Go to National Library of New Zealand Te Puna Mātauranga o Aotearoa Go to Te Ao Hou homepage
No. 59 (June 1967)
Previous Section | Table of Contents | Next Section

Te Ao Hou

the Department of Maori Affairs June–August 1967

All these articles once belonged to Revd Richard Taylor, the well-known pioneer missionary to New Zealand, and are now in the possession of a direct descendant, Dr R. M. S. Taylor of Auckland.

Picture icon

Both the shank and the point of this hook are made of human bone. The cord is the original cording, and the inside of the hook is faced with paua shell.

Picture icon

These pendants were presented by Maori people to Revd Taylor during his travels. The dark one in the form of a dog-tooth is made of greenstone, and the others are of shark-tooth. All are decorated with red sealing-wax at the top, or perforated end.

Picture icon

This beautifully worked and polished heitiki has an eye cut into the back with other secondary work suggesting that it was to be a double-sided pendant.
photographs by W. A. Taylor.

– 1 –

published quarterly by the Department of Maori Affairs and sponsored by the Maori Purposes Fund Board.

printed at Pegasus Press Ltd.

n.z. subscriptions: One year 75c (four issues), three years $2. Rate for schools: 40c 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 10/-, three years £1/5/-. Australia: one year $1.35, three years $3.15. U.S.A. and Hawaii: one year $1.50, three years $3.50. Canada: one year $1.65, three years $3.75. Other countries: the local equivalent of sterling rates.

back issues (N.Z. rates): Issue nos. 19–22, 27–29 and 31–58 are available at 25c each. A very few copies of issue nos. 13, 18, 23, 25 and 30 are still available at 50c each. Other issues are now out of stock. (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 ta 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.

editor: Joy Stevenson.

associate editor (Maori text): E. B. Ranapia.

Te Ao Hou

Number 59 June-August 1967

The Tohunga and the Taniwha 7
Chips, Patricia Grace 12
The Gov's Got Something 15
An Adventure at Sea, Cecilia Perkinson 21
The Coming, Dinah Moengarangi Rawiri 6
Waiata Pononga, Katarina Mataira 10
He Oriori, Katarina Mataira 12
Going Back, Valerie Fox 41
Nga Iwi O Aotea, G. L. Pearce 43
Mother and Sons, Rowley Habib 45
New Member of Parliament 5
Timoti Samuel Karetu, Barbara Ewing 8
Kati Au Ka Hoki Ki Taku Whenua Tupu … Sam Karetu 9
Waitangi 1967 14
A New Vision for the New World, Ike Amos 19
Wellington Maori Arts Festival 25
How to make a Rourou, Catherine Brown 29
Women's Health League 32
Parewahawaha 34
N.Z.M.C. ‘Meet the People’ Hui at Omahu 40
The Colour of our Country, H.Q. 48
Maori Theatre Trust 49
Haere Ki o Koutou Tipuna 2
People and Places 36
Younger Readers' Section 52
Books 57
Records, Alan Armstrong 62
Crossword Puzzle 64

front cover: Lionel Ngaheke, leader of Te Kaihanga Hostel's haka and action song group, and Ken Tumai, who challenged the Minister of Maori Affairs, pictured at the opening of the new hostel block.

National Publicity Studios.

back cover: A design by katarina Mataira.


Revd Wiki Netana Patuawa

Many were present from Mangonui and Hokianga counties for the tangi and funeral at Mamaranui of the Revd W. N. Patuawa, mission curate in charge of the Parengarenga Maori Pastorate, who died in Auckland Public Hospital on 17 February.

Revd Patuawa was on the eve of his transfer from the Kaitaia Parochial District to mission work among the Maoris in Auckland, where his wide experience and mana would have made his work most effective, and was actually speaking at his farewell at Peria when he was taken ill.

He was widely respected by Maori and Pakeha alike, and ministered to both communities while in the north. His loss will be a blow to Anglican Church work in the wide field that has opened in Auckland, replacing to such an extent the former opportunities in the country, for the Revd Patuawa with his maturity, wide experience and knowledge of hundreds of people would have been an ideal choice.

Mr Patuawa was a member of the Ngati Whatua tribe and had connexions with Aupouri, the major tribe in the north. He claimed direct descent from the chief Ruatara, who was largely responsible for the bringing of Christianity to the Maori people by the Revd Samuel Marsden.

He was ordained priest in St Mary's Cathedral in Auckland in 1955, serving curacies at Waimate North, St. Thomas', Freeman's Bay, Kaitaia, Hokianga and Peria before taking charge of the Parengarenga Pastorate. He is survived by his wife, daughter and seven sons.

Kereti Tei Ringa McDonnell Scott

Many former comrades of the Maori Battalion and military personnel attended the funeral of Mr K. T. R. McD. Scott, which took place on 22 February at the Putiki cemetery.

St Paul's Memorial Church was crowded, and many had to remain outside. Those taking part in the service included the Revd C. Shortland, vicar of Putiki, the Revd Keith Elliott, V.C., a personal friend of Mr Scott and a former vicar of Putiki, and Canon Taepa.

During the service Mr Elliott paid tribute to Mr Scott's memory, stating that he was a staunch friend and a valued citizen. The large and representative gathering that day was eloquent testimony of the high regard in which he was held, said Mr Elliott.

Hohepa Kanara

Almost the last of the grand old men of the Aupouri Tribe, still resident at Te Kao, Mr Hohepa Kanara (Joseph Konrad) died on 26 February.

He was a link not only with the tribal days of the past but with New Zealand Pakeha and European history, for he was descended from a Colonel of the Prussian Army who fought at Waterloo, and his grandfather, Joseph Konrad, a draughtsman, who was born in Poland, came to New Zealand and was captain of Militia during the Taranaki campaigns in the Maori War.

Mr Kanara began his schooling at Kaitaia and was later sent to Auckland and apprenticed to the blacksmithing and wheelwright firm of Jones and Power for whom he worked for two years.

Then he ran away to sea, first serving for two years as a cabin boy, then carting sulphur from White Island, and afterwards in sailing vessels engaged in the timber trade to Australia.

He continued his education until he was 17 and after a year and a half on the Australian run gained his third mate's certificate and joined the Government vessel Hinemoa, making many voyages from New Zealand to the Islands and Australian ports.

Mr Kanara enlisted for the Boer War, but his contingent arrived after hostilities ended.

Sometime after 1903 he left the sea and after a variety of jobs took up about 45 years ago a big block of land near Te Kao and worked to break it in from the teatree and scrub that covered it. He ran a butchery and bullock

– 3 –

teams, and had a launch.

In these years he gained a deep knowledge of the land, coastline and sea, and learned much history and many genealogies. This knowledge was sought by many in his last days, and he told visitors their family history and descent. He also gave much information that could be of use to the Lands and Survey Department in their development of Te Paki Station and other parts of the far north, for their announced policy is to respect historic sites, and he located many on a survey map.

Through his Taranaki ancestry Mr Kanara was related to many leading figures in Maoridom including Sir Maui Pomare and Te Rangi Hiroa (Sir Peter Buck).

He leaves a son and three daughters: Mr Fred Konrad, Te Kao; Mrs Agnes Tahitahi, Waihopo; Mrs Liza Tahitahi, Auckland; and Mrs Bella Melville, Thames.

His tangi was attended by visitors from New Plymouth, Rotorua, Thames, Auckland and all over Northland. The funeral was conducted by the Revd Waha Tauhara at the family cemetery at Te Kao.

Te Rakaherea Woodbine Pomare

The death occurred on 5 March of Mr Te R. W. Pomare, a son of Lady Pomare and the late Sir Maui Pomare.

Mr Pomare was in the Department of Health until he retired a few months ago. He was a public health inspector and was for many years a tutor in his profession.

He was for 25 years secretary of the New Zealand branch of the Royal Society for Health.

His father, the late Sir Maui Pomare, was in Parliament from 1911 to 1930 as the Reform Party representative for Western Maori, and was at one time Minister of Health.

Mr Pomare married Miss Madge Helen Ormond, a member of a well known Hawke's Bay family, and was a trustee for Te Atiawa people, of Taranaki. He was also patron of Te Aroha Maori Association during the time the committee was working for the establishment of the Maori meetinghouse at Waiwhetu.

At one time he unsuccessfully contested the Western Maori seat for the National Party.

Mr Pomare worked for four years on Maori health for the Department of Health, and carried out a survey in the late 1920s on Maori health and living conditions on the East Coast.

His sporting connections were mainly with rugby. While attending Wanganui Collegiate School, he won his First XI cap and played for the First XV. He represented Poverty Bay at full-back in the 1930s and also played in the same position for the Hutt club.

He was the national president of the Wanganui Collegiate School Old Boys' Association from 1962 to 1964.

Mr Pomare is survived by his mother, Lady Pomare, his wife and his family, Miria, Maui, Eru, Naera, Rakaherea and Toa.

Wakahuia Carkeek

Author of the recently published history The Kapiti Coast, Mr Wakahuia (Wattie) Carkeek died at Otaki recently. He was 35.

Employed as chief reader of the Dominion Mr Carkeek had been engaged for many years in an intensive study of early Maori history in the area between Titahi Bay and Otaki, and centred round the Ngati Raukawa people.

Published just before his death the book The Kapiti Coast which resulted from these years of work, is an authoritative, well illustrated and annotated story of the wild and colourful days before and during the first European occupation.

Descended from one of the most feared of the warriors of that period, Te Rauparaha's fighting chief Te Rangihaeata, Mr Carkeek had also published several pamphlets on aspects of Maori culture.

Maori and Pakeha were widely represented at the services at the Raukawa marae and Rangiatea church, conducted by Canon H. Taepa.

Mr Carkeek is survived by his wife and two children.

Ernest Going Loten

Mr Ernest Going Loten, headmaster of Te Aute College from 1920 to 1951, died in Waipukurau on 13 March, aged 82. His funeral service at Te Aute College Chapel was conducted by the vicar of Waipawa, the Revd J. M. Reed, assisted by the Archbishop of New Zealand, the Most Revd N. A. Lesser, who read the lesson, and Canon J. Tamahori, the college chaplain, who had been a head prefect at the college during Mr Loten's years as principal.

Canon Tamahori gave the address at the service.

At the end of the service, boys of the college sang a hymn in Maori as the cortege left the chapel for the Waipawa cemetery.

– 4 –

Before the service, Mr Loten lay in state in the college hall, and Maori elders and old boys of the college had paid tribute in traditional fashion.

Tribute to Sir Eruera Tirikatene

Before commencing its work on 24 January last, the Maori Land Court of the South Island District paid tribute to the late Sir Eruera Tirikatene.

Judge M. C. Smith, followed by Mr J. E. Miller, spoke on behalf of those present:

‘E te iwi, tena koutou katoa!
E mau mai ana ahau i nga mihi aroha
a nga Tiati o te Kooti Whenua Maori
a Judge Jeune te Tiati Tumuaki
a nga Tiati katoa
Ki a Lady Tirikatene
Ki nga whanaunga
Ki te iwi o Ngaitahu, ki nga iwi katoa o Te Waipounamu
i te matenga o Sir Eruera Tirikatene.
Nga mihi aroha ki a koutou i roto i tenei wa pouri.

‘Sir Eruera was an outstanding Maori leader who served his race and his country with distinction over a lengthy period. He was a tireless worker towards the economic, social and spiritual advancement of the Maori people. In his personality were combined the most endearing qualities of a Maori of the old school—dignity, a warm heart and an irrepressible sense of humour.

I met him first some years ago when he was visiting relatives in Waitara and was delighted when he graciously called to have a chat with me in my chambers at a sitting of the Court here last year. I think he then knew well that his days were numbered. He refused to cease working, however, and preferred to die in harness—an act in itself characteristic of his life of service.

On behalf of Chief Judge Jeune, the other Judges of this Court and myself, I extend to Lady Tirikatene and family and to the Maori people generally our sincere sympathy in this time of sorrow.’


A Reply

The Editor,
‘Te Ao Hou’

For eight years now I have been writing critical articles for Te Ao Hou and during all that time I have often wondered pathetically if anyone ever reads them. No one has ever written a letter to agree or disagree. Now the wrath of the gods descends on my head in a single issue. Regrettably, both the writers who take me to task in issue number 58 have failed to read properly the articles of which they complain.

Mrs Schafer implies that I am claiming that a longing for peace was a sentiment foreign to the ancient Maori. In fact I am saying the very opposite in the passage which she quotes from my critique of The Spiral Tattoo. She has, however, made the point even more clear.

Your other correspondent, ‘Negro Spiritual’ of Hamilton attacks my review of the record Waiata Maori on the grounds that the record contains ‘… some of the finest voices ever heard in New Zealand’. I would not deny this. In my review I referred to ‘… the tremendous potential of this talented group’. So what. We apparently both agree they have lots of talent, but it does not alter the fact that I think it an awful record. At least I have given chapter and verse to support my view. ‘Negro Spiritual’ is merely content to support his/hers with such snide comments as the fact that I have ‘… often shown a lack of musical background’. I studied music at Auckland University under the late Professor Horace Hollinrake but I doubt if the average reader of Te Ao Hou's record criticisms wants erudite commentary on the musical technicalities of the records. Perhaps ‘Negro Spiritual’ could inform us of his/her musical background—if such can be done without abandoning the cloak of anonymity.



– 5 –

New Member of Parliament for Southern Maori

Picture icon

Whetu Tirikatene-Sullivan

As a result of a by-election on 11 March, 1967, Miss Whetu Marama Tirikatene followed in the footsteps of her late father, the Hon. Sir Eruera Tirikatene, as Member of Parliament for Southern Maori, representing the Labour Party.

Shortly after her election Miss Tirikatene returned to Australia where she has been reading for a Ph.D. degree in Political Science (her topic—‘Contemporary Maori Political Involvement’) at the Australian National University, Canberra, and married a fellow-student, Mr Denis Sullivan, a nuclear physicist. She is now back in New Zealand and expects her husband, who has recently submitted his doctoral dissertation, to join her in a few months.

Mrs Tirikatene-Sullivan has tribal links with Ngaitahu, through her father, and with Ngati Kahungunu, through her mother. She was born at Ratana Pa, where she had her early schooling, later attending several Canterbury primary schools, Rangiora High School, and in her final year, Wellington East Girls' College.

Before commencing her Ph.D. studies, the new member had been employed as a public servant since her schooldays. She first held a variety of secretarial positions including one on the 1953–54 Royal Tour Staff, and after graduating from Victoria University's School of Social Science as 1960's top student, changed to social work, acting as Child Welfare Officer, Social Security Welfare Officer and Maori Welfare Officer.

Mrs Tirikatene-Sullivan has been active in many educational fields, lecturing to adult education groups and Young Maori Leaders' Conferences on ‘Maori Crime’ and ‘Maori Population’, graduating in 1964 from Victoria University's School of Political Science and Public Administration, and holding office as Vice-President of V.U.W. Students' Association (1960–61) and first President (in 1960) of the Federation of Maori University students.

Her recreational interests include fencing—she was one of New Zealand's top four women fencers, and dancing—becoming New Zealand Ballroom and Latin American Dancing Champion with her Australian partner Mr K. Mansfield.

With her background of success in so many fields and her knowledge of Maori culture passed on by her late father, Mrs Tirikatene-Sullivan is an example to her people of the value of education, a value which she intends to stress during her parliamentary career.

– 6 –

The Coming

The Man
His wife
At the prow
Of mighty Tainui
Agony drew me to my feet
To fall again
And round me
Odd black shapes
Bent in unison
And from their lips
The death-wail
I bite my lips
To force the cry back
Why should I
keen with these?
I know not
Yet death is here
The babe is dead
How cold to hold
How small
He does not weep
He lies
On my heart
He has left me
I would
But I cannot
Cold wind surged round me
Salt spray slashed my face
And I knew I had not eaten for days
Marama—white and aloof
She and Moana laughed
At we who toiled
To cross that heaving breast
Hau drove us on
Pitying us —
Yet we wanted
Not pity —
But food.
I am here
In this world
Haunt me not
The eyes
A sob — or a sigh
A new land
Of cloud
And my eyes
And my arms
In gratitude
And in anguish
He is so small
My son
For a new world
My Soul (To the oars)
Free (Pull)
The keening
The despair
The cold
I (Tahi)
We (Rua)
Am (Toro)
Are (Wha)
Here. (Hei)

Dinah Moengarangi Rawiri

From her elders, the writer heard the story of the coming of Tainui, of the death and the casting into the sea of the captain's son, as a sacrifice to the ocean-goddess, Moana, for bringing the canoe to a safe haven. There has always been doubt as to whether the child was alive or dead when he was cast into the sea. His sacrifice drove his mother mad.

The poem is the mother's, and the bracketed words are part of the chorus from the ghosts of the past. Though she thinks she is free, yet they haunt her, and their triumphant chorus calls in her ear to the very last.

– 7 –

The Tohunga and the Taniwha

A South Island Story

The Maori text of this story was first published in 1901, in the Journal of the Polynesian Society, volume X, pages 72–73. It was sent to the Journal by ‘H.T., of Croisilles, Nelson District’.

Whaiwhaiā, also known as Weiweiā and Wawaiā, was said to be an enchanted log sometimes seen drifting along the rivers in the Waikato district. It also travelled to other parts of the country, even sometimes to the South Island. It was seen stranded in so many places that it was the origin of the saying quoted in this story. Such magic logs were common in Maori folklore. If someone interfered with one, it at once set off for some other place.

Whaiwhaiā was also said to be a taniwha, a protector of Ngati Maniapoto in the Waikato.

Te Tohunga me te Taniwha

Tērā tētehi tohunga Māori nō mua i haere ki a Ngāi Tahu ki te mahi i ngā mate a reira, arā o Te Umukaha, e Kīianei e te Pākehā ko Temuka. Ka mahia ngā mate me ngā tapu. Ka oti ō uta, ka Kīiae te ruānuku nei, kotahi i toe, kei te moana.

Ka whakaritea e taua ruānuku kia tokotoru hei hoa mōna, hei haere ki te roto wai māori. Nō te taenga atu, ka Kīiae te ruānuku kia noho ētehi i uta, ka haere tērā, te ruānuku nei, ki te moana hura ai i te tangata o tērā wāhi—arā, i te tawhiti nei, i a Taniwha. Nāwai, ā, ka rewa tērā atua tangata ki runga; nō te kaha o te tohunga ka mate te taniwha, ka ahu atu ki te kongutu awa o te roto nei, mate rawa atu i te whatinga tai moana; i mate rawa ki reira.

Ka hoki te tohunga nei me ōna hoa ki te kāinga. Ka Kīiae te ruānuku nei kia tapatapahia taua ika. Kātahi te iwi katoa ka haere nei kia kite. Tae atu, ka tapatapahia taua ika; momotu iho e ono tuporo, waiho atu. Ka moe te iwi nei; oho ake i te ata, kua kore te ika a te iwi nei: kua riro kei te moana.

E toru ngā rā, ka pae mai he rākau; ka kitea e tētehi Pākehā, ka tapatapahia taua rākau, motu iho e ono ngā tuporo. Ka hoki te Pākehā nei ki te tiki i āna taputapu, arā, i āna pea kau hei tōtō i āna rākau. Hoki noa atu ia, kua kore āna rākau: kua hohoki anō ki te moana. Kua pērā me tō Waikato, arā, me te Whaiwhaiā; nō reira tērā whakataukīU, ‘Ngā paenga he rau o Whaiwhaiā’.

The Tohunga and the Taniwha

There was once a tohunga who visited Ngai Tahu at Te Umukaha, which the Pakehas call Temuka, in order to remove the evils that afflicted those people. He disposed of the evils, and of the tapu. After he had completed his task on the land, this wise old man said that there was one evil that remained: it was in the sea.

Then he arranged for three men to accompany him to the fresh-water lake. When they reached the lake the wise man told his companions to remain there on the land. Then he went forward to the sea to bring forth the inhabitant of that place, this creature Taniwha. After some time the demon floated up to the surface. It was through the tohunga's power that the taniwha was affected; it made its way to the entrance to the lake, and died there in the breakers on the shore.

The tohunga and his companions returned to the village, and he told them to cut up the fish. All the people went to look at it, and when they arrived they cut it into six pieces and left it there. They slept, and in the morning when they awoke the fish was not there: it had gone back to the sea.

Three days later a log was cast up on the shore. A Pakeha saw the log and cut it up, chopping it into six pieces. Then he went to fetch his bullock team to drag up the wood. When he returned the wood was not there: it had gone back to the sea again. It was just like Whaiwhaiā, the log from the Waikato that was the origin of the saying, ‘The many stranding-places of Whaiwhaiā’.

– 8 –

Timoti Samuel Karetu

One of the first people that all Maori visitors to London, and a great many Pakeha ones seek out is Timoti Samuel Karetu, Information Officer for the New Zealand High Commission in England. In his office on the third floor of the huge new modern building in London that is New Zealand House, Sam sits and answers hundreds of questions about New Zealand every day: the price of wool, the population of Christchurch, the prospects for a surveyor in Hamilton and where he could send his children to school, how New Zealanders overseas can record their votes in a general election. The ‘phone rings and he answers and begins to talk in German. There is a knock on the door and in walks perhaps Canon Rangiihu on an exchange visit to London to celebrate the centenary of Marsden's visit to New Zealand, or perhaps Steve Watene on a visit to London during the New Zealand Parliament recess. Mihis are exchanged and the conversation goes on in Maori. The ‘phone rings again and it is the High Commissioner asking Sam to go to Brussels to act as a German and French interpreter at the World Food Fair. Another knock on the door and it might be a Maori merchant seaman like Bob Dawson of Lyttelton whose ship has berthed in London for a few days and who has come in to say hello.

This is Sam's life now, and it is a long way from Kokako Native School (as it was known then) in Waikaremoana where the small Ngati Kahungunu boy adopted into the Tuhoe tribe couldn't speak English until he was seven. Sam is the adopted son of the late Tamati and Mauwhare Karetu of Tuhoe. After Kokako he continued his primary education at Huiarau and Waimarama Maori Schools and then became a boarder at Wellington Boys' College where his interest in other languages as well as English and Maori began. Then, after two years at Wellington Teachers' Training College (where he was leader of the Maori Club) he was awarded a third year's study at Victoria University (where he was also leader of the Maori Club.) He has a B.A. degree in French, German and Maori and his first job was at Taumarunui High School where he taught all these three languages. In Taumarunui, as well as forming a Maori club in the school, he formed one among the Ngati Tuwharetoa and Ngati Haua of Taumarunui, and sitting at his desk in London he talks with great affection of these people who made him feel one of themselves, and of their Rangatahi Maori Club.

In January 1962 Sam came to England, and soon after he arrived he was appointed to the job he is holding today in the New Zealand High Commission. It is a very demanding job that keeps him extremely busy—but he couldn't live in London without once more leading a Maori Club! There are a number of Maoris in London and most weeks they meet at Sam's place for practice for the concerts they give in and around London. As anyone who has been in any other Maori Club with Sam will know well, he is a hard taskmaster! He works the members hard, he teaches them new action songs, some of which he composes himself, and he is very critical and hard to please. It is almost entirely thanks to him that the Maori Club in London flourishes, and of course the Club has been a means of Maoris in London getting to meet each other.

Timoti Samuel Karetu is an extremely valuable member of the staff of the New Zealand High Commission, but he is also an invaluable member of the Maori population. He travels and is at home all over Europe and he could spend the rest of his life this way—but his Maoritanga has a strong hold on him and his roots have not yet left his Tuhoe childhood, and here on the other side of the world his spirit seems often to reach out to his homeland. He doesn't always admit this himself, but it is obvious to those who know him well—who can only hope that the call of his heritage will one day be strong enough for him to pack up his bags and his life in England, and return to his people.

– 9 –

Kati Au Ka Hoki Ki
Taku Whenua Tupu …

Hoki ana ngā whakaaro ki te wā i whakaakona tuatahitia mai ki a au te waiata nei, arā, te waiata aroha a Puhiwāhine, Ka eke ki Wairaka ka tahuri whakamuri … Nā te tau o tēnei rārangi o taua waiata ki taku kaupapa kōrero, a, nā te tau anō hoki o ētahi o ngā whakaaro o roto i taua waiata i waiho ai e au koinei hei upoko mō ngā kōrero me ngā whakaaro e whai ake nei.

Nā, kua tae mai te wā hei āta whakaarotanga mōku te take nei—me hoki atu rānei au ‘ki taku whenua tupu’ me noho mai rānei ki konei, ki te wāhi kua waiho nei e au hei kāinga tuarua mōku; e ea ai te whkataukī, ‘Mate kāinga tahi, ora kāinga rua’. Ko te pātai nei kei roto i a au e tāhurihuri ana, a, nā tēnei i tuhia ai ēnei whakaaro ruarua ōku.

Nā te aha kē rā au i pēnei ai, i āwangawanga ai ki te hoki atu ki te wā kāinga nā? E ai ki ngā pānui, ka mutu kē mai te ātaahua o tō tātou whenua—kore kē ētahi atu whenua i rite ki tō tātou te paku ēngari e whai ana i ngā momo āhuatanga katoa i runga i ōna moutere e rua. Arā, ko ngā maunga o Te Waipounamu hui atu ki ērā o Te Ika-a-Māui, ko Ruapehu tēnā, ko Tongariro tēnā, ko Ngāuruhoe tēnā; ngā wai ngāwhā o Rotorua, ‘te wai koropupū i heria mai nei i Hawaiki rā anō’; ngā ana o Waitomo; ngā one maha mai i Te Hiku-o-te-Ika tae atu ki Murihiku; ngā roto maha o ngā moutere e rua, arā, a Taupōnui-a-Tia, a Waikaremoana, a Manapōuri, a hea ake, a hea ake. Nā ēnei taonga a tātou i haere atu ai te tini o te tangata ki te mātakitaki haere i tō tātou whenua, a, ko ēnei mea e kore kē e kitea i te whenua kotahi atu i Aotearoa. Ae, he whiwhi rawa atu tātou; āpiti atu hoki, kāore kē e rangona te kaha o te makariri ki konā pēnei me konei, a, ko te raumati tētahi wāhanga o te tau kōre i te tino mōhiotia mai ki konei! Mā koutou e whiriwhiri atu i ēnei āhuatanga ko tēhea whenua e pai ana ki a koutou, ko tēnā rānei, ko tēnei rānei. Engari ahakoa ēnei taonga, kei te āwangawanga tonu au ki te hoki atu.

Nā taku roa mai pea ki konei i tīmata ai te huri haere o aku whakaaro ki te wā kāinga—ko te tohu rā tēnei o te koroua haere! Kei te huri anō hoki aku whakaaro ki aku aituā, arā, ki aku mātua whāngai kua kapoa atu nei e te ringa kaha o Aituā:

E Kui, e Koro, haere, haere: haere atu ki tō tātou nuinga i te Pō. Kua tata te wā e hoki atu ai ki te tangi-ā-tinana atu ki a kōrua, nō reira moe mai, moe mai i te moe tē whakaarahia.

Koinei te take nui i pīrangi hoki atu ai au —he hoki atu ki te ngaki i aku mate. Engari atu i tēnei he aha kē rā te take o te hoki atu? Ae, koinei te mate, e hoa mā, he rapu take a whai hua ai te hoki atu!

Ko ngā take i pīrangi noho mai ai ki konei ko ēnei e whai ake nei.

Ko te mea tuatahi ko te tata atu o tēnei whenua ki ērā o tāwāhi, arā, ki Wīkī, ki Tiamana, ki Hōrana, ki Itari ki hea ake, ki hea ake. Kua nui ngā whenua o tāwāhi kua tae au, a, kua whai hoa au i aua whenua katoa. Mā te mātakitaki haere i ngā whenua o ētahi atu wāhi e mōhio ai tātou ki ngā iwi o te ao, a, e iti ake ai te kūaretanga o tētahi iwi ki tētahi. Mā te pēnei anō hoki e mōhio haere anō ai tātou ki ngā tikanga o ngā whenua nei. Ki tōku whakaaro he mea pai tēnei, te whakaiti haere i te kūaretanga o tētahi iwi ki tētahi. Ki te hoki atu au me pēhea e taea ai ēnei hiahia ōku te whakangata?

Ko te mea tino kino ki a au ko te kaha kūare o ngā mea o te kāinga nā, Māori, Pākehā, e tae mai ana ki konei. Ki konei ka whakaaetia te tangata ki te whai i tāna i hiahia ai—ko tēnei mea ko te whāiti o te hinengaro kāore i te tino mōhiotia mai ki konei, arā, ki Rānana nei, otirā ki ngā tāone nunui o tāwāhi. Koinei rā te mea nui ki a au, ko te wātea ōku ki te mahi i āku mahi, a, ki te whai anō i tāku i pīrangi ai. Ko ētahi o aku hoa kua hoki atu ki te wā kāinga nā kei te rika katoa ki te hoki mai ki konei, a, ko te take i

– 10 –

pērā ai ko tāku i mea i runga ake nei—ko te whāiti o ngā hinengaro o te nuinga o ngā mea o konā. Nā, kua kite iho koutou ahakoa te ātaahua o te whenua, ki te kore te tangata e āhei ki te whai i tāna i hiahia ai, e kore kē ia e pīrangi noho atu.

Nāwai rā, kua tino hōhā nei au ki ngā mea taetae mai i te kāinga nā ki konei i tō rātou kaha kūare. Tokohia kē mai nei ngā Pākehā kua pātai mai ki a au, ‘He Māori anō koe?’ Tēnā ko ngā Māori, ka rongo ana i a au e kōrero Pākehā ana ka titiro rere kē mai ki a au—nā te rere kē pea o te tangi o taku reo ka kōrero anō au i tēnei reo. Engari ki te kōrero māoritia atu a Māori mā, kua titiro pōrangi mai pēnei i te mea, ‘Nā wai koe i kī atu kia kōrero Māori mai ki a au?’ Nā, kia mōhio mai koutou, katoa ngā Māori kei te taki taetae mai ki konei kāore i te mōhio ki te kōrero Māori; ko ētahi kei te paku mōhio ki te whakarongo, a, ko te nuinga kāore i te mōhio ki ‘ngā mahi a te rehia’. Nā, kua mōhio mai koutou ki te āhua rere kē te tangi o te reo o te tangata, arā, ki te rere kē ki tō te nuinga momo kōrero, kua tiro mākutuhia e ngā Pākehā, a, kua kīia e ngā Māori he whakahīhī. Nā, ki te kōrero māoritia atu a Māori mā, ka kīia tonutia taua tangata he whakahīhī. Mehemea he pēnei ngā Māori kei te whakawhiti pēnei mai, ka pēhea kē mai rā te nuinga inā hoki atu au?

E kare mā, kaua e riri mai ki tēnei e whakapuaki nei i ōna whakaaro ēngari he mea nui rawa atu ki a au te wātea o te tangata ki te whai i tāna i hiahia ai. Nā te mea kua rima tau au ki konei kua waia au ki tēnei ‘taonga’, a, nā taku mōhio e kore e pērā ka hoki atu ana au i āwangawanga ai au, tā koutou mōkai. Otirā mā te hoki atu anake e mōhio ai au pēhea, pēhea.

E kī ana te whakataukī, Whāia e koe te iti kahurangi; ki te tuohu koe me maunga teitei. Ko taku ‘iti kahurangi’ ko tēnei, ko te āhei ōku ki te whai i tāku i hiahia ai; ko te ‘maunga teitei’ ko te āwangawanga kei roto nei i a au e koroi ana. Mā te whakakore rā anō o te ‘maunga teitei’ e kitea ai ‘te iti kahurangi’.

Waiata Pononga

Ka tū au ki ngā huarahi
E roherohe ana.
He wahine pororaru e,
Me haere pēhea au?
Kukume ana te tiana
Ki te Hauāuru,
Ki reira kai horohoro ai
Purupuru kākahu ai
Whakakakara ai
He mea whakahīhī.
Kukume ana te wairua
Ki te Tairāwhiti,
Ki reira takoto ai
Whakangā ai
Noho kore hereherea
Ki te whai i te
Rongopai e.


I stand upon the place
of separate pathways.
Woman of indecision.
Which way shall I go?
My body is drawn toward
The West,
Where it may wallow and feed,
And adorn itself
With outward grace.
A thing of conceit.
My spirit yearns
For the East
Where it may lie
And rest
And live unfettered
In the quest
For peace.

– 11 –

Me taku ngākau …
He ngākau tōku?
E wahine pononga,
Kōtiro kore iwi!
Kei hea tāu mere pounamu,
Kei hea tō kahu kiwi?
Kei hea tōu raukura,
Kanohi ātaahua rānei?
Tū tahanga koe e kui!
Ko tāku katoa
Kei konei
He ringa pungapunga
He waewae pungapunga
He toto kōrorirori e.
Kāhore mōku tēnā haerenga
Ko tēnā ara rānei.
Te huarahi mōku
Māku tonu e topetope atu
Mā waenganui tatarāmoa
Puta tonu atu
Turi ana ngā taringa
Ki te umere
E whakaminamina nei
Ngā hua o te ao.
Whakarongo kore
Ki ngā kōhimihimi whakangāwari,
Whakamoemoe, whakamāngere e.
Ahakoa he hunao
Mātāmua te haere.
He mahi pai te kahu kiwi
Hei whakamahana taku uma mātao,
Ko te tika, ko te mōhiotanga
Hei raukura
Mō taku rae pononga.
Ko ngā hua o te mātauranga
Te mere pounamu.
Ki taku ngākau
He aroha noa iho.
Ae e porori mokemoke
Uri o te moenga hoariri
Ko koe anō,
Wiriwiri ana,
Akuāianei ka mōhio koe
Ka mōhio ki te aroha tangata.
Mā reira e hine
Ka tū koe
He uri nō ngā atua.


And my heart …
Have I a heart?
You crude and covetous woman
of no race.
Where is your greenstone mere
Your cloak of kiwi feather?
Where your crown of honour
Even a lovely face?
Denuded of all grace are you!
All that I am
Is here
In yellowed limbs
And curdled
That pathway is not for me
Neither is that.
I must hew my own way through
The tangled undergrowth
Toward the open space.
My ears are deaf
To the screaming
Of worldly gain.
Neither do I hear
Whispers and soft sibilance
Of sanguine sloth.
Although I be unfeathered chick
Forward shall I go.
Good deeds shall be the kiwi cloak
To warm my chilly breast,
Wisdom and truth
Shall be adornment
For my lowly brow.
The fruits of knowledge
Shall be the greenstone mere.
And in my heart
Shall be love.
Ah yes, you lonely waif,
Product of bedded strife,
Even you,
Oh child in arms,
Oh shivering babe,
Soon you shall know,
Know the love of man.
Then dear maid
Will you be
The kin of Gods.

nā Katarina Mataira

– 12 –

He Oriori

Hine e hine
Taku mōkai taku ngākau
Piri mai anō ki a au
E awhi atu nei.
E haere ana koe e hine
E haere ana.
Kaua e tangi e hine
E ngote ki taku uma.
Ahakoa tō pakupaku
Kia mōhio koe,
Ki tēnā kume ki tēnā
E rere atu ana te miraka
Kikī tonu ki te mamae.
Ka mutu i konei e hine.
E haere ana koe
Ki ētahi atu.
Ka riro atu koe
Arā nā rāua tonu.
Noho mai au e tangi atu nei
Mamae ana e.
Koiri ana te ngākau i te uma
Aue te mamae e.
Kia tipu koe e hine
Ka hoki mai anō pea ki a au
Kia pupuri anō au ki a koe
Kia titiro noa atu
Kia kōrero mai pea koe
E Mā, e Mā, e Mā.

nā Katarina Mataira


After tea Anzac went out across the dry, brown-grassed yard to the wood pile under the plum trees. It was cooler there under the trees, but even so it seemed too hot for exercise.

Well, Mum had said, ‘No wood, no breakfast,’ and she'd meant it too, so he supposed he'd better get on with it. If he hurried he might still be able to join the others down at the creek for a swim. He crossed the chip-covered patch to the stack of dry manuka trees where the axe had been struck heavily into the rata chopping block. You could tell it had been Richie's turn to chop the day before. Look at the way he always whacked the axe-head in so you could hardly get it out. Richie always went wild went it was his turn to chop.

Anzac curled his thin brown fingers around the warm smoothness of the axe handle and levered it up and down, then form side to side until it loosened. He didn't mind chopping—good for you—made you big and strong. He wished he was big and strong, then he wouldn't have to worry about those dumb boys at school who said, ‘You do my sums or I wait for you after school.’ And they did wait. They waited whether he did their sums or not, just because he was smaller and younger than any of the other standard six kids.

He swung the axe high over his shoulder and let it drop heavily into the flakey barked manuka stem. Now another high swing and he let it fall an inch to the right this time, slanting it into the first cut. A small chip jetted sideways, landed with a soft click and shuffled in among the parings from the day before.

Everything had been all right for him last year when Richie and Bob had still at primary school. Richie and Bob wouldn't let anyone touch him. But now they were at High School

– 13 –

and he had to stick up for himself. Well this afternoon hadn't been too bad; that was a good punch he'd given Bobo Carter—yes, right in the stomach, hard.

Hard, Anzac vee-ed into the orange-brown wood on one side, turned the trunk then vee-ed in from the other side. He judged the moment when he was almost through, lifted the axe high and gave a final whack down the centre of the vee. He tossed the ‘stove-length’ aside and began again.

He continued to chop until he had a large pile of firewood beside him. His arms ached and there was a pain in his side but he felt good—really good. He picked a handful of grass, held it to his side while he counted to ten, then threw it over his shoulder. There, the pain had gone. He stacked the wood neatly into the box on the trolley. The box was nearly full already—that hadn't taken long. Perhaps he'd just fill the chip bucket now, then go for a swim. No. No, he had a better idea. He'd go on chopping and make the pile as big as he could. Then Dad might notice it and let him have the gun. It would be good to go out over the hills after rabbits. He'd have time to shoot three or four before dark; they could keep a couple for dog tucker and tomorrow Mum would do the others in the camp oven for tea. Tomorrow was the day she made Maori bread too. Chop and chop before Dad comes out to feed the dogs.

He kept on working until he heard the rattle of the scrap bucket in the kitchen. Then he quickly stacked the extra pieces onto the box and took up the axe again. Here comes the ‘old man’—make the chips fly.

Anzac watched his father from the corner of his eye. The big man whistled gently as he ambled bare-footed across the dry lawn with the bucket. Anzac began to sing loudly to attract his father's attention,

‘A-tumble-in-a-tumble-in-a-tumble-in down
A-tumble-in-tumble-in da-own .….’

It worked. He saw his father watching him as he continued to chop and sing. Yes, he had noticed the big pile of wood.

‘You got a good stack there, son?’

‘Yeh. Good for the Maori bread tomorrow.’

‘You want to go and get us some rabbits?’


‘Right. You take four bullets and get four rabbits. Two for dog tucker. Two for kai. Ne?’

‘Too right.’

‘You go then. I can fill the chip bucket and take the trolley in. You go.’

Anzac dropped the axe head lightly into the rata block and ran across the yard into the house. Now get the 22 from Dad's wardrobe and four cartridges from the yellow and orange packet. Hurry before the others get back from the creek or Richie and Bob would want to come too. They'd be wild when they got back, and tonight they'd try to pick a fight with him.

‘Who's your girl friend?’

‘Miri Carter?’

‘Hello Miri, Hello Miri.’

‘Give me a kiss Miri.’

Well he didn't care. He'd threaten to tell Dad about them smoking. Then they'd shut up.

He was starting up the rough manuka slope now. Halfway to the top he paused and looked down towards the creek. He saw his two brothers having a towel fight to get warm; the girls had already started along the track towards home. It was cool up there on the hill. He stood for a moment letting the breeze cool his hot body. Then he hurried for the top, knowing that on the clearing over the knob, the rabbits would be waiting. The wind was just right; he'd be able to get right up close if he were careful, and he'd aim for the eye. Four rabbits, all shot through the eye. And when he got home he'd hang them on the plum trees. In the morning Dad would see them and say, ‘Good shots, son.’ Yes, lucky it had been his turn to chop tonight.

On the top of the knob he stopped, slid the bolt of the rifle back and inserted a cartridge. There was a faint click as he pushed the bolt back into place. Then he dropped onto his stomach and began to creep over the knob. From now on the only sounds would be the sharp ping of his rifle, and the deep thud of lead that is true to target.

– 14 –


This year's celebrations on Waitangi Day, 6 February, were most impressive—from the sun setting behind the Treaty House, the 21-gun salute, manoeuvres by the Band of the Royal New Zealand Navy and the Navy guard, the welcoming challenge and powhiri from the Hokowhitu a Tu group, and the floodlit ships standing in the Bay of Islands. For the first time women drummers paraded for the Naval Sunset Ceremony.

With this ceremony, his last as Governor-General, Sir Bernard Fergusson and his ‘wife were beginning, ‘with heavy hearts’, eight months of farewells up and down New Zealand.

Mr H. Te Heuheu, paramount Tuwharetoa chief, thanked Sir Bernard for his deep interest in the Maori people, and for his sound advice and guidance. He spoke of the high regard and esteem his people had for the Governor. ‘You will not be forgotten,’ he said. ‘You will be held on high.’

On behalf of the Government, Mr D. McIntyre, Minister of Lands, said that the Treaty of Waitangi was the most significant document in our history, and was the basis of New Zealand's sound development. He likened the Treaty's concept of ‘one people’ to marriage—‘easy to get into, but hard to make work’. It was up to all New Zealanders to ensure that understanding reached in 1840 were improved upon and principles of justice and equality were retained.

Sir Bernard, looking frankly at the situation, said, ‘You and I know that the process of becoming one nation is still not complete, not even after all these years, not even after all that we have shared together in peace and war.

‘We can put forward various reasons for this, but not one would account for it in full. Yet it seems to me, having thought about it hard and long, that one principal cause is our failure to exploit the opportunities which we have for getting to know each other socially, and our failure to create such opportunities where they are not readily obvious.

‘Maori and Pakeha mingle happily at work. They share in the high spirits of the wool-shed and the muster, the pub and the race track, the ranges and the rugby field, the freezing works and the forestry. But do they go home to tea with each other? Do their families get to know each other?

‘In the country places, I know they do. But in these days, when more and more Maori are seeking their livelihood in the cities and towns, is the equivalent of these country friendships springing up in that new environment?

‘It is a big upheaval for Maori individuals, and still more for Maori families, to move from places like the old kainga round this Bay of Islands, and to settle in Kawakawa or Dargaville, or Whangarei, or Auckland, or Wellington—or, indeed, far down in the South Island, where I have met many people whose roots are in Tai Tokerau.

They feel as strange as I did when I first went to school in England from my remote valley in Scotland; and not surprisingly they tend to stick together, and fail to mix—except, as I say, at work.

‘I confess that I do not quite know how we get around this. I quite agree that a Maori can't go up to a Pakeha or a Pakeha to a Maori in an Auckland street, and say, “The Governor-General says we ought to have each other to tea. Come to tea!”

‘But I do feel in my bones that perhaps we could do a bit more than we have been doing in this sort of direction.

‘What I was saying just now applies to Islanders too. We have no right whatever to think of them as teina—younger brothers. They are inheritors with us of the glories and the privileges and the responsibilities of the South Pacific.

‘I have visited all the inhabited islands which are under New Zealand's protection, and others such as Samoa and Tonga, many of whose people come to earn their living here.

‘I have been almost overwhelmed by their friendly hospitality, their deep religious sense, their love for our Queen, even in those islands that do not owe her allegiance, and by their affection for New Zealand.

‘So I have been grieved to hear that in some quarters in this country they have felt that they were neither wanted nor welcome.

‘There is an acute awareness here of our obligations to the less fortunate peoples of

– 15 –

South-east Asia, whom we are trying to help, and feed, and protect; but don't let us forget our nearer neighbours in the Pacific.’

Sir Bernard concluded his address, as he began, in Maori, thanking the people for their kindness and the warmth of their welcome.

In the New Zealand Herald next day, an editorial writer agreed that, ‘… The races work together, play together, drink together and fight for common causes together, but their home lives are generally distinct and separate. The one may fear that any overtures on his part would be rebuffed as condescension; the other that initiatives by him would be rejected as presumption.

‘The social barrier between the races is not one of colour, but one of differing traditional behaviour patterns …

‘… Sir Bernard Fergusson says the two races cannot approach each other on the street and say. “The Governor-General says we ought to have each other to tea. Come to tea.”

‘Perhaps His Excellency underrates his own influence; perhaps we have ignored for too long the direct, the simple, and the obvious approach.’

Perhaps we have!

The Gov's Got Something

Walking down Lambton Quay the other day I met a relative of mine who had been back amongst his many kinsmen in the Bay of Islands and he was full of news.

It struck me that he thought he was still in the main street of Kawakawa with its rail-track running down the centre. For my ears were assailed by a raucous greeting, ‘Hey boy I want to see you.’

I replied, ‘Well you're looking at me.’

He grinned ruefully, shook my hand and said ‘The trouble with you boy, you've been too long in Wellington and you've forgotten how to live. You've become a real city slicker just like some of our bones living in Auckland.’

I was rather nonplussed—he'd been pretty close to the mark. I endeavoured to pass off his remark by changing the subject and politely asking, ‘How is everybody?’

‘Well,’ he replied, ‘they're still breathing.’

He went on, not giving me the opportunity to respond, ‘You know, e hoa, I was at Waitangi the other week and I heard the Gov speaking. You know boy, there's no doubt about him. He's a beauty. He talked about us and you know I didn't get my wild up. Usually when I hear someone talking about me I get very hot under the collar.

On rambled my teina. (I hope he doesn't read this for he will claim that he is my tuakana. Anyway he's never heard of Te Ao Hou magazine so he won't know unless my other relatives inform him). ‘You know, e hoa, his talk struck a responsive chord in my memory! Bet you didn't know that I knew that word, ne!’

‘No,’ I replied.

‘As I was saying,’ remarked my kinsman, ‘that speech reminded me of what happened to me when I was a young fellah in Auckland about twenty years ago. I'll never forget! I left home to work in the city. Remember the old people, how upset they get whenever you leave? Anybody would think you were going to die.

‘Remember my old Kani Papa who brought me up? He was a real man and he seemed to know everything. I'll never forget him. As I was leaving he said to me, “Well moko, don't forget the things I've told you. Remember them and you will be safe”.’

On reminisced my teina. ‘Well as I was telling you, I went to Auckland. I hadn't been long in the job, about a month I think, when I got a ring from a Pakeha asking me to go out to his place for dinner. He said that old Kani Papa had written to him telling him I was in town. You know, eh boy, I didn't know that old man could write a letter, and I got a heck of a surprise to find that he knew any Pakehas. But I should have guessed it for

– 16 –
– 17 –

he knew so much about them. I said to this Pakeha, “O.K. I'll see you later.”

‘But you know, that Pakeha he knew a thing or two and he told me that he would call for me in a couple of days time at the Y.M.C.A. in Wellesley Street at 5.30 in the evening. I thought he was a bit porangi. Fancy having dinner at night instead of the middle of the day. Then I remembered my Kani Papa telling me that Pakehas called the main meal dinner.

These Pakehas have a cup of tea in bed first thing in the morning, then breakfast, morning tea, then lunch—what we call dinner—afternoon tea, dinner, then supper. They seem to be eating all the time but they never get fat like us.”

‘Well I said “yes”, because I didn't want him to think that I was ungrateful. I didn't want to hurt his feelings. But I've found out over the years that it doesn't hurt him at all if you say “no” in the first place, instead of saying “yes” then not turning up.

‘I'm sure I was the whitest or greyest Maori in Queen Street. I was scared out of my pants. “Never mind,” I said to myself, “the old man reckoned they were only people.” The chaps I worked with seemed to be alright.

‘I tried to look sick. I thought of getting hurt on the job, thought of walking in front of a tram, but didn't have what my Pakeha cobbers call enough intestinal fortitude.

‘At 5.30 there was this Pakeha in a big flash car. He said to me, “Good evening”, but it was raining cats and dogs. I still can't figure this business. I got into the car and started to think of what the old man had said.

Don't forget. The safest thing to do is to say ‘yes’, and then ‘no’, and sometimes the things you think he would like to hear.”

‘So I said “yes” … “no” … “you've got a beauty car—you must be a very rich man. You look like the real rangatira.” I think he really liked that one—no different from the Maori—all chiefs, no Indians.

‘We arrived at his big flash house. He didn't knock or walk in, but pressed a button. As we waited for the door to be opened, I started taking my shoes off. Then I remembered what the old man had said,

You wipe your shoes on the mat and you keep your shoes on.”

‘Boy that was close! My grandfather's pearls of wisdom which he had cast—I mean that he'd told me—started coming back to me like bees to the hive.

You don't just walk in as we do at home. Even the man of the house has to knock at the door or ring the bell. You wait at the door until the lady of the house comes. Don't worry when you see her all dressed up. She's not going out. This is just for you. You will be introduced to her, and don't forget to say, ‘Pleased to meet you’, even though you might be feeling unhappy. The host will probably say, ‘This is the wife’. You don't shake hands unless she puts her hand out first.”

‘Sure enough Mr Spencer, (that was his name), said, “The wife, she won't be long.”

‘“Of course,” I thought to myself, “she would be Mrs Spencer.”

‘She came to the door, said “come inside,” and she was dressed as if she were going to church.

‘The old man had warned me that I would find it a little strange because the women and kids would do most of the talking, and they certainly did!

The children won't sit back and be quiet, but will sit up at the table and join in the conversation. They will ask a lot of questions. The wife won't be standing up serving you—she will also sit up at the table and monopolise the conversation.”

‘He had also warned me to watch which knife, fork or spoon they used, but not to fall into the same trap that had been set for his older brother when he had gone to a posh Pakeha house.

‘Kani Papa's brother had followed every move of the host … using a fork for the soup … putting sugar on the roast … cutting the steamed pudding with a knife and fork … then to top it off copying the host in dipping his forefinger into the mustard pot, eating it and smacking his lips in enjoyment. My Kani's brother didn't know that his host had only pretended the eating and enjoying. Much to his discomfort, his mouth started burning, tears rolled down his cheeks, and he realised too late that his host had put one across him.

‘The host politely asked Kani's brother why was he crying, and without turning a hair he

– 18 –

said to him that he had never enjoyed such rich food in his life and that he was indeed deeply grieved that his wife, his children and all his relatives were not present to partake of such a wonderful feast.

‘That Pakeha was a real hard case, and they were good cobbers after that.

‘The Spencers’ meal was fit for a king, but not for this warrior. My mouth watered for brisket and puha and a few kumaras. This was before that crowd in Hokianga started selling them and then the blight came along.

‘I soon learned, just as Kani had said, that the purpose of a Pakeha meal is to talk, not what I had been used to—sit up, eat up, shut up and get up to make room for the others.

‘We talked about everything … how sad it was seeing the young people leaving home and other things. Mind you I kept to the “steady does it” policy of “yes” and “no” until towards the end of the meal. I had put together in my mind a beauty sentence but couldn't use it. They wouldn't ask me the right question.

‘As we were leaving the dining room one of the children said to me, “Did your grandfather eat anybody?” I said, “I'm not sure, but I heard he only had the gravy.” Mrs Spencer looked pretty pale. I was now feeling much more confident. I had a new look policy!

‘The old man's voice seemed to be there with me and everything was going just as he had predicted.

After ‘pudding’ you won't pack up your plates, but just sit until the wife gives you the signal to move out into another room. You must be careful to wait until the lady of the house sits down—not like with us, when the ladies have to wait until the men sit down. Anyway with us they'd be busy cleaning up the dishes and feeding the children.

When you go to the other room the host will not stand up and make a speech of welcome, so you won't have to worry about having a reply ready, as you do when you visit some of your kinsmen.

You must keep awake. They are not like us. With them it is rude for a visitor to fall asleep. And you mustn't sit on the floor either.

You will have to join in the conversation. Even if you do not understand what it is about, give the impression that you do. When you have something to say, make sure it is important. Try to steer the conversation round to things you know, because the ‘yes—no’ policy gets a bit boring.”

‘We started talking about diving for kinas, koura, and paua, and about line fishing. Mr Spencer was a good talker. Mind you if I had had what he had to drink, Parliament would have had nothing on us—but remember, I was only a youngster, and the strongest I had that night was iced lemon drink. Mr Spencer was such a yarn spinner that Ripleys would find it hard to match him.

‘I thought to myself, “Alright Mita Peneha, anything you can do, I can match it.” So I told him a yarn about a ‘make up’ tupuna who was diving near Kerikeri and found an old lamp that looked as if it came off a Spanish galleon. It was covered with barnacles, and eventually when the barnacles were cleared away, a light was still flickering.

‘Mita Peneha looked very hard at me and he said that he had been fishing that morning and had caught an eight foot tamure. I smiled at him and said, “I think that's a long one.”

‘You know he came back at me and said. “You blow the candle out of the lamp, and I'll cut my fish in half.” These Pakehas, they haven't got a sense of humour.

‘Not long after that defeat I heard the rattle of dishes and the squeaky sound of wheels. “My word”, I thought, “That's right, this is the Pakeha way of saying ‘go home’ or ‘we want to go to bed’—just like what the old man had said.”

After you have been talking for a while, usually between 9 and 10 p.m., the lady of the house will rise, say ‘Excuse me,’ and disappear. By this time of course the children will have long since been taken off to bed—not like ours, who stay up until the bitter end. She will return either carrying a tray or pushing a trolley. The end of supper is your signal to leave. You must thank the lady of the house first, then your host, not like us, when you thank the eldest first and then your host.”

‘We drank our tea and had some kai, had more talk, then I waited for about a minute, stood up, and repeated the magic sentence that had been taught me. I said thank you to Mrs Spencer first, then Mr Spencer, and I looked around to say thank you to the kids. Then I realised they had gone to bed.

‘I reckoned I was doing grand. After ex-

– 19 –

pressing my gratitude I said I must leave. Then Mrs Spencer interrupted me and said, “Please stay a little longer.” The old man hadn't clued me up on this one, so I resumed my seat and sat on until well past midnight.

‘I caught a taxi back to the Y.M.C.A., wrote a letter to Kani Papa telling him of my debut, and was eagerly awaiting my next visit to the Spencers.

‘The weeks went by, the months, and it wasn't until two years later when I returned home and was telling Kani about that wonderful evening, that the truth was revealed to me by my Kani.

‘“Aue boy, I should have told you that when Mrs Spencer said ‘Please stay a bit longer’, she was only being polite, and what she was really saying was, ‘the sooner you leave the happier I will be’.” ‘

My relative looked at me and said, ‘Well, that was in the olden days. Things are much different now and I think the Gov's got something.’

He looked at me and smiled. ‘See you later. Be around Sunday with the Missus and kids. I'm off. Got to get the double.’

—Na ‘Townie’


Following a dinner for 200 guests last October, and a public meeting early in December sponsored by the Otara Maori Tribal Committee, a ‘steering committee’ to commence the big project of a Maori, Pakeha and Island marae was formed.

This project is the idea of the Otara Maori Committee whose president is Mr Rangi Kiro, and secretary Mr Richard Kake, both of Otara. The original aim was the provision of a marae for the Otara area to cater for the growing population and provide a recreational and cultural centre of learning for the great number of Maori children, youth and parents who have migrated to Auckland and are, because of employment and our twentieth century, living virtually divorced from the home maraes throughout New Zealand.

This project when presented met with such enthusiasm that it quickly snowballed beyond the first plans, and it was decided to make it a multi-racial centre, inviting Islanders and Pakehas to participate, co-operate and take an active interest, and to extend the boundary to include the whole of Manukau district.

It is too early yet to say with any accuracy just how it will be, but a modern marae is planned, with a Whare Runanga being representative of all the major canoes, and with facilities for tangis, huis, weddings, recreation, culture and the learning of arts and crafts.

The late John Waititi, used the word ‘marae’ in his text books, Rangitahi I and II, as a ‘plaza or courtyard’, a word used in this sense by both Maori and Pakeha, yet in the deeper sense, the traditional sense of time past, still held too by many present-day elders, as something more than just a courtyard but ‘tapu’ in veneration for the now most important rite, the tangi. This is true, and when a person

– 20 –

imbued with tribal pride or a person of notity passes away—then no distance is too great to travel to the ancestral marae and burial ground. However, Auckland is frought with a problem which is of growing concern to Maori and Pakeha alike—the tangi held in the back yard of a State Advances home in Otara, ‘pepper-potted’ in a European community, on State Advances ground, traditional Tainui territory, with the deceased often buried in a foreign field. This is not an isolated incident but a frequent one. The tangi is overcrowded, inconvenient to all concerned, and loses some of the essential mana of the marae. With the growing pace of Auckland, which at present has the largest concentration of Maori people in New Zealand, it is not always convenient to travel to the now often vacant home marae. One gentleman I met at the December meeting, one of the leaders of a North Auckland tribe, has all his people residing in the Auckland area.

The number of Maori and Polynesian children is increasing in both primary and secondary schools. Apart from the isolated home training and those fortunately able to travel to home maraes, especially the excellent marae at Mangere, the greater number have no cultural centre or a ‘home away from home’. Here then lies the challenge to all Maori people, elders in particular—what about the children and youth of today? Traditionally their cultural centre would be the home marae. The twentieth century and its ever increasing growth frustrates this almost to the point of imposibility. Why then should they be deprived? In my opinion, sacrifice of tradition in one or two directions would be far wiser than total loss in the next generation.

Youth today is a continual problem for parents. TV, pictures, hotels and being on the streets after work with time to kill only too frequently engender trouble and friction with the law. Maori youth has no place to go, has nowhere to learn his traditions, or even to practice a waiata, haka, poi, carve or weave, or hold his weddings and huis in the setting of a marae. This then is why Otara, a major suburb of Auckland with the projected population of 200,000 by the year 2,000, only 33 years away—another generation—needs now your support, for it is your guidance, counsel and wisdom given to your children and people who now reside in Auckland, Otara and Manukau, that will help and encourage this scheme for the mutual benefit of all.

Primary schools in Otara have an average of just over 50 per cent of Maori and Polynesian children on their rolls. Even Pakeha teachers with their limited knowledge who have Maoritanga at heart, are passing on and reviving the arts and crafts, carving, kowhaiwhai, tukutuku and waiata. This honest endeavour by teachers in their restricted time of class curriculum, could be greatly expanded and improved by the establishment of this marae. This then is yet another part of the challenge accepted by the Otara Maori Committee to supply that long-awaited need—‘a home away from home’—a Maori - Polynesian - Pakeha marae.

An estimate of £12,000 as an initial financial objective has been set. Therefore, there will be a lot of work, many back-breaking tasks and much sweat and tears. There will be criticisms, discouragement and many problems. However, the project has been launched, an accountant and a solicitor have been appointed, giving status and impetus to the project. An architect's plan has been tabled to stimulate thought. To date, the scheme has the blessing of the Manukau City Council, the Mayor of Manukau, Mr Lambie (President elect of the Steering Committee), the Mayor of Otahuhu, Mr Beddingfield, Mr Phil Amos, M.P. for Manukau, Social and Welfare workers, religious leaders and many leaders in the educational field. What it needs now is your help and constructive criticism, advice and suggestions, and above all your earnest striving for peace, goodwill and unity.

Maoridom today realises that it must move with the times, as is evidenced by the infusion of modern life in education, employment and occupations, housing and clothing, etc. and in the use of modern materials in the construction of modern maraes—glass windows, locks for doors and fittings, roofing iron, paint and varnish, concrete and electricity. The newly formed Ngati Otara have caught a yet wider vision in this project, which is believed to be the first of its kind in New Zealand by planning to provide for the traditional needs of a multi-tribal and multi-racial urban community.

Your correspondence offering suggestions and advice would be appreciated.

Kia Ora ra koutou katoa.

Ike A. Amos,

5 Daphne Avenue.


– 21 –

An Adventure at Sea

It was on January 28th 1930 that my father Wiremu Rudolph sold my 32-passenger boat Raurimu to George Wairama. George pleaded with my father for some days for me to take Raurimu to Ahipara. My father agreed, as I had a Marine Certificate. My father told George to prepare for the journey. George said everything was ready on board—fuel, food, oil, life jackets, life buoys and lights.

I went down early next morning about 6.00 a.m. I had to walk about two miles to get to the boat. George and Stevens were waiting for me. On my way I remembered that I had not said my prayers. I got on board the boat and we travelled down to Whangape harbour. We anchored there for ten minutes. The two men on board with me were George Wairama who was the new owner of the boat and Walter Stevens the mechanic.

George called out, ‘Pull the anchor up,’ for us to go out of the harbour. I said, ‘No, not yet! The sea is still unsettled,’ but George made us go out. We went out alright. As soon as we got out of the harbour, George put his fishing line out in the water.

We passed Herekino harbour, and I said to Stevens, ‘Something is wrong with the engine,’ and then I noticed Stevens was seasick already. He asked me to take the wheel, so I did. He said he would go and look at the oil cups. He went out of the engine room, and returned 15 minutes later. I asked him what was he doing, not tending to the engine. He did not reply; instead he cursed furiously while I was saying my prayers. I asked Stevens again what the matter was. He kept on cursing, then told me that the tin of oil which was bought from the store the day before had been emptied and filled with salt water.

We travelled for about an hour and the engine stopped, so we anchored out. Then I scooped all the oil from under the engine, put it through a funnel into a bottle and put that oil in the cups of the engine. We were there for two hours before I could start the motor again. We again travelled for an hour and again the engine stopped, so we anchored again. We tried and tried to start the motor—but no go! Stevens the mechanic was very seasick. George was not as sick as Stevens was.

The waves were coming through the skylight. George and I started baling the water out, and after a while he said to me that my back was covered with blood. I felt with my hand and noticed it was covered with blood. The mark is still on my back. George called out not to bale any more, so we went to the back room where Stevens was lying seasick on the bunk. I said to my crew, ‘Get ready in case of emergency,’ so we all put on our life jackets and tucked our clothes in my suitcase with Stevens' watch—the time being 5.20 p.m. George threw overboard the suitcase, which was wrapped in a life jacket, and also some benzine.

George then pulled his line in a little, said ‘There's nothing on it,’ and threw it back in the water again. Stevens called out, pulled it in, and to our surprise, there was a huge shark on the line. It just came up without any trouble, did not even pull the line, and lay on the surface beside the boat. Stevens grabbed my iron spear to kill the shark. I tried to take the line away from Stevens, and we struggled with it. Stevens wanted to kill the shark. He said, ‘This b. thing will eat us in the water.’ I told him not to kill it or else there would be more trouble for us, and George told Stevens to listen to me as I was the Captain.

At about 5.30 p.m. the rope of the anchor broke, and I saw my crew jump overboard. I stayed with my boat. The boat turned right over. When I came to the surface I heard Stevens calling to George, ‘Where is Huia?’

I replied, ‘Here I am.’

They shouted back, ‘Go for your life.’

I went under again, came up and saw high rocks. Looking back, I saw a large wave coming, so I dived under the waves and when that wave had passed me I found myself clinging to the rocks. After a brief rest I climbed the rocks. I saw George coming in

– 22 –

with the waves towards some rocks well out. I saw him trying to stand on the rocks, but the next wave knocked him right over again.

I walked down to the beach, picked up my suitcase and the benzine, and unwrapped my clothes. Stevens' watch was still going and some of my clothes were still dry. The time was 5.40 p.m.

It was full tide when I landed, but the tide was going out when George landed. I went out to help him. His face was cut from the timber of the boat. He asked me to watch for Stevens. He knew I was saying my prayers all the time even when we were working on the boat. After he had a rest, he told me he would go to the settlement to break the news.

I cut my life buoy rope with a sharp rock, and joined it with the leather strap from the suitcase to make a long line. I went out as far as I could, and called out to Stevens to grasp the life buoy as he was floating with only his life jacket on. I threw the life buoy out three times before he managed to get his hands in it. I dragged him towards the rocks and caught his right hand. I pulled him onto the rocks and massaged his body. The water poured from his mouth and nose. I tried to pull him to his feet but he was too weak to stand. There was no life in him, so I carried him like a baby to the warm sand. I stripped his clothes off, dug a hole in the sand, and placed him in the hole and buried him with the warm sand which I had gathered with the suitcase.

At dusk George came back with a crowd on horseback. They asked me, ‘Where is Stevens—any sign of him yet?’ I pointed to the hole, where only his face was showing.

The crowd went over to Stevens and spoke to him. Stevens moved and realised he was naked. He said some bad words for taking his clothes off. The crowd clothed him, and he went to Ahipara gum fields.

The following day I was brought back to my home at Pawarenga.

I remember this happening, when I found out that by saying my prayers, I had saved my own life and the lives of the other two men, as I could not swim myself. My prayers to Our Lord were answered.

by Cecilia (Huia) Perkinson

– 23 –

To Those Ngawha Children

Remember that usual morning chorus, right after my Vauxhall was parked?

Miss, may I take your hand?
Miss, I want this one!
Miss, Miss, Miss! Carry your bag, please?
Ohhh, Miiiiss!

Ah, yes; you made music. At unexpected moments these strains still come to me, maybe from the shiftings of my memory, or maybe they blow in from off the Pacific. Before they are gone I am back among you, my little Maori scholars of Tai Tokerau.

I used to think that with my native tendency to indulge children I was a treat for you. You surely were a treat for me. To have city school children in America run to me so in the morning didn't happen. And you were so willing to do your lessons that I became more ambitious myself. I remember the feijoas you brought me, the big gooseberries, the passion fruit, and especially those mushrooms, always with your eyes flashing. We had a good thing going, eh? In many ways you let me see that I was in the right post. For what I did, you gave me life dividends.

And after those three good, memorable months in school with you, up in that winterless north, which really was mild that year, remember?—it was time to go.

One of my keepsakes is that last sunset over Ngawha Springs. Have you ever watched that sun, slipping away behind its uncertain flush on the scruffy manuka? For some reason I like that. Steam was rising from the natural baths, and the people in them talked back and the forth as they simmered amongst the bubbles.

On that special evening, while you were out there somewhere nearby, around your houses, I tested the water in each pool until I found the right one, then I eased down into its dark warmth. I don't suppose the talk there would have impressed you, but to me it was new, and in its special turn of the tongue I found it lively and enjoyable. It wove and held the people together, like notes in a song.

From another layer of my mind, as energetic as rabbits in the hills my thoughts began jumping around, over both islands. Bingo! I was back in the Makado Cafe in Dunedin, where a tall American negro had caught me off-guard with his gleaming smile. Oh, how that smile made me sharply long for home! I ordered a hamburger.

Then, presto, I was forcing myself, by sheer desperate grit, to go on with the tramp over the merciless Milford Track. Say, those countless rocky stream-beds, those innumerable ups, and those mocking, smacking, deep-sucking slushes, well! And yet, it was during that sacrificial Christmas walk that I fell in love with your country: through its relentless demands and inflictions of pain, the awes and joys its beauties inspired, its unforgettably arch-cracking, blister-breaking, inescapable rocks, its fern frond wavings and pulsating bird calls, all going on at once and mixed up together almost forever—New Zealand confidently emerged, the conqueror. I was well won.

Back on O.M.S., my heart was light at the sight and sounds of teams of kids sprucing up their classrooms. And I was savouring my some-hundredth cup of sweet hot tea in very good company.

Actually, on that night while I was soaking and half-listening and relishing tender new memories, I was packing those memories—and impressions and images and the like—to take away. I had the thrill of the haka, put in a good place where it would always be handy. Near it was the excitement of seeing and hearing the elders' oratory on the marae, and I would also take the good feeling I got from the reception of your people at huis and in their homes. I knew I would want these treasures, and others like them, for a long time, so I settled them in my mind and heart

– 24 –

with special care. And remember the tape I had of your voices? That was the little pathway you have taken to America.

I got out of the bath. I had been well off before, but now there was an added something, in my blood it seemed, a welcome, giddy lightness that had reached into every fibre. I thought, ‘In the end, e hoa ma, when we say “goodbye”, just give me more of this good intoxication that goes with the tangs of tropical fruits, the feel of your firm full handclasps, that certain stimulation of the well-ripened pot of tea, the enchanting harmony of mountains and glaciers and rivers and lakes and hills, hills, hills, the elegant grace of the taller pongas in the ngahere, even the physiologic confusion of too many fish-and-chips, the fun of seeing all the bombs on the road, and yes, give me more of the magic that goes with the bite of the Wellington wind, and with that wrench in my chest at a tangi. And that wonderful spell of the out-pouring of good-will and fellow-feeling and generosity and utter warmth given to me by my little ones. That's you!’

When I left your country, I brought a lot more of all this back with me. Sometimes, even at night, as now, I sense the welcome echoes of the chorus—Riu wanting my hand, Phyllis running up for my bag, young Sarah, Garry, Davina, Gilly, Gus, Lucy, Karani, Chris, Terry, Richard, Sophie, Maureen, including the subdued sound of you, Peter, walking beside me without a word.

Peter, you take my hand this time. Of course you're three years older now, and there's all this space in the way. Still, maybe you are pleased to remember to kuramahita, Peter, and will be, even when you are a man. I hope so.

An even bigger hope is that I have left each of you with some lasting feeling that you are glad to keep. You gave me quite a few. And then, I hope that one day, I will be seeing your bright, winning smiles again, grown even fuller, and that your eyes will still be flashing.

Until then,


Mrs Brereton.

– 25 –

Picture icon

Members of the Ngati Poneke Club perform at the opening ceremony

Wellington Maori Arts Festival

From its opening, by the Minister of Maori Affairs, Mr J. R. Hanan, the Maori Arts Festival held in Wellington from 8–16 April was a great success. The Governor-General, Brigadier Sir Bernard Fergusson, although unable to attend, was delighted to act as Patron, wished the Festival every success and expressed his confidence in a ‘happy and resounding outcome’.

Festival President was the originator, Mr Arthur Cornish of the New Zealand Display Centre, who with Mr J. McEwen and Revd K. Ihaka made up the small organising committee. Many others took part in convening various activities during the festival, and probably the most lasting memory for those involved will be the friendliness and co-operation shown by individuals, organisations, business firms and above all, the local Maori clubs.

Exhibitions were set up at Broadcasting House, the Turnbull Library, the Dominion Museum and the Display Centre, many ‘family treasures’ being lent for public display. Downstage theatre presented The Golden Lover and readings of New Zealand poetry, cooking demonstrations using Maori food were given daily, there were mid-day open air demonstrations at Civic Square on suitable days, and a lecture on a moa camp archaeological excavation was given at the museum.

Hundreds of children of all ages came through the Display Centre, watching the making of flax food baskets and piupius, and taniko work. Several Niuean women showed their skill at weaving baskets and table mats, and many children had their first lesson in Niuean weaving.

Eight first-year apprentice carpenters from the Petone Institute of Technology worked on

Picture icon

National Publicity Studios photographs
Carpentry apprentices at work on their garage. Instructors with them helped answer the many questions on the Department of Maori Affairs' Trade Training schemes

– 26 –

Picture icon

‘Tranquility’, D. N. Carr's Prizewinning portrait in the ‘Polynesian Head’ competition
photograph by Bill Beavis

Picture icon

Visitors discussing the photographs, carvings and paintings in the Department of Education's display

Picture icon

Porirua East children ready to sing to Toh Puan Raha. The carpet on which they are sitting was commissioned especially for the festival
National Publicity Studios

a garage in one corner of the large display area. While a model kitchen built by second-year carpenters and expert plastering done by a first-year plastering apprentice were also shown.

The highlight for many visitors was watching Mr John Taiapa and two apprentices who had come for three days from the Rotorua carving school, and Mr Charlie Tuarau who continued the demonstrations for the remainder of the week.

Displays by the New Zealand Army, the Arts and Crafts branch of the Education Department, the Justice Department (examples of Maori craft work done by prisoners during their hobby periods), and excellent collection of native plants, and an exhibition of the work of Maori artists (featured in our last issue)

– 27 –

Picture icon

Wallace Heteraka of Whangaruru and Jim Fergus of Taradale, two apprentices from the Rotorua Arts and Crafts Institute
‘Evening Post’ photographs

Picture icon

Niue Island women demonstrate weaving. From left: Mrs M. Walsh, Mrs T. Mokalei, Mrs M. Ioane Kanavatoa, and Mrs T. Vekula, a master weaver
— a ‘Dominion’ photograph

Picture icon

While the R.N.Z.A.F. Band plays in Civic Square, five girls demonstrate pois. Back row, from left: ACW S. Kahukura, Wanganui, Corp. E. Rigby, Wairoa, and ACW J. Miru, Auckland. In front: Corp. T. Hibbard, Ohakune and ACW H Moko, Maketu
National Publicity Studios

– 28 –

filled the main display area.

Picture icon

Mrs R. Agar weaving food baskets at the Display Centre
National Publicity Studios

Featured in other parts of the Display Centre were entries in three competitions—mural, ‘Polynesian Head’, and children's colouring, a photographic display, and several paintings by artist Selwyn Muru. Of special interest were Goldie and Lindauer prints, original purchase deeds for land in the Wellington area, and many priceless artifacts.

Talent quests were held daily, and each evening a different programme was arranged: a Junior Proms concert with boys and girls from Hato Paora and Turakina Colleges; demonstrations of Powhiri, action songs, pois, games and hakas by members of three Wellington Maori clubs; songs and dances by a Tokelauan group; an All-Nations Proms Concert with national dress and special items from many countries; an unforgettable Maori-Polynesian Concert, when six clubs presented items to a delighted audience in a packed Town Hall; and a grand ‘Night in Polynesia’ Ball.

Special guests at the Junior Proms Concert, challenged by the Halo Paora boys, were Tun Abdul Razak, Deputy Prime Minister of Malaysia, his wife Toh Puan Raha, and their official party. Toh Puan Raha returned next morning to have a leisurely look at the display, and was delighted with the impromptu singing of Maori songs by infants from Porirua East primary school, who had come with their teacher to the Centre.

Hundreds gathered for a hangi at Oriental Bay on the Saturday afternoon, where the food was served in flax baskets made during the week.

Festival Week ended as it began, with choral singing, but this time at a combined Thanksgiving Service in the Town Hall. However, with several competitions still open and static displays still on view, public interest in the Festival remained high. Plans are under way for another festival centred on Waitangi Day, 6 February 1969.

competition results:

Polynesian Head: D. N. Carr, ‘Tranquility’, 1; Mrs Louise Nathan, ‘Tamahine’, 2.

Mural: Selwyn Muru, 1; Mr M. Forsey, 2.

Photographic: Black and White: Mrs Y. J. Cave, Wanganui, 1; R. Woolff, Wellington, 2; Colour Prints: W. H. Britton, Auckland, 1; W. Hitt, Auckland, 2; Colour Slides: W. H. Britton, Auckland, 1; R. Woolff, Wellington, 2.

Results of the talent quest and carving competition are not yet available.

Picture icon

The food baskets are put to good use at the Oriental Bay hangi
‘Dominion’ photograph

– 29 –

How to Make
a Rourou
or Food Basket

To make a rourou or kono, four blades of flax are needed. The sides and midriff are stripped to make an even width. Use the four double pieces (no wider than 1£½ inches) joined together at the bottom. The size of the rourou depends on the width of the flax. Do not use the strips too wide.

Picture icon

No longer than 2″

To begin weaving, place the first piece on an angle to the right, and bend the top strip back over to the left.

The second piece is placed to the right of the first and the top strip bent back over it to lie parallel with the strip to the left.

Place the third piece to the right of the others and bend the top strip back over one and under one.

The fourth piece is placed to the right of the others and the top strip bent back over one, under one and over one. There will now be four strips to the left and four to the right.

– 30 –

The edge of the basket is formed by bending the right hand strips under and plaiting them to the left until there is only one piece to the right.


Begin with the bottom right strip and bend it under one, over one and under one.


The next strip bends under one and over one.


The third strip bends under one. There will now be seven strips to the left and one to the right. The surface of the flax is changed as it is bent to make the edge.

Picture icon


Picture icon


Picture icon


When there are seven strips to the left and one to the right a corner will be made. The corners are woven from the outside of the basket and it is important NOT to alter the surface of the flax when making a corner.

With the left hand, and working from the left, flick the first strip up, the second back, the third up, and the fourth back. The next strip (fifth) is placed through these four to form the corner.

Still use the left hand to flick the four strips into position and place the next strip through.

Use the above method to plait the third strip through the four pieces so that there will now be three strips to the left and five to the right. Tighten the plait so that there are no gaps. This completes a corner.

– 31 –

Repeat the ‘edge turning’ process shown on the previous page until there are seven strips to the left and one to the right.

Repeat the process for making a corner so that at the completion of it there will be three strips to the left and five to the right. You will have completed two corners.

Continue in the same way until FIVE corners have been made. The first one fits inside the fifth. If the flax is not long enough, four corners will do, but the finishing is easier with five corners.

To finish the basket, weave the ends in on the outside, starting with the piece nearest the middle of the bottom. Each flax strip will correspond with another piece in the weave. They need only to be caught under one piece to be anchored firmly. Trim the loose ends to complete the foodbasket.

– 32 –

Women's Health League

Kia Hiwa Ra Kia Hiwa Ra—‘Be on the alert to prepare for any danger that may threaten the welfare of the people through illness, disease, or neglect.’ This is the cry of the Women's Health League, Te Ropu O Te Ora, an organisation formed in 1937 under the guidance of Nurse R. T. Cameron.

When she came to Rotorua as District Nurse in 1931, health problems faced Miss Cameron everywhere. The district was so large it was impossible for one woman to make any real impression, so she sought the co-operation of the chiefs in each pa. These men gave their wholehearted support, and women's committees were formed in each pa to deal with health and home nursing.

Every two weeks the chiefs led their women and children to their meeting house, where the District Nurse treated minor ailments, gave medical advice, discussed health problems and conducted maternal and infant welfare clinics in 24 centres. Each committee had a woman of high rank as president, a secretary to keep records of meetings, births and deaths in the district, and a treasurer.

The next few years saw a great improvement in health, but there was still more to be done. The women wanted to work to a definite plan, so at a large gathering of women at Tunohopu meeting house, Ohinemutu, on 2 September 1937, the League was founded. The movement spread further, reaching the East Coast and including the Tairawhiti and Whakatohio districts. A flag with the colours of green and white and a tiki badge were chosen as the League's emblems.

Many schemes to improve health were begun. With the co-operation of the Health Department's Medical Officer, the League started supplying free malted milk to school children. The League collected the money, the men of the pas undertook the work, and the Department supplied the equipment. For years, until fresh milk was available, this service continued, and the children were weighed regularly, showing marked improvement.

As well as working for water supplies, sanitation, free hospital service (through its own ‘social security’ scheme), free milk supply for Maori schools, and a dental clinic with free transport, the League tackled housing conditions. With assistance from a Maori Land Court Judge, and the Department of Maori Affairs, a housing scheme was begun at Hinemoa Point.

In 1940, the League faced the problem of

Picture icon

Like the picture above, this photograph was taken at Ohinematu during the League's 25th Birthday Celebrations

– 33 –

accommodation for the relatives of Maoris in hospital, and at the March 1942 conference, attended by Mrs Peter Fraser, Patroness of the League, the Government was asked to subsidize a hostel. With a site and financial help given by the Government, and materials, timber and money given by the Maori people, the hostel at last became a reality. Called the ‘Janet Fraser Memorial Guest House’ in memory of the League's Patroness who had died in 1946, it was opened by her husband, the late Mr Peter Fraser, then Prime Minister, on 28 August, 1948.

Members of the Women's Health League Inc. still stand firmly united to do everything possible to improve the home-life, health, and welfare of the Maori people, and to promote fellowship and understanding between Maori and Pakeha women. As well as their aims to improve health, and to encourage the planting of gardens, all members learn Maōri arts and crafts, especially weaving, (using Maori dyes), and also Pakeha home-making crafts. Most of the League's 40 trophies, some of which are memorials to early members, are for craft work, and there is always keen competition. Junior Health Leagues have been formed in many areas and they too compete for trophies.

Each member pays an annual subscription of 5/-, half of which is forwarded to the Central Committee, the rest being used by each local branch to carry out the aims of the League in its district—buying demonstration materials, and helping members in sickness or misfortune.

Picture icon

Some of the League's trophies

Conferences are held every six months in March and September, the September conference also including Birthday Celebrations, when a tree is planted on the host marae. It is decided at the end of each conference where the next one will be held, and the chosen branch has six months to prepare for the hui.

Last September's celebrations were held at Rotoiti, and the most recent conference at Horo Horo, both being opened by Mr P. T. Watene, M.P. for Eastern Maori. The next conference is to be at Muriwai, Gisborne.

The suggestion made last September—that meeting houses be used as holiday accommodation for mothers and children—has already been put into practice. Visitors go from inland town to the coast and vice versa, taking their own bedding and cooking requirements, and having a wonderful holiday.

Four hundred pounds has been given to the Waikato University Halls of Residence appeal. This contribution, covering the cost of a study bed unit complete with furnishings and a share of dining, kitchen, lounge and other facilities, is to be recognised by a small plaque over the doorway.

Great co-operation exists between the Women's Health League and the Maori Women's Welfare League, members of both organisations helping each other in ‘behind-the-scenes’ work at conferences, and joining forces in many kinds of community work.

The achievements of the Women's Health League over the last 29 years are a tribute to the vision, love, and hard work of its founder Nurse Cameron.

– 34 –

Picture icon

One of Parewahawaha's two amo. Like all the carvings in the house, on opening day this one carried labels identifying the figures.

The opening of the Parewahawaha meeting house at Bulls on Saturday 15 April climaxed almost twenty-two years of work.

It was an exciting day, with hundreds making their way to the marae before dawn in buses, cars, and on foot. The sky was cloudless, and the scene was quite beautiful as the first rays of sunlight reached the meeting house, picking out the figure of Kupe at the top, Parewahawaha and her eight children on the centre pole, and the eight canoes on the barge boards.

As several buses bringing elders from Waikato were delayed, Queen Te Atairangikaahu waited outside with her people, while members of the powhiri group practised their welcoming haka, and kept warm with action songs and dances. A spirit of expectation and goodwill prevailed amongst the people in the large crowd, and they were entertained by the dancing and amusing antics of some of the old people.

The excitement increased as the Queen and her elders drew near the gate, and after the powhiri, the crowd listened and watched in silence as the karakia was chanted and the Waikato people moved slowly towards the house. A greeting was exchanged with a senior member of the Parewahawaha tribe who stood at the entrance, then the Queen and her elders stepped over the paepae and led the way into the house. Her people followed for the short service inside, and in Raungaiti the dining-room alongside.

Mihimihi and breakfast in the large marquee followed, the day grew hotter, more people came, and at noon Mr R. E. Jack, Speaker of the House of Representatives, arrived at

– 35 –


the marae for the official opening. After the challenge, the official party was welcomed by Mr Joe Rene.

Speeches were made by representatives of the Town Board of Bulls and the Rangitikei County Council, and by Mr Ormond Wilson, a local member of the Historic Places Trust, who told the history of the piece of land on which Parewahawaha stood. Mr N. E. Kirk, leader of the Opposition, described the building as one of the finest examples of Maori art and achievement in the country, and hoped that it ‘will be a rudder and an anchor for the young people who leave this district for new occupations.’

During the service which followed, the Rt Revd H. W. Baines, Bishop of Wellington, commended the work of the late Taylor Brown, Bill Parker, Henare and Mere Toka, Kelvin Kereama, Hapai Winiata and over 200 others who had had some part in the project.

Before declaring the house open, Mr Jack also paid tribute to Taylor Brown, and many others who had worked on the house. ‘Many have not lived to see this day, and knew they would not see it, and it makes this opening an act of dedication,’ he said.

After a benediction and dedication the official party entered the house to unveil a window given by the local Pakehas. Sandblasted in attractive shades of brown and green, and complementing the colours in the house, the scene shows the meeting between Maori and Pakeha.

The dining hall was similarly opened, and official proceedings came to a close with a banquet for all special guests and visitors.

Parewahawaha stands as a fine achievement by many people over many years. May the spirit of co-operation so much in evidence on opening day, ever remain.

Picture icon

Queen Te Atairangikaahu with elders from Waikat o advances across the marae

– 36 –

Picture icon

‘Taranaki Daily News’

People and Places

Picture icon

Fred Maynard National Publicity Studios

Brief Return to New Zealand

Miss Kiri Te Kanawa, at present studying singing at the London Opera Centre, returned to New Zealand in February at the invitation of the New Plymouth Bowl of Brooklands Trust, to give two performances in the tenth ‘Festival of the Pines’.

An estimated 9000 attended both concerts, given by the N.Z.B.C.'s Little Symphony, with Kiri as soloist. Kiri is pictured above with the orchestra's conductor Juan Matteuci.

Kiri was delighted to see her family and friends during her short holiday in New Zealand, and has returned refreshed to continue her studies in London.

Top 1966 Apprentice

Fred Maynard of Manutuke, Gisborne, an old boy of Gisborne Boys' High School, was top electrical apprentice last year. He is now completing his apprenticeship with a private contractor after completing his first year in Auckland under the Maori Affairs Trade Training Scheme.

– 37 –

American Field Scholarships

Picture icon

Robin Kora

Among the 54 secondary school pupils chosen to travel to America in July to study for one year in American schools under Field Service Scholarships are two Maori students, Robin Kora of Te Aute College and Serena Maheno of Kaitaia College.

Serena, whose parents are Nelson and Marigold Maheno, has taken a commercial course and is a prefect at her college. She enjoys playing basketball, hockey and baseball, and watching rugby, and has a variety of hobbies including dancing, record-playing, reading, riding and window-shopping. Serena hopes to take up as a career either commercial teaching or office work.

Robin Kora's parents Peter and Betty (nee Waitere) come from Wanganui River and Levin respectively. Robin's sports are rugby, tennis, softball, athletics and swimming, and he too has many interests—photography, forums, watching people, walking, driving, reading, shooting, flying, drama, concert-party work, and listening to classical records. He is Te Aute College's head prefect.

We wish them both success in their studies.

Study at East-West Centre

Another person to travel overseas is Miss Iwa Mataira of Titahi Bay, Wellington, daughter of Pera and Meri Mataira, who is undertaking a three-month training course at the East-West Centre in Hawaii. The Centre awards scholarships for their ‘Women's Career Development’ programme, and the project in which Iwa will take part is the ‘Management of Sanitary Beauty Shops’.

Iwa, who has been working in the beauty salon at a large Wellington department store, will have training in all phases of the management of beauty shops—hair styling, cutting and sanitation.

Picture icon

National Publicity Studios

– 38 –

Kotahitanga Cub Pack

Picture icon

The Kotahitanga Cub Pack

In November 1965 a Wolf Cub Pack was started at Marton Junction, eight Maori and three Pakeha boys meeting in the Kotahitanga Community Centre Hall. After a year the numbers increased to 20, 13 being Maori. As well as the usual Cub activities, the boys have learnt Maori stick, string, and hand games and have made several educational visits. This photograph was taken during an outing in the bush.

The older boys are now ready to be Scouts, and a troop is starting in the same area.

Visit to Te Aute

When travelling to Wairoa in February, the Minister of Maori Affairs, Mr Hanan, paid his first visit to Te Aute College. During lunch Mr Hanan congratulated the boys, saying that for a school with only one hundred pupils, their rate of 16 School Certificate and four University Entrance passes last year was unparalleled in New Zealand. This year, with 20 boys in the lower sixth and two in the upper sixth forms, more examination successes were expected.

Mr Hanan is pictured with the headmaster, Mr N. O. Vickridge, and some of the sixth from boys including some Solomon Islanders.

Picture icon

— a ‘Herald-Tribune’ photograph

– 39 –

New Hostel Opened

Mr C. M. Bennett, Assistant Secretary of Maori Affairs, opened a new boys' hostel in Wadestown, Wellington on 28 January.

This was the result of a bequest made by a retired carpenter, who left nearly £12,000 to the Maori Education Foundation and his home to be used as a hostel for young Maoris.

Apprentices working under the Trade Training Scheme renovated the old house and built a new dormitory block.

Called Ahumairangi, the new hostel is run by Ashley and Ruth Salisbury and Ivan Rickard.

After the ceremonies, visitors and boys were given an excellent afternoon tea, including a hangi-cooked meal.

Hostel Block Finished

Picture icon

Mr C. M. Bennett opens Ahumairangi

Christchurch carpentry trainees also finished work on their new block, at Te Kaihanga Hostel, Hanson's Lane, and it was opened on 14 February by the Minister of Maori Affairs, Mr J. R. Hanan. The Bishop of Christchurch, the Rt Revd A. Pyatt dedicated the buildings, and the boys entertained the visitors with action songs and a haka.

When speaking Mr Hanan said that in spite of the measures taken to offset the low prices for our goods on world markets, the number of apprentices would be increased, and the building of hostels and flats for Maori young people coming to the cities would continue.

Picture icon

The recreation hall at Te Kaihanga Hostel.

Picture icon

Te Kaihanga boys in action at the opening ceremony
photographs by National Publicity Studios

– 40 –

New Zealand Maori Council
‘Meets the People’ at Omahu

Representatives of the eight District Councils of the New Zealand Maori Council met at Omahu, Hawke's Bay, from 7–9 April for the annual ‘meet the people’ hui.

Reports of council activities in the eight districts were given, and discussions followed on many aspects of these reports. Problems varied in each area; from a major drift to the towns from one area, to large-scale arrivals in another area.

Mr Graham Butterworth and Mr Dennis Rose addressed the meeting on ‘The Maori in the New Zealand Economy’. These two men were largely responsible for the recently published report on the same topic—the result of research following a request made by the Council to the Department of Industries and Commerce in 1964.

During the weekend, Mr Alex Kirkpatrick spoke on ‘The Maori in Industry’, and Mr N. P. K. Puriri, Assistant Controller of Maori Welfare spoke on ‘Some Welfare Problems of the Maori’. His main point was that ‘We must start to help ourselves, and not sit back and ask others to help us’. He said that some Maori people, over-sensitive about racial relations with Pakehas, were themselves ‘pretty hard’ on their cousins, who were coming from the Islands of the Pacific to find work in New Zealand. He also urged those present to encourage their young people to know their family and tribal history—‘The boys who are getting into trouble are the ones who don't know where they are, because they don't know who they are,’ he said.

Brief reports were given by three women: Mrs Kaipara of the Women's Health League, who stressed parents' responsibility in their children's education, even though they may have had little education themselves—going to headmasters to discuss courses available to their children; Mrs Sage of the Maori Women's Welfare League, who requested that men help the women in their work with young people in penal and psychiatric institutions; and Mrs Harlen who told of her work with young Maori men in a penal institution—work which had a small beginning but was now almost a full-time job, with the boys learning carving, various crafts, their own language, and taking up courses of study.

Highlight of the weekend was the arrival

Picture icon

Adelaide Hakiwhai presents Lady Fergusson with a bouquet photograph by Martial Georges

– 41 –

of the Governor-General, Sir Bernard Fergusson, and Lady Fergusson for their official farewell by the Maori Council.

The vice-regal party was challenged and led onto the marae by Mr Taanga Tomoana, and greeted by Mrs Reremoana Hakiwhai whose granddaughter Adelaide presented Lady Fergusson with a bouquet.

Brief speeches were given by representatives from each district, and farewell gifts from the Council—a totara maripi (carved by Jim Fergus, a Taradale boy serving his apprenticeship at the Rotorua Maori Arts and Crafts Institute) and a paua brooch and earring set—given to Sir Bernard and Lady Fergusson. Anzac Pierce, who as a boy had been presented with an award by Sir Bernard's father, was chosen to make the presentation.

Sir Bernard thanked Council members for their gifts and expressions of loyalty, and urged all present to strive for greater understanding between Maori and Pakeha races.

Hastings Girls' High School Maori choir and the Hawera Silver Band entertained the crowd. After chatting informally with grownups and children on the marae, the guests joined the people for a banquet, spread by the people of Omahu. (Actually, all the meals during the weekend were banquets!)

When Sir Bernard and Lady Fergusson left the marae, they were surrounded and fare-welled by a happy confident group of children—another evidence of his mana and of the aroha they had for him.

The wero-stick used when the Governor-General was challenged at Omahu, carved by Mr Baden Batt of Greenmeadows, is of special significance, showing the history of the meeting house.

At the top is Tamatea-Ariki-Nui, who came from Hawaiiki, and whose mother-of-pearl shell eyes signify that he came from afar. Further down the stick, also with eyes of mother-of-pearl, are Te Arai-Te Uru and Ruamano, two tipua, or demons, who accompanied the Takitimu canoe on its long journey. At the bottom is Toto, wife of Tamatea-Ariki-Nui, with eyes of paua shell, signifying that she as of the tangata whenua.

Their son Rongokako married Muriwhenua and to their son Tamatea-Pokai-Whenua and his wife Iwipupu was born Kahungunu. Kahukuranui, after whom the meeting house at Omahu is named, was the son of Kahungunu and his fourth wife, Rongo-Mai-Wahine.

Tapu Lifted

At the close of the Council's meeting, the tapu on the meeting house, Kahukuranui, was lifted, to enable the work of demolishing to begin.

The ceremony was performed by Pei te Hurinui Jones, and prayers were made by Canon J. Tamahori, chaplain of Te Aute College. The chairman of the New Zealand Maori Council, Sir Turi Carroll, withdrew the first nail from the building.

The meeting house was to have been demolished several weeks before, but was left until after the ‘meet-the-people’ weekend. Just as all tribes were represented at the ceremony, it is hoped that all will again be present when the new meeting house is opened.

It is hoped that the new house, to be built by the Omahu people, will be completed before the end of the year.

Going Back

Why are you always talking old woman?
talking about going back home.
‘I must go back,’ you say,
‘All the old people are dying,
I must go back before they're all gone
Go back to what, I wonder,
to lose your smile on friendless faces
and end your journey in the mud and gorse?
Your would scarcely recognize
your once green gentle valley,
nor know your kinfolk now.
So settle down old lady,
one foot tucked under your squatness,
the other tapping bare-toed on the floor,
sit and remember the old faces,
they have all gone back, but for you.

Valerie Fox

– 42 –
– 43 –


To those bleak cliffs set in an icy sea,
Which even sea-birds shun, Ui's canoe
Drove swiftly in. The slimy weed which grew
Amid the breakers crashing endlessly
Clutched at them vainly as they ran aground
And dragged the vessel up. Beyond the reach
Of the seething undertow each looked to each,
Silent and apprehensive. Ranged around
The gaunt crags loomed, in a glowering demon-world
Of flying spume… Then proudly Ui spoke:
“Now is the ocean ours. It owns our sway
From this grim coast to where the blue waves curled
Sparkling on our paddles as they broke.
Let others follow; we have led the way.”

—G. L. Pearce

This poem is based on an ancient legend that a Polynesian chief, Ui-te-Rangiora, voyaged southward from Fiji about 650 A.D. in a canoe Nga-Iwi-o-Aotea.

During the course of the voyage he is said to have seen many wonders—a foggy, dark place not seen by the sun, bare rocks that grow out of the sea and reach the skies, a sea covered with pia (which is interpreted as scraped arrowroot), a deceitful animal which lives in great depths, and a woman of the sea whose hair floats on the waves.

These descriptions appear to refer to icebergs, floe-ice, seals or sea-elephants, and floating kelp, and it has been suggested that Polynesians reached Antarctic waters. This was doubted by Sir Peter Buck, but references to ice-bergs and floe-ice need not necessarily imply an Antarctic visit, for there is an area east of the Chatham Islands where floating ice is often sighted in the latitude of Wellington.

Other possible explanations are that Ui-te-Rangiora visited the South Island Fiords or even went further south as far as the Auckland or Antipodes Islands.

Some colour is lent to this last suggestion by a discovery on Antipodes Island in 1886. A fragment of pottery, similar to early Polynesian work and apparently part of a bowl, was found there about 2ft. 6in. below the surface. It is now in the Dominion Museum.

– 44 –
– 45 –

Mother and Sons

—the soliloquy of a dying mother

When I am gone, they will be glad, my sons,
All glad. Yet after I am dead
Could they forget this dying skeleton upon the bed?
Fearfully clinging to life; hating to live
Yet fearing death. Could they forget
And only remember the warmth of my breath
Years ago? Or when the voice did harshly ring,
Could they remember the love that forgave this thing?
Then some day, perhaps, beneath the crude walls
Of some mill, somewhere within a young man's mind may echo,
‘Aue! Kua mate taku Mama. She's dead.’
Or if this other, my eldest, be loosened for a minute
From the worries of the other woman, his wife,
Then perhaps within his mind may echo also,
‘Aue! Kua mate taku Mama. She's dead now.’
Or in the late evening of a dying day
On that last stretch of road home from the mill
Perhaps even my youngest may think,
‘Aue! Aue! Kua mate taku Mama.-She's dead. O she's dead now.’

Rowley Habib.

– 46 –

St. Faith's Re-dedicated

On 8 April St Faith's Anglican Church at Ohinemutu was rededicated after two years of renovation.

Built in 1910 and consecrated in 1918, its seating capacity has now been increased to 250 from 180. Other additions are new carvings, a Maori Christ on a sandblasted window and a commemorative window for the returned men of two world wars.

The original St. Faith's, built in 1885, was the first Christian Church in Rotorua.

Governor's Artifacts Lent to University of Waikato

At the University of Waikato's first graduation ceremony, during which an honorary doctorate

was conferred on him, the Governor-General, Sir Bernard Fergusson, announced his decision to lend his collection of Maori artifacts to the University.

He said that the artifacts were very precious to him, partly for their intrinsic worth, but mostly because of the affection with which they had been given. He will hand them over at the last possible moment before leaving New Zealand.

– 47 –

A Play Centre is Born

…in a small settlement on the East Coast

The mothers had the impression that Play Centre meant taking their children to the Play Centre for the Supervisor to teach. They were told that they were to bring their children and stay with them, that the Supervisor was not going to look after them. If they did not attend they were to send their children with someone the child knew.

1st Day: Mothers were asked to sit and observe their children at play. They sat, and they watched, and you could see absolute blankness on their faces.

After five minutes some of the mothers began chatting.

After ten minutes they began forming groups and chattering away about things in general.

2nd Day: The same thing happened.

3rd Day: One of the mothers came forward and said, ‘What am I supposed to be looking at?’

The Supervisor said, ‘Good for you! At least you've been looking for something.’ A meeting was called to discuss what they'd been looking for.

At the meeting the mothers discussed observations of the stages of development of a child, how at first he notices shape, and so on. Observation forms and Discussion forms were distributed. The mothers were then asked if they would like to have a better understanding of how their children would develop physically and mentally. They all agreed they would.

Enquiries were made as to when the Liaison Officer would be visiting the area, dates were fixed, and the mothers went forward from there.

Each mother was asked to choose a ‘play’— one that she would be interested to develop. This was done. They now hold discussion days once a month to see which play needs more equipment, why the equipment is necessary and how their play is developing.

When items have to be bought for the Play Centre there are no arguments. Enquiries… yes, explanations … yes, but this comes through the discussions, and every mother sees the importance of having good equipment. The mothers also have the right to grow in understanding of how to assist their children constructively in the art of living and learning socially, and the instilling of confidence. Personally I think parental involvment is important. Then, if the Supervisor or Committee members have to be replaced, the work goes on regardless, and the standard of work does not fall.

All parents have the right to voice an opinion.

– 48 –

The Colour of Our Country

Shall the lily scorn the rose where it blows, richly red? Shall the rose in profusion trammel the lily, or itself he eaten back with a canker deep within its heart?

Have we a colour problem in New Zealand? Indeed we have a problem. How unnatural the garden that has no problem, no need for an adaptation of soil and climate, of tending and pruning, or nurturing and weeding. But does our problem include the specific one of colour or do we use the colour-problem as an easy alibi for neglecting our true responsibilities, so that we tend to adopt a laissezfaire attitude towards our gardens.

The Great Gardener has set them side by side, the fair-skinned and the dark; one temperamentally austere, rigid within a pattern of tradition that stems from 19th century England, from Puritan and Christian, from rules and regulations, from factories and financiers; the other flowing free, graced by the rich symbolism of primeval forces.

Cultivated and cherished they will grow side by side, complementary in colour, wise with the wisdom of the west, permeated by the poetry of Polynesia.

But who shall tend them, who shall guide them? Who search the problem and seek its solution?

In the past the dignity and courage of the Maori warriors forced the white settlers to acknowledge that here was no uncouth primitive but a race of people of moral stature that commanded respect; and beyond the selfishness and greed and the enmity of the Pakeha there shone the light of justice, truthfulness and duty which inspired the confidence of the Maori and so tolerance was born from mutual appreciation.

Isolated from comparative communities, the establishment of harmony proceded unhindered in its new-born pattern within these Pacific islands. From time to time adjustments were urged, argued and amicably arranged. Life slipped easily, slowly by, the daily adaptations of living being unconsciously absorbed by both Pakeha and Maori.

Then suddenly, in a threat to their mutual homeland, dark skinned and fair, they stood steadfastly side by side. Twice they were called to test their loyalties, twice they responded.

But a breach had been made in the protecting walls of the garden. The occasional pest of the past was superseded by an avalanche of mud that has besmirched the lily and clogged the rose.

Even the Pakeha, conditioned by inherent training to adjusting quickly to changing patterns of life has had difficulty in maintaining his standards; has, in too many instances, been overwhelmed by the speed and mechanisation of the daily rhythm, by the wealth and abundancy of a synthetic society and by the overthrow of old behaviour patterns.

The Maori, still moving gently, with dignity, towards the older standards, has been caught ruthlessly and violently between two opposing worlds.

Centuries have been telescoped into two generations; there has been no time to clear back the weeds, to prune the rose or rescue the lily. The barbaric and the primitive are rising to oust the orderliness, the stateliness and perhaps the too extensive rigidity of a former age.

The young Maori, dazed and disrupted, as has been his Pakeha counterpart, has followed the glow-worm lights that lead through dark channels to the cavern of the towns. He stumbles and falls—he cries out in anger. His white mate, bludgeoning forward, lends no hand; he, too, staggers on amidst the rocks and boulders that beset his path. The elders of the tribes have deserted their young. They are themselves too busy pressing on and upward towards the myriad tantalising lights that glow so richly for their picking and dissolve so swiftly at their touch.

Pakeha! You, with all your centries of living in the cities of the old world—you are finding problems in living in the cities of today. Your sons and daughters are facing problems you never knew in your youth, and not always finding the right answers. Can you shrug your shoulders and forget the plight of youth? Do you sit in your garden, in the luxury of the sun or beneath the glamour of

– 49 –

your man-made stars, while the weeds throttle your most precious plants? Do you really believe that youth is being ‘cherished and cultivated’ as is their right? Or are they being left very much to fend for themselves, to sink or swim—and too often it is to sink—amidst the loneliness and dross of some trashy white-woman's ‘bed-sitter without meals’. And when it is the Maori, easy-going and ill-equipped who falls victim to undesirable elements, do you read with a hint of haughty scorn that ‘the crime rate among Maoris grows at an alarming pace’. Could it be that the frost-nip of fear startles you into an awareness of the profusion of the rose so that—within the shelted of your garden—you arrogantly proclaim, ‘the colour's running wild—there'll always be trouble with these young Maoris' while, leaning on your garden gate, you tell the passerby that ‘everything's fine here—I have no problems—everything's equal in my garden’.

Get up out of your chair, take your arm off the garden gate—and get to work! Build some good homes for your Maori youth—and for your own children who must come to the cities. Good hostels with community centres and educational facilities and room to accommodate some of the elders of the tribes. You can run up, very quickly, a new state office complete with all modern devices for yourself; be as urgent in the provision of housing for the young. And provide the young people with good hard satisfying work, not make-shift easy-money dead-end jobs. And withal, exchange one large quota of haughty indifference with but one small quota of humanity.

And Maori friend! Remember, white is not always right. Some of New Zealand's Pakeha youth are a travesty on our heritage; they have bespoiled our culture, they sicken the soil of our homeland. Do not imitate them. You who of yourselves have a nobility and dignity, a rare and precious culture of your own, hold fast to your ideals; teach your own youth to maintain those standards that we can respect—teach them that they may also be teachers of the Pakehas, that we may know the full richness of your language and your tribal life.

Understanding and mutual interest, tolerance and forbearance are the tools that will bring our garden to full fruitfulness. With or without a certain pigmentation of skin we would not expect two persons or two families of widely diverse interests necessarily to become completely absorbed in one another. Racial background, home environment, hereditary capacities, schooling, social interests—these are the points of contact, these the points on which problems are poised.

Colour is but the flame which, used with discretion, can burn the weeds, but used in passion and anger will destroy the garden and the home.


Maori Theatre Trust

He Mana Toa

News of the Maori Theatre Trust's excellent production of James Ritchie's He Mana Toa spread through Wellington so fast that by the end of the week-long season—part of Unity Theatre's jubilee festival last March—long queues waited outside the small theatre and the audience filled every available space.

Originally written as a ‘sound and light’ production for the 1965 Hamilton Arts Festival, with tape-recorded sound and mimed action. He Mana Toa was this time given Richard Campion's expert direction, Leigh Brewer's striking and sensitive choreography, a full and vocal cast, and electronic music effects by Douglas Lilburn.

The play is in three parts. In a prologue,

– 50 –

small groups of present-day Maoris in a variety of situations—at work, relaxing, at a party—sense ‘something’ from the past which has an effect on their actions, feelings, and attitudes, and this is summed up in a sweet and simple song …

‘Yesterday I knew my name and my beginning …
… I look down to the valley
Once my ancestors were owning
And I search around tall buildings …
… I search those city faces
Either love or hate they're showing …
… So I look up to the morning
Where the first daylight is shining …
…And the voices all around me
Seem to know what I am knowing
And they can give me nothing but myself.’

The main part of the play is the enactment of the separation of Rangi and Papa, Sky Father and Earth Mother, dramatically and beautifully accomplished. As the story unfolds, the children one by one detach themselves from the muddled heap of offspring, and explain their characters, the reasons why their parents must be separated, their plans for the future and their relationships to one another. Modern expressions—even some highly topical quips, and sometimes very funny demonstrations of their talents, interpolated into the deities' poetic prose relieve the dramatic tension, until with the youngest son Ruamoko's anguished but futile objection to his brothers' plan, and his determination to make his presence felt after the plan is fulfilled, the drama is heightened once more and the portrayal of the separation is completed.

The story of Te Rauparaha which occupies the second half is so different from the dramatic legend that at first it seems tame by comparison. The terrible deeds credited to Te Rauparaha are only briefly mentioned, and he is shown as a young warrior, a great leader surveying the land he has conquered and finally as peacemaker and friend of the missionaries. Highlights are two deathbed scenes and the episode of the kumara pit.

It seems that in this second half James Ritchie is trying to show that at various times in his life, Te Rauparaha is exemplifying in turn the chief attribute of each of the deities, from Tane to Ruamoko.

After the death of Te Rauparaha, his son Tamihana is shown as the wavering victim of two cultures, being at the same time a laughing stock to his people and the prime example of a ‘failure’ to the missionaries. Tamihana is an almost farcical character, and the play seems to be drifting towards banality. However, in the last glimpses of Tamihana, as the ‘spirit of the warriors’ begins to develop in him and he shows the glimmerings of leadership, and in the singing again of the song from the prologue, the atmosphere of the mysterius knowledge of ‘something’ within the young Maori is regained.

So much for the play, which in spite of some weak links and poor lines has moments of great insight and wonderful drama.

But what of the players?

The most exciting thing about the whole production was the realisation that here was an immensely talented group of young New Zealanders showing the theatre-going public the potential in two fields. First, the rich cultural heritage of our country, a virtually untapped reservoir of traditional stories awaiting dramatic presentation. Second, the people best qualified to present these stories. I say this unhesitatingly. It was a pleasure to hear from almost every member of the cast such pure, unaffected English, spoken with unforced power or warmth as the occasion demanded; to see such natural dignity and graceful movement; and to recognise in these young players an added sense of pride that they were portraying their own heritage, part of themselves.

Outstanding among the performers were Don Solomon and Karin Jurgensen (making her first stage appearance) as Sky Father and Earth Mother, George Henare as Tangaroa, Chief Elkington as Ruamoko, and Joshua Gardiner as Te Rauparaha. Other members of the cast were Tom Ihaka, Ross Waters, Ron Lynn, Auntie Millie Clark, Tawhai Richmond, Sue Hansen, Ngarangi Mill and Donas Nathan. Production, designing and lighting effects were the work of Don Selwyn, Peter Keiha and Lionel Willison, and Koro Dewes narrated legend and story.

The Maori Theatre Trust has so far had no success with its application for financial backing for a planned major production, and has been forced to ‘start small’. Although perhaps frustrating to the keen founders of the trust, this disappointment has possibly made them more than ever determined to suceed. He Mana Toa, ‘Spirit of the Warriors’, was thus

– 51 –

a most appropriate choice. With its success, the Trust is paving the way to greater things and is proving itself worthy of support.


The Golden Lover

The Maori Theatre Trust is no longer a dream on the part of a few enthusiasts. Within the space of a month they have made an impressive debut with two completely different types of play which have caused Wellington's theatrical buffs to sit up and take notice. First came He Mana Toa—a high drama and a serious probing of the Maori's attitudes to his traditional beginnings and to the Pakeha influence on his ancient beliefs and culture. Now, presented by ‘Downstage’ with the full co-operation of the Trust, we have The Golden Lover—high comedy and great good fun. Like its predecessor it received not inconsiderable acclaim from local critics. The Evening Post called it ‘excellent fare’. The Dominion talked about ‘comedy delightfully played by a competent cast… ‘Of the players, the critic said ‘… their sense of timing is all a director could wish for’.

As with He Mana Toa, The Golden Lover provides a window on Maoridom, but this time it highlights the Maoris' penchant for making fun of themselves. It abounds in the type of humour in which Maoris indulge amongst themselves when there are no Pakeha present. In this the playwright, Douglas Stewart, has not only succeeded in painting a convincing picture of pre-European pa life, but he has made his characters completely believable as Maoris, which is no small feat for a Pakeha. There are plenty of the standard gimmicks of Maori humour, of course—the fat one of the ‘snoring stomach’, the shrewish wife who upstages her husband, the clucking old kuias—but this is also a play full of genuinely funny lines and situations.

Bob Hirini was superb as the fat idle Ruarangi and his performance was ably complimented by Auckland Pakeha Shirley Duke as his flirtatious wife, Tawhai. Don Selwyn gave a strong and dignified portrayal of Tawhai's father whilst Harata Solomon and Thelma Grabmaier entertained as Tawhai's mother and a gossipy kuia respectively. Kuki Kaa is almost type-cast in local plays now as a tohunga, and he brought an appropriately sinister air to the role of the Tohunga ta makutu, Te Kawau. Tim te Heuheu as the bashful young brave in fruitless search for casual copulation was also convincing. Regrettably the one weak spot in an otherwise consistently strong cast was Ray Henwood as Whana the golden lover. Mr Henwood is no mean actor, but unfortunately he was miscast, and just did not look or sound the part as the noble chief of the patupaiarehe.

Richard Campion's direction was sure and thorough and throughout the play Douglas Lilburn's electronic music and sound effects did much to heighten an atmosphere already effectively created by good lighting and a first-class set. In this respect Lover was streets ahead of He Mana Toa and showed that a small stage need be no bar to effective staging.

What now of the future? I may be a sentimentalist but it gave me a terrific thrill to see these (mostly) young Maoris standing straight and confidently and beautifully articulating the sounds of our common language (Don Selwyn was particularly good in this respect). By teaching young Maoris to move, speak and act confidently the Trust should prove a valuable training ground for members of conventional Maori cultural groups and for this reason it deserves the full support of such clubs. Both the plays have opened exciting vistas for Maori theatre. Unfortunately both these Wellington offerings were to restricted audiences. In making a start the Trust has perhaps wisely not set its sights too high, but there must surely be a wider audience for theatre of the calibre which the Trust appears able to offer and the Trust must seek it out. The Maori people must also give the Trust their support, for it can be a powerful propagandizing agency. The Maori has for too long been inarticulate. The Maori Theatre Trust offers Pakehas an opportunity to evaluate our young people and the contribution they are capable of making to the artistic and cultural life of our country. In this respect the image which the Trust can project, judging from its recent performances in Wellington, is a strong cause for legitimate pride by us all.

Alan Armstrong.

– 52 –


As indicated in previous issues, young people are welcome to send in contributions in art and language for this section.

These poems were written by primer children of Pakotai Maori School.

A little tree
And a big sun,
And the tree is crying
Because the sun is too hot
and the hill is laughing.

Mary Tautari, P. 4

I am a black-backed gull,
I am flying up to the sun,
A little boy shouted
‘Look up in the sky!’

Jo-Anne Grace, P. 4

In snow
A bird sings
Like a chirruping sparrow,
As white as white can be
Like snowy white.

Mary-Jane Rudolph, P. 4

The birds are dancing and singing
And one bird is counting
In the big, old, tall tree.

Mark Rudolph, P. 3

Huia Slater of Homewood, Masterton, describes a well-known event.

Shearing Time

Down in the morning, coming closer to the wool-shed, are the panting sheep.

Shepherds are whistling and yelling at their dogs to keep them in place, and to make the sore-footed sheep move faster to their destination.

In the sheep-yards the lambs are being separated from their mothers and some are crying desperately for their mothers.

There is clattering and banging of gates and tins to make the sheep move faster.

‘How many sheep have you got in there, boy?’ says one of the shearers.

‘About six hundred,’ replies one of the shepherds.

The sheep are now in the shed. The chattering of people is loud but is soon drowned by the drowsy and moaning sound of motors that start up and the buzzing and clicking of the hand-piece with a comb-like cutter at one end to cut the sheep's wool.

Then suddenly up get the bold and huge shearers striding towards their greasy doors. They fling them open, each grabs one of the sheep. With rippling muscles, they then dāg them back through the swinging doors, with their blood vessels showing through the skin on their faces, and strain in their arms.

Picking up the greasy hand-piece they start cutting through wool which peels off the skin. As it does so, the wool sparkles in the sunlight.

The shearers first start to cut off the wool from the belly down in between the hind legs and around the back, where they do the crutch with short-long blows. Then the eye wicking is done, and they move quickly half-way down the breast and come up the throat. They pull the wool over the head, then over the left-hand side with long blows. Now they have finished that side they move quickly down the last side of the sheep.

After that the sheep plunges out through the opened porthole into the race ready to be counted out.

Now a poem from a Wellington boy

Cemented buildings,

Sculptured and controlled;

Rolling down to the sea

Frowned upon by forests

on the hills.

—Ian Matheson (17)

– 53 –

Kindergarten Teaching

When she completed her training at the end of 1964, Gloria Thompson of Auckland, the writer of this article, was the first Maori student to gain her diploma with merit. She received a special award, enabling her to visit kindergartens where there were large groups of Maori children, to find ways of encouraging Maori parents to take a more active interest in the work of kindergartens.

The Kindergarten Teacher today has a great responsibility. She must be mature enough to work easily and intelligently with parents and adults. Her professional duties are considerably more than child minding. The quality of the work that is carried out in her kindergarten will depend upon her suitability for the teaching profession, so she must have a warm personality, an eagerness to learn, clear speech and an interest in music and other creative arts, as well as fondness for children.

Soon after graduating in 1964, I began teaching at the Logan Campbell Free Kindergarten here in Freemans Bay, Auckland. The Kindergarten is unique because it is a multiracial one.

From my short teaching experience I have found that understanding, sincerity and tolerance in my attitude towards these children and their parents have brought me pleasure and effective results.

Kindergarten Teaching is a lucrative career, but I feel that it far exceeds money. I advocate Kindergarten Teaching as an admirable and satisfying profession for Maori girls because I feel that they are natural with children and are able to anticipate their needs and because they have a pleasant manner which instinctively draws children to them.

At this time of the year, when girls are beginning to think seriously about their future careers, the Kindergarten Association makes every effort to bring pre-school work to the notice of likely candidates.

The local Free Kindergarten Association is responsible for all the Free Kindergartens in its area, the four largest Associations being Auckland, Wellington, Christchurch and Dunedin. At these four centres, training is given covering a two year course.

Part of this time is spent at lectures and related activities at the Kindergarten Teachers' College and part of the time gaining practical experience of Kindergartens.

The Course

The Principal, College Staff and visiting Staff, lecture in the following subjects:—


Child Study


Child Development


Child Psychology


Family Life


Principles and Practices of Pre-School Education and Kindergarten Administration.


Theory of Pre-School Education.


Health Education and Nutrition.


Children's Literature.


Speech Training.


Nature Study.


English Language and Literature, Speech and Drama.


Committee Organisation and the Conduct of Meetings.

– 54 –



Art and Handcrafts.


Physical Recreation.

Some time is given to observations of children in Infant Schools and with other organisations that work for children.

Qualification for Entry

Applicants who have passed the University Entrance or School Certificate Examinations are eligible for the course.


Although the Department of Education does not set a minimum age level, for applicants with School Certificate, those 17 years of age or over are considered more suitable. Those with University Entrance are encouraged to study Education at University as part-time students, with a view to completing a degree. The bursary scheme for teachers in training is extended to Kindergarten students.


An applicant must be in good health, and free from any physical defect that would affect her work with children.

A warm personality, poise, eagerness to learn and to accept responsibility, clear speech, and interest in the creative arts and a fondness for children, are all qualities essential to a member of the teaching profession.

Student Allowances

Successful applicants receive a Department of Education allowance at the rate of £305 per annum which is increased to £340 for those with University Entrance. In addition, there is an allowance of £66 per annum for those who board away from home.

This allowance paid to the successful applicants is not regarded as a salary, but as a grant towards general expenses such as books, overalls, fares and board.

It is compulsory for students to join the Government Superannuation scheme.

Entrants are required to sign a bond which requires them to give two years service in a free Kindergarten in New Zealand after completing the course.

– 55 –

Picture icon

Children at Myers Park Free Kindergarten with the Director, Mrs Challis, follow the story of ‘Peter and the Wolf’ in pictures as they listen to it on a record.

Residence while Training

Hostels: In Auckland where I trained, we do not have a hostel of our own, and it is the responsibility of each applicant to make her own arrangements for accommodation. However, five hostels usually have some accommodation available at the beginning of each year. Intending applicants should apply early for this accommodation.

Private board: A certain amount of private board is available. Late in January, an advertisement is inserted in the local newspapers, and a staff member inspects the accommodation offered. Those who have difficulty in making their own arrangements may contact the accommodation officer at the college.

Flatting: The Board of Studies of the Kindergarten College does not approve of flatting, as in the past problems have arisen when girls have had difficulty in studying or have been ill. Should parents decide to allow their daughters to live in a flat their written approval is required, and the College accepts no further responsibility.


In addition to positions as Directors or Assistant Directors, further opportunities are available to girls of ability and educational achievement. These include senior and supervising positions, positions on College Staffs and with the Department of Education.

The selection committee meets in the third term each year to interview applicants, so if you are interested, apply now!

Hui Amorangi at Whangarei

A youth forum was an unusual feature of Whangarei's Hui Amorangi, held on 4–5 March, pupils from Whangarie Boys' and Girls' High Schools and Kamo High School taking part.

Guest of honour was the Governor-General, Sir Bernard Fergusson, who was welcomed by the Bishop of Aotearoa, the Rt Revd W. A. Panapa, and the Bishop of Auckland, the Rt Revd E. A. Gowing. During his speech, Sir Bernard showed the 800 people at the welcoming ceremony two patus, given him a year apart by the same man. The first had been for the Governor to use in bringing Maori and Pakeha together and the second to try to bring the Chruches together.

Many people helped with preparations for the hui, animals were donated, and all worked hard to make it a success.

– 56 –
– 57 –



National Council of Churches, 15s

(Ken Hills was formerly Vicar of Porirua and is now Industrial chaplain in a Social Group Ministry in Birmingham.—Ed.)

The first thing to be said about this small (about 80 pages) book is to welcome it, on two counts: First, because it has some very valuable things to contribute to the question of race relations generally, which should commend it to anyone seriously interested in the mass of communities which we call New Zealand. In particular a very important analysis of the (or some of the) perspectives from which the question can be viewed, and, of very special importance, the dangers of over emphasising one or other of them—which we generally do, even in official circles, and thereby set the seal of failure on our well-intentioned efforts.

The second reason for welcoming this study, on general grounds, is the ‘theory of Race Relations as a basis for policy’. This is not the easiest of reading, but is undoubtedly valuable—and practical. It is a three-stage description of the movement towards and away from each other in a situation where there is a majority and a minority. I'll leave you to read it, but will pick out three things for special attention when you've grasped the general theory. One, is a summary of ‘The Reasons why N.Z. race relations are relatively good’—the usual theme for smug self-satisfaction; but this summary is realistic, and leaves no room for satisfaction with our present state. No one reading it should be left without the knowledge that they personally are involved in improving relationships. Two, is the author's statement “the negative stereotype of the Maori is an articulate and concrete expression of the values which the majority intends to protect.” I think this can be said of the Maoris negative generalisations about Pakehas too. If the reader, Maori or Pakeha, realises that when he thinks or repeats some hoary old blanket-description of the other race he is really merely saying something very revealing about his own stiffness and insecurity, he will be ready to appreciate the third thing I want to underline; when the third stage ‘Mutual Inclusion’ is reached, I quote; “Both groups (Pakeha and Maori) will have gone through a process of resocialisation (with the majority doing most of the socialising) and mutual influencing in face to face, smaller, intimate groups.”

In this, general, section there are just two criticisms I would suggest. The first one is Dr Mol's persistent use of ‘westernisation’ as being the same as ‘urbanisation’. It seems to me that this is unhelpful for ‘westernisation’ carries undertones and historical connotations which might rightly be resisted. Further, ‘urbanisation’ is in most respects, in our age, a new thing which is by no means ‘western’ merely. It is the revolution of our age which is embroiling all men alike—and bewildering them regardless of race of historical background. The Pakeha is often by no means on his own home ground in the new urban revolution, and is in no position to paternalise his own country cousin let alone rural Maoris.

The second criticism is that not enough is made of Ritchie's comment that the intricate structure of ‘maoritanga’ has “… an amazing similarity to the rural proletariat … in any part of the western world”. If urbanisation is inevitable, as seems to be the case, then the most important things about maoritanga will be (quoting Metge) that “adaptability has always been the real strength of Maori culture”, for Maoris with adaptability will be prized citizens of any race in the painful business of urbanisation.

This brings me to the sections which deal with ‘What the Churches say they do’ and ‘What they actually do’ (which aren't as different as one might have thought). The constant criticism of the protestant and Anglican churches (who comprise his publishers, the N.C.C.) as amorphous and unable to influence the behaviour of their members is paired with the comment that they are thereby dedicated mainly to protecting old values. This could mean that they are busily preserving Maoritanga while utterly out of touch, in practice, with what is happening in the modern, urban, world.

Dr Mol has a dilemma! He is writing for

– 58 –

the institutional Church as represented in the existing structures of the National Council of Churches and dutifully analyses the amorphousness and cohesiveness, respectively, of them and the Roman Catholic churches and the Mormon religion. At the same time he feels bound to point out that cohesiveness sought as an end in itself would be disastrous, and is anyway by no means all that it appears to be in the R.C. and Mormon institutions (he has particularly interesting comments, from the race relationships point of view, on the possibility that Maoris, who form two thirds or more of Mormons in New Zealand, find therein not a new religion so much as a way to ‘westernisation’ while avoiding assimilation by New Zealand's Pakeha majority). However, he reveals his real conclusions in the very valuable last chapter. First, for the churches as they are at present structured, he gives what he frankly calls ‘Patchwork Recommendations’. These are really creative, stimulating suggestions and should be read by every pastor, lay-reader and other member of the ‘People of God’ with an honest eye to present shortcomings in his church community's engagement (or lack of it) in the problems of race relations and understanding of Maori culture and “the painful, but only way to congruity”. But, lastly, his ‘Basic Renewal Recommendations’ are based upon the even more exciting insight: “It is around the intrinsic dynamism and vitality of the Christian faith that new forms can crystallise. The adaptation of both Maori and Pakeha christianity to a changing world should have this dynamic core as the centre.” He urges the churches to freedom to experiment within the race situation with new forms of its life in which cohesiveness happens with smaller, intimate, face to face groups, within which persons of all races truly meet, influence each other and, together, change. Here, ‘aroha’ is no longer the Maori name for a typically rural characteristic to be gradually lost as “young Maoris achieve Pakeha individualism”, but a race-transcending Grace to be found at the root of life itself when men meet each other in meaningful and creative relationships—to which the “intrinsic dynamism and vitality of the Christian faith, crystallising in new forms, bears witness”.

This is an important book, the outcome of the initiative of the National Council of Churches whose ordinary, local members will, I trust, receive it, as the author suggests, in study booklet form with modern methods of use outlined in it. Meantime, to anyone who can read it, churchman or not, I urge: this is an important contribution to anyone's understanding of race relations in New Zealand. It is a bargain at 15s.


Routledge and Kegan Paul, 30s

New Zealand is fortunate to possess at the moment a group of authors who are gifted students of the Maori. Constant research and contact with the people gives their work an air of reality. They have to be ‘with it’: they have to sort out, often from a welter of conflicting evidence, details of things Maori … customs, history, attitude, warfare, religion and many other complicating factors. Others less conscientious can present their material, depending on the attitude of the writer, with tongue in cheek, or as a tome of anthropological jargon. Serious students have to be fair. Not merely do they have to have a firm grasp of their subject in both theory and practice, but they have to explain how and why changes have occurred. Finally, they always have to stimulate. Joan Metge is one of this group.

One could say that there are far too many books written on the subject. One could also say; ‘what is their earthly use?’

The analysis of a people by a ‘name academic’ usually leaves one cold, the language being in most cases far too technical for people like myself. The writer does not come under this classification. This book is one of a series dealing with studies of societies throughout mankind. Dr Metge has probed deeply and has avoided the pitfalls of superficialities.

Quite early in the piece, the reader is impressed with the writer's humanity, her warmth and fair mindedness, and the reader also senses that she is a person who looks at the Maori with friendly and honest eyes.

There is no doubt that people who will read this book will like it. They will benefit considerably from the author's years of re-

– 59 –

search and field work, for this book is quite an achievement in amassing so much material in so short a time.

By dealing with the situation in periods, she has made it easier for the reader to have a better appreciation of the Maori.

Its interpretations as well as its original material, are going to influence the thinking of many people—not the least, other students of the Maori.

In recent years there has been minor discussion over whether to use the double vowel, to leave things as they are, or to use the macron. Candidly, I am a little old fashioned, and my hackles rise whenever I see double vowels. The unusual thing about this publication. I found, was the author's use of the macron. At first it was a novelty, but when I finished reading, I found myself two hundred per cent in favour.

The picture captions I found most acceptable. Nothing annoys me more than books with notes saying ‘so and so, a chief of such and such’. I personally feel that the author's almost cryptic technique is refreshingly different and I hope that other aspiring writers in future will follow her line.

I am positive that the author does not claim that this publication is the ‘be all and end all’ on the Maori. Quite a lot of writers in the past appear to me to spend far too much time dealing with the ‘dead Maori’, Miss Metge doesn't do this but has got on with the job of describing with uncanny accuracy the doings of ‘living Maoris’. As I have mentioned earlier, the author is ‘with it’, and presents her material with admirable clarity. This publication goes a long way in sowing the much needed seeds of understanding.

To be frank, I intended giving the book a thorough doing over. However, the more I read the more engrossed I became and was eventually won over. Well, Dr Metge, I must confess you have come a long way—or is it me—from the Kitemoana Street days where I endeavoured to mislead you by purposely giving half truths. You have nothing to thank me for, but I personally am thankful for your positive approach and indeed grateful that our paths have crossed in the past and no doubt will do so again in the future.

The Maoris of New Zealand is indeed an outstanding contribution to New Zealand literary and historical works. I commend it to both Maori and Pakeha to enable them to have a better and clearer understanding, so that the averment made by Governor Hobson

Picture icon

new REED

Picture icon

Ans Westra
James Ritchie

Ans Westra photography, sympathetic yet discerning, has captured the warmth and social unity of the Maori Dr. James Ritchie, author of the sociological study The Making of a Maori, is particularly concerned with the problem of the Maori's adaptation to an urban industrial existence. 11in × 9in—232 pages.

Eight pages colour plates.

More than 100 photographs.

63s 0d ($6.30).


Bruce Biggs

Dr. Bruce Biggs, Assoc. Professor in the Anthropology Department, Auckland University, has compiled from a wide variety of writers and sources, an essential reader for all Maori students. Ideally suited to University and Secondary classes and W.E.A. groups.

15s 0d ($1.50)

Available from All Booksellers

Published By:—

A. H. & A. W. REED

Wellington — Auckland — Sydney

– 60 –

(‘we are one people’) will become in fact a reality and not a dream.


Numbers 11 and 12 in the series
Department of Education, 2s each

No. 11—He Whakarapopototanga

It is an interesting development that encoreāgement should be given to writers to express their feelings in poetry in Maori. Presumably it is intended that pupils or students of the language either express themselves in similar vein or learn something from the authors. The verses by Katarina Mataira and Meri Penfold are a departure from the traditional and modern song-poetry of their Maori people, in that individualism is the key to expresssion.

Put simply, poetry is supposed to teach or shock in a positive way. Neither of these aims is really fulfilled by the verses in this publication. Katarina expresses her distaste for some foods which are delicacies and which have a high cultural value for many of her tribe; she shows no sympathy for the symbolism of the material culture of her people as represented by the carved house in a museum. Some of her lines are neigher poetically justifiable nor structurally acceptable (was this the fault of the editors?) e.g. should not Pukukai begin with ‘He aha te kai Kei roto i te puku’? Is it not the stomach that does the gnashing, moaning, groaning and screaming and not the food itself? (or was this intended?).

Whare Whakairo has similar errors, e.g. ‘Te manawa (wairua) kua rere (riro)’, ‘Kore anō (E kore? E Kore noa?)’. Is the ‘whare kore take’ because it has no functional use though the ‘poutokomanawa’ are there to ‘mihi’ to its ‘Pakeha’ visitors? and the ‘whare’ invites its viewers to ‘whāwhā’ and photograph its decorations?

Meri Penfold's Tirairaka is simple and rhythmic, though it does not quite capture the delightful, restless flitting and twittering of the fantail. Nevertheless, the twirl of poi balls in the double short poi dance and an appropriate chant-like music would depict the mood.

In Hine Heihei was the moral of the story to expose laziness or reveal the rewards of hard work, and that theft (or covetousness) is repaid with death (Parera's, though the other two survived)? It is a pity that delicious tuna is a monster in this story, which is well written. Should not ‘Poaka Kunekune's kata’ be ngawī or horuhoru (page 13)?

Etahi tikanga Māori could well be followed up in story or descriptive form, particularly the application in practice in certain areas of the niceties or prohibited behaviour where the supply of food might or might not be precarious.

It is obvious from this publication and its predecessors that a glossary or a greater use of footnotes to explain dialectical or particular idiomatic expressions is needed. e.g. the synonomous terms for heihei are tīkaokao and pīkaokao, parera is pārera or rakiraki, etc.

The illustrations and cover by Katarina Mataira are impressively done, and the reproductions are distinctive and pleasant.

No. 12—Te Ropu o te Rangatahi o te rau
tau ki muri

In this booklet Secondary School and University teachers will find that Wiremu Ngata (son of Sir Apirana Ngata) has written and translated his material in Maori excellently. Advanced students in language will gain much from reading, re-reading and reflecting upon the information contained in the booklet.

Because the Young Maori Party has a significant place in N.Z. history. I am very disappointed that the subject matter was not treated and co-ordinated with greater care. The Young Maori Party, the Kotahitanga Maori Parliament, and King Tāwhiao's Parliament were products of a significant period when there was a decline in Maori population and acreage in Maori land, and the Pakeha attitude (or sympathy) is symbolised in the presence on One Tree Hill in Auckland of Sir John Logan-Campbell's memorial to the dying race. The existence of these movements among the Maori people indicates to me that, thought there might have been some despair among the people, they were not entirely dispirited, because through these movements they independently clamoured for recognition of their identity, rights and some action concerning their welfare.

The Young Maori Party was more effective (if not spectacular) than other movements because:


its members were dedicated at a very

– 61 –

its most prominent members and leaders had strong tribal identities, were schooled in Church boarding schools (notably Te Aute College) to become bilingual, and they were University trained;


as University graduates they were qualified in the professions with most prestige in Pakeha eyes and with most effectiveness in the Maori sense;


their conferences, papers and subsequent publicity were aimed at informing themselves and officialdom of the conditions prevailing at the time, and also in involving the Maori people in their deliberations;


they realised after some years that effective Parliamentary representation was a most necessary step in implementing their aims;


finally, the Party was fortunate in having Ngata as their foremost leader.

Some questions remain unanswered:


What was the political, economic and social climate of the period which gave rise to the Young Maori Party?


Why didn't Te Aute College continue producing graduates and leaders of the calibre of Kōhere, Ngata, Wirepa and Buck up to the present time? Can educationists learn something from Thornton, the principal of Te Aute College at the time?


Why did Ngata and Sir James Carroll recommend long leases (but not sale) for Maori land and the system of farming by incorporation of owners? Why was it left until 1929 before Government funds were made available to develop Maori lands? (Note: at the time of the Young Maori Party State Advances loaned moneys to the Pakeha farmers).


What was the Young Maori Party attitude to the cry of Kotahitanga for a separate Maori Parliament and ratification of the Treaty of Waitangi, to the Waikato cries for investigation of their land confiscation grievances?


In what areas, geographically speaking, and in what fields, was the influence of the Young Maori Party most effective? What methods did they use to influence people?


Were some of the achievements credited to the Young Maori Party in fact the result of the individual efforts on the part of Pōmare, Ngata and Buck as Parliamentarians in a later period?

My critical remarks should not minimise the value of the present publication, but they should serve a timely warning to other writers and the editor, that topics such as this need careful planning, research and supervision in order to whet the appetite of Sixth Formers (and first year students at Teachers' Colleges or University) to extend their reading in breadth and depth. As University students read some of these booklets, a bibliography of source material would have been very helpful. Could not some of the speeches and letters in Maori be edited as a follow up?

The photographs are interesting, especially the one of the haka group with Ngata in front. I would like to have seen more explanatory notes on the circumstances of this hui.

Kia ora koe, Wiremu, mō ēnei pitopito kōrero ataahua hoki.

– 62 –



HMV MALP 6021–2 Album containing two 12in LP 33 ⅓ rpm with descriptive booklet.

With this album HMV have achieved a ‘first’. Here on record is a full length Maori operetta and no effort seems to have been spared in presenting it in a form that enables the listener to share to the full this exciting production.

Each year New Plymouth stages a ‘Festival of the Pines’ in its famous Bowl of Brooklands. The Bowl is a splendidly equipped open air theatre surrounded by a stand of native bush which provides a spectacular backdrop. In front of the stage is a tiny lake and on the other side of the lake is the outdoor auditorium. The highlight of the 1966 Festival was a colourful and imaginative stage production of the famous Hinemoa and Tutanekai legend.

The production was conceived by John Ford of New Plymouth and immediately he was confronted with a number of formidable difficulties. The cast numbered some three hundred Maoris who were mainly members of Maori cultural groups from all over the province. Because of this dispersion rehearsals had to be piecemeal. Even a grant of £500 from the Queen Elizabeth Arts Council was only sufficient to pay for the cost of bringing the cast together for dress rehearsals. However, prior to this, Nancy Leatham the producer spent many months visiting the clubs and co-ordinating their activities.

Fourteen thousand people were fortunate enough to see the actual stage production. Now HMV have provided the means for many more to listen to a unique presentation of Maori song and sory. In issuing the recording HMV have appreciated the difficulty which many people might have in following the recorded material of what naturally was

– 63 –

largely visual entertainment. They have overcome this splendidly. Not only is the full narration, which explains and introduces the events on stage included on the record, but a special booklet is also included which explains the story in detail. Also in the booklet is an introduction by John Ford which gives something of the background to the production. Finally as an added help to following the story-line the booklet gives the narrator's script interspersed with the names of the various items. Inside the double cover is a black and white photograph of the Bowl of Brooklands which shows its setting to advantage. The front cover is a spectacular night shot of the floodlit bowl with the entire cast in action on stage.

Considering the outdoor setting and the dispersion of the cast over the huge stage, HMV microphones have caught with remarkable fidelity the singing, chants and haka. In so doing they have preserved on record the authentic flavour of a moving and spectacular entertainment.


A Complete Maori Concert with Te Pataka Maori Entertainers

Kiwi LC-40 12in 33 ⅓ LP

Ever since this record was issued some years ago in ten-inch form I have maintained that it provides one of he best selections of Maori entertainment available on the market. For reasons not known to the public, the ten inch size is no longer in favour with record companies and because of a continuing demand Kiwi have re-issued Memories of Maoriland in twelve inch form and added an extra three songs. (The price has also increased from 25/- for the ten inch version to £2 for the twelve inch).

Te Pataka were formed in 1957 by Anania te Amohau and others as a semi-professional group to cater for the need to provide good Maori entertainment for visiting tourists to Wellington. They have continued in this role to the present and have also made several trips to Australia as part of sponsored tourist promotion drives. The group are somewhat unusual in that they seldom perform in the presence of their fellow New Zealanders and never appear at competitions and other occasions when Maoridom foregathers. For this reason the record provides a rare opportunity to hear and to assess the worth of this small but talented group.

As mentioned above the disc is good value because it provides a wide selection of items ranging through traditional welcome, chant, action song, ancient and modern poi, haka taparahi and choral and solo items. These are introduced by concise but adequate cover notes. As is often the case with a small group in which everyone pulls their weight, the result is more impressive than that produced by a large party with passengers. Wisely no attempt has been made to capture an actual performance and the studio presentation has a clarity and fidelity which shows the group to best advantage. In addition to group items there are some fine solos and a charming bracket of songs of love and greeting by a smaller party.


Viking VP204 12in 33 ⅓ LP

Viking, who believe in getting plenty of mileage out of groups which record for them, have brought out yet another collection of tracks from Maori groups who have featured on full-length recordings issued earlier by the company. It is a pleasant and varied selection except for an item which purports to be a Maori chant. Entitled Ba Nana it is sung by Isabel and Virginia Whatarau. It is a tasteless offering.

The items range from action song to haka, traditional chant, poi, stick game and love song. A medley type disc such as this is always good value for the casual buyer of Maori material since it gives a selection of different groups and thus differing styles of performance, and of course varying types of item. However, such buyers usually want to know a little bit more about the origin, meaning and significance of the time than just a bald ‘haka’, ‘chant’ and the like. Viking have missed the bus in this respect because most tourists in particular have a healthy curiosity about the indigenous people and music of countries they visit. This record could thus have been so much more by adding so little. A few cover notes would have made all the difference.

– 64 –

Crossword Puzzle 56


1. Watch, look at (10)
2. The day after to-morrow (7)
3. Carry off by force (6)
4. Carved uprights in front of a house (3)
5. Obtain; gone (4)
6. Freckle, mole; shine, glitter (3)
7. Sun, day (2)
8. River mouth (8)
9. Lead (5)
10. Bring along; recite (4)
11. It were better (3)
15. Dust (5)
16. He, she (2)
19. Put out the lips, pout (2)
20. Face in a certain direction, go (3)
22. Shout; soft mud (2)
23. December (6)
25. South Island (10)
27. Row, rank (7)
29. Shoe (2)
32. Calm, at rest (3)
33. Faded, light coloured (4)
34. Ancestor (6)
35. Hard, firm; stanch blood (3)
36. Used to (4)
37. Winter (7)
41. Officer (5)
42. End, extremity; navel (4)
43. Front wall of a house (4)
44. Over the other side (3)
47. Tip, point, summit (3)
49. White, clean (2)


1. Cold (8)
8. Appeased; satisfied (5)
12. Stage, platform (7)
13. Forehead (3)
14. Gather fruit off a tree; spread out, lay out (6)
15. Swing, wave about; skip with a rope (3)
17. Vine: long thin roots (3)
18. What? (3)
19. Only child (7)
21. Flesh (4)
23. Remain, left over (3)
24. Cover, spread out (3)
26. Baptize (6)
28. Smoke; firm, intense; bark (2)
29. Breath (2)
30. Sir (2)
31. I, me (4)
33. Gather, assemble (3)
34. Tuesday (5)
36. Mouth (4)
38. Eye (6)
39. Roam; go round about, circle around (4)
40. Drive away, expel, sack (4)
41. Accident, misfortune (5)
42. Gun (2)
43. Slave; Body of workmen (3)
44. Put out, quench (5)
45. Bee (2)
46. Turi's Canoe (5)
48. Dry land (3)
49. Many (4)
50. Digging stick (2)
51. World (2)
52. Brave, bold, capable (4)
53. Coming or going straight towards, hitting exactly; just, proper (5)

Picture icon

Solution to No. 55

– 65 –
– 66 –