Te Ao Hou
THE MAORI MAGAZINE
The Department of Maori and Islands Affairs June-August 1968
‘To Live in the City’, a film showing the background and new experiences of young Maoris selected for a pre-employment courses, has been produced by the National Film Unit and shown on television channels.
All parents and secondary school pupils should see the film, which is available from the National Film Library.
N.Z [ unclear: ]
published quarterly by the Department of Maori and Islands Affairs, and sponsored by the Maori Purposes Fund Board.
printed at Sigma Print Limited.
n. z. subscriptions: One year 75e (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 $1.00, three years $2.50. U.S.A., Canada and Hawaii: one year $1.20, three years $3.75. Other countries: the local equivalent of sterling rates.
back issues (N.Z. rates): Issue Nos. 19–22, 29, 31–37 and 39–62 are available at 25c each. A very few copies of issue Nos. 13, 18, 23, 25, 27, 28, 30 and 38 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.
Te Ao Hou
THE MAORI MAGAZINE
|The Fairies of Mochau, Margaret Orbell||4|
|Te Matikara Motu, Harry Dansey||6|
|Toki, Patricia Grace||16|
|The Home-coming, J. Edward Brown||18|
|Manu Korotangi, Rangi T. Harrison||9|
|Hinchopu, Joan Taylor||18|
|Kaumatua, Marie Anderson||18|
|Visit of M.W.W.L. to Fiji||10|
|Te Mate nei, te Kai Waipiro, Ani Bosch||13|
|I Te Mate Ka Tu Ka Ora||21|
|Aborigines and Maoris, Colin Tatz||22|
|Miss Canterbury 1968, William A. Gamble||27|
|Winners of Travel Awards||29|
|Ahuwhenua Trophy Presented||30|
|Third Christchurch Hostel Opened||32|
|Unveiling at Rotoiti||34|
|First Life Member, Louis J. Edwards||35|
|Maori Art on Tour||40|
|The Mauriora Entertainers||41|
|Two Aboriginal Women Visit Our Play Centres, Betty Brown||42|
|Looking at the Future, T. K. Royal||44|
|Land Development in Fiji, Eric Gibson||47|
|South Pacific Countries, Ross Walker||50|
|Haere Ki o Koutou Tipuna||2|
|People and Places||36|
|Younger Readers' Section||56|
THE MINISTER OF MAORI AFFAIRS: The Hon. L. R. Hanau.
EDITOR: Joy Stevenson.
ASSOCIATE EDITOR (Maori text): E. B. Ramapia.
FRONT COVER: The Mauriora Entertainers. See the article on page 41.
BACK COVER: ‘Whiua Te Aroha’ the historic hei-tiki returned to Kuini Te Atairangikaahu by the American Ambassador, Mr J. F. Henning, during the coronation celebrations in May, An account of this occasion will be in our next issue.
photograph by John J. Gray
HAERE KI O
Mr William John Phillipps, for over 40 years a student of Maori history, art, buildings and artifacts, died on 19 November, 1967, aged 74.
He had been a member of the staff of the Dominion Museum from 1917 until his retirement in 1958 and during those 41 years published over 180 papers, books and articles. More than 100 of these were on things Maori. One tribute to him describes his ‘gentle, kindly presence’, and it is for his qualities of kindness, humility and simplicity that he will be remembered.
Two important books are Dominion Museum Monographs Nos. 8 and 9, Maori Houses and Food Stores and Carved Maori Houses of Western and Northern Areas of New Zealand, published in 1952 and 1955. Another is his most recent book, Maori Life and Custom, published in 1966, which has been described as ‘an invaluable reference book, which should be in every primary school.’
To gather material for his publications and to make notes on carved houses throughout New Zealand, Mr Phillipps travelled widely and spoke with many Maori elders. He never failed to show his respect for the old people, and patiently and quietly gathered the necessary information. Always he acknowledged the help and assistance given him by others.
His attitude can best be summed up from the introduction of two of his booklets.
From Maori Designs:—‘I write from the basis of the student rather than from that of the advanced critic, remembering always that in conservative simplicity these patterns were born, and in that same simplicity must their beauty be interpreted’.
From Maori Carving:—‘My experience has been that to learn to understand and appreciate carvings and to incorporate them steadfastly in the mentality, many years of study are required. Eventually, I decided that before I could write on the subject, it would be necessary to carve at least some of the designs for myself. This took some years; but it was possible to appreciate something of a carver's viewpoint and the amount of patience required to do really good work.’
Mr Philipps usually called on others when preparing his work for publication. One who worked with him has said, ‘He seemed to have an uncanny knack of finding out small but vital pieces of information about the past.’
He has certainly left his mark on New Zealand's records of Maori art, and future students will be grateful for his notes, and for the information given him by many whom he has now gone to join.
Ki nga Tohu o te Motu:
Nga mihi o te wa ki a koutou katoa. Tena koutou i nga mate maha o te Motu. Kua riro ratou ki te Po. Na koutou i tuku, i tangi, na tatou katoa. Kaati.
He tangi atu tenei ki a koutou kia manawanui mai ki tenei take e whaia nei e ahau hei painga mo te Iwi mo te Motu hoki.
My friends, I am an American anthropologist in your country for the next two years in order to do some research on some aspects of higher education among Maoris. I am especially interested in the role of the Maori graduate in the Maori, as well as the total New Zealand community. This means that I must see the older graduates as well as the young.
As a preliminary step, I have sent out about 150 information sheets; I hope sincerely that the Maori graduates will respond, in as much as I must have some general data before I can arrange personal interviews all over New Zealand. The success of such a project depends, of course, entirely on the co-operation of the Maori graduates. I do so want this project to be a real contribution to Maori research! May I please have your support? I am looking forward to seeing you.
‘Te Ao Hou’,
Could you please get me a few pen-friends among the Maoris. I am interested about the Maoris of New Zealand and shall be very happy indeed if you could procure a few pen-friends among them—men or women.
I am a 50-year-old housewife, who is interested in reading, gardening, poultry-keeping, sewing, films, radio, travelling, excursions, etc.
Mrs J. R. Denny,
Nō tētahi reta ki a Kuini Wikitoria: “Ko tā te Atua i hōmai ai hei tino rongoā, hei tino taonga hoki mō te whakaoranga o te ao katoa, ko te whakakotahitanga i āna tāngata katoa i tā tatou nei Take, kotahi anō Whakapono …”
“Ko tērā i whakakitea nei i roto i tēnei whakakitenga nui kāore anō kia kitea e te ao, a, e kore hoki e kitea i ngā wā e heke iho nei.” Baha'u'llah.
From a letter to Queen Victoria: “That which the Lord hath ordained as the sovereign remedy and mightiest instrument for the healing of all the world is the union of all its people in our universal Cause, one common Faith …”
“That which hath been made manifest in this pre-eminent, this most exalted Revelation, stands unparalleled in the annals of the past, nor will future ages witness its like.” Baha'u'llah.
BAHA'I FAITHBOX 1906 AUCKLAND
The Fairies of Moehau
Fairies, or patupaiarehe, were said to be much like human beings, but with white skins and red hair. They lived on the mountain tops. Most of the time they could not be seen, though sometimes on a misty day a tohunga might catch a glimpse of them.
One of the places most frequented by the fairies was Moehau, the high mountain at Cape Colville on the Coromandel Peninsula. Edward Tregear, in his book The Maori Race (p. 523), tells us that Moehau was so sacred to the fairies that few people dared approach it, but that ‘those who did so had wonderful stories to relate of seeing fairy-forts made of interlaced supplejack, and of finding plantations of gourds. If anyone attempted to lift one of these gourds it was found to be too heavy to move’.
John White says that the fairies' pa were in dense forest on the heights of the mountain, and that no man could make a way through the woven supplejack that surrounded them (Journal of the Polynesian Society, vol. 33, p. 211).
The mountain was tapu, or sacred, both because of the fairies and because it was Tamatekapua's burial place. The famous ancestor Tamatekapua was captain of the Arawa canoe during the migration to this country. For an account of his burial on the summit of Moehau, see Edward Shortland's book Maori Religion and Mythology, p. 52. Perhaps it was thought that the presence of Tamatekapua lessened the power of the fairies.
The last sentence of the account published here is a graceful, if somewhat ambiguous, compliment to Sir George Grey. It implies that of all men, only Governor Grey has sufficient mana to ascend the sacred mountain—though this would be an act that would destroy much of its sacredness.
The manuscript is in the Auckland Public Library manuscript collection (GNZMMSS 7). It was collected by Sir George Grey, and is undated. It may have been among the traditions that Grey collected in 1849, during a journey through the Thames district. It is headed, in a different hand, ‘The origin of mana of Thames tribe’. This must refer to the fact that Moehau was the sacred mountain of the people of the district.
The Fairies of Moehau
E hoa, he pono anō tēnei hanga te patuparehe, mai anō i mua, i a Tamatekapua e ora ana. Koia te kaupapa o taua hanga, a, nō tana matenga, kāhore he nohoanga mō rātou. I tanumia hoki a ia ki Moehau, a, kei reira te tino pukenga o taua iwi i a tāua e noho nei. Tēnā anō te ana ōna e tanu nei kei te tihi o Moehau; te tohu, he korau nui whakaharahara.
Tēnā, i noho kaupapa-kore taua iwi, ā, taea noatia ngā rā o tēnei iwi o Ngāti Rongou, arā, o Ngāti Rongoi, ka waiho te rangatira o taua hapū, a Matatahi, hei kaupapa.
A, ka haere ētahi o ngā tāngata o taua hapū ki te patu poaka i Moehau; ko te
The fairies do exist, my friend, and have done so since the early days, when Tamatekapua was alive. The reason for their hostility was that from the time of his death there was no dwelling-place for them. Tamatekapua was buried on Moehau, which right down to the present day has been the place most treasured by the fairies. His burial cave is there on the peak of Moehau; an enormous tree-fern marks the spot.
Nevertheless, they had no quarrel with us until the time of this people Ngati Rongou, also known as Ngai Rongoi. Then Matatahi, the chief of this sub-tribe, gained their enmity.
Some men from the sub-tribe went pig-
takiwā tēnei o mua i a Ngāti Paoa, i a Ngāti Maru kiano i nui noa. Na, ka haere taua hunga, a, ka tae ki taua rākau nei, he rewarewa, e mau ana koa te puku i taua rākau. Na, he tahā nei; a, ka pōutokia e taua hunga, ka motu, [ka] taunaha [taua] ipu mā rātou.
A, ka haere atu, ka tae ki taua wāhi i te ara e ārai mai ana te ara i te kareao; ko te kareao e tupu ana anō, otiia he mea whakapiko e rātou, e te patuparehe—arā, e te patupaearehe—hei tāepa, arā, hei nohoanaga mō rātou; ko roto o taua tāepa he raurēkau, he otaota, he aha, he aha, hei nohoanga.
Ka haere tau[a] tokorima, a, ka mau tā rātou poaka, he poaka ngako; a, ka pōutokia. Ka motu mā tēnei, mā tēnei, a, ka whakawahaa mai, ā, ka tae mai ki te tahā i taunaha rā, ka pīkaua e tētahi o rātou; a, kīhai i mataara mai. Ka noho, ka okioki i te taimaha, a, ka nuku mai, ka okioki anō. Ka karanga atu ngā hoa, ‘E hoa, kia horo mai!’
Ka mea ake tērā, ‘E pā mā, he taimaha nō taku pīkaunga.’
[I] te mōhio te tangata rā e pēhia ana a ia e te parehe, otiia kīhai rātou i kite i aua hanga rā, nō te mea he wairua; e riri ana hoki rātou mō tā rātou tahā i tapahia mai rā. Kātahi ka mahue taua tahā rā, a, tae rawa atu taua tokorima ki te kāinga.
Kua pōuri; whakatarea ana tā rātou poaka, he poaka mōmona taua poaka. Tēnā, e ao ake te rā, ka taona taua poaka e rātou; a, nō ka hukea te hāngi, he hāwareware kau anō; kāhore he kiko, kāhore he aha. Kātahi ka mōhiotia e rātou, nā te parehe i kino ai mō tā rātou tahā i pōutokia rā.
A, ka pō, ka tae mai aua parehe ki te kāinga o taua iwi rā, o Ngāti Rongoi, a, tōia ana te tangata ki waho nāna i waha mai taua ipu. Ka nui hoki te kaha o taua iwi parehe; ka pupuri taua tangata ki te rākau, mahua katoa taua rākau—ka mau anō he rākau, ka mahua anō. Kawea ana e rātou ki te wai, rumakina ana, ka mate. Ka hokia anō e rātou ki te kāinga, patua ana te tokowhā, ka mate.
E hoa, kei kī koe e noa ana i Moehau, kāore, e tapu tonu ana te tihi. Kāhore anō i taea e te tangata o muri mai o Tamatekapua, engari pea mā Kāwana Kerei e taea ai.
hunting at Moehau; this district used to belong to Ngati Paoa before Ngati Maru became so numerous. They set off, and they came to a tree, a rewarewa, to which there was attached a rounded object. It was a calabash. The men cut it down and claimed it as their own.
They went further on, and came to a place where the path was blocked by supplejack; the supplejack was still growing, but it had been bent round by the fairies so as to form an enclosure within which they lived. Inside the fence there were rangiora and all kinds of other plants, where they had their home.
The five men continued on their way and caught their pig, a fat one. They cut it up and divided the pieces amongst them, carrying them on their backs. When they came to the calabash they had claimed, one of them took it on his back.
Soon he was not able to stay awake. He sat down and rested because of the weight, then went on, then rested again. His companions called, ‘Hurry up, friend!’
He said, ‘Friends, it is because my load is so heavy!’
He knew it was the fairies that were weighing him down, but the men could not see the fairies, for they were spirits; they were furious because their calabash had been cut down. So the five men abandoned the calabash, and finally reached their village.
By now it was dark. They hung up their pig—it was a fat one. Next morning they cooked it, and when the oven was opened there was nothing but skin and bone—there was no flesh at all. They knew then that the fairies were persecuting them because of the calabash they had cut down.
When night fell, the fairies came to the village of Ngati Rongoi and dragged out the man who had carried the calabash. The fairies were very strong indeed; the man held on to a tree, but it was pulled right out of the ground. He took hold of another tree, but it was also pulled from the ground. They carried him to the water, and they drowned him. Then they went back to the village and attacked and killed the other four men.
My friend, do not imagine that Moehau is now free from tapu—no, the peak is still tapu. No man since Tamatekapua has ever attained the peak, though it may be that Governor Grey will do so.
Te Matikara Motu
The Lost Finger
This is the first of a series of stories told at various times to Harry Dansey. In each case the teller of the tale was asked specifically whether or not he had any objection to the ultimate publication of his recollections and any reservations made have been scrupulously observed.
Mr Riwai Te Hiwinui Tawhiri, who tells this story of how he lost a finger in his boyhood, is now 89 years old. He lives at Auckland. He was brought up in the Ruatoria district, being of Ngati Porou ancestry. He lived at Whareponga. Tuparoa and other places in the area before going to Te Aute, which he joined in the same year as Sir Peter Buck, who was his best friend at school. Most of his life he has been a school teacher and is well known for his work in that capacity on the East Coast and in the Bay of Plenty. He was also prominent in sport, especially tennis, in other years.
I tētahi rā, ka pā mai te mina ki ngā kai o te ngahere—kererū, kākā, kōkō, poaka. Ka pā mai tēnei mina i te haerenga kētanga o taku tipuna, o Hāmuera, (ko Hāmuera taku tipuna whāngai) ki te tiki kai i te toa i Mataahu, e tata ana ki Whareponga. Ngā kai o reira he pēke huka, he pēke parāoa me ērā atu kai a te Pākehā.
One day there came a longing for the foods of the bush, pigeon, kaka, tui, pork. This desire arose when my grandfather Hamuera (Hamuera was really a stepgrandfather) had gone to fetch provisions from the store at Mataahu, near Whareponga. The foods were a bag of sugar, a bag of flour and other Pakeha food.
I mua nei kua kī iho a ia, ‘Ki te haere koe ki te ngahere, kei noho koe ka mau i te pū.’
Takahia ana e ahau tāna kupu, te kupu rā, ‘Kaua’. Ka haere ahau ki te wāhi i mōhio ai ahau kei reira te pū, i hunaia ki raro i te moenga.
Heoi anō! Kua tutuki taku hiahia. Taku kurī ko Momi ka tukua e ahau i tōna tīni, a, ka pekepeke i tōna kitenga i te pū. I mōhio ia ka haere māua ki te ngahere.
E toru māero pea te tawhiti ki te tapa o te ngahere o Pihanui. Tapoko atu ana māua ki roto ki te huru, ka rere taku kurī. Kīhei i roa, ka rongo au ki te auē punua poaka. Kātahi au ka kite atu ko taku kurī e okeoke ana i tētahi punua poaka. Ka whakatūngia e ahau taku pū ki te tapa o te huru, ka rere atu au ki te punua poaka, ka hereherea ngā waewae, hei mau ki te kāinga.
Ka rere taku kurī ki te ngau i te tiaka e haere tika mai ana ki ahau. Kīhei i taea e Momi te pupuri te poaka uwha rā. Haere tika tonu mai ki taku poho, rutua ana ahau ki raro me te rapa i te wāhi tata ki taku korokoro.
Tēnā, kīhei i taea e Momi te pupuri te whaereere pukuriri pāmamae, tā te mea kua kore kē he taringa, i te ngaunga a ngā kuī a ētahi atu. I mōhio te kurī rā me ngau e ia ki te ū o te poaka; i te kaha o tōna ngaunga, ka makere te poaka ki raro i a au. Te kaha o tana kukume, taka tonu atu te poaka ki raro i tōna rangatira! Kātahi te poaka nei ka whakarere i ahau,
Earlier he had said: ‘If you should go to the bush, don't take the gun.’
I disregarded his instruction, the word: ‘Don't.’ I went to the place where I knew the gun was, hidden under the bed.
Ah well! I did what I wanted to do. My dog Momi I let go from his chain, jumping up as he saw the gun. He knew we were going to the bush.
It is about three miles to the edge of Pihanui bush. As we entered the undergrowth my dog made off. Not long after, I heard the squealing of a little pig. Then I saw that my dog was struggling with a piglet. I stood my gun against the edge of the undergrowth, leapt at the little pig and bound its legs in order to take it home.
My dog flew at the mother which was coming straight towards me. Momi wasn't able to hold that sow. She went straight for my chest, threw me down and clung to a place close to my throat.
Momi couldn't hold that angry, distressed mother because she had no ears. They had been bitten off by other people's dogs. The dog knew he had to bite the pig's teats. In the strength of his biting the pig was forced from me. In the strength of his pulling he drew the pig from his master. Then this pig fled from me, followed by my dog, biting and barking as he went.
This pig was a survivor of other hunts and had sought revenge for her ills at the
ka whai i taku kurī, ka ngaua haeretia me te auē haere o te kurī.
Ko te poaka nei he mōrehu nā ngā whakangaunga a ētahi atu, e rapu utu ana mō ōna matenga i ētahi atu tāngata, i ētahi atu kurī.
Ka ora au i konei, ka mau anō te ringa i te pū, ka haere tika ki ngā roto o Wahieroa. E toru ēnei roto, kei te tapa o te ngahere e karangatia nei ko Pihanui. Koia nei te tino take o taku haere—he pupuhi pārera, kererū, kōkō. Tino mōmona atu te manu i ērā rā. Nui atu te hua a ngā pua manu—te kahikatea i te taha o ngā roto, te miro kei runga i ngā hiwi, me te poroporo hoki. Te nui o te mōmona o te kōkō, ka pūhia atu, ka taka, pakaru tonu atu i te mōmona!
Hāunga ngā manu kei runga rākau, ko ngā mea kei runga i te wai. Te pārera, tinitini ana! Kātahi ka konihi ahau kia tata, ko te rerenga o ngā manu! Ka pūhia atu e ahau ngā mea e rere ana i runga tonu ake i taku māhuna. Ka taka kotahi ki taku aroaro tonu.
Ēngari kāhore i tino mate. Na, kātahi au ka whai haere i te manu, ka tuki ki te raparapa o taku pū, ko taku ringa katau i runga i te māngai o te pū, ko te kōroa me te māpere i roto i ngā māngai o te pū. He tūpara hou tonu te pū nei.
Kātahi ka rāoa te keu. Ka oho te pū, ka pakū, me te māpere o te ringa katau, riro atu! Ka mōhio au he mate tēnei.
hands of other men and other dogs.
Finding myself unhurt from all this, I took gun in hand and made straight for the lakes of Wahieroa. There are three of these lakes at the edge of the bush which is called Pihanui. This was the real object of my excursion, to shoot duck, pigeon, tui. The birds in those days were very fat indeed. The trees favoured by the birds had many fruits, the kahikatea beside the lakes, the miro on the hills and then there was the poroporo too. So fat was the tui that, falling after being shot, it broke open.
Besides the birds of the trees, there were those of the water. Duck, how they abounded. Then, as I crept close, behold the flight of the birds! I shot at those that flew right over my head. One fell right in front of me.
But it was not quite dead. Then I pursued the bird, striking at it with the butt of my gun, my right hand over the muzzle of the gun, the first and second fingers inside the barrels. The gun was a new double-barrelled one.
Then the trigger caught against something. The gun discharged and blew the second finger of my right hand clean off: I knew I had been hurt.
I tore the sleeve of my shirt as a bandage for my lacerated finger. Now the world
Ka haea te ringa o te hāte hei takai i te ringa kua motu. I tēnei wā ka huri te whenua i ahau. Taku whakaaro tuatahi he tuku i taku ringa i roto i te wai kia mutu ai te heke o te toto. Ka ngaro aku whakaaro.
Oho rawa ake, ko taku kurī e noho tonu ana i taku taha, āno e tiaki ana i tōna rangatira.
Ka kohia e ahau te pārera ki roto i te kete, me te pū mau ana i te ringa maui, ka haere tika ki te kāinga. Ko te rā kua tata kē ki te tō. Haere me te wehi, te mamae, ngā kahu toto katoa. Kua tae mai te mataku i taku tipuna i whai kupu mai rā, ‘Kei noho ka mau i te pū i muri nei!’
Ana, heoi anō, te taenga atu, e auē ana taku tipuna wahine, a Tuihana. Ko Hāmuera i te kaha o te riri, ka hurihia taku whero ki runga i tōna turi, karia ki tana tātua kiri-kau.
Ka mutu tna riri, mauria ana tana toki ki te tapahi mai i te kiri rātā. Ka waruhia ki roto i te peihana wai mahana. Taku ringaringa i tū rā i te pū, ka purua ki roto i te wai, ka horoia ngā toto, ka whakapiringia ngā wāhi pakaru o te māpere. Ka mutu tēra, ka takaia te ringa ki ngā kiri o te rātā, kei mua, kei muri o te ringa, pēnā tonu nā te tino tākuta i takai.
Me kī rā, i roto i te rua wiki kua ora te ringaringa hīanga.
Te aituā nei i hāngai tonu ki taku rā whānau, te rua tekau mā rima o Maehe, 1887. E waru aku tau i taua wā.
whirled round me. My first thought was to put my hand in the water to staunch the flow of blood. Then I lost consciousness.
I came to at last, my dog crouched by my side, guarding his master.
I picked up the duck and put it in my kit, took the gun in my left hand and went straight home. The sun had nearly set. I went in fear and pain, my clothes all bloodstained. Fear of my grandfather came upon me, fear of him who had said: ‘Leave the gun behind.’
Well, on my arrival, my grandmother, Tuihana, cried out. Hamuera, in the strength of his anger, turned me over on his knee, lashing with his cow-hide belt.
When his anger had subsided, he took his axe to cut some rata bark. This he scraped into a basin of warm water. Placing my gun-wounded hand in the water, he washed away the blood from the broken part of my second finger. That being finished, he bound the finger to pieces of rata bark, in front and behind the finger, every bit as well as a proper doctor would have bound it up.
And upon my word, within two weeks that erring finger was healed.
This misfortune occurred on my birthday, the 25th of March, 1887. I was eight years old at the time.
Tū mokemoke ana ahau
Te puke i Aotea, ā,
Kei whea koe?
Ka noho tangitangi,
Ka tū kanankana,
Te puna i utuhia,
Riro, riro kau ana.
Kanapu mai ana i te rangi ā,
Manu Korotangi, pari rau rewa.
Tiu ana ki te paepae o Tūrongo, ī.
Tau, ka tau.
Eke, eke, eke hohoa, eke panuku e,
Hui e, Taiki e.
nā Rangi T. Harrison
Ka haere he Rōpū Wāhine Māori
ki te Moutere o Whīti
Tekau mā waru ngā mema o te Rōpū Wāhine Māori o Arahina i haere ki te pōwhiri a te Pā o Narewa, kia haere atu ki te whakahoa i ērā o ngā whanaunga.
E rima māero te tawhiti atu a tēnei Pā i te tāone o Nadi. I noho te rōpū o Arahina i roto i ngā ‘bure’, ngā whare o tērā iwi. Kāore he moenga—he whāriki, he pera, ko tō takotoranga tēnā. Kāti, i te tauhou o te rōpū nei ki tēnei tū moenga, kekē ana ngā iwi me ngā papa i te mārō. Ahakoa rā, te take o te haere he mātaki i te noho a tērā iwi.
Nō te whā o te ata ka tae mātau, he Rātapu. E tū mai ana te tangata whenua; tā rātau pōwhiri he hīmene i roto anō i tō rātau nei reo. No tē pō ngā manaaki i roto i te whare karakia, nā Roko Tui Ra. I roto i aku whakautu ka mihi au ki a rātau, me te kī atu nō ngā waka e whitu mātau o Aotearoa; nō ngā hāhi katoa mātau—he Māori, he Pākehā mātau. Tika rawa atu ngā manaaki tuatahi i a mātau i roto i te whare o te Atua, i tēnei rā e haruru nei te ao, e rere nei te toto koia mātau te rōpū o Arahina e haere nei i runga i te aroha i te rangimārie.
I tētahi rangi ake, ka hui mai ngā īnia, ngā Pākehā, ngā Whīti hoki ki te manaaki i a mātau, a, ki te unu hoki i te kai e kiia ‘kava’; ka tae ia marae, ka tapaea mai anō te ‘kava’, anuanu ana te puku tauhou ki tēnei unu; te kīnaki ngā kai o Whīti, a, ngā kanikani me ngā ‘meke’.
Tētahi rangi ake, ka mauria mātau ki te one o Natadola ki te kaukau. Nō te ahiahi ka haere mātau ki te kāinga o Ratu Cakobau me tōna hoa wahine.
Nō tētahi rangi, ka huihui mai ngā mema o ngā rōpū wāhine katoa o Whīti te perehitini ko te hoa wahine e Ratu Cakobau. Ka whakakitekite rātau i ā rātau tunu kai (umu), te raranga whāriki, pōtae hoki, te mahi tapa, ngā mahi tuitui hoki, me ā rātau nei kanikani. Ka whakakitekite hoki a Arahina i ngā mahi kete, piupiu, poi, korowai, tukutuku me te kōrero i ngā moana pounamu, a, whakaoti atu ki te poi, ki te haka.
E whā ngā rā ki Narewa Pā, ka haere mātau ki Suva hai manuwhiri mā ngā mema o te Rōpū o te P.P.S.E.A.W.A. o Suva; ō mātau kāinga noho he Whīti, Hainamana, Pākehā, Inia, Rotuma me te mīharo anō ki ngā manaaki. Te manaaki tuatahi i te tāone o Suva nā te Mea āwhina nā Levi Volavola, he Whīti. I tapaea hoki ā mātau taonga—he kete kiekie, he reta hoki nā te Mea o ākarana. I ngā marae katoa i tae mātau he taonga i tukua e mātau—he piupiu, he tāniko, he kete, he moni. Ka haere mātau ki te kāinga o Lady Ragg o Tamavua, he wahine ragatira nō Suva, a, ki Nasinu Training School, ki Broadcasting House, ki te South Pacific Commission Training Centre, ki ngā kura, ki ngā hōhipera me te haere anō hoki ki te mātakitaki i ngā coral reefs o Whīti.
Ka mauria mātau mā runga poti ki te moutere o Bau—ko te moutere tēnei o Kīngi Cakobau, a, kei reira ō rātau nei toma. Ka tata aut mātau, ka waiatatia e mātau te poi waka, a, tae noa ki te ūnga atu, i reira a Adi Litia te pakeke o Bau, nānā ngā manaaki me ngā ngahau me te hākari hoki. Ka mauria haeretia mātau ki ngā whare, ki ngā pā tawhito me ngā kōrero hoki o taua pā. Te mea mīharo i kite au ko te pōhatu patu tangata o neherā, i tēnei rā he pōhatu iriiri tangata, kai roto i te whare karakia e tū ana.
Ka peka te Rōpū nei ki te Kāreti o Adi Cakobau—ngā manaaki a te kura me ā rātau waiata hoki, te ‘Water Lily Song’.
Nō te ahiahi o te Rātapu, ka haere mātau ki te karakia o ngā Hāhi katoa. Nāku te upoko tuatahi i kōrero i te reo Māori: nā te Pākehā te upoko tuarua. E rua ngā hīmene Māori i waiataitia e mātau.
To pō nui ko te ‘International Night’, ngā kanikani a te Hāmoa, Tonga, Inia, Whīti, Hawaii, Rotuma, Pākehā. I muri
iho, i te Rōpū o Arahina ngā poi, ngā haka, ngā waiata.
Te pō whakamutunga nā ngā Rōpū Wāhine o Whīti ngā manaaki ngā kai o īnia, ngā kanikani hoki. I reira ka manaaki a Arahina i te reo Māori, Pākehā hoki. Te aroha a te Rōpū o P.P.S.E.A.W.A. o Whīti he niho wēra e kīia nei he ‘tabua’. He taonga nui tēnei.
Ko te mea nui o tēnei haere e kore e taea te tā, ēngari ko te aroha, te whakaaro kotahi, te manaaki, ehara i te mea i te moutere anake o Whīti, ēngari i roto tonu i te Rōpū o tēnei peka o te Rōpū Wāhine Māori. Nā rātau i toha ki ērā whanaunga te kākano o te aroha kia tipu ai i waenganui i ō tātau whanaunga o ngā moutere o te Moana-nui-a-Kiwa. Nō roto i tēnei haere ka ū mai ngā wāhine o Whīti me ngā wāhine o īnia hei manuhiri mā te Rōpū wāhine nei. Nō reira, Arahina, nā koutou tā tātau haere i whakarangatira; nā koutou tātau ngā Māori o Aotearoa i hāpai ki runga; nā koutou i wāhi te huarahi mō ngā haere pēnei kai mua e tū mai ana. Kia nui ngā mihi ki a koutou.
Visit of New Zealand Maori
Women's Welfare League to Fiji
An idea for promoting goodwill and friendship among women of the Pacific area which had its beginning at the Conference of the Pan Pacific and South East Asia Women's Association in Tonga, culminated in a visit to Fiji by the Arahina Branch of the Maori Women's Welfare League. Led by Mrs Maraea Te Kawa, whose idea it was, and fostered by Mrs Thelma Robinson, eighteen members of the M.W.W.L. arrived in Fiji where they spent four days and four nights in the village of Narewa as guests of the people. They joined in the life of the village sleeping in bures on mats on the floor and eating Fijian food.
After resting all day the party was officially welcomed at a service in the Wesleyan Church at Nadi by the Roko Tui Ra and the Revd Maika Toro. In her reply the leader of the party said, ‘We are very grateful for this first official welcome to your country. In our group from Aotearoa, we do not all belong to one church, and we do not all belong to one race, but we come to be united with you as one family in the House of our Father, and there could not be a more suitable and fitting place for us to be. The pages of the world's history are written in blood and as we turn each page we read of fighting and bloodshed, so we come in love and goodwill and fellowship because we believe that in this way we can help to bring peace to this troubled world.’
The visiting group was widely representative, composed of both Maori and Pakeha women, their age groups ranging from single girls to grandmothers. From an occupational angle, there were housewives, office and factory workers, Welfare Officers, a florist,
a business woman and telephonists. They came from all parts of New Zealand and represented the seven canoes of the Great Migration.
On the following afternoon guests arrived for the ceremonial welcome in Narewa village, among them being representatives of the European and Indian residents in the area. This began with the traditional Kava ceremony, which has to be experienced by all visitors to Fiji, followed by the presentation of food and speeches of welcome. Arahina replied with action songs and the performance of long and short poi, festivities concluding with dancing in bare feet under the palm trees and stars, to the music of Fijian instruments.
A picnic and swimming at Natadola Beach was held during the day and in the evening the group went to pay their respects to Ratu George Cakobau where gifts were exchanged. Members of neighbouring branches of the Fijian Women's organizations led by Mrs Cakobau, their president, gave demonstrations of cooking, arts and crafts—including basket, hat and mat weaving, tapa making, needlework, and painting with bark oil. Arahina replied by demonstrating the arts of making pois, kit, korowai and piupiu, tukutuku and taniko work and relating the history of New Zealand greenstone.
They then travelled by bus to Suva where for five days they lived with families comprising five of the racial groups of Fiji—Fijian, Chinese, Rotuman, Indian and European. The visitors were fascinated by all aspects of life in Fiji. As a gesture of friendship and in recognition of Arahina's and the M.W.W. League's affiliation to the Auckland Branch of the P.P.S.E.A.W.A., Suva's members of the Fijian Branch had arranged a varied itinerary for the visitors. This included a Mayoral Reception at the Town Hall by the Deputy Mayor, Levi Volavola, where a Maori kit and a message from the Mayor of Auckland were presented. In the afternoon, the party enjoyed the hospitality of Lady Ragg who was also presented with a Maori kit.
They next visited Nasinu Training College, hospitals, Broadcasting House, the South Pacific Commission Community Training Centre and schools, and enjoyed a cruise to see the underwater coral gardens.
A day never to be forgotten was the trip to historic Bau Island, burial place of King Cakobau. At the landing the Maori group, dressed in their national costume, sang, a canoe poi song as the boat glided towards Bau. They were met and entertained by Adi Litia and displays of handcrafts and dances were exchanged. A visit was made to the church where a stone which in the olden days was used to bash prisoners' heads against, today is used as a baptismal font.
A visit to Adi Cakobau College followed, and there the visitors were welcomed with
‘mekes’ and the Waterlily Song. The group, as always, replied with action songs and poi dances.
On the Sunday evening the group attended a combined Church service of all religions. Mrs Te Kawa read the first lesson in Maori and a European read the second lesson. Two hymns were also sung in Maori. An International Concert was arranged by the P.P.S.E.A.W.A. hostesses at which the first half of the programme was supplied by Fijian, Rotuman, Tongan, Chinese, English, Samoan, and Hawaiian members. The second part of the programme was given by the Maori group.
The final function was a social evening arranged by the women of Suva's Indian Clubs. Indian songs and dances were followed by a tasty supper of Indian foods.
Wherever Arahina went in Fiji they were given an enthusiastic welcome which made a deep impression on all. In this mission of goodwill and friendship we have established warm friendships whose results and benefits are hard to assess in words, but there can be no doubt of the deep affection and understanding engendered by the visit of the Arahina Branch of the M.W.W.L. Through this visit Fijian and Indian women have been the guests of Arahina and we hope that more visits will be made in the future. By travelling 3,000 miles and living together for eleven days the members learnt a great deal and look forward to similar tours by other branches of the M.W.W.L. to visit our sister groups in the Pacific.
Te Mate nei, te Kai Waipiro
I ngā rā o Pepuere, mai i te ahiahi o te 6 tae noa ki te 9 o ngā rā, i haere au ki tētahi kura i Massey College ki te ako ki te mate kino nei, te mate nā te kai pia, ā, waipiro rānei.
Tini atu ngā kōrero i puta mai i ngā tohunga o tēnei whenua, ēngari āku nei pitopito he pēnei:
Tēnei mate he mea kino; rite tonu ki te mate kohi.
I ngā rā o mua, te mate kohi nei e kore rawa e ora i ngā rata. Iāianei, kua kitea he rongoā hei patu i tēnei mate. I
From the 6th to the 9th of February I was privileged to attend the National School of Alcoholism's third School of Alcoholic Studies at Massey College.
Many things were said by different lecturers; however, the following are what I thought you would be interested in:
Alcoholism is a disease, comparable to tuberculosis.
Not so long ago, tuberculosis was incurable. Nowadays there are ways and means of fighting this disease. In the past people died because of it; today, they very
mua rā, mate ana te tangata; iāianei, ora ana tātau.
Pēnei tonu te āhua o te mate i haere nei au ki te ako. E mate ana nōki te tangata i te waipiro. Mā tō kaha anō ka ora ai koe.
I kī a Dr. Blake-Palmer, he tohunga ki te taha o ngā mate ehara ki te tinana, he pēnei:
Ki tā Father McFerran, nō te City Mission Family Guidance Centre i ākarana, te aroha ki ēnei tāngata! E mōhio pāhi ana ia ki a rātou. Ki a ia, aroha atu ngā mātua ki ā rātou tamariki i te wā i a rātou e ora ana, ēngari haurangi kau anō, kua huri ki te patu i ngā tamariki, i ngā wāhine rānei. ēngari hoki ehara tēnei i te haurangi koretake, ēngari te mate tino haurangi rawa, he mate nā te waipiro.
I roto i ēnei mea katoa, me āta haere. āta kai i tēnei kai, te waipiro.
I ēnei mea katoa mena koe e pāngia ana e tēnei mate, me pēnei koe; me whakaae koe
He kōrero tēnei nā Pāpu, he tangata i ora mai i tēnei mate:
‘Hore kau au i mōhio ki aku nei mātua. Tōku nei kāinga, mai i a au e tamariki ana, he whare-tiaki-tamariki. Tino koretake au, mataku noa iho. Ka kōrerotia mai au, ka wiriwiri kē aku turi—tino mataku au. Tekau mā whitu aku tau i te wā i kai pia
This is how it is with alcoholism. It can be a killer too, if you let it get a hold.
Dr Blake-Palmer, Deputy Director-General of the Health Department, made the following statements:
Father McFerran of the City Mission Family Guidance Centre in Auckland said that the problem of alcoholics and their families was a most distressing one, and one which he had been concerned with for some years now. When the alcoholic parent comes home sober the children are made a fuss of, but if he has been drinking, then the children and the wife may suffer physically. In many such cases it is alcoholism that causes the person to behave in a manner contrary to his nature.
From all these people I got the impression that moderation is the key-word.
They also stated that a person suffering from this disease should acknowledge:
A statement from an A.A. member, whom we shall call Bob:
‘I never knew my parents. I was brought up in an orphanage, then in a Boys’ Home. I was a weakling, always scared, and I kept out of the way. I was 17 years old when I first had alcohol. I felt great after this first “binge”. No longer was I afraid, I was brave enough to tackle anything and anyone.
ai au. Ka pai ki a au tēnei kai; ka māia au. Koia tēnei te take i huri ai au ki tēnei kai. Ehara nā te reka, ēngari nā te mea i te wā i a au e haurangi ana, tino māia au, kaha, koa. Kīhai i roa ka mōhio ahau kua mate au i tēnei mea. Ka haere au ki hea noa atu. I taku hokinga mai, he wahine tāku. Kīhai au i kai waipiro mō tētahi wā roa. Nō te hanga nuinga a ngā tamariki, ka nui haere aku raruraru. Ka hoki anō au ki taku pou, ki a pia. ēngari hoki nā, kua kino.
‘E hia rā, wiki, marama, tau, i pau i a au. Ara rawa ake au, kua pau kē ngā moni i a au te kai, kua mahue kē au i taku wahine, nā, te mea kino rawa ko tēnei: kua mate kē taku tamaiti. Ae, nā, ināianei he tangata ora au. E ono tau iāianei, ahau he tangata ora. Taku wahine, i hoki mai anō ki a au. ēngari koia tēnei taku oranga. E kore anō au e pā ki tēnei mea ki te pia me ērā atu waipiro, ā, mate noa au.’
ētahi atu nei kōrero he pēnei:
Nā ngā minita, ngā tāngata o ngā hāhi—tino aroha rātou ki ngā tāngata e pāngia ana e tēnei mate. E kore rātou e mea atu, ‘Haere atu, he haurangi koe!’ Ka mea kē atu, ‘Haere mai, māku koe e ārahi ki te Atua.’
Nā, e hoa mā, e aku whanaunga, hore kē au e mea atu ana kaua e kai pia. Ko taku tangi kē, me āta kai, kei hinga koe, a tātou, te iwi Māori.
I didn't drink because I liked the taste, but because of the great feeling it gave me, and later I realised that it had a hold on me. I went wandering and spent my time drinking. I met and married a girl, bringing her home here with me. For quite a while after this I didn't drink. When the children grew older, our problems grew larger. I found it easier to return to my “crutch”, the bottle. And now, I was really sick.
‘Days, weeks, months and years rolled into one terrible nightmare. When I finally came to my senses, I had spent all my money, my wife had left me, and worst of all, my child had died. Today, well, I am a sober man. For six years I have been “dry”. My wife came back to me. She is my stabilising influence. I know I will never touch beer or other alcohol as long as I live.’
Other statements were made as follows:
By the Ministers and representatives of the various churches present: they are greatly concerned with the people suffering with this disease. They will never say, ‘Go away, you are a drunkard’. Rather, they will say, ‘Come, and I will lead you to God’.
So, friends and relatives, I am not telling you that you should not drink at all. My plea is, drink in moderation, lest you and I and all our Maori people be affected by this disease.
Gold Star Award
Gold Star badges and N.Z.R.S.A. Certificates of Merit were awarded by the Dominion Executive Committee of the New Zealand Returned Services Association recently.
One of the Gold Star recipients was Mr William Herewini, Controller of Maori Welfare in the Department of Maori and Islands Affairs.
Mr Herewini served with 28 Maori Battalion and was a prisoner of war from 1941 to 1945. After returning to New Zealand he was associated with the Waikato, New Lynn and Porirua branches of the R.S.A., serving for three years as president of the Porirua branch.
In 1956, he was appointed to the Dominion Executive Committee as representative of Maori ex-servicemen. He has travelled overseas to Vietnam and to the World Veterans' Federation General Assembly in the Hague, as a representative of the N.Z.R.S.A.
He thinks he's a good fisherman, Toki, a good fisherman. Ah, yes. From the North he came in his young day to show the Ngati Porou how to fish. It was his boast that, to show the Ngati Porou how to fish.
‘They are all there the fish,’ he said. ‘In the waters of the Ngapuhi. The tamure, the tarakihi, the moki and the hapuka. And Toki, he has the line and the hand for all of them. Toki from North, Toki the fisherman.’
But it was not as a fisherman we saw him then but as a boaster and a stranger, though she was from among us, his mother. Ngati Porou she, married to a Ngapuhi and Toki her only son. A young man, Toki, when died his father, and his mother she came back to her home among us. A big welcome for her we gave, and gave it also to her son though we looked upon him with some suspicion. A boaster and a stranger this, and named Toki Fish by us since long ago days.
It was long ago days before the war, we had a mind for the same girl, Toki and I both. A beautiful girl this, and looking my way till he came with his boasting ways. The throat of a bird, she, and promised to me, for it had been arranged between our families. Then he came, Toki, and her head was turned until I showed him as a boaster.
After the wedding of our eldest brother when all were gathered for singing and dancing, he began again to boast of days fishing, Toki. And she listened with eyes down, the girl, which was a way of hers. Very jealous then I, and stood to speak.
The Editor of Te Ao Hou is always glad to hear from new contributors, Maori and Pakeha. Articles, news items, photographs, stories and poetry dealing with all aspects of Maori life and culture are welcome. Apart from short news items, all contributions published are paid for.
Te Ao Hou's address is Box 2390, Wellington.
‘Well it may be,’ I said, ‘to catch many fish where fish are many. In North they are plenty, the fish, and you wait with your hooks and your lines for them to come. A fisherman of skill catches fish where there are none to catch.’
‘They are many or they are few, the fish,’ said Toki. ‘But still they come to me because I have the line and the hand.’
‘Together then we, tomorrow,’ I replied, and he knew my meaning as did those who listened.
‘Not together, but one, then the other.’ he.
‘Together tomorrow to choose a place,’ I. ‘Equal then we. After that I go, and the next day you.’
They all spoke then, the old people, of days fishing, and much advice they gave to us of young days. But sat quietly, I, to wait for morning. Many times fishing with my father, and the fishing grounds known to me, but not for the ears of a stranger this. So I decided a place next day. Rowed together past the point of crayfish rock and in a line to Poroti where green meets blue.
‘Here then,’ I said.
‘So,’ said Toki.
It was all there, the bait, when we returned, for all were eager to see who would be the fisherman of skill. To the rocks for crayfish they, for it is best bait in these parts, the crayfish. Tied to the hooks with strips of flax because it is soft, very soft, the crayfish bait.
Next morning then I, with many there early to see me go. Out to sea with the day just coming, pulling strong and straight. Around the point, then quickly to the chosen place to get my line down before the sunrise.
Not one of the fishing grounds this, and doubtful I, at the start. But as the day came in, the tarakihi. A quick pull this, and knew many would follow because it is the way of the tarakihi. Eight hooks on my line and counted eight before bringing them up. Fat they were, waving in the water as my hand pulled in my line. Quick
to put on my bait again and put it at the bottom of the sea, for it feeds quickly, the tarakihi. Four times to the surface with eight, and a good beginning. But the time after this, pulling in the line, there came the heads of my tarakihi but not the bodies. Gone, the bodies. The work of a hapuka this, and very excited then I.
Quickly to change the bottom hooks for a bigger size and tie the bait on firmly.
‘Come to me hapuka,’ I said. ‘Come old man. Come to the line of Hotene. This is the line for you and this the bait.’
My hand felt the pull of the tarakihi many times but waited. Then away, the line, with the strong, slow pull of the hapuka.
‘Mine then,’ I said, and brought him up.
A big size this, though it was not the ground of the hapuka.
Then the slacking of the water, and rolled in my line to rest and get ready my ‘spinner’, for it is the time of the blind eel, this.
Not many more fish for me that day, but knew my catch was good for such a place of chance. Home then, hard pulling with my paua shell ‘spinner’ flashing at the back of the boat, waiting for the eye of the kahawai. Round the corner it waited, the kahawai, and a spread of green and silver as it took the spinner.
A happy fisherman then, I, heading for home to the crowd on the beach. A lucky day this, and knew I'd not be beaten. But then it was, as I waited for the eighth wave to take me in, that I thought of what could happen. He sees all these fish of mine, Toki, and he will know he cannot equal in such a place chosen. He will go then, well out to sea, to the grounds of the hapuka. There to fish because his boast is strong.
Now in these parts the landing of a boat is not safe except to come in on the eighth wave. Watch for the biggest, then after this, turn into the eighth. It is the right size this one to take your boat to the shallows safely. Kept from the ears of Toki, it would be my safeguard, this.
To the hills, I, early next morning and from there saw the little boat head straight for the deep. Glad then that I had kept the secret of the waves.
Many were there to watch him come in and so sat quietly to watch. No counting of waves Toki, but turned his boat into a breaker of small size which brought him halfway in. But then came the big one. A big one this, swelling and getting faster, up to the boat, then … crash!
Swamped, the boat, and Toki in the water with his catch around him as I had known. Toki Fish we called him as he swam for shore and that has been his name since. All were happy for me to show him as a fool, because all knew he had not gone to the chosen place to fish. And she came to my side once more, the girl, and is there still though old lady now, she.
He goes for the paua and the kina now, Toki. He throws his line from the beach for the shark, but no more in a boat he, for fear of what would be said. But a boaster still this one, a boaster still. It blows strong, the wind from North.
SUBSCRIPTIONS TO TE AO HOU
Are only 75c for one year
$2 for three years
WHY NOT MAKE SURE OF GETTING YOUR COPIES?
Send a cheque or postal note today to—
The Editor, P.O. Box 2390, Wellington
(These subscription rates apply in N.Z. For overseas rates, see contents page).
Stand a while with me
Beneath this mighty matai,
Planted on this shadowed forest track
Four centuries ago.
This was the spot on which
She met her husband, Pikiao.
For love of him she placed it here,
And named it for herself.
Custom says that those who pause
Before this ancient tree—
Make some small offering of greenery,
And a prayer—will be guarded well
Throughout their journey.
Stand a while with me
And see the reverent offerings
Of our modern travellers.
Broken beer bottles,
Scraps of dirty paper,
Empty packages, as empty
As their hearts.
— Joan Taylor.
Hori was a big man—
On the Railway scales
he weighed twenty stone.
He loved the pictures.
The seats were narrow
so he sat in the aisle.
The Manager said,
‘Hori is a good Patron.’
He removed an arm between two seats—
In the front row.
Hori was comfortable,
On the screen—Cowboys.
That was years ago.
* * * *
Now Hori is a respected old man.
He spreads himself out
on the living-room couch.
His back is rested.
Released from pinching boots,
Curl in delicious freedom.
On the screen—Cowboys.
Hori watches Television.
— Marie Andersen.
Tevita lounged in the shade of his parents' thatched roof house, strumming his guitar softly. It was 10 o'clock by his new gold watch, and back in New Zealand in the car assembly factory, it would be morning tea time. If he was still there, he would be drinking tea in the cafeteria and eating those big buns with the pink icing that he had liked. He missed them. He missed so many things since he had come back to his home island after five years away. And he had come home with such enthusiasm too.
Only three weeks ago he had been aboard the ship coming up to the island. He had been excited, so excited that he couldn't sleep, and it had been 3 a.m. when he had got out of his bunk and shaved, while the other three men in the cabin had muttered angrily. He had ignored them. It wasn't every day that a man came back to his island after making good in the outside world. And he had made good. He had three fine suitcases of clothes, and presents for everybody—a sewing machine for his mother, a double-barrelled shot gun for his father and a bicycle for his sister.
Five years before, he and his brother had
left as ignorant Pacific islanders, setting out into the great unknown. Now he was back as a man of the world. But it was his intention to forget the world, to find a wife and settle down and grow bananas, kumaras and cut copra.
As they had come up to the island he had sniffed the rich tropical smell, a smell better than the smoke of the city.
When they had first arrived in New Zealand he and his brother had worked in a gloomy, smoky shovel factory, but then they had moved to a car assembly plant, where working conditions were much pleasanter and the money better. Bolting on bumper-bars was a good job, and Tevita had never found it monotonous standing in the same place on the assembly line as the cars moved past, doing the same job day after day, week after week.
There had been only one thing wrong with his home-coming at that moment on the ship, and that was that his brother wasn't with him. But his brother said he was crazy to go back home to grubbing in the kumara patch. Life was better in New Zealand. But Tevita had been home-sick and the call of the islands couldn't be resisted.
His foreman had been frankly envious. ‘I wish I could go to the islands where it's always summer and lie under a coconut tree.’
Tevita had agreed, but he didn't agree now.
Nothing had gone as he had expected. The welcome was warm enough, but he'd expected something somehow different. They accepted him matter-of-factly and were more interested in news of his older brother and when he was coming home. But perhaps it was his fault. He had changed, and the island hadn't.
It was just as if he had never been away, even the same cracked cups were still in use in the house. And his parents still treated him as a boy instead of the man-of-the-world he was.
He didn't think his father, or any of the family, really believed him when he said he helped to build motor cars. His father said they were too complicated for any Pacific islander to make. But how else did he think he had earned the money to buy the new shot gun, and the sewing machine, and the bicycle, and his guitar? They had accepted the presents as their due, and they used all his things without asking him. His father was wearing one of his good white shirts now.
His father was stretched out asleep in the shade of the verandah, but he had been fishing since midnight and had only come home an hour ago, and with only a few small reef fish to show for his night's work. His mother was down the back, hoeing the kumara patch. He could see her through the coconut trees if he raised himself, but it was too hot to make the effort.
He should be out in the plantation working around the banana palms now, as his sister was, but he didn't have any energy. He didn't like to admit it, but he'd much rather be back in New Zealand bolting on bumper-bars in the car factory.
The family weren't really interested in his stories of life in New Zealand. They listened for a few minutes and then returned to gossiping about trivial village happenings, of babies and marriages, or if it was men, speculating on the weather and the crops. Or they talked about the new church they were going to build in the village one day. They didn't seem to care that he could tell them about the buses and the trains in New Zealand and things in the shops, much better things than the miserable display of sugar and tea and tobacco and kerosene in the little village store.
His mother had shown some interest there, but then she had said she didn't have any money anyway, so she started to gossip with his aunty about the new pandanus mat she was making for the floor of their house.
And all his father was interested in was fishing. Of course there wasn't much to do on the island except go fishing.
He told them about the picture theatres in New Zealand with comfortable seats, but they didn't seem to think they were any better than the village picture theatre with its hard wooden seats and the scratched old films shown on an ancient projector which broke down once a reel.
They were all ignorant Polynesians, he thought resentfully, and if he hadn't said he was coming home for good he would have caught the next boat back to New Zealand. But he couldn't do that without
an excuse, and he couldn't think of one. He'd opened his big mouth too much in the first few days he had been back about what he was going to do on the family land. He suggested they buy a tractor—he almost had enough money to buy a second-hand one—and employ labour to work on the plantation for wages instead of the family doing it. But no, the old ways were the best ways. And they expected him to be out labouring in the hot sun. But he was a thinker, not a labourer.
Home was nothing at all like he had anticipated. All the boys he had grown up with were married or had emigrated, and the girls were so young and naive, not like the girls in New Zealand. They didn't wear lipstick and scent, except on Friday nights to go to the dance. He'd had a Samoan girl friend in New Zealand and he remembered her now with affection. But he'd always had a hankering to marry a girl from his own island. But perhaps he should have stayed in New Zealand to do that. The island girls all seemed to have gone to New Zealand to work as waitresses and maids in hotels and in the kitchens and laundries of hospitals.
He tried to get a little more comfortable on the hard ground. He'd like a cup of tea now. He had got used to it at this time of the day, but making tea here meant lighting a fire and boiling a tin of water, and it was too much trouble.
If they had electricity he would be able to put on the electric jug, but there was no electricity in the village. There was no water either. They had a tank which was filled from the rain off the roof, but it hadn't rained for two weeks, and it was empty, and his mother or sister carried water from the big village tank.
How casually he had treated his nightly showers when he had come off the assembly line before he changed into his good clothes and went down the road for a beer. People in New Zealand didn't realise how lucky they were, and he hadn't realised how he would miss a simple thing like a shower.
And he was growing a beard because his electric razor was useless in this village. It was just as well he had not brought an electric guitar back. That would have been useless here too. He strummed the strings gently so as not to disturb the old man, though his father would rise soon after a short rest and go down to the bananas and work there until sunset. He'd forgotten how hard life was on the island.
It was so hot a cold beer would be even better than a cup of tea, but there were no bars on the island, and he'd have to cycle into the main village to buy some and bring it home to drink it. And it would be warm beer because they had no refrigerator to cool it. He struck a loud chord and his father stirred.
But there was an even louder noise approaching. He watched the ancient truck belonging to Tamati of the village store chugging across the grass towards the house, coughing and spluttering because it wasn't firing on all its cylinders. It had no bonnet, and a thin trickle of steam issued from the overheated radiator. The sagging rusted body leaned to the left because its springs were broken. He thought wistfully of the smart new cars he had worked on.
The truck shuddered to a stop and his father woke. Tamati and his father greeted each other courteously. Then his father called him. ‘Tamati would like you to have a look at the engine of his truck which is not going very good. Tevita.’
Tevita sat up. ‘I do not know very much about engines,’ he said.
‘I have told everybody that my son knows everything about engines,’ his father replied softly. ‘In New Zealand he made cars.’
‘I only worked in a factory where they were made. My speciality was bolting on bumper-bars.’ He looked at the bumperless truck. ‘But my speciality would not be of much use here.’ And he smiled. But the joke went flat, like everything had since he had come home.
‘Perhaps you could have a look at it,’ Tamati said. ‘There is nobody in the village except you.’
‘The garage in town?’
‘It is a long way and the truck is not going very good.’
Tevita got up reluctantly and inspected the oil and dirt covered engine. He poked and prodded, but he didn't know anything about engines. In the factory they came complete and were put in and were staried and they went. He shook his head. ‘It wants a mechanic.’
‘You are not a mechanic?’ Tamati asked disappointedly.
‘I am a factory assembler. I make cars, not fix them.’
‘Your time was obviously wasted in New Zealand,’ his father said sadly.
Tevita knew that he had shamed his father in the eyes of Tamati. He should never have come back, he thought miserably. His older brother had been right, he was crazy.
Tamati got slowly back in his truck and started the reluctant engine, and missing badly, it chugged off, leaving a drooping Tevita standing in the hot tropical sun.
His father wordlessly got his hat and prepared to leave for the banana plantation.
Tevita closed his eyes and slept. His home-coming had been a complete failure.
A young girl, daughter of the village constable, woke him an hour later to say there was a telegram for him at the radio station. And would he ring the radio station and they would read it to him.
Tevita wondered who would be sending him a telegram as he walked across the village green to the village constable's house, followed by a retinue of village children. A telephone call was a big event in the village, and a telegram an even bigger one.
The constable's wife beckoned him inside and he lifted the handset off the hook of the old-fashioned wooden crank telephone, nothing like the coloured plastic telephones in New Zealand. ‘Hullo,’ he said cautiously.
The radio station established his identitv and read out the text of the telegram which was from New Zealand. ‘Please send me case of bananas from our plantation.’ And it was signed ‘Brother’.
‘Was it important?’ the constable's wife asked interestedly.
‘Yes,’ Tevita said thoughtfully. ‘Very important.’ He and his brother had always enjoyed bananas sent from their own plantation, though they had always made Tevita home-sick. His brother must be feeling a little home-sick. He'd have to be cured quickly.
Still followed by the boys and girls he strolled homewards. The village houses were still in the strong sunshine. Everybody not working in the plantations was asleep. It was a very familiar scene, but he didn't think he was going to miss it. The car factory had said he could have his job back any time he wanted it, and he had laughed. He hoped he hadn't laughed too much.
His mother had heard of the telephone call in the kumara patch, his father and sister in the banana plantation, and they were waiting on the verandah for him.
‘What was it?’ his mother asked anxiously.
‘A telegram,’ Tevita said casually in a man-of-the-world manner. He was not a common villager excited by a telegram.
‘What about?’ his father asked.
‘From the car factory,’ Tevita said regretfully. ‘They want me to come back to work as soon as possible.’
His father nodded.
‘I will have to return to New Zealand on the next boat,’ Tevita said more briskly than he had spoken since the day of his arrival. He made no mention of the bananas, and he wasn't taking any back with him, they were too depressing. He felt happier than he had since the day of his arrival, and also sadder, as if he had, somehow, failed.
I Te Mate Ka Tu Ka Ora
The Whitianga people were once in force, but over the years their number and strength declined.
But today the people have stood up and banded together.
We will now live again and be strong.
This expresses the thoughts in the minds of the local people last November, when a new dining hall was opened at Whitianga. It was named ‘Rangi Te Tae Taea’ after a tipuna of the Delamere, Black, Poihipi and Tawhai families. The historic meeting house on the marae, Tutewake, is one of the oldest on the East Coast, but the present meeting house was re-erected in 1957.
The people at Whitianga are of Te
Whanau-a-Apanui Tribe, but the hapu at Whitianga is known as Ngati Paeakau, which means ‘where the bodies drifted or landed on shore’. The name originated from a fatal accident at the Motu River in 1904 when 16 Maori children were drowned while crossing the flooded river on their way home from school. The sole survivor of that tragedy, Mrs Kararaina Monita, was present at the opening of the new hall.
Very heavy rain fell on the opening day, and after the wero, haka and powhiri, the official guests went into the meeting house. They included Mr J. H. W. Barber and Mr J. Rangihau, both of the Rotorua District Office of the Department of Maori Affairs, Mr J. Loving, County Council Clerk, Mr Haratua Rogers, Chairman of the Waiariki District Council, and their wives, and the Mayor of Opotiki, Mr Chatfield.
Speeches of welcome and thanks for assistance given in the erection of the new dining hall were made by Mr Tu Toopi of Whitianga, Mr Peter Ngamoki of Omaio, Mr Norman Perry of Opotiki, Mr Syd Tawhai of Omaio, and Mr Ngakohu Pera of Waioeka.
The weather then cleared, so everyone again assembled outside, where Mr Rogers, Mr Loving, Mr Chatfield and Mr Rangihau spoke. Mr Barber, who had been invited to perform the opening ceremony, then replied to the speeches of welcome and congratulated the people on their enthusiasm in completing the project. He also referred to the progressive outlook of the people towards the Trade Training and Pre-employment courses and to the high standard of Maori housing in the area. He then declared the hall officially open, saying, ‘May your young virile people receive great fruits from its use.’
Father Murray dedicated the hall, the flag was raised, and the door unlocked by Mrs Monita. A delicious meal followed.
Aborigines and Maoris
The argument that you can't compare Maoris and Aborigines, or the education programmes for them, because Maoris are, after all, smarter, more sophisticated and more educable will not hold water.
The inherent potential of the races to achieve education is equal. To judge this potential on shades or pigmentation and to attribute social values and consequences — like promiscuity, inability to handle liquor, uneducability — on physical differences is racism.
Maori education schemes are very much more successful than Aboriginal programmes. In a 1965 Maori population of 197,628, 54,521 children were in primary, 12,672 in secondary and over 50 in university institutions. In a 1966 Aboriginal population of (at least) 130,000 the figures were 19,306, 2,596 and 6 respectively.
In turn, the Maori situation is well below that of the Pakehas (whites). Last year the drop-out rate of Maori school-leavers was still very high: 85 per cent of them left without a school certificate (our leaving) and only 24 per cent who sat for the certificate obtained it.
The ‘drop-out’ reasons are similar for Maoris and Aborigines: differences in cultural environment between home and school; lack of an educated parental model to follow; language difficulties; awareness of school as an alien, white institution; and, importantly, poverty.
Nevertheless, the Maori system has some first-rate achievements, and it is worth looking at the reasons for them. An obvious feature is that Maori children are staying longer at school than ever before—and certainly much longer than Aboriginal children. In 1965 there were 3,380 Maoris, or 26.6 per cent of the secondary enrolment in Forms V and VI. Of the 2,596 Aboriginal secondary pupils in 1966, we have a form analysis for Victoria and N.S.W. only: of a total secondary enrolment of 1.262, only 27, or 2.14 per cent. were in the two top forms.
The main reason for Maori achievement is that their education is seen as a total process: from infant schooling through to adult education. In Australia we have sunk all our eggs into the primary basket and avoided, or evaded, the education of the whole community. Assimilation, or equality is for the under 30s only, runs one popular claim.
The N.Z. play centre movement is a magnificent concept and one which works in practice. Its essence is that the play centres (pre-school centres) are operated entirely by the mothers. The pre-school officer of the Maori Education Foundation assists Maori communities to become aware of their value, then to set up and run such centres themselves.
As many mothers as possible are trained (one mother in six, of those involved in play centres, by 1967). Three certificates are involved: one at the end of six months (attainable on a verbal basis), one at the end of a year and the third at the end of two years. There are training manuals of an easily understandable kind for mother-supervisors. Of the 423 play centres now operating, 228 have a part or full Maori roll.
Maori communities have thus come alive and have turned their attention to other community needs—supervised homework classes, adult education, arts and crafts—using simple buildings and equipment made or adapted by themselves. These combined activities as an extension of play centres are called family education centres.
The aims of play centres are being achieved: stimulating parents to take more active interest in their children's education and the running of their communities, and increasing their children's social experience and knowledge of English—to equip them better for formal education. In contrast, we have about 2,164 Aboriginal children attending pre-school centres in Australia, that is, standard middle-class European-value-oriented centres. Balwyn kindergartens don't transplant on the edge of the Simpson desert nor do they bring with them any real parental involvement.
The play centres, family education centres, and Maori schools, or schools with large Maori numbers, have recognised, or tried to recognise, one important value: group identification or group solidarity. That Maori children feel more secure in a Maori community environment, and where Maori is often (but not often enough) taught as a school subject, is accepted. There are no over—or undertones of segregation, and few cries of apartheid. The users of that wretched slogan ‘assimilation’ for ever see any notion of ‘separate’ as Pretoria-model discrimination.
This is very much the case in Australia—to the point where some administrations won't keep separate statistics for Aborigines—thereby preventing the pinpointing of a particular problem. This is not done for sound educational reasons, but for sociopolitical ones. We maintain, unquestioningly, an education system in which one child in four attends a ‘separate’ school, separate for social, economic and religious reasons. Why scream at Maori or Aboriginal exercises in group identity?
Linked with this group approach is the Maori Affairs Department's philosophy on post-school training. Their aim is to spread Maoris through all occupational strata and thus prevent an unskilled Maori proletariat. In 1961 the census showed 90 per cent of Maoris in labouring, working, unskilled and semi-skilled occupations, as opposed to 69.7 per cent of the Pakehas; the figures were 10 per cent and 30.3 per cent for administrative, executive, professional and technical occupations.
To achieve a better or an equal spread, the department provides incentive trade training courses in plumbing, carpentry, electrical wiring, panel-beating, motor mechanics, painting and plastering. By last year 829 boys had been taken in, of whom 557 had completed training and been placed with employers. To date, there are 1,072 registered Maori apprentices.
The main features of this programme are: the selection of trainees is based on a first-class vocational guidance system; the special ‘pre-training’ — varying from 6 months to two years, the only part for which the department is responsible, is provided for Maoris only; the lads do practical work in teams, based on compatibility; the training includes additional courses in English, maths and ‘urban adjustment’; the pre-training is done by qualified staff of
technical colleges; pre-training counts as part of the normal apprenticeship; the drop-out rate is lower than the N.Z. average and employers prefer Maori apprentices because they've plunged into the trade from the start—and don't ‘boil the billy’ for the first year or so. There are more applicants than training places available.
Above all, the training is real, providing a real carpenter's wage for a carpenter's skill. In Australia we often delude ourselves and the Aborigines with our training schemes.
In the Northern Territory, for example, we persist in the ‘training’ of Aborigines, with Grade III or IV education, as ‘bakers’, ‘butchers’, ‘carpenters’, etc., for periods of three weeks to six months. On completion, the trainee cannot get a job in the general community or, if he does get one, he is soon dismissed for lack of professional competence. When a ‘trained’ Aborigine ‘proves’ unequal to the job, the stereotype of his uneducability, inferiority and stupidity is reinforced.
The Maori schemes require a minimum of three years' secondary schooling. Despite low higher-form numbers, there are still enough Aborigines with three years' secondary to warrant a genuine trade-training scheme—if only to demonstrate, as in the Maori case, that there is something worthwhile to do after school.
As Leonard Radic pointed out in his recent ‘Age’ series, Aborigines have an horizon of unskilled labouring and seasonal fruit-picking in southern Australia, and semi-skilled or skilled pastoral work in northern Australia, but skill as yet unrewarded.
Finally, Maori education has the undoubted benefit of a national education foundation. The M.E.F. provides grants for primary, secondary, vocational and university students (in 1966, 1,125 grants to the value of $138,064); it subsidises new play centres and fosters their development; it acts as adviser and co-ordinator to other departments; it provides university liaison officers to assist Maori students, and it undertakes vital research into the problems of Maori pupils.
At an Aboriginal education seminar last year, we were told by a senior Aboriginal administration officer that the first Aboriginal matriculant in the Northern Territory could not be expected before 1975. Given that the Commonwealth started formal education for Aborigines in 1950 — and the missions many years before then — we are left with two possible speculations: either Aborigines are biologically unique and stereotype prejudices are indeed scientific facts — or the Aboriginal education machine needs a major overhaul and some new parts.
Mr W. C. Wentworth, Minister in Charge of Aboriginal Affairs, is favouring the latter at present, judging from his appeal last week for a self-help and community development approach — an approach which has provided an educational and economic return for both Maori and Pakeha in New Zealand.
Te Rangi Hiroa Fund
In recognition of the scholarship of the late Sir Peter Buck (Te Rangi Hiroa) and the inspiration he has given to later studies of Pacific History, a group of interested persons has decided to establish a fund to be known as the ‘Te Rangi Hiroa Fund for the Study of Pacific History’.
Contributions to the fund are now being sought. Donations and pledges come to over $2,000 but a considerably larger sum will be necessary if the capital is to be preserved and only the income from it used for awards.
Awards will be of four types:
An annual prize for the best essay on any aspect of Pacific history by an undergraduate student at any university in the South Pacific Islands.
An annual award for the best essay on any aspect of Pacific history by a student at any teachers' training college or other institution of tertiary education within the South Pacific Commission area.
An anual prize for the best essay on any aspect of the history of the Pacific Islands by an undergraduate student of any university outside the Pacific Islands.
All essays would be presented in English or French, and awards will be first given in November, 1969.
Subject to sufficient funds being received, small scholarships will be available
Working at a skilled job as a bookbinder in Christchurch is Matenga Karauria, originally from Waiomatatini on the East Coast.
After attending Ngata Memorial College, Ruatoria, for three years six months, Matenga went to Christchurch in August 1959 and stayed at Rehua Hostel. He had been senior librarian at Ngata College and had done very well at art, so took up an apprenticeship in bookbinding, a craft that seemed in line with his talents and interests.
Matenga also enjoyed music, drama, electronics and photography, and was very interested in Maori culture, so he joined the Workers' Education Association Maori Club, where he is a tutor. He was Club President in 1966.
He stayed at Rehua Hostel until 1963, being Head Boy for two years, then tried private board for a while and finally moved into a flat of his own. He is still interested in art, electronics and photography, and is able to follow these interests at his leisure.
Now a fully qualified tradesman, Matenga works as a ‘finisher’, putting the final touches of quality on well bound books. Titles and gold lines across the spine of a book are put on by heating metal letters and pressing them onto gold leaf or foil. The art is in having the tools the right heat, and in spacing the lettering so that it is nicely centred and just fills up the width of the spine. This is Matenga's job.
Our picture shows him applying letters to a book held firmly in a vice. Beyond him is a pile of finished books.
Two other boys from the East Coast have followed Matenga into the bookbinding trade, with the same firm, F. Cartwright and Son. They are Pehi Raroa, who returned to the North Island after completing his apprenticeship, and Haua Karini, who is still an apprentice there.
Saturday, 16 March was a scorching day, almost too hot for even a regatta, and the thousands watching the events were envious of the competitors in various craft on the water.
Ngaruawahia attracted visitors from near and far, and as usual, the Maori war canoe and hurdle races drew the largest crowds.
Fortunes varied in the races, and one of the funniest sights was to see one leading canoe suddenly lose way and begin to sink. Crew members stayed in position and gradually, as trunk and shoulders went below the water, their heads become a row of equidistant dark patches on the surface. The canoe was righted and no harm was done, and the watching crowds enjoyed the unplanned entertainment.
In our last issue, we pictured Aroha Manawatu on the night she won the ‘Miss Canterbury’ title. Since then she has come second in the ‘Miss New Zealand’ contest after touring the country with the other provincial winners for nearly two months.
Although the ‘Miss Canterbury’ show was the first beauty or personality parade Aroha had taken part in, she had been
keenly interested in modelling, and after three years at the Marjorie Baird School of Deportment, graduated with the Diploma of Deportment and Modelling.
Christchurch audiences have had the chance to meet Aroha at store fashion parades and public appearances. During the Christchurch Pan Pacific Arts Festival she appeared at a local store for a two-week Festival of Fashion. These and all the other engagements associated with being ‘Miss Canterbury’ have given her plenty to do.
At the ‘Miss Canterbury’ contest, held in the Winter Garden on 13 February, the judges found it so difficult to decide on the winner that they took 20 minutes to reach a decision. Aroha's win was popular with the audience.
During the contest, each girl made three platform appearances, in day, swim and evening wear. Aroha wore white on each occasion. First, she wore a tunic suit of her own design, then a lacy swimsuit, and for the final appearance she wore a white crepe evening gown, highlighted with a choker of jet beads.
As the provincial winner, Aroha received a considerable variety of prizes, including a fashionable wardrobe of street, evening and sportswear, corsetry, lingerie, jewellery, cosmetics and hair styling.
The night of the judging Aroha was nervous. In fact she felt nervous about it for a few days before the show. Since then she has attended a public speaking course and this has helped her confidence considerably.
Aroha was educated at Papanui High School, and until she won the ‘Miss Canterbury’ contest, was employed as a typist-clerk in a city office. She has resigned from the job, because she found that as ‘Miss Canterbury’, there were modelling and personal appearances which could not be handled in her spare time.
As a member of the Arohanui Teen Club in Papanui, she is keen to learn Maori culture. She was club secretary for three years. The club activities include action songs, poi dancing, wire work, flax weaving and other Maori art. Her Maori costume was made by her grandmother.
Aside from modelling which is now her main interest, Aroha enjoys sewing
A few months ago, Aroha had planned to visit Australia to try her luck there as a model. Now that the ‘Miss New Zealand’ contest is over, she may still decide on an across-the-Tasman quest in search of modelling contracts.
William A. Gamble
Winners of Travel Awards
Pictured at right with Mr J. M. Robertson, General Manager of BALM Paints, is Brandon Williams, from Maketu, one of two painting apprentices selected last April for a trip to Australia. This is the fifth year that the awards, sponsored by BALM Paints (N.Z.) Limited, have been made, and Brandon is the first Maori boy to win one, He is one of the first painting apprentices to complete the course begun by the Department of Maori Affairs.
With the other winner, Basil Davoren of Gisborne, Brandon was due to spend a month in Melbourne studying the latest developments in painting techniques and working on large contracts under the guidance of BALM's Australian company. They were to have a few days in Sydney before returning to New Zealand.
The two most outstanding boys in their first year of apprenticeship at the Christchurch Technical Institute were again given a three-day trip to Wellington by Taubmans.
This year they were Bill Tini and Ned Wharehinga. Our picture shows Ned receiving an engraved putty knife from Taubmans General Sales Manager, Mr I. M. Simpson.
Ahuwhenua Trophy Presented
Lady Porritt with Mr Whatumoana Paki and Sir Arthur with Dr Pei Jones, about to move forward after the challenge.
Those who gathered at Turangawaewae, Ngaruawahia on Monday, 18 March came for two reasons. It was the first visit of the new Governor-General, Sir Arthur Porritt, and the Ahuwhenua Trophy, given by a former Governor-General, Lord Bledisloe, was to be presented to a local dairy farmer, Mr G. C. Hopa.
Sir Arthur and Lady Porritt and their daughter Joanna were escorted onto the marae by Dr Pei Te Hurunui Jones and Mr Whatumoana Paki, husband of Queen Te Atairangikaahu. They were challenged by Revd D. Manihera and welcomed by the local women and by a group of boys from St Stephen's College, Bombay.
Three elders, Mr Paraire Herewini, Mr Haare Piahana and Mr Eruera Manuera. welcomed Sir Arthur and his party, making particular reference to their pride in welcoming a distinguished son of New Zealand now given the high honour of representing Her Majesty the Queen in his own country. The crowd greatly enjoyed Mr Piahana's
remark that this appointment of a New Zealander was a step in the right direction, and that perhaps the next Governor-General would be of Maori blood.
In his reply, Sir Arthur thanked the people for their warm welcome and said he realised the full significance of the day.
‘I pass on, with pride, the special wishes of Queen Elizabeth,’ he said.
‘With the presence of her representative and Queen Te Ata together here today, it is as good an example as we could want of the value of kinship and kingship.’
Sir Arthur referred to the carved stick he brought with him, saying that this was not the first time he had been welcomed to Turangawaewae, and the stick had been presented to him when he visited the marae at the time of the Commonwealth Games in 1950.
Before presenting the Ahuwhenua trophy, Sir Arthur said, ‘I am delighted to be making this presentation, for three reasons. First because it is for work on the land. Then, because this trophy was presented by Lord Bledisloe, a beloved former Governor-General of our country. Finally, because Mr Hopa is a fine example of a hard worker. His spirit is one we should all follow. We should all try to produce a little more.’
He then presented Mr Hopa with a
After entertainment by the local women and St Stephen's College boys, the viceregal party had lunch with Queen Te Atairangikaahu.
With the opening on 21 May of a third hostel, ‘Te Aranga’ in Ensors Road, there are now more than 160 boys attending technical training courses in Christchurch.
This new hostel, staffed and supervised by the Catholic Maori Mission, is providing accommodation for 40 boys, and enabled new courses in bricklaying and motor mechanics to be started, and a second course in painting to be provided at the Christchurch Technical Institute.
Third Christchurch Hostel Opened
The Minister of Maori Affairs, the Hon. J. R. Hanan, and the Roman Catholic Bishop of Christchurch, the Most Revd B. P. Ashby, were challenged as they arrived by Tui Te Whare of Taupo, and were welcomed by the haka party led by Spencer Carr of Taranaki and G. Brennan of Christchurch. The group later entertained the visitors with action songs.
Speeches were made by His Worship the Mayor of Christchurch, Sir George Manning. Mr Riki te Mairaki Ellison, on behalf of the local Maori people, Mr R. Jones, on behalf of the Board of Governors of the Technical Institute, the Most Revd B. P. Ashby and Mr Hanan.
Revd Ashby dedicated the hostel, and after inspecting the facilities, the visitors were served afternoon tea.
Mr Hanan spoke of this year's major expansion of the trade training schemes operated by the Department of Maori and Islands Affairs. As well as the new courses in Christchurch, the opening of a new Technical Institute at Hamilton enabled the Department to start another course in carpentry.
Twelve courses in eight apprenticeship trades are now running at four centres, with an annual intake of more than 200 boys. Since 1959, when the first course in carpentry was started at Auckland, 1,051 boys have begun training. So far, 699 have finished training in the schemes, of whom 295 have completed their apprenticeships.
To mark the achievement of taking more than 1,000 boys into the schemes, a set of books and a taiaha were presented to Anania Wikaira, a carpentry trainee, who came from Auckland especially for the occasion.
Anania, whose elder brother was in the 1963 electrical wiring course, comes from Whirinaki, which is on the Kaikohe-Opononi road, about 15 miles from Rawene. Aged 17, he was a prefect at school last year and is a very keen footballer. Our congratulations to Anania on being the 1,000th trade trainee.
Unveiling at Rotoiti
On Saturday 27 April, at Lake Rotoiti, a tombstone was unveiled.
It was in memory of the late Samuel Horouta Emery and his wife Kataraina Teurumahue, who had both been wellknown and loved by people in the Rotorua area.
Mass was said in Te Rangiunuora, the meeting house at Taurua Pa, Rotoiti. Waiata were sung by the Honokai Group, over three-quarters of whom are Pakeha women.
Following the service, everyone proceeded to the cemetery, half a mile from the pa, where the unveiling took place.
First Life Member
of Rotorua and District
A prominent Rotorua Maori with varied interests both in sport and community affairs has been awarded the first life membership of the Rotorua and District Justices of the Peace Association. He is Mr Claude Anaru who spends his retirement ‘pottering’ in his attractive streamside garden in Rotorua.
Born in the small East Coast settlement of Raukokore where he went to primary school, Mr Anaru completed his education at Te Aute College. In 1920 he left the college to work in Rotorua. For about 24 years he worked with a firm of solicitors before becoming a legal clerk in the Department of Maori Affairs. Seven years later he became secretary of the Arawa Maori Trust Board, a position he held till his retirement about three years ago.
Mr Anaru was appointed a Justice of the Peace in 1947, and Mrs Anaru—whom he married in 1924—was appointed a J.P. about 15 months ago. With Mr C. J. Wright, Mr Anaru was largely responsible for the formation of the Rotorua and District Justices of the Peace Association—formerly incorporated with the Bay of Plenty association.
During his active life in Rotorua, Mr Anaru was one of the first members and secretary of the Waikite Rugby Football Club for about 40 years; was deputy-Mayor for nine years; secretary of the now defunct Ohinemutu Swimming Club; a member of the Rotorua Bowling Club; secretary of the Rotorua Rod and Gun Club; first secretary of the Motutara Golf Club; member of the Rotorua Racing and Trotting Clubs; and for 17 years was a member of the Rotorua High School Board of Governors—the second longest term of service by any member of the board.
In June 1957 Mr Anaru received the O.B.E. for service on local bodies and to the Maori people.
Mr and Mrs Anaru have six children—including two headmasters, a soil conservation officer and two accountants—and 14 grandchildren.
Louis J. Edwards
People and Places
Radio is her Teacher
Rangi Kinita is the only student among 942 pupils at the Rotorua Girls' High School permitted to listen to a radio in class. She has to, as she is the only pupil taking lessons in She Maori language and there is no teacher of the subject at the school. A Form Six B pupil, Rangi has been taking the subject by correspondence for about 18 months. Whenever the Correspondence School in Wellington broad-easts its lessons in Maori language, Rangi retires with her radio to a small room in the school where she may study undisturbed.
Louis J. Edwards
He Puaawai Trophy
Pictured below is the home and garden of Mrs Z. Taka, of Otahuhu, who was the winner of the first Auckland Gardening Competition, open to all Maori homeowners. Other place getters were Mrs H. Penny of Manurewa, second, and Mrs B. Manley, Mount Wellington, third.
Mr J. Moore, Auckland District Officer of the Department of Maori Affairs, organ-
ised the competition and donated the trophy which is to be competed for annually.
There were sevently applications for the competition. This was a good start, and there was so much interest aroused, it is expected that there will be even more entries in future.
An International Evening held on 17 February as part of the Huntly Centennial Celebrations proved a great success. Part of this was due to the charming hostesses, who made the guests feel quite at ease.
Our picture shows Myrtle Watene on the left and Christine Roda on the right, with Mrs Meri Hohaia in the centre.
The marriage of Manawa Teresa Wara, eldest daughter of Sonny and Tamorangi Wara, and Raymond Katipa took place at Ngatai-e-Rua marae, Tuakau, during the poukai held there earlier this year.
The bride was given away by her father, and the Revd Waka Grey officiated.
In the back row are: Brian James, Wil- liam Katipa, Hema Wara and Sonny Katipa.
Second Row: Lorraine Wilson, Nganeko Wara, Raymond Katipa (groom), Teresa Wara (bride), Robin Abraham and Charmaine Hira.
In front are Katrina Wara and Kahu Cooper.
When the ship bringing thousands of copies of the special Centenary Edition of
several books of the Bible in English and Maori was held up in Hong Kong by engine trouble, Air New Zealand came to the rescue of the British and Foreign Bible Society and airfreighted replacement copies.
Taking their first look at the new publication are the Revd E. H. Moody, General Secretary of the British and Foreign Bible Society, Canon Hepa Taepa of Wellington, and Canon John Tamahori of Te Aute.
Welcome at Rakaumanga
Mr Hori Paki, who will be 103 years old in July, welcomed Mrs Dorothy Knight and Miss Olga Yuke to Kaitimu Pa, Rakaumanga, during their recent visit to New Zealand.
These two Australian Aboriginal ladies visited the Kaitimu Pre-School Family Centre, one of the many they saw during their stay. (See article on page 43.)
Mr John Te Herekiekie Grace, M.V.O., of Wanganui, was created a Knight Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (K.B.E.) in this year's New Year honours list.
An elder of Ngati Tuwharetoa and member of Te Arawa and Mataatua tribes, Sir John, owner of a sheep station on the Parapara Road, spends most of his time advising his people on their affairs.
Educated at Tokaanu Primary School, Te Aute College and Wanganui Technical College, Sir John joined the Lands and Survey Department in 1926 and the Maori
Affairs Department in 1928. He served with the R.N.Z.A.F. during World War II and attained the rank of Squadron Leader. He served as Private Secretary to the Rt Hon. Peter Fraser, to the Hon. E. B. Corbett, to the Rt Hon. Keith Holyoake, and in 1958 to the Rt Hon. Walter Nash. Since 1959 he has held various executive positions with the National Party, and contested the Wanganui seat in 1963 and 1966.
He is also the author of ‘Tuwharetoa’ a tribal history published in 1959, for which he collected material for over 20 years.
SEATO Conference Staff
Five of the seven people staffing the Post Office in Parliament Buildings during April's SEATO Conference, were Maori.
Standing are, from left, Mr Howard Hakaraia from Russell, who was relieving during the conference, and Mr Otene Rakena, from Rapaki, Lyltelton, the Postmaster. Seated are Miss Huia Maitai from Nuhaka, a clerk engaged in machine printing, and Mr Ron Anderson from Coromandel, a Telex operator. The fifth mem- ber, Mr John Church of Wanganui, was absent.
After leaving New Zealand in mid-1967, an exhibition of Maori art has been on tour in Australia, Western Samoa, Singapore, Malaysia, Hong Kong and Japan.
Traditional Maori artifacts borrowed from the Canterbury, Auckland and Dominion Museums are being shown alongside sculpture, paintings and other works by modern Maori artists. The display was assembled by the Departments of External Affairs and Tourist and Publicity.
The display at first consisted of 24 artifacts and 18 modern wood carvings and paintings, and has since been augmented by 23 items including three waka huia, a war canoe prow, two cloaks, tiki and flutes. It has stimulated keen interest in Maori culture wherever it has gone, and New Zealand High Commission and Embassy staffs have displayed Maori photographs and shown films on arts and crafts, songs and dances to interested viewers.
Last October, the display, after being in three Australian cities, and in Apia, was opened at Kuala Lumpur by the Deputy Prime Minister of Malaysia, Tun Abdul Razak.
Later, after being seen by an estimated 25,000 people in Singapore, the display was set up in the City Hall Art Gallery, Hong Kong.
The most recent showing has been in Tokyo, Japan, where the exhibition was opened on 3 May by Her Imperial Highness Princess Chichibu. The display, in the large Tokyo Department Store, was visited by 20,000 people in its first week. The addition of several more display items and a large selection of both colour and black and white photographs held by the New Zealand Embassy there, plus fully explanatory captions in Japanese as well as English, contributed to its success.
The Mauriora Entertainers
After being away from New Zealand for four years, the ‘Mauriora Entertainers’ returned earlier this year for a brief visit.
In our cover picture are, from left at back, Ratu Tibble from Te Araroa, Dawn Nathan, Wellington and Joe Tibble, Te Araroa. In front are Taite Kupa from Hastings and Agnes Paipa, Wellington. The sixth member, Kim Porou from Hastings, was absent when the photograph was taken.
With headquarters in British Columbia, they work mostly in Canada and the United States, but they have visited Alaska, Bangkok, Taipei and Hong Kong. Occasionally they work for the New Zealand Government, usually in promotion work for New Zealand. They travelled down to Los Angeles to perform when B.O.A.C. inaugurated their flights to New Zealand, and were invited to perform in Bangkok at the P.A.R.T.A. conference held there.
In an interview Dawn said:
‘We have been doing two 25-minute shows in the Vancouver Club in Canada, and usually begin our performance with one of the boys working the taiaha—a challenge—then we go into an action song of welcome, and canoe poi, a stick game and a double short poi. Then we might introduce a ‘fun’ number such as the ‘motor car’ song. Most of the songs are in Maori. We might sing two songs in English and two in Maori, then do the double long poi, and finish off with an action song.
‘We sometimes do the second half of our programme singing Pakeha songs because the members of the group have such good voices. But the Maori costume is eve-catching and receives the most comment. We could be appearing with other artists who may be wearing the most expensive ball gowns, but the Maori costume always attracts the most attention.
‘We filled a six months’ engagement in high-class clubs throughout California and Arizona, and this was a full-time job, as we were doing four shows a day. As well as singing, we would explain how our costumes were made, and the interest and response were fantastic.
‘Our plans are to make a tour of the campuses over there. We have already visited many High Schools and Colleges, where tremendous interest is shown, and our reception in these places has been really enthusiastic. One of the reasons our show goes over so well, is that the theatres, even in colleges, are so well equipped with lighting and other facilities that are needed for good shows.
‘Mostly we do night club work, but also do concert programmes lasting two hours. We don't find this tiring, seem to get enough rest, and have time on our hands to see the sights of the places we are visiting—we even went gold-panning in Alaska. We have performed in many peculiar places, like in a lions’ cage in California.
‘As a group, we have enjoyed meeting people, and the Americans are apt to be overwhelming with their hospitality. Because we are a happy group, both on stage and off, people want to meet us. They seem attracted because of our happy outlook and want to talk to us. When we are performing we try to transmit the feelings we are experiencing, to the audience, and this happens. This is what makes the people enjoy our performances—they are feeling, with us, our joy in the things we are doing.
‘Because of the expense, we did away with an agent, who would get ten per cent of our takings, and I am managing the group, and handling the business end of the work. We have more money this way after expenses have been paid, than if we were working with an agent. There is no problem for me as I type and do secretarial work, and find I have time to do all that is necessary in handling the work for the group.’
We wish Dawn's group continued success in the entertainment field.
Two Aboriginal Women
Visit Our Play Centres
An interesting development in a crosscultural relationship programme initiated by the Adult Education Department of the University of Sydney, was the establishment in 1967 of Aboriginal Family Education Centres in Box Ridge, Tabulum and Woodenbong.
Maori mothers, trained in play centre techniques, helped Aboriginal mothers organise their own pre-school centres, the foundation of the Education Centres. Despite many handicaps and expected fluctuations in performance, these experimental groups have been successful. Aboriginal Welfare Board officers and members of the Sydney University staff, long accustomed to Aboriginal apathy, have been pleasantly surprised at the changes in the women. An unexpected competence in organising and carrying through to completion the tasks they had undertaken, gave them confidence.
To give further incentive and encouragement and to extend their training, the Sydney University and the Aboriginal Welfare Board sponsored two Aboriginal women on an eight-week tour of New Zealand. Dorothy Knight and Olga Yuke were chosen because both had been connected with the Box Ridge A.F.E.C. since its inception, had completed the first stage of supervisor training and had received the Northland Play Centres Association Helpers' Certificate.
Dorothy, a vigorous, articulate sixtyeight, born of an Aboriginal mother and a white father and married to a white man, has lived most of her life, and is happiest, on or close to the Aboriginal reservations. She lives in the town of Coraki with her daughter and grandchildren, but most of her social activities are spent with the Aborigines on the Box Ridge station about two miles from the town.
Olga, a full blooded Aborigine, lives with her small son at Box Ridge, an area set aside for the Aborigines where the housing is slightly superior to that in other stations and roughly equivalent to the poorest Maori Affairs Department housing in New Zealand. Always quiet and preferring to remain in the background, she was receptive to new ideas and had an intense desire to help her people.
It was aimed to provide them with a better understanding of play centre techniques by seeing fully operating centres, Some would be in conditions similar to their own and others quite different. Although Dorothy and Olga had a good basic knowledge of play centre observation procedures, because of the ‘helper’ training, they lacked fluency. It was hoped that they could carry their observations further and in greater depth by working with more experienced mothers in the centres. It would be demonstrated that equipment made from the natural material of the environment could be a source of learning. In addition, there was a need for them to see racial co-operation and receive help in some way, to develop the enlightened leadership that would be needed when they returned to Australia.
The itinerary was arranged by Mr A. Grey, now of the University of Sydney, in co-operation with the New Zealand Play Centre Federation secretary, Mrs M. Edwards, and the Associations concerned. They were to spend several days in each locality under the guidance of the local play centre officers. The itinerary was:
Monday, 25 March:
Arrive in Auckland and travel to Whangarei. Train with the Northland P.C.A. until April 11.
In Rotorua visiting centres and sightseeing with the Rotorua P.C. Association.
Travel to Napier, meeting with the Hawke's Bay P.C. Association, around the coast to Gisborne and Tikitiki with the East Coast-Poverty Bay P.C. Association.
19 April–8 May:
Travel to Whakatane and train with the Bay of Plenty Association.
At Palmerston North, N.Z.P.C. Federation Conference.
Travel to Hamilton. Visit Family Pre-School centres around Hamilton, Paeroa, Tauranga and Matakana Island.
Travel to Auckland.
Return to Australia.
Their experiences in the North were repeated throughout their stay in New Zealand. They experienced their first traditional Maori welcome on Te Ohaki Marae, near Kaitaia. There, as on the rest of the tour, they stayed in the homes of Maori play centre parents.
They visited Te Hapua Play Centre and stayed the night on the marae. This is New Zealand's most northerly centre and is entirely Maori. Because of isolation and lack of material wealth, this group has had to use imagination and initiative in making equipment and building up their centre.
Te Ahu Ahu, one of the first rural centres established in Northland, was a good example of Maori-Pakeha co-operation. Olga and Dorothy were surprised at the equality of the Maori's place in New Zealand society and began to see that when the Maori contributed to the community, he was more readily accepted. However, they also visited centres where there was little co-operation, where Maoris had left because of Pakehas and vice versa. They were able to talk about these problems to both Maori and Pakeha. Gradually, they recognised that people of both races found it necessary that for there to be harmony in the centres and elsewhere they had to seek mutual recognition in a more positive way. They began to see that racial cooperation is an active two-way process.
Not all their time was spent on serious work. They were shown all the tourist sights, rural and urban development, but it was from the people they met that they got their greatest understanding of the New Zealand way of life.
There were some unexpected developments. This was a pioneer visit and Dorothy and Olga had to withstand a universal curiosity. So many people wanted to see them and to question them, that it became a problem to keep the purpose of the tour in mind and not be distracted by invitations that came from people everywhere. Public interest was aroused, and in them; newspaper editors saw a good story. Reporters and photographers almost became travelling companions. It was an interesting commentary on our stereotype of the Aborigine, that local people were not prepared for Dorothy and Olga. Preconceived ideas of Aborigines as primitive were shaken by the reality of two selfpossessed women, with the result that at times reactions were uncertain.
It is difficult to do more than generalise about the benefits of the tour. On the whole, it was successful. Difficulties were met. The amount of travelling undertaken and the continual changing of personnel and places confused and imposed a strain on them. This was evident when I met
them again at the N.Z.P.C. Federation Conference. By that time, they had become reticent with strangers and resistant to questioners. It may take some time for them to sort out their impressions, but some will be significant; the more comprehensive picture of race relations; the more complete view of the function of a play centre; the value of parent participation in child and self-education.
A recent bulletin from Lex Grey tells that the day Olga and Dorothy arrived back in Sydney, the experience they had gained was put to work immediately. In the Sydney suburb of Redfern they helped a group of Aboriginal women to plan the opening of an A.F.E.C. The next day they met another group at La Perouse. It was here that Olga's growing confidence was noticed. From her assessment of what she had seen here, she was definite on the need to be prepared to let children learn and discover for themselves in the play programme.
In a recent letter Dorothy expressed her pleasure in all she had experienced in New Zealand. Of the forthcoming visit of Maori women she said ‘… it will be just like welcoming sisters and we will be so proud to introduce them to other folk.’
New Zealand help and encouragement for the A.F.E.C.s and the resulting growth in ability and confidence will continue. A further exchange of visits between the countries, for the continuation of training to the higher levels of supervisor and Liaison Officer will be necessary. A growing awareness of the value of the programme by the general Australian public will help ensure that the infinite potential of the Aborigines to contribute to society will at last be recognised.
To the Maori Parents
Looking at the Future
A Maori Point of View
Tēnā koutou e ngā iwi o Aotearoa.
The centennial celebrations of Maori schools held recently and the changeover of control of these schools has ended a fine era in the history of education in New Zealand. It is interesting to browse through the files and note the vigour of the Maori parents in striving to educate their children and grapple with the complexities of life which accompanied the onrush of Western civilization. It is noteworthy too, to look back and reflect on the achievements of our forbears, for, if it wasn't for their tenacity and aspirations we would not be in the comparatively favourable position that we find ourselves at the present time.
There have been Maoris who have reached the highest positions in all walks of life—some of them of course with world reputations. We can look back to Ngata, Buck and Pomare, but we do not need to remain there. At the present time Maoris are prominent in sport, music, commerce and the professions.
But should we be happy with the present situation? Should we be complacent and bathe in the reflected glory of the past? I, for one, would say, no! In a highly technical and complex world we cannot afford to adopt a ‘Hei aha!’ attitude nor should we be saying ‘apopo!’ when it can be done today. This is not a time to look backwards but a time to look forward. Far too often we look backwards into the past. But our vision should not remain there. We should look backwards only to gain strength to go forward.
One may ask ‘What is in the future?’, ‘What should we be striving for?’, ‘How
can we achieve our goals once we have found them?’
May I suggest an answer to all these questions. Although your views may differ from mine I would like to present mine, particularly in relation to education. These views are from a Maori who has been through our present education system, qualifying at university level.
Although we, as a Maori race, have come a long way there should not be any complacency. We have not yet reached the educational level of the European. Far too many of our children drop out of school from lack of encouragement. Far too many leave school when another year could be of some real value. Any additional year of school is an additional qualification. If we look at statistics we find only one quarter of all Maori children sitting School Certificate in any one year obtain this qualification. There should be about fifty per cent. Therefore, there are a few hundred Maori pupils who sit the exam but do not pass even though they have the intellectual capacity to do so. Seven per cent of all Maori pupils leaving high school should go on to university. At the moment only one per cent go on to higher learning of this nature.
This is a poor picture, and there is a need to exploit the potential within our children now, when half of the Maori population is under 15 years of age. If we don't, then we will perpetuate a problem longer than necessary. It requires a greater awareness by all that education is most necessary at present and will be increasingly more so in the future. If there is anything which is respected nowadays, it is an educational qualification. There is no limit to how far one can go, providing one has educational qualifications. Therefore, it is necessary to discover how children learn and how they are able to obtain the most out of the education system.
There is no doubt that the English language is the most important single subject in the curriculum at both primary and secondary school and even at university level. Therefore, all children must be subjected right from birth to the accepted language of the schools. Far too often our children arrive at primary school linguistically ill-equipped and at a disadvantage when compared with the European child. In addition, our education system quite rightly has been planned for the European child, since it has its origins in Britain. Immediately a Maori child, or any child, becomes aware that he is at a disadvantage it becomes a psychological problem and he does not perform as well as might be expected. His selfrespect is damaged.
All children have a tremendous amount of learning to do while at school. Any ‘disadvantaged’ child finds it hopelessly intolerable when he or she is relegated to the lower section of the class. Of course these children do not catch up to the European child generally but find themselves in the ‘C’ and ‘D’ classes at secondary level. Continual failure throughout their school lives inevitably results in poor performance, low achievements and damaged self respect, and before long they yearn to leave school not because of their lack of native intelligence, but ‘because school life has offered them nothing but failure’.
It is, therefore, important to bring up your children with better English fluency. Sit down and talk; allow them to talk; read books to them; answer their questions and give them a great number of varied experiences while they are young. These rich experiences in the bush, on the beach, at the zoo, the airport, the railway station, the farm, the river, and on the lake will provide further opportunities to increase their facility with English. At pre-school level these experiences are vital. All children will learn and are willing to do so.
All children are capable of handling two languages quite easily. But the most important factor here is that far too often most Maori children have been subjected to poor Maori and poor English and these poor languages have been mixed up so much that the ‘disadvantaged’ child starts primary school with a dialect that is not the type that European children have experienced right from birth nor is it the language demanded by the school.
What is required is correct Maori and correct English. In this way you can give your child a better chance to succeed at school.
One of the ways in which you can improve your child's readiness to begin primary school on the same level with European children is to give your child pre-school training. There is no doubt that all children gain from pre-school experiences. It takes some months to settle into a primary school if the child has no pre-school experience. The child has to learn what a desk, a blackboard, a piece of chalk, a teacher, a book, a duster is, and this takes up valuable time. But all this can be learnt before the child goes to school, at a kindergarten or a play centre. It is advisable for the mother to attend the local play centre as well, so that she can get a better insight into child upbringing.
Attendance at Primary School
Most lessons at primary and secondary schools lead on from the previous lesson and so it is vitally important that every child attends school regularly. Any absenteeism is likely to make the child even more ‘disadvantaged’.
No child can learn effectively without the help and encouragement of the school and the parents. It is, therefore, necessary for the parents to join forces with the school. Parent-Teacher meetings and any parental visits to the school are vitally necessary, not only for the parents to learn what is being taught, so that they can help their children at home, but also for the children's sake as they obtain a tremendous amount of encouragement when they know their parents are interested in their school life.
I have also found that children are selfconscious about their clothes and their lunches, particularly if these items are not as good as those of the other children. Again, their self-respect is damaged, and this affects their school work and their mental processes.
Every possible situation should be checked to ensure your child starts off and continues to be an ‘advantaged’ child at all levels of educational training.
The Place of Maoritanga
I think that all Maori children should be taught at home and at school the basic understanding of Maoritanga and a greater fluency in Maori language. I say this because it is necessary for their self-respect. There are so many potential Maori leaders who could do much more for our Maori people, if they knew how to speak Maori, since it is the language of the marae. So often I see the hesitant Maori, who could give so much, retire into the background because of this lack of training. If a Maori is educated he is expected by the European and by his own folk to know at least something about himself in regard to Maoritanga.
All children attending the local high school must have encouragement from parents. This encouragement takes many forms. It requires a period of talks to the pupil about school life; it requires discussing his work with teachers; it requires attending functions at school; and it requires rigid control of his swotting programme each night. Whether the pupils have any set homework or not, they should be reading over their notes or preparing for the next day.
Many Maori parents are perturbed that they cannot help their children at this level because they lack the knowledge. Let me stress the point that even as a university graduate I would never hope to give my child any tuition in his science subjects. But what he will get is a quiet room for at least two hours every night of the week and every possible encouragement from his parents.
It is now possible for adults to attend classes to gain School Certificate and even higher qualifications. I suggest for the good of your children and yourself that you attend these classes and take one or two subjects. I know of a Maori who, in his early 30s sat School Certificate in 1964 and gained very high marks. He is now a junior lecturer at Auckland University. But this is not the only person. A Maori mother with seven children gained her School Certificate and is hoping to attend a teachers' training college. Another Maori lady who gained her supervisor's exam at a play centre is now wanting to start her university degree. There are so many things you can do if you are willing to give yourself a chance.
Finally, there is no doubt that educational training is vitally necessary nowadays. For every educational qualification gained, a far greater number of opportunities become available. No matter what colour a person's skin is, nowadays, if he is qualified, he has a great chance of obtaining the position for which he has applied.
There are qualified Maoris in insurance, land agencies, technical and professional fields, dress designing, the armed forces, the trades, the teaching profession, in law, medicine, dentistry, accountancy, university and training college lecturing and in all walks of life, but we need more and more, and this requires education to a greater degree than ever before.
Nā reira me haere tātou mā te huarahi mātauranga o te iwi Pākehā me te huarahi mātauranga o te iwi Māori. Kia ora ano koutou katoa.
T. K. Royal,,
Assistant Officer for Maori Education,
Record Student Number
This year's total of 92 Maori students is a record number for Auckland University. There are 27 first-year students and 65 others. Four Maori students will be capped this year and 14 are close to completing degrees, including a Ph.D., an M.A., and 12 Bachelors' degrees, each needing only two units for completion.
Land Development in Fiji
On a recent tour of South Pacific countries, I spent two days with the Ministry of Natural Resources in Fiji, inspecting methods of land development being adopted on the main island, Viti Levu. The island comprises some six to seven thousand square miles of mainly bush covered mountains, with peaks to 4,000 feet, but with very fertile river basins and foothills.
Eighty-four per cent of the land is owned as native reserves, some 10 per cent is freehold, and the remainder (mainly mountain-top country) is Crown land. The native reserves are held in large or small areas by matangali, that is, tribes, subtribes or families, who have over the centuries lived on and farmed the land to provide their own food. It is only in recent years that attempts to break down these areas into farms for individual settlements have been successful.
A nominee of the matangali on settlement is permitted to borrow up to £300 from the Fiji Development Bank, to purchase harness, wire, seeds, and even a couple of horses if the matangali are unable to supply them. He is required to house himself in a thatched roof, bamboo hut, and no living allowance is payable to him. The development loan is charged at 6 ½%, and is repayable by way of deduction of half the value of all produce sold from the farm.
Administratively, settlement is carried out by the Department of Natural Resources who have divided Fiji into three areas or divisions—central, northern and eastern— and each district has a Commissioner. Under each Commissioner there are a number of District Officers, each of whom has one, two or more Field Managers, and each Field Manager may have two or three Scheme Managers responsible to him, and each Scheme Manager may have 30 or 40 farms to look after. Neither the Field Manager nor the Scheme Manager is in any
way trained in agriculture, nor do they claim to have any agricultural knowledge at all. Their job is purely administrative and coordinating, and for any advice on farming matters they call in the Department of Agriculture.
The Department of Natural Resources' Head Office sets the objective for acreages of maize, tapioca, tobacco, water melons, rice, sorghum, broom corn or any other crop, and these objectives are then divided out to districts depending on soil types and acreages available, and so on down to individual Scheme Managers, who plan the acreages to be planted in any of these crops in either the wet or the dry season on each farm under his control.
The Scheme Manager then writes on his blackboard, which is usually in his house, each settler's name and number, the acreage of his farm, the crop to be planted for both wet and dry seasons, the acreage planned for each settler, the amount of his debt still owing to the Fiji Development Bank and also the amount that he owed at the same time the previous year. Regularly, and not less than once a month, all of the settlers are brought to his house where they sit down in front of the blackboard and discuss whether or not these planned acreages can be planted and the progress being made by each one of them, not only physically in terms of crops grown, but also financially in terms of the amount of money he still owes and the progress he is making towards his repayments.
When the settler has repaid his debt to the Fiji Development Bank, he is then entitled to apply to the Bank for a further advance of £200 to build himself a house. The house is a weatherboard structure measuring about 12 feet by 10 feet, unlined and devoid of any amenities whatsoever as we know them in New Zealand, but I am assured that there is great jubilation in the family when this stage is reached and this type of housing is provided. The wives are most happy and are able to spend more time in the field with their husbands and the husbands are extremely happy about it too because they are relieved of the necessity to assist their wives around the house during the day. At the time we were there, most of the farmers and their wives and families were busy stripping maize cobs and drying the corn on sacks. It is then bagged
and sent to a central development district shed where it is weighed, graded and sent away to the market.
It was with a Scheme Manager, Mr Atunaisa R. Tavuto, that we spent a very enjoyable afternoon looking over the Dabelevu scheme in the Sigatoka Valley about half-way between Suva and Nadi on the southern end of the Island. The Dabelevu scheme comprises a settlement of 36 farms almost side by side, of round about 20 acres each.
Atu told us that these farmers were given leases for 30 years from the matangali, with a right of renewal for 10 years, and a further right of renewal for a further 10 years. At the expiration of the lease the lessee may get compensation depending on what is granted by the Court, but any compensation granted must be for improvements that have been effected with the consent of the Court, and of the matangali.
We questioned Atu about the size of the farms and received from him assurance that 20 acres was the maximum that a man and his family could look after, particularly on high labour content crops like tobacco,
South Pacific Countries
This article is the text of a speech given by Mr Ross Walker, General Manager of Fruit Distributors Limited, to the Wellington Rotary Club in May. We felt that Mr Walker's concise and interesting summary of the Pacific Islands would be of great interest to our readers.
New Zealand's interest in our near neighbours dates back to the time of Sir George Grey, who envisaged New Zealand as the centre of a South Pacific empire. Sir George Grey's vision was carried on by Sir Julius Vogel and by Sir Robert Stout and Mr Seddon. In 1871 Sir Julius Vogel informed the Imperial Authorities of his wish to establish protectorates over Fiji and the Solomon Islands but in 1874, despite Vogel's vision of New Zealand as the centre of a Pacific Federation, Fiji was ceded to Great Britain by Cakobau, King of Fiji.
The vision of Sir George Grey and Sir Julius Vogel fell on Mr Seddon who made many attempts to establish protectorates over Samoa and Fiji, despite the fact that Fiji had been ceded to Great Britain and that Samoa was at that time administered by a tripartite of Great Britain, Germany and America. Seddon at this time said that New Zealand was geographically the centre and must ultimately prove to be the mother colony of all the Islands adjacent. The possessions he coveted most were those along the trade routes between New Zealand, Vancouver and San Francisco. He protested strongly when the American residents of Hawaii deposed the Queen and set up a Republic. He considered this action would injure the British Empire and interfere with his own plans for the Pacific cable.
He then asserted New Zealand claims to Norfolk Island. This Island, however, was eventually handed by Great Britain to the State of New South Wales.
By this time New Zealand had acquired certain rights in the Cook Islands, although in 1888 Great Britain declined a protectorate over this group, of which the nearest Islands are approximately 1,600 miles north of Auckland. However, in 1890 it was agreed that New Zealand would appoint a resident whose salary, expenses, etc., would be defrayed by New Zealand. Then in 1899 Britain renounced its rights in Samoa in favour of Germany and America, much to Seddon's disgust. In his opinion the boundaries of New Zealand should be expanded to include the Cook Islands, Fiji, Tonga and the Society Islands, that is, Tahiti. However, again Great Britain stepped in and in 1900 declared a protectorate over Tonga.
By this time all the Islands adjacent to New Zealand, apart from the Cook Islands, seemed to have evaded the grasp of Seddon and eventually the Cook Islands were annexed by New Zealand in 1901 and have been regarded as a part of New Zealand ever since.
Seddon made a spectacular visit to Rarotonga about this time, pointing out the need for a steamer to carry produce to its various markets and that New Zealand would lend the money to buy a ship. He declared his intention to send engineers to blast channels through the coral reefs to improve landing places.
At the time of New Zealand's annexation of the Cook Islands, the main administrative force was the London Missionary Society and very strict missionary laws applied. The severe penalty of flogging was administered for such offences as:
Being pregnant and unmarried;
Going from one village to another on the Sabbath;
Taking an unmarried woman inland, and
Crying over a dead woman when not related to her.
New Zealand established its own laws in the Cook Islands but some of the missionary laws still exist, e.g. the adultery law.
However, about four years' ago the Cook Islands set up their own government. They are still protected by New Zealand and they are still regarded as part of New
Zealand. The group of islands is heavily subsidised by us to the extent of approximately $2,000,000 a year.
Seddon was not content to sit back and accept the fact that Fiji would be administered by Great Britain. He tried again to annex Fiji in 1901. At that time in Fiji there were 100,000 native Fijians, 12,000 Indians and 4,000 Europeans. In 1966 there were 202,000 Fijians, 240,000 Indians, and 33,000 made up of Chinese, Europeans, part-Europeans, Rotumans and other Pacific Islanders.
From the trade side it is interesting to note that back in 1901, Fiji's trade with Australia was four times as great as it was with New Zealand, and a similar position still applies.
Western Samoa eventually came under New Zealand influence when New Zealand troops landed there in 1914, taking the country from Germany. At that time the native population was 32,000 but 8,500 died through the ‘flu in 1918–19. Today there is a population of 132,000, showing the enormous growth since it came under New Zealand influence in 1914.
So Seddon's dream of a great Pacific Federation with New Zealand at its head did not come into being. The prizes eluded him and he was left with, eventually, only the Cook Islands—a widely scattered group of islands none of which could be self-supporting.
Although all the Pacific Islands are of intense interest to New Zealand, those with whom we are most closely related and which are under our protection are the Cook Islands, Niue, the Tokelaus and, through a Treaty of Friendship, Western Samoa.
These Islands consist of 15 inhabited islands with a total population of 20,519, the total area of all the Cook Islands being 93 square miles—relatively small when you compare with the Chatham's 372 square miles.
In 1966 exports from the Cook Islands amounted to £870,000 while their imports were £1,572,000 of which total, foodstuffs amounted to £429,000.
The most important island in the group is Rarotonga where New Zealand is to build a new airport at the cost of $6,000,000. It is the seat of Government and it is the attractive centre which Cook Islanders from all the outer island groups hope to see and hope to settle in. Rarotonga, however, is only 22 miles round. Its total area is 16,602 acres and it has a population of 9,733. Its exports consist of citrus fruits, citrus fruit juices, tomatoes and coconuts. It is hoped that a substantial tourist industry will develop through the new airport facilities.
The next largest island is Mangaia of 12,800 acres—with a population of 2,097. The production of pineapples has been encouraged on this island. However, it is extremely difficult to develop an industry on one crop alone, particularly as the fruit cannot be canned on the island and it has to be shipped out from these areas to Rarotonga. You will recall that Mr Seddon, in his visit to the Cook Islands in 1900, promised a blasting of the reefs in the islands, but it is only in recent years that any blasting has been done, the main work being done in Mangaia.
Some of the Northern Islands, Manihiki and Penhryn, had fairly large deposits of pearl shell and this has been quite an industry there.
The other islands are mostly coconut producers, although the total production of copra in the Cook Islands per year is now approximately 1,000 tons. These islands are:
|Aitutaki||4,461 acres||2,904 pop.|
|Atiu||6,654 acres||1,404 pop.|
|Mauke||4,552 acres||866 pop.|
|Mitiaro||550 acres||331 pop.|
|Manuae||1,524 acres||18 pop.|
|Palmerston||500 acres||102 pop.|
|Pukapuka||1,250 acres||800 pop.|
|Nassau||300 acres||113 pop.|
|Manihiki||1,344 acres||1,089 pop.|
|Rakahanga||1,000 acres||363 pop.|
|Penhryn||2,432 acres||694 pop.|
Communications are difficult and it is very doubtful whether any of these islands can be made really self-suoporting. There is a gradual trend of emigration from these islands to Rarotonga and then there is considerable emigration from Rarotonga to New Zealand.
Land tenure, one of the bugbears of the
Pacific Islands, is a tremendous problem. A lot of the land is not in use, owing to part-owners being in New Zealand. The Cook Islands' Government appears to be tackling this problem but it is one that must be solved before any agricultural progress can be made in the group, and agricultural progress is so necessary if only to grow a greater proportion of their own food.
This has an area of 100 square miles. Although really one of the Cook group, it is separately administered still by New Zealand, although it has some form of local Government.
Exports in 1966 totalled £54,777— imports a total of £258,361 of which foodstuffs amounted to £78,000. The population is 5,225.
This is a coral island with extremely difficult access. It was formerly a fairly considerable kumara producer but because of the incidence of kumara weevil, very few kumaras are allowed into New Zealand from there and then only into the South Island.
of Karangahape Rd, Papakura, Papatoetoe, and Pakuranga … the keenest place to shop
the place for Bargains always
BUY FOR CASH, LAYBY, TERMS, CHARGE or “STORE CURRENCY”
$1.00 initial deposit in “Store Currency” gives you $20.00 spending money within the Store … with 20 weeks to repay.
KARANGAHAPE ROAD, AUCKLAND
PRIVATE BAG, C.I.
and at Papakura, Papatoetoe, and
It has a fairly large administrative problem and the successive administrators have done everything possible to improve the situation there.
They are now turning to bee keeping and the development of a small cattle industry. Most of the local labour force is employed in Government works.
There are three atolls consisting of 2,500 acres, and the population is 1,900. Exports in 1966 were £4,971—imports £20,354, including foodstuffs of £6,000. An effort is being made to bring these people from these coral islands, over 2,000 miles from New Zealand, to New Zealand to find employment here.
Western Samoa consists of two main islands—Savaii with 660 square miles, and Upolo of 430 square miles. There is also the adjoining island of American Samoa with a smaller population and relying very heavily indeed on American finance for its survival.
For the year ended December 1967, trade in Western Samoa consisted of exports worth $3,139,000—while imports amounted to $5,535,400.
When New Zealand took Western Samoa from the Germans in 1914, the population was, as I previously mentioned, about 32,000. The economy was largely based on copra and cocoa and excellent plantations existed, administered by large German firms.
New Zealand held Western Samoa under a mandate from, originally the League of Nations, and then the United Nations for a period of years until 1960 when the country was granted full independence. But under a treaty of friendship with New Zealand, the two countries were forged very closely together indeed.
However, unfortunately, the copra plantations in Samoa are becoming old and it is only in the last few years that any great effort has been made to replace the old plantations and to establish new ones.
The external trade of Western Samoa is mainly still based on three commodities— copra, cocoa and bananas, but the production of bananas has suffered a very severe setback through the hurricane of 1966 and
through the incidence of various banana diseases in the territory.
There are very few jobs for people in Samoa apart from agricultural jobs, and a few years ago, from a census taken, it was apparent that only about 6,000 people out of a population of 130,000 were employed in pursuits other than in agriculture.
Religion plays a tremendous part in the lives of the Samoan people. I would imagine that there would not be in the world a population so consistently God-fearing as the Samoans.
Through the difficulties of land tenure, the difficulties of finding markets for the goods that can be produced in Samoa, this country will have serious financial difficulties in the future, despite the fact that a large American concern has now procured forestry rights on the island of Savaii, the revenue from which rights should assist the country very considerably indeed.
New Zealand is giving considerable aid, particularly to the Cook Islands, the Tokelaus and Niue, and in direct aid for 1968 the following is proposed:
Cook Islands $2,000,000
(Mainly for administrative facilities, capital works, and loans in aid of the economic development plan and principally aimed at the rehabilitation of the Niue coconut industry and the associated development of grassland farming.)
(Plus a further amount of $21,000 on account of devaluation.)
Western Samoa $400.000
So that in 1968, New Zealand aid will have amounted to, in Niue, $170 per head of population, and in the Cook Islands, $100 per head of population.
The kingdom of Tonga is a British protectorate. The main island is Tongatapu and there are a number of other islands, 100 or so in the Vavau group and the Ha'apai group. There are the fairly large islands of Eua and Tin Can Island, or Niuafoo—an island which suffered a severe volcano disturbance in 1940.
The total area of the Tongan group is 259 square miles and their trade figures for 1965, which are the latest available, show that exports, in Tongan currency (on a par with Australian at that time) amounted to £1,253,264—their imports £1,700,000.
In Tonga all the land belongs to the King but every male over the age of 16 years, provided he has paid his poll tax of $3.20 a year, is entitled to a grant of an allotment of land in one of three forms—
Either an area of bush land not exceeding 8 ¼ acres, rent 80c a year plus a rent-free town allotment, or
An area of 12 ¾ acres of bush land, rent 40c a year and no town allotment, or
A grant of 15 acres of land subject to Cabinet approval granted in special cases by nobles.
With the now rapidly increasing population, it is difficult to find these land allotments except in some of the remote islands which are not very attractive to young men. The King of Tonga told the legislative assembly in October that whereas there were now 39,837 males in the kingdom who are, or will be, entitled to tax allotments, there were currently only 13,017 allotments to distribute to them.
The King stated that the growing population and shortage of land had created a problem which could not be pushed aside. Two-thirds of the entire male population of this kingdom, he stated, must find work other than on the land. It would be difficult in a short time to increase the number of people working in many of the avenues of employment that already existed for Tongans, but there were other opportunities that could be greatly expanded. The fishing industry was relatively untapped with very few commercial fishermen operating. Housebuilding and engineering were other industries where people could be suitably employed and the King said that those people who had land had to do more to ensure that it was worked to the maximum.
He also stated that it was necessary to consider the teaching of technical and vocational subjects in schools and reducing the teaching of subjects to prepare students for office jobs that did not exist. The population of Tonga in 1966 was 77,585 which
had increased by 20,000 in the last ten years.
Tonga is a constitutional monarchy. There is a Privy Council and Cabinet. The Cabinet Ministers are all Tongan. The legislative assembly, which meets once a year, is comprised of seven nobles representing the 33 nobles of Tonga, the seven people-elected representatives, the Ministers of the Crown and the Governors of Ha'apai and Vavau.
Tonga's principal exports are copra and bananas. At present the country is endeavouring to develop its own fishing industry and it has a shipping business with its own fleet of three ships.
But the problem I see with Tonga, which is situated so close to New Zealand, is that there is a greatlv increasing population without any prospect of other than scratching a very meagre existence from the soil in an over-populated country.
This is by far the most advanced island area in the Pacific. The total land area is
THE NZBC PROUDLY PRESENTS …
the return of an international favourite
NEW ZEALAND'S GREAT BASS SINGER
INIA TE WIATA
Series of September Concerts
WITH MAURICE TILL PIANO
AN EVENING WITH INIA TE WIATA
Great operatic arias, including favourites from The Barber of Seville, Don Giovanni, The Magic Flute and The Marriage of Figaro. Also well-known songs, including numbers from Chu Chin Chow, Negro Spirituals and Traditional Maori Songs.
The series begins at the
Dunedin Concert Chamber on 10 September
Concerts will follow at Napier, Wellington, Auckland and Hamilton.
Dates to be announced later.
Prices: 80c, $1.20, $1.60 (plus booking fee). Students and children half-price.
Watch your local papers and listen to the radio for more booking details.
7,055 square miles on almost 400 islands, many of them uninhabited.
The population on the outer islands is composed almost entirely of Fijians. Large numbers of Indians live on the two main islands which are Viti Levu and Vanua Levu.
For the year ended December 1967, Fiji's trade consisted of exports worth £20,678,000. while their imports were £28,143,000. The importation of food items is fairly considerable, being approximately £6,000,000 a year, the main items being bran, rice, flour, canned fish, milk products, meat and tea. Their economy is based on sugar, copra, timber and gold, with a few bananas.
I previously mentioned that the population now of Fiji is almost half a million, of whom half the number are Indians.
The sugar industry has been the basis of Fiji's economy for many years, but because of the reluctance of the native Fijians to work in the sugar fields, indentured labourers were brought from India for the work. Eventually some Indian women were also brought to Fiji. Although many
Indians accepted repatriation at the end of their indendture, manv stayed on and there are now more Indians in Fiji than Fijians. They have a share in Government but very small land rights as most of the land is still held under Fijian reservations.
A great problem therefore develops, as the Fijian has the land, the Indians are the commercial people and the small farmers supply the large percentage of sugar cane. The Indian, however, seems to be patiently, and sometimes impatiently, exerting his claims to land and has created a situation which is almost incapable of solution.
However, Fiji has industry. It has a substantial trade and has much more opportunity of existing in a state of independence than its other Pacific neighbours.
To summarize, the populations of the islands close to New Zealand were, in 1966—
Their trade in 1966 amounted to exports £23,000,000; their imports £34,500,000.
There are many difficulties concerning these islands close to New Zealand. One of the two main problems is that of land tenure, operating on a different system in each of the various groups but certainly not on a basis whereby progressive agriculturalists can acquire land for development. Land is generally held in either reservations or family groups, and under these systems, agricultural progress is extremely limited. The other problem is that of the rapidly increasing population receiving more education but finding few avenues of employment. A temporary palliative to this problem has been emigration to New Zealand but this is not a realistic solution to the problem, as the people in the islands should be encouraged to remain in those islands and to develop their own land and resources. In my own opinion in the various islands there is too much emphasis on an academic education. Clerks are ‘ten a penny’ but a plumber is unobtainable.
Our assistance to these islands should be on the line of the establishment of trade training or technical schools rather than the persistent development of academic schooling.
Secondly, manufacturers could consider the extension of their manufacturing industries into those countries where large labour pools exist. Island people can become good tradesmen—they are extremely adaptable. It is most interesting indeed to note that the small islands of the Pacific produce Wellington bus drivers. It is difficult enough for a Wellington resident to find his own way around through the traffic in Wellington, but when one considers that a man from a very remote island can arive in New Zealand and in a very short space of time become a driver through Wellington streets, it shows just how adaptable the people are.
We should also provide free access to the New Zealand market for these islands for all the commodities that they grow or produce.
New Zealand is still the centre of Polynesia and must have a continued close relationship with the people of the various Pacific Islands.
Again, I do not claim in any way to be an expert in Pacific Island Affairs, but speak entirely as an observer.
able to assist Pacific Islanders with outstanding aptitude for historical work, to pursue post-graduate studies in Pacific history.
Enquiries, suggestions and donations would be welcomed.
K. S. Inglis,
Department of History,
University of Papua and New Guinea,
P.O. Box 1144,
Port Moresby, New Guinea.
YOUNGER READERS' SECTION
We are pleased to publish our first contribution in Maori, a description of the opening of Te Aute College's new swimming baths, by Sydney Melbourne of Ruatoki, who writes in the Tuhoe dialect.
Te Rā whakatuwhera
o te Puna kaukau hou
o Te Kāreti o Te Aute
nā Sydney Melbourne
Ara ake te rā o te Paraire, te rā tuatahi o te marama o Mei, ā, a te rangi o te Hātarei te rā tuarua o Mei te rā nui.
Ko te rā o taua Paraire rā te rangi whakarerireri i ngā hāpi* ngā tū āhua kai, ā, whakataetaetae hoki, i te Kāreti kia pai ake te āhua. Nā tēnei whakarerireri ka kore he mahi kura; tino koa katoa ngā tāhae o Te Aute, pakari ana rātau ki te mahi kei whakahokia rātau ki roto i te whare kura, kāore kē rātau e ngenge i taua mahi rā i waho.
Tae mai rawa ake te ahiahi, kua oti katoa ngā mahi, kua reri ngā hāpi, kua mahia ngā rīwai, ngā kumara, kua tapatapahia ngā paukena, ā, kua taea he kai moana arā he pāua, kua oti te mahi i ngā mīti, paipai ana hoki te Kāreti ki te kanohi. Nā ngā tama noa iho o te Aute me ētahi kura māhita i mahi katoa aua mahi rā; kāore he mea i hōhā, ahakoa te uaua.
ā, ka tō te rā, kua mahi, kua whakareri i tērā taha o te āhua Māori, te pōwhiri. I tēnei wā ka mahia te whakatikatika i ngā pōwhiri, ngā haka me ngā waiataā-ringa, ā, kia tika rānō ka mutu; ka hoki ki te moe kia mahea ai mō āpōpō.
Ao ake te rangi nui rā, ātaahua ana hoki te rangi. A ka kite ka are rā te rangi a te poupoutanga o te rā.
I taua ata rā tata atu i te tekau karaka, ka pōwhiritia e mātau ngā tama o mua kua kuraina nei i Te Aute Kāreti, me ō rātau hoa wahine hoki, i haere mai nei ki te whakatuwheratanga o te puna hou rā, ā, i haere mai anō hoki ki tā rātau hui kotahitanga ki te tautoko take o te Kāreti me ētahi atu take o te Kāreti.
I muri mai i taua pōwhiri rā, ka haere mātau ko ētahi atu tama ki te whakatakoto i ngā hāpi. Kua tahuna noa atu hoki ngā hāpi rā, ā, nā te wera o te rangi, ā, me te kaha hoki o te wera o ngā hāpi, heke ana ngā werawera o ngā kaimahi. Kātahi, ā, ka mutu te tango i ngā pangawera, ka whakatikatika i te takoto i ngā kohatu, ka roreroretia ngā mīti. A, utaina atu ngā mīti, ngā kai hoki, ā, kōutuutuhia atu he wai ki runga i ngā kai me ngā kōhatu, hihī ana te wai, pēnei tonu i te ngāwhā nei te āhua a taua hāpi. I te wā e hihī tonu ana te wai, ka uwhia atu ngā pēke, ā, ka taupoki te hāpi ki te oneone. E toru ngā hāpi. Oti pai ana tērā mahi, ko te tatari kia maoa ngā kai ināianei.
Kua tīwaha te reo, ‘Haere mai ki te kai, kua hora ngā pereti.’
Kakara ana te hau i te hāngi. Mākūkū ana ngā korokoro me ngā waha hoki. Mōmona ana te kai a ētahi a ngā tama o te Aute, te kai tuatahi pea mai i te kāinga rānō te kai whakamutunga Māori, mitimitia ana ngā poroiwi, ngā pereti me ngā ringaringa atu hoki. Ora katoa.
I te hāora o te rua o taua ahiahi rā, kua huihui mai ngā manuhiri upoko, arā te Pīhopa o Niu Tīreni, a Lesser, me tana hoa wahine, a Tā Turi Kara, me ngā mema hoki o te Poari o Te Aute me ā rātau wāhine hoki. Ka eke mai ngā manuhiri ki runga o te marae o Te Aute, ka tīwaha whāmataku ana te haka pōwhiri:
Mutu pū ana ngā pōwhiri, ka mihi te ‘Head Prefect’ o te Kāreti, a Edward Moses, ki ngā manuhiri.
Ka ū mai te wā whakatuwheratanga o te puna kaukau, ā, huihui katoa te tokomaha ki te puna.
Tuatahi ki te kōrero, ko te Tumuaki o Te Aute, ko Noel Vickridge. Ka whakaatu
i tōna koa kua oti te puna. Ka mihi hoki ki ērā tāngata mō ā rātau koha mō taua puna, i taea ai te hanga te puna; ka mihi hoki ki ngā tohunga i hanga rā i taua puna. Kei te wawata tonu hoki ētahi atu koha hei whakaea i taua puna rā, ā, hei hanga hoki i ētahi atu mea mō te puna; arā, he nohanga, he wāhi waiho hoki i ngā kākahu i ngā taha o te puna.
I muri mai i te Tumuaki, ka tū ko te Hekeretari o te Poari o Te Aute Kāreti, ki te whakaatu mai i ngā moni kua kohia, ā, e iwa mano taara kua taea, ā, ko te taumata e whāia ana, e whā tekau mano taara. Ka whakaatu hoki ki te koha a te Kāwanatanga, ā, ka mihi ki ērā katoa i hōmai moni mō taua puna.
I muri mai i tēnei kōrero, ka waiatatia he hīmene, whai mai ko tētahi karakia nā te Pīhopa i whakahaere.
Kātahi ka kōrero ko Tā Turi Kara, i kuraina anō hoki i Te Aute. I kī a ia tana kaha koa kua oti taua taonga nui nei mō ngā tāhae o Te Aute. I ōna wā, kaukau noa iho ai rātau i tētahi puna i te awa paku nei i tata tonu ki te Kāreti. I kaukau anō hoki au ki taua puna, a, he pai ake tērā. I kī anō hoki a Turi he wāhanga noa iho tēnei mō te whakanuitanga i te Kāreti o Te Aute. A, nā tēnei o ō mātau kaumātua i whakatuwhera te puna. Te mutunga o āna kupu, ka kau ngā toa kaukau o Te Aute, a, haka katoa ngā tama o te kura.
Te koa o ngā tama o te kura ka tirikoha ki roto o te puna.
Kua oti te rā, kua mutu ngā mahi mō tau rā, ā, kua tīmata anō ngā mahi mātauranga, te pūtake o Te Aute, ēngari te hōhā hoki.
We are pleased to have our first contribution from Panguru High School.
Our Living Dead
They have gone into the world of darkness
Where no light shall pierce its way
Where no troubles shall enter within it
Where they shall rest in eternal peace;
They are our ancestors, our beloved ones,
Who left this light, this living, this world.
In life they were so dear to us
They were our living strength
Now they have gone from us forever
Now they have turned from us to death;
They left us behind in sadness,
To remember them in our hearts.
We mourned for them at their sorrowful parting
Our tears soaked the soil beneath us
For our hearts were heavy with grief
For our hearts were deepened with sorrow;
Yet still they remain in our memories,
For eternal and forever in life.
Farewell O friends, dear ancestors
Your memories shall forever linger.
Isabelle Terehia Te Wake, Form V
Now a story from a 5th Form Northland College pupil.
Visitors, I dislike! I mean, I do not dislike them personally but I hate the embarrassing moments they bring upon me.
There is one visitor in particular whom I dislike. That is, my Aunt Kiri.
Every Sunday Aunt Kiri comes plodding down that dusty road in her big, bare feet, with an old kit of home-made bread and bottled jam tucked under her arm.
I see her coming and I dash into my room and hide under my wooden bed.
Then, I hear that familiar knock. My father hobbles to the door and opens it. The two old devils, so happy to see each other hug and embrace in the Maori custom. Then my Aunt tosses her thick, twisted mane of jet black hair over her massive shoulders and shouts, ‘Raymond, my little baby. Where are you hiding this time?’
Oh, how I hate these childish things my auntie calls me. It irritates me so much being called a baby, especially when I'm sixteen years old.
My Aunt Kiri and ‘Papa’ then go into the kitchen and sit on the boxes around the
GOING TO WELLINGTON?
THEN WORK FOR THE WELLINGTON HOSPITAL BOARD IN ONE OF ITS MANY HOSPITALS
There is work as:—
FULL BOARD AND ACCOMMODATION £2/8/9 ($4.88) A WEEK
The Recruitment Officer, Wellington Hospital
old wooden table, and babble away in their native tongue. They enjoy themselves while I'm crouched under my stuffy bed. Oh, I could nearly cry with humiliation.
Then, my aunt does a most terrible thing to me. Knowing that I love home-made bread and jam she pulls out a lovely brown loaf from her flax kit and shouts, ‘Raymond, baby! Haeremai te paraoa!’
Too hungry to resist the temptation I shamefully crawl from under my bed and walk shyly into the smoke-filled kitchen, covering the holes in the seat of my pants with my hands. My auntie places a thick piece of bread covered with a thick layer of jam into my eager hands. She then sits me on her big, stumpy thighs and holds me against her hunge bosoms and whispers in my ear,
‘You like my bread, Raymond, my baby?’ …
Oh, how I hate visitors.
Raymond Murray, Whangaruru.
Pupils of Ratana Maori School have also sent in their first contributions.
Dirt flies everywhere
We strike the sacks
We pull them off
The smell of the hangi shoots
up our noses—
A beautiful aroma.
Jimmy Berry, 10
When the sea is calm it is still,
But when the wind blows it is still no more.
When the sea is rough you can hear it
crashing against the rocks.
And then the sea is silent again,
It is calm and still.
Sandra Tamou, 10
Someone is dead, and it is someone very important.
People here, people there, crying their eyes out for this person.
He was so kind and gentle, he was famous until his death.
Everybody has to die some day.
Monday the third of June was his day to die.
The band is playing for him, he was a member of the band.
We played for this wonderful person.
Lisa Tamati, 10
It is quiet,
Birds do not chirp,
Animals are still,
Big black huge ones,
Suddenly the lightning crackles,
The thunder roars,
A storm is born.
Jimmy Berry, 10
Murmuring cries of the Kuias swaying back and forth.
The minister is delivering his oration, a great man has died.
His grandma brought him up with her love and comfort.
A calm old lady.
Her cries can be heard as she sways to and fro.
The school children are quiet and tired, not a sound is to be heard from them.
Men and women from the Education Board have come to this sad event.
They have lost a friend.
People say he was a man with a wide friendly grin and a welcoming handshake.
His grandma will miss him and so will many others.
Kathleen Luke, 12
I remember when I was a little boy aged six. My friend Simon and I had lots of fun. He had a truck and so did I. At times we
used to fight over our toys but we were still good friends. What we liked best was to play in the water. We would take off our shoes and pull up our pants and run through the water not caring if we got wet. We did have lots of fun when we were little.
Michael Taiaroa, 12
The sounds have gone to bed
And silence has just awoken from sleep.
Harry Docherty, 11
Calm swaying towards the shore.
Small waves forming, swelling, growing bigger.
White horses appear breaking upon the shore,
Spray flies in all directions,
Children laugh and tumble.
Debbie Gardiner, 12
The Departing of the Casket
The wailing of the elder ladies echoes backwards and forwards,
The sound bouncing off the walls of the almost rotten boards of the old meeting house.
The uneasy murmur of the mourners can be heard.
The wailing again by the elder kuia of the family brings sadness to the heart.
I feel I want to cry but I'm too scared with the little kids around.
Bitterness, crying, tears, the wailing is very sorrowful, it brings tears of sympathy to the onloookers' eyes.
His death is a loss to the community, it is felt in the hearts of his family and especially his parents.
Pallbearers bow their heads to show respect to the family and the dead one.
Like soldiers they have their duty to perform.
They place the lid on the casket, screw it firmly, lift gently, walk so very slowly.
Miria Mako, 13
Te Aute College boys are helping to support Maahi Tukapua, an old boy of the school, who is teaching with Volunteer Service Aboard in a village school in Tonga. The boys have been fruit-picking and undertaking other tasks to help Maahi with reading books and even the supply of writing materials.
A large group of Rotarians who met at the school in April are planning, together with a Rotary Exchange group from Wisconsin, to help Maahi—probably by the purchase of a tropicalised tape recorder.
Robin Kora, who is in Oklahoma on an American Field Service Scholarship, writes that the sheer pace of American life never ceases to amaze him, and that he is looking forward to getting back to New Zealand and ‘trying to get some perspective on the American scene’. He has become interested in the management side of orchestral work—help with organising the sale of tickets and ushering.
The John Waititi Memorial Trophy was, in its first year of presentation, won jointly by Thomas Ellis of Napier Boys' High School and John Delamere of Tauranga Boys' College, and will be on display for six months at each college.
The traditionally carved trophy, sponsored by New Zealand Breweries Limited, is to be presented annually to the Maori pupil gaining most marks in four subjects in the School Certificate examination.
Mr Waka Nathan, well-known All Black, made the presentation to the boys.
FIRST LESSONS IN MAORI
MAORI LIFE AND CUSTOM
Musings, reminiscences and preambles have really no place in a book review; however, when one of the books is an old friend not only of mine, but of at least four generations of teachers and students, and the other is a new book written by an old friend, perhaps I may be forgiven a brief backward look. I may perhaps also be forgiven for looking at these two books from the teacher's point of view rather than from that of the general reader.
To open the first of the books was to realise with a sense of shock and something of dismay that the first students to endure my early ‘grammar-translation’ methods are now grandfathers and grandmothers, whose mokopuna, if they are being taught Maori, will be taught by very different methods. Their teachers will be using the most modern techniques of language teaching and the students will have interesting and enjoyable modern textbooks to use.
At the time I speak of, however, the Department of Education's reversal of its policy of active suppression of Maori was just beginning to take effect and teachers of Maori were the Cinderellas among language teachers. They had the Department's blessing, keen classes of mainly native-speaking students and an examination prescription—very little else, except their own enthusiasm and energy. If they did have a few books as teaching aids, one of them would almost certainly have been Williams' ‘First Lessons in Maori’, known familiarly as ‘Williams’ Grammar'. Many of them would have come to know it, as I did, almost by heart.
Although the last ten years or so have seen a very rapidly growing interest in Maori, a great improvement in teaching techniques and an increasing number of modern textbooks, this Grammar, in spite of certain weaknesses and omissions, is still the most valuable book of its kind for those interested in the structure of the language. All teachers should own and study it for, apart from the modern works of such trained linguists as Dr Bruce Biggs, Dr Pat Hohepa and J. Prytz Johansen, no subsequent grammar book of this type has added anything of significance to this pioneering work; these modern linguists would undoubtedly each acknowledge his debt to ‘First Lessons’ as a major reference.
This is the 13th edition since its first printing in 1862. The 11th edition, revised by the late W. W. Bird, brought in a few changes in terminology and some in the Scheme of the Verb, but ‘First Lessons’ has remained essentially unchanged since its first printing. In none of the revisions have the original omissions and weaknesses been entirely remedied, and the latest edition introduces some misprints not present in previous editions. The opportunity to amend the section dealing with the possessives of three singular personal pronouns has not been taken. The third or ‘neutral’. form is given only for the 2nd person, but it is erroneously stated that ‘sometimes tō and ō are used for tāu and āu. These should be tō and ō, and ‘sometimes’ is quite inadequate as an indication of the importance of the third form, or of the frequency with which it is used.
The Foreword tells us that ‘the major change (in the 13th edition) is in the addition of macrons to indicate the length of vowel sounds’. It is a great pity that what should have been a valuable addition has turned out to be largely a disaster. The need for some system of marking vowel length is now generally acknowledged, and in textbooks and bulletins in Maori issued by the Department of Education, as well as in other publications, vowel length is now being consistently marked. Whatever the system of marking, it must be consistent; if it is unreliable it can be more of a hazard than a help to students.
Unfortunately, the use of the macron is so inconsistent throughout this book that it completely fails in its purpose. The word apopo, for instance is given three different spellings. Perhaps the most serious
errors occur among the possessives of personal pronouns, already complicated enough for the student; for example, we have nāu (yours) spelt variously nau, nāu, nāū and naū—all possible permutations. It might have been better to delay this change in the book until someone competent in this work could undertake it.
The second book is ‘Maori Life and Custom’ by the late W. J. Phillipps. This is indeed a welcome addition to the teacher's library.
The study of Maori culture and tradition is part of every New Zealand school child's Social Studies programme and is also a special part of the syllabus for those studying the Maori language. It has always been a difficult and laborious task for the teacher to collect and supply suitable material for pupils to study. Much of the material was in books now out of print, or to be found only in libraries or museums; when collected, it had to be presented in a form suitable for the pupils. It is little wonder that, in spite of the pupils' interest, this part of the Social Studies programme tended to be rather sketchily treated.
Now, for the first time, we have a book that gives a comprehensive picture of all aspects of the life of the Maori of old; it covers traditions, social usage, food, shelter and clothing, artefacts, decorative arts and songs and pastimes. There is also a chapter on language contributed by Mr Jock McEwen.
Mr Phillipps spent a lifetime in painstaking research and study; much of the research work was done out in the field and involved patient personal observation, making contact and establishing good relations with informants, and the scrupulous recording of material collected. The result of this lifetime study is an impressive output of scholarly works on various aspects of Maori culture, particularly carving and carved houses. The present work is his latest and, unfortunately, his last.
I know that Mr Phillipps, always meticulous in detail and much concerned with accurate recording, had already planned to revise his text, so some of the remarks I
Winter is time for heaters and fires; and increased fire risks! 70% of all burns to young children are caused by touching unguarded fires or by clothing catching alight.
IN YOUR HOUSE BE SURE:
All fires and heaters are guarded.
That all members of the household understand how inflammable most clothing is.
That special attention is taken to protect a child in a long nightie.
If clothing catches alight wrap the person quickly in a hearthrug or something similar.
ISSUED BY THE N.Z. DEPARTMENT OF HEALTH.
make will concern things already noted by him for alteration and amendment.
The book is well produced and the format pleasing, if rather uninspired. The abundant illustrations are line drawings, mainly in diagrammatic form, clear and concise and well-placed to supplement the text.
There are more misprints than one would have expected to find, especially in names of people; I have no doubt the author had already noted these for his proposed second edition.
Mr Phillipps did not follow the convention of using italic type for Maori words and phrases, probably for well-considered reasons, but this I consider was an unfortunate decision. The use of italic, particularly in the captions for illustrations, would have been an improvement. It can often require a second look to sort out the Maori from the English, as in: ‘One such knot is still used by the elderly people of Te Kuiti where it is termed here taniwha’, Confusion would have been avoided with the phrase ‘here taniwha’ in italic.
There is inconsistency also in the writing of Maori words, especially in the use of hyphens. We have, for example, both tara tara o kai and taratara o kai; I would have preferred taratara-o-kai.
Some of Mr Phillipps' informants have not served him well, for, in some of the quoted phrases and chants the Maori is obviously incorrect.
However, these are minor flaws in an otherwise excellent book, at least one copy of which should be in every school in New Zealand.
I should like to close this brief review with my personal tribute to the author to whose influence I owe much. To have watched him at work in the field was an inspiration and a privilege. Those of us who trained at Wellington Teachers' College and were fortunate enough to enjoy ‘sections’ with Mr Phillipps at the Dominion Museum must have left there more than ordinarily well-equipped to bring knowledge, life and enthusiasm to the teaching of what is so often treated as ‘dead’ material. He was an inspiration to all of us. He was a gentle man and a happy man.
Haere, e koro, haere ki tō okiokinga.
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. 11 in. × 9 in. — 253 pages.
Eight pages colour plates.
More than 100 photographs.
63s. Od. (S6.30)
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. Od. ($1.50)
Available from all Booksellers
A. H. & A. W. REEDWellington — Auckland — Sydney
Crossword Number 60
|6.||Belonging to, from (2)|
|7.||Lo! Behold! (5)|
|10.||Avenged, paid for (2)|
|13.||Gape, be open; be consumed (4)|
|20.||Lift up (5)|
|23.||Woman's brother in law (6)|
|24.||Strike; fortified village (2)|
|32.||White clay (7)|
|33.||There was; there is; beget (2)|
|36.||The following day (5)|
|37.||Large green parrot (3)|
|38.||Which ones? (4)|
|40.||Wipe up, rinse, float (6)|
|46.||Old, ancient; knowing, understanding (5)|
|49.||Supreme being (2)|
|52.||Coast, tide (3)|
|55.||He, she; current (2)|
|57.||Fault, wrong (2)|
|1.||Deceive, cheat, beguile (9)|
|12.||By, belonging to (2)|
|14.||Sideboards of canoe (2)|
|15.||Sit, stay, live (4)|
|17.||Eye, face (6)|
|19.||Bare, naked (7)|
|21.||For, white (2)|
|24.||Bark, peelings, skin; proverb (4)|
|26.||Ice, frost (8)|
|29.||Belonging to; stamp (2)|
|30.||Gently, slowly, carefully (3)|
|34.||Day; Sun (2)|
|35.||Company of slaves or workmen; if; fold, layer (3)|
|37.||Climbing plant used in tukutuku work (6)|
|40.||Beach, soil (6)|
|41.||Fault, sin (4)|
|42.||Like that (4)|
|43.||I, me (2)|
|45.||Horizon, edge, perch (3)|
|48.||Flower, seed (6)|
|50.||Your, belonging to you (pl.) (2)|
|52.||Your, drag (2)|
|54.||Good, like (3)|
|56.||Root of tree (7)|
|58.||Calm; moon on 8th day (3)|
Get CHALLENGE to quote for special mixtures to your own specifications
FOR FREE ADVICE from Challenge's qualified Technical Field Officers simply contact us through your normal supplier.
GRANULATED — at no extra cost to the farmer — Challenge fertilizers are free-flowing, spread better and faster from both ground or air. We supply top quality standard fertilizers and special mixtures for all purposes at the best prices.
The N.Z. Farmers Fertilizer Co. Ltd., Te
Papapa — Otahuhu — New. Plymouth
Kiwi Fertilizer Co. Ltd.— Morrinsville.
The Northland Fertilizer Co. Ltd.— Whangarel.