively working towards a common goal, that of elevating our race.
Younger Children Are Best Hope
The Foundation's purpose is to give financial assistance, where necessary, to any Maori who would benefit by the furtherance of his or her education; this means helping the pre-school child, those at school, and those at present attending university. The present generation of primary and secondary school Maoris, as well as Maori university students, will be less prone to ‘indoctrination’ with the Foundation's ideals than the generation now beginning their pre-school years. The former generally have their parents' attitudes and habits too firmly embedbed in their minds; and the ultimate product is more often than not, an ‘off-the-assembly-line’ Maori—generous, easy-going, friendly, but in the eyes of a progressive society, a ‘no-gooder’. The Utopian presumption is that this here-to-fore-mentioned generation will be the last to be influenced by this ‘traditional’ school of thought. If there are some Maoris who do reveal ability and determination, then the Foundation should give them financial support, but it would be wrong to spend an excessive amount on them. Speaking from experience, I have seen several of my own friends waste Government money by falling by the wayside.
Basically, the remedy lies with pre-school children, who can be influenced and moulded more easily, ultimately to their own and their future children's benefit. If these children are not given adequate access to education in their earliest years, if the Foundation does not effectively remove obstacles in the Maori child's transition from home life to normal school life, then the cause of the Foundation is lost, and the Maori people will continue to ‘enjoy’ their present status of ‘second rung’. Whatever the outcome, we cannot say that the Pakeha has not shown his willingness to help us. We have been given the incentive, and now we must strive to better ourselves.
A spirit of humanity and urgency was needed to help the Maori race. The Foundation admirably represents that spirit.
Mr Gartner, who belongs to Ngati Tuwharetoa, spent his childhood near Ohakune. He attended Auckland University and worked for three years in the State Advances Department, then entered Wellington Teachers' College. He is at present teaching at Haumoana, Hastings.
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The Invasion of Waikato
By Harold Miller
Pauls Book Arcade, 6s 6d
This excellent book contains the text of a public lecture delivered by Mr Miller on the occasion of the centenary of the invasion of Waikato. Most appropriately the lecture was given in the centre of Waikato, at Hamilton.
Mr Miller is to be complimented on this timely study, which says with eloquence and scholarly accuracy a great many things that badly needed saying.
His discussion of Wiremu Tamihana, that far-sighted stateman, teacher and Christian leader who took up arms so reluctantly, is of particular interest. A reader who may be a descendant of Tamihana can be excused for the pride he must feel in the qualities of vision and integrity which this great leader possessed, and perhaps one can be generous and tolerant if in one's reading some hostility is aroused at the thought of the needless bloodshed which ended his endeavours.
A Sad But Inspiring Story
Mr Miller's account of the thirst for knowledge which the Maori possessed at this time, and the great strides forward which they had made before the war came, gives us cause to ponder just how the Maori people would have advanced if over one hundred years ago there could have been the same concern for their welfare as exists today. Think of the progress that might have been made in farming pursuits if the right kind of encouragement had been given. History decreed otherwise.
Speaking of those days before the war, Mr Miller said to his audience, ‘I do not know how much is known of all this in Waikato. You ought to know about it and tell it to your children, for there are few more inspiring stories in the whole history of Christian civilisation—not a bit less inspiring because it ended in total defeat.’
It is a sad story, but if in its telling Maori and European can learn to appreciate each other's best qualities and to understand each other better, then assuredly New Zealand society as a whole must benefit.
Auckland Institute and Museum photo
Wiremu Tamihana: a statesman, teacher and Christian leader, caught up in a tragic conflict.
Yes Mr Miller, there are many young men of the Maori race who have deep thoughts when they survey the rich pasture-lands where once the cooking fires of their ancestors burned: when they remember the unjust confiscations and the barren period after the war, and witness today the slow and painful efforts the race is making to gain parity in the educational field. There are many who are thinking of the urgency of the task they have before them to stir their people and rouse them to the greatest heights of achievement, so that they may be worthy of the sacrifices of their ancestors.
Mr Miller ended his lecture by expressing the hope that some day, the people of Hamilton may think it right to erect a memorial to Wiremu Tamihana, whom he described to his audience as ‘the greatest man who has ever lived in this place’. What could be more appropriate, he asked, than to give the name of this ‘friend of education’ to one of the buildings to be erected in Hamilton as part of the new University of Waikato.
Let us hope that this may be done, for it would indeed be a fitting memorial.
No Ordinary Sun:
Poems by Hone Tuwhare
Blackwood and Janet Paul, 10s 6d
This book contains a careful selection of the poems of Hone Tuwhare, the best-known poet of Maori descent writing in English. Tuwhare's style owes something to free verse tradition, something (whether or not the author is bilingual) to the energy and natural metaphors of Maori speech, and only its faults to a certain debris absorbed from versifiers less gifted than himself. When Tuwhare is boldest and most his own master, he breaks all nets of imitation with a bare statement of the condition of man—
‘I have learned to love
too much perhaps
rough tracks hard of going
poorly lit by stars… ‘
do not rage your brothers
to a harsh awakening.
to a Tuesday's blossoming tree
and the wild orchard
where I shall find her… ‘
‘But I heard her with the wind
crooning in the hung wires
and caught her beauty by the coffin
muted to a softer pain—
in the calm vigil of hands
in the green-leaved anguish
of the bowed heads
of old women… ‘
The last quotation I have given here, from the poem ‘Tangi’, would lose much of its meaning for a reader who lacked knowledge of Maori funeral ceremonies, and especially the carrying of green leaves by the mourners. And this raises the point of possible obscurity. Has Tuwhare the right to use images whose meaning will be inaccessible to those who are ignorant of Maori thought and custom? I think he has that right, since greater richness comes from the double level of symbolism; and a reader worth his salt would be led to study and enquiry. Furthermore, Tuwhare is ploughing a new paddock, where Maori and Pakeha frontiers mingle, a steep stony paddock that needs the double-handled hillside plough.
The keynote of Tuwhare's writing is an uncommon emotional honesty. There is hardly a trace of padding, of constructed abstract comment in his work. As a result he writes either superbly (as, for example, in ‘Roads’ ‘Tangi’, ‘A Disciple Dreams', Monologue’, ‘Moon Daughter’, ‘The Girl in the Park’, ‘Importune the East Wind’) or imperfectly, with a cluster of fragments, true in themselves but not joined in a total unity. There is no middle road of the merely competent; and the reader has the advantage of knowing that the reality prior to the poem is never faked or invented. Each poem is alive from start to finish.
Tuwhare's verse could be admired for reasons outside the value of the poems themselves—because he is Maori (a reason for the keen racialist); because he is a man who works with his hands (a reason for the romantic Leftist)—but these things are in the long run irrelevant. It is certainly true that he uses the English language with a new slant, a new emotional element, from a Maori point of view; and his occupation may deliver him from the academic vices. But the best poems stand beyond this, on their own merits, as authentic personal intuitions of the meaning of life and death. I find Tuwhare's work most nearly perfect when he deals with the relationship of men and women, or alternately with the inner darkness and poverty experienced by a modern man who is gripped by the mechanical necessities of Western life. The shock of warmth and discovery, as one reads these poems, happens again and again.
Maori Games and Hakas:
Instructions, Word and Actions
A. H. & A. W. Reed, 22s 6d
by Alan Armstrong
reviewed by Kingi Ihaka
Alan Armstrong's recently published ‘Maori Games and Hakas’ follows the earlier ‘Maori Action Songs’ written by himself and Reupena Ngata.
‘Maori Games and Hakas’ is a very elaborate book, divided into four parts: after the very useful introduction we have sections on Maori games, on Maori music and musical dances (powhiri, poi and action songs), and on haka taparahi and peruperu.
This is an invaluable book which should find its way into all our schools, Maori clubs, and other organizations concerned with foster-
ing Maori culture. There is a tendency these days for New Zealanders intending to travel overseas to rush into a Maori club and learn (or try to learn) one or two items—perhaps an action song or a poi—and they expect to learn such items in a matter of a few days! Armstrong's book is of inestimable help to over-seas travellers in this regard. Illustrations showing hand, feet and body movements in haka, action songs and poi are clearly set out throughout. For a book containing both Maori and English there are very few misprints, and these will not affect the theme or the meaning of the songs, haka, etc. The introduction with its discussion of the Maori language, methods of teaching haka and action songs, taiaha drill and concert entrances, contains important material often by-passed by the aver-age Maori.
How often at a so-called Maori concert have we found that there are only one or two Maori items, the rest of the programme being devoted to ‘hybrid’ items—songs sung in Maori to pop tunes, or an imitation of the ‘twist’ with some sort of a Maori flavour. Armstrong has something to say about this too! And on this matter of concerts, Armstrong discusses the controversial issue as to which side of the stage a party should enter—left or right—and gives a version which should, for competition purposes, be accepted by all.
But the book is not limited only to hakas, action songs, and pois. There is an excellent section on the old Maori games—games which today are known and played only in a few country districts. Hand games, which add flavour to a concert, have a section in the book, too.
Alan Armstrong is to be complimented on his excellent work. He is so far the only person who has given adequate illustrations of the actions of Maori items, and his work will greatly assist those who are learners.
The book is to be treated as a guide, in that no one who wishes to know the various facets of the haka, poi and other Maori items can fully appreciate the value of such numbers without associating himself with a group which practises them regularly. One must be practical, and Armstrong has learnt all that he has recorded in his book not merely from reading books, nor from taking notes from various people. He has taken a most active part in Maori cultural activities, both in Malaya as a leader of the very successful Maori Concert Party of the 2nd Battalion of the New Zealand Regiment, and in Wellington, where he is a member of at least two progressive Maori clubs.
New Zealand owes Alan Armstrong a debt of gratitude for his painstaking work in recording in book form those things which today are not only part of Maori culture, but also an important facet of New Zealand life. Tena koe Alan!
The Decorative Arts
Of The New Zealand Maori
A. H. & A. W. Reed, 22s 6d
by T. Barrow
reviewed by Katarina Mataira
Dr T. Barrow's ‘The Decorative Arts of the New Zealand Maori’ is certain to find its way on to the bookshelves of many libraries and homes. For all lovers and students of Maori culture this book is a ‘must’.
At last someone has presented, together and in colour, all six of the decorative arts of classic Maori culture. These are: moko (tattoo), kowhaiwhai (rafter patterns), taniko (weaving of cloak borders), raranga (weaving of baskets and mats), tukutuku (lattice-work house panels), and whakairo (carving of wood, stone and bone). The examples shown are from both overseas and New Zealand collections, and some of them are illustrated here for the first time.
That the author has a profound respect for the Maori artist of the classic period is apparent from the almost reverent manner in which the art work of this time is presented. Careful selection, expert photography and excellent colour printing combine to show to the full the beauty of design and exquisite craftsmanship of carving, tukutuku, taniko and other arts.
Along with the many photographs of early paintings of Maori subjects are short notes of historical and cultural interest. The author presents some new interpretations which are of much interest, and his comments clearly show how closely the art of the Maori was integrated with his everyday living.
Although most of the book is concerned with art in the classic style, there are also examples of rock painting and stone engraving, some of which probably belong to an earlier period. There are also some pieces which belong to the present time.
This book will no doubt appeal to tourists. Knowing this, the author has included a chapter entitled ‘Tourists and Tourism’, in which he
offers tourists some advice. That ‘Maoris appreciate any sincere interest in their life or the life of their ancestors, but do not like to be viewed as exhibits or curiosities’, is a very true comment indeed.
The one feature of this book which disturbs me is the use of a technique generally associated with the promotion of tourism. Dressing up Maori maids and warriors in present-day Maori concert regalia and posing them along-side canoes in a museum, and in front of carved houses, does nothing but perpetuate the impression which so many overseas people have that Maoris still dress and live like this. The photographs used here are also of the tourist type. The colour is far too strong and over-glorified. These pictures are in such unhappy contrast with the other ones that I feel it is a pity that the author used them.
Notwithstanding this however, Mr Barrow has produced the most comprehensive, attractive, and easily read book which has so far been published on the subject. It caters for the amateur and the expert, the young and the old, and will do much to foster a greater appreciation of the classic Maori arts.
A New Maori Migration
by Joan Metge
and Melbourne University Press, 45s
reviewed by John Harréa
This is much the most detailed description of contemporary Maori life that has yet been published—in fact the detail may be a bit over-powering for the casual reader, although such readers are greatly assisted by short clear conclusions at the end of most chapters.
Dr Metge discusses life in both a rural village in Northland (called here Kotare) and urban Auckland, dealing in particular with domestic organization, kinship, leadership and community solidarity. Her aim is to describe and explain the process of urbanisation—probably one of the most significant features of Maori life in the post-war years.
The author tells us that when she began to work on this project she made the usual assumption that Maori urban society was something rather different from Maori rural society. More than this she expected to find a clear division between the two. What she did find was that the urban Maori does not cut himself adrift from rural Maori life by moving to the town, but keeps in close contact through visits back (particularly for tangi) and through country relations who often visit him in the town.
This means, of course, that Maori rural society is changing also. Along with the urban it is undergoing what anthropologists call ‘acculturation’, that is, a change in ways of life brought about by adapting to the forces of the larger society of which it is a part.
This book is essential reading for everyone—Maori and Pakeha—who is not only interested in the present day situation, but is prepared to make an effort to understand the processes involved. It is not light reading, but fortunately the language of the social anthropologist is not too technical and Dr Metge takes considerable pains to make sure that the terms she uses are adequately explained.
Land Tenure in the Cook Islands
by R. G. Crocombe
Oxford University Press, 38s
reviewed by John Booth
When people used to one type of land-holding try to codify the rules for another and completely different system, they almost invariably alter and distort it to such an extent that it ceases to function effectively. This is what has happened in the Cook Islands; it is admirably described in a new book by Ron Crocombe called ‘Land Tenure in the Cook Islands’.
This book is of particular interest to New Zealand Maoris because their traditional system of land tenure was so similar to that of the Cook Islands. Much of what the author says could be matched with New Zealand cases. For instance, on pages 141–2 he lists ways in which flexibility was built into the old system but has been excluded by statute and Land Court decision from the new. The New Zealand position would be very similar.
As in New Zealand, it is apparently true that in the Cooks some good Maori land is not productive, and this is due in large part to the suppression of the traditional rules of land-use. The land has become tangled up in a complicated web of red tape.
Mr Crocombe quotes two cases as an illustration of his argument. On the island of Mauke the Land Court had dealt with all the planting land before 1906 whereas in Mangaia
this had never been done. There has been a more marked decline in productivity in Mauke than in Mangaia, for in Mangaia indigenous leadership remains and the land is held under customary tenure.
The book finishes with a statement of principle that would be widely accepted but not so often applied. ‘Unless tenure reform is associated with improvements in technical skills, the provision of credit, transport and markets, it is unlikely to result in increases in output or in the satisfaction of the people concerned. Furthermore, in a democratic society, proposals for reform must be evolved with the full participation of the people and must be accepted by them if they are to result in effective improvements to their social and economic welfare.’
reviewed by Alan Armstrong
by Ann Holmes
zodiac EPZ 119 7in 45 EP
Ann Holmes was born in Australia. She began as a serious student of the piano and finished up by abandoning all in favour of a childhood love for the wurlitzer theatre organ. She is well known to Aucklanders for her several years as organist at the Civic Theatre, and thanks to regular appearances on radio her name and playing has become known to many more. In this record Ann Holmes takes to the console of a Gulbransen organ and plays a most sparkling selection of Maori songs. It is always encouraging when Pakeha musicians take Maori music and give it a new dimension, increasing its appeal for yet another section of public.
If you like organ music you will enjoy this record. If you like modern Maori songs then the record will doubly appeal.
Festival FX 5070 7in 45 EP
The Maori Troubadours are another group of young Maoris who have sought fame and fortune with some success in this country and overseas. This record features a number of Maori songs plus a competently performed, but far too fast rendition of ‘Ringa Pakia’. (It really is about time groups making recordings gave this taparahi a rest.) The group's leader ‘Tui Latui’ (a stage name I presume) introduced each item with what the cover blurb describes as ‘a further touch of Maori charm’. Despite this nauseating description, I am forced to agree that the spoken introductions do give the record a little extra something.
‘Tui Latui’ speaks English with a pleasant Tuhoe accent. Unfortunately in some of the numbers the group seems to have tempered their Maori pronunciation to Wooloomooloo as a result of their sojourn in Australia and there are some bizarre results which will grate on the ears of many Maori listeners. One aspect of their singing style which I found unpleasant was a periodic breaking into a most unpleasant falsetto. When it happened for the first time I took a hasty glimpse at the cover to see if I had overlooked a female singer with the group.
All in all, however, this is quite a pleasant and unpretentious little recording. The Maori Troubadours are to be commended for featuring, with reasonably good taste, the music of their own people and not some stomping cacophonous effusion from the field of pop music.
mr jackie hotu of Titahi Bay, Wellington, hopes soon to manufacture and market inlaid paua shell fire surrounds, wall panels and tiles. Mr Hotu, a fisherman for paua, has successfully worked out a method of setting small fragments of paua shell in a concrete base, following a technique somewhat similar to that used in making terrazzo.
A great deal of interest has been shown in Mr Hotu's work, and one big firm has told him that they will buy as much as he can produce.
the tawhiti isolated branch of Maori Women's Welfare League recently organised a highly successful fund-raising baby contest. The purpose was to build a cottage at Te Puia Springs where relatives of very ill patients at the hospital would be able to stay. Altogether £1,500 was raised, a sum that far exceeded the hopes of the organisers. The winning baby was Baby Goldsmith, who was crowned with due ceremony by Miss Iritekura Beale, patroness of the Tawhiti Isolated Branch.
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Crossword Puzzle 46
|13.||Former times; ancient times.|
|32.||Stamp, print, dash down.|
|33.||All the food is consumed (3, 5, 2, 3).|
|37.||We; war party.|
|41.||Tie around the neck; at, in, with (fut.).|
|42.||Silent, exhausted; a game—ti ringaringa.|
|43.||Beam, bar, step, sill.|
|45.||Free from tapu; ordinary.|
|53.||Launch; push endwise; push a sliding door.|
|56.||Avenged, paid for.|
|5.||Way, path; that is to say.|
|6.||Putrid; be extinguished.|
|7.||Serves one right; it is good.|
|10.||Carved uprights on carved house.|
|14.||Footstep; make haste.|
|23.||Move swiftly; fly (clouds).|
|27.||Since, because (2,2,3).|
|30.||Sea, coast, tide.|
|36.||Adult, grown up.|
|46.||Moon on 20th day.|
|54.||He, she; current.|
HAERE KI O KOUTOU TIPUNA
Mrs Rose Maria Watene
The death occurred last August at Wellington of Mrs Rose Maria Watene. She was aged 83.
Mrs Watene was the mother of Mr Steve Watene, Opposition Member for Eastern Maori. She was the wife of the late Toki Watene.
Born at Opotiki, she was a member of the Ngati Rangiriri and Mokunuiarangi sub-tribes of the Arawa and of the Whanau-a-Apanui tribes.
She was buried at Totara Pa, Thames.
Another son, Bill, died some time ago.
Mrs Anil Evans
Mrs Ani Evans died last July in Dunedin. She was the wife of the late Mr Clive Evans.
Mrs Evans was born at Puketeraki. She was the youngest daughter of the late Hon. Tame Parata, a rangatira of Ngaitahu who also belonged to the Waitaha and Ngati Mamoe tribes.
Before her marriage Mrs Evans accompanied her father to Wellington during sessions of Parliament. He represented Southern Maori for 35 years.
Mrs Evans was deeply interested in Maori welfare and social work.
She leaves three children, Lovell, Peti and Margaret, and seven grandchildren.
The Rev. Anaru N. Ngawaka
The death occurred last August at Whangape, Northland, of the Rev. Anaru Ngawaka, Church of England minister and leader of Te Rarawa. He was aged 94.
The tangi was held at the Rev. Ngawak's house on the eastern side of Whangape Harbour, and at the Rev. Ngawaka's expressed wish, he was buried in the cemetery beside the old church near the ancient headland pa of Whakarongo.
The funeral service was conducted by the Bishop of Auckland (the Rt. Rev. E. A. Gowing)in the absence through ill health of the Bishop of Aotearoa (Rt. Rev. W. N. Panapa).
Supporting the bishop was the Archdeacon of Waimate (the Ven. E. A. Butt), Canon M. Cameron and practically all the Anglican clergy, Maori and Pakeha, of upper Northland.
In his funeral oration, Bishop Gowing referred to the noble example that Anaru Ngawaka had set and to the fact that his lifetime had spanned that of the seven bishops who had served in Auckland, including Bishop Selwyn who, though he left New Zealand in 1867, was still alive when Anaru Ngawaka was born.
The tangi was attended by six or seven-hundred people.
Mr John Wepiha Bluett
The death occurred last September at Whakatane of Mr John Wepiha Bluett, an elder of Ngati Hokopu and one of the most widely respected figures in the district. He is believed to have been at last 87 years old.
He was a member of the tribal executive for many years and always took an active interest in the welfare of his people.
He is survived by his wife, four sons and two daughters.
Mr Wiremu Wiki Walker
Mr Wiremu Wiki Walker died last September at Opotiki. He was aged 95.
A well-known farmer who spent most of his life in the district, Mr Walker belonged to the Whakatohea tribe.
There are 177 living descendants. He had 14 children, of whom eight are still alive, 30 grand-children, 137 great-grandchildren, and two great-great-grandchildren.
Mr Charles Davis
The death occurred last July at Te Kuiti of Mr Charles Richard Davis.
Mr Davis belonged to the Ngati-Kinohaku sub-tribe of Maniapoto. He was widely known and respected as a leader of the people of his district.
At the time of his death he was a member of the New Zealand Maori Council. He also served for many years as chairman of the Maniapoto tribal committee, and was a trustee of the Toka-nganui-a-noho Pa at Te Kuiti, taking a keen interest in its preservation.
He served in the first world war with the Maori Battalion, and before returning to New Zealand he was for a period engaged in the building trade in Australia. This experience he put to good use later in building up a major building business in Te Kuiti.
Among the many projects in which he took a leading part were the construction of the Tainui Memorial Meetinghouse at Kawhia, the Haurua
Maori King movement memorial at Hangatiki, and the recent restoration of the meeting-house Tokanganui-a-noho. He did much to further the objectives of the Maori Education Foundation in the Maniapoto area. He was the local representative of the Tainui Trust Board and was throughout his life a prominent supporter of the Maori King movement. He also took a very keen interest in the Maori Battalion Association.
He had a wide knowledge of Maori history and whakapapa and was a devoted advocate of the the Arawa Trust Board.
Mr Te Kiri is survived by his wife, three daughters and a son.
retention by the people of their Maoritanga.
Mr Davis is survived by his wife Edith and two children, John and Pat.
Mr Johnson Kawiti Grey
Mr Johnson Kawiti Grey, of Taradale near Napier, died last October at Napier. He was aged 59.
Mr Grey was a foundation member of the Ahuriri tribal executive committee, and acted as chairman from 1954 to 1959. He was one of the prime movers in the formation of the district councils of tribal executives.
On three Royal or vice-regal occasions, Mr Grey represented his people. He was presented to the Queen Mother, and the then Governor-General, Lord Cobham, when they visited Hawke's Bay, and he met Queen Elizabeth during the royal reception at Waitangi on her last visit to New Zealand.
A well-known orator, he was well versed in Maori history and culture.
He was responsible with others for forming the Maori youth club and marching teams of the Waiohiki-Moteo district. In his early years Mr Grey was a representative hockey player and for many years was a member of the Ruru Hockey Club. A keen musician, he assisted in the setting up of the only Maori silver band in the country, known as the Hamuere Silver Band.
He is survived by his wife, Wairakau (Baby), and his children, Raymond, Penny, and Lloyd.
Mrs Hinerau Waititi
The death occurred last August at the Cook Hospital, Gisborne, of Mrs Hinerau Waititi.
Mrs Waititi, of Ruatoria, was on both sides descended from families of aristocratic lineage. Her father was the late Mr Pani Fox, and her mother was Te Whakarua, daughter of Te Heapera, a famous Ngati Porou chieftainess of the Ruatoria-Mangahanea area.
Mrs Waititi was very prominent in all activities
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Ko te Peeke o A.N.Z. he Roopu whai mona!
Koia nei te Peeke kaumatua i Aotearoa nei a nana hoki i whakatakoto te kaupapa awhina i raro o nga mahi tuku moni, mahi paamu whakatu whare me era atu whakahaere i roto i nga 120 tau kua taha ake nei. E ki ana nga kaikorero ma te huruhuru ka rere te manu ara mehemea he whakaaro tou kaua e wehi ki te haere ki te Peeke o ANZ i tou takiwa, no te mea kei reira nga tohunga hei awhina i a koe.
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in the district, and for 12 years was the Maori Welfare Officer in Ruatoria.
Her funeral was one of the largest in Ruatoria for many years. Before the burial, the cortege paid a brief call at the Uepohatu Memorial Hall, Whakarua Park, of which she had been a board member for many years, the land for the park having been donated by her grandfather. The contrast between the very moving scene at the Hall during her funeral, and the huge welcome party which the previous week had gathered there to greet the Australian rugby team, is the subject of this poem, sent to Te Ao Hou by one of those present.
Rootless the pongas stand, dead, dry, drooping;
Over the ticket-box the sign of the East Coast Rugby Union says,
Welcome to Whakarua Park.
The sharp wind whirls and eddies the brown shreds of treefern,
Whips them across the dusty threshold of Uepohatu;
And the mourners stand waiting, sad, bereft.
Last Sunday the pongas were green and fresh,
The haka party stamped and swung lithe limbs,
And sturdy torsos swayed with a welcoming beat
To the Wallaby Footballers.
This Sunday, the dead fronds of the pongas
Writhe to the agony, as the mournful chant
Wails out on the marae, shrill cadence keening;
And the pall-bearers stand waiting.
The wind is chill, but the sun is bright with promise.
Spring will be early this year.
The scent of the yellow wattle. daphne, violets, anemones and sun-gold daffodils
Rises from the back of the undertaker's truck.
She will not see the spring this year.
She will not walk its way again.
But her memory will spring like the fragrance of the blossom,
Her years of service be her living monument.
TIAKINA NGA MANU MAORI
Ko te whakaaro o nga kai hautu o nga iwi katoa o te Ao kia tohungia nga kararehe me nga manu katoa ahakoa nei kei hea.
I raro i tenei kaupapa he waahi nui e pa ana ki nga tangata o enei motu. Ko enei manu ara te kuaka he manu heke mai, i nga tuawhenua o Alaska me Siberia.
Ko tenei manu kua oti te rahui e te Kawanatanga o Amerika me te Kawanatanga hoki o enei motu no te mea e patua kino ngia ana.
No reira ko te tumanako o te whatu-manawa me tohu tenei manu a e inoi atu ana ki te hunga whaiwhakaaro:
AROHAINA TE MANU NEI
Na Te Tari Kaitiaki o nga Manu