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No. 67 (July 1969)
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Te Ao Hou
THE MAORI MAGAZINE

The Department of Maori and Islands Affairs July–August 1969

A large proportion of this issue is occupied by the account in both Maori and English of the visit to America by ten Maoris on a ‘Ford Foundation Exchange’. These two young men, here looking at mounted heads in the Anthropology Department of the University of Mexico, are the youngest members of the party, Vernon Winitana and George Asher.

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

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back issues (N.Z. rates): Issue Nos. 31–32, 34–37, and 39–66 are available at 25c each. A very few copies of issue Nos. 13, 18–23, 25, 27–30, 33 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

Number 67 July–August 1969

stories page
I Remember, Kanarahi Mio 22
Huria's Rock, Patricia Grace 23
poetry
The Highway, Marie Andersen 24
The Asylum of Darkness, J Hukatai 55
articles
He Whakawhitiwhitinga Nā Te Ford Foundation, Hohepa Taepa 4
Human Rights Year 21
Chief Judge Retires 25
Maoris and Technical Education, Noel Harrison 26
Telford Farm Training Institute 28
Rapaki Church Centennial 32
New Dining Hall at Wairoa 35
Maori Language in New Zealand Schools, F. G. B. Keen 48
Waitangi, 1969 51
In Support of the All Black's Tour, Eve Magee 54
Hawke's Bay Secondary Schools Maori Conference 56
features
Haere Ki O Koutou Tipuna 2
Letters 3
People and Places 36
Records 57
Books 58
Crossword 64

the minister of maori affairs: The Hon. J. R. Hanan.

editor: Joy Stevenson.

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

front cover: This picture of Rapaki Church was taken before the ribbon wood tree (houi) planted at the time the church was opened, lost its remaining branches in a storm. The church bell used to hang from a lower branch. Only a stump now remains, and the bell is fixed near the church door.

National Publicity Studios

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HAERE KI O
KOUTOU TIPUNA

Rangatahi Hakaraia

Maori woman welfare officer at Taumarunui for the past six years, Mrs Rangatahi Hakaraia died suddenly while on a visit to her mother of Te Puke for Easter. A tangi was held at Ngapuaiwaha pa, Taumarunui and the burial took place at a family cemetery at Manunui.

Mrs Hakaraia was connected on her mother's side with leading families of the Ngati Hauaroa tribe. Through her maternal grandfather she was associated with the Ngati Uenuku tribe of the Ohakune-Raetihi area. She was a direct descendant of Topia Turoa, a high chief of the Whanganui River tribes, who was one of the chiefs originally nominated for the Maori kingship. Turoa, who also had affiliations with the Ngati Tuwharetoa tribe, deferred in favour of another nominee, Te Heu Heu of Ngati Tuwharetoa.

On her father's side, Mrs Hakaraia was connected to the well known Metekingi family of Whanganui. Her great grandfather was an officer in charge of the friendly Maoris who fought against the Hau Hau at the battle of Moutoa Island.

Her late father, Paki Metekingi, was an officer in the Maori Pioneer Battalion in World War One.

Taylor Love

Mr Taylor Avarua Love, died in February, aged 47. For the past four years he had been deputy registrar of the Maori Land Court in the Department of Maori and Island Affairs' Whangarei office, and had become well-known to the people of Northland.

Born in Wellington, he began his public service career there, joining the Native Department in 1940. The same year he joined the Maori Battalion, and served overseas with the 2nd N.Z.E.F. After five years in the army, he returned to his work with the department. In 1957, he was acting private secretary to the Minister of Maori Affairs.

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He went to Whangarei on promotion in 1965, and his ability marked him as a man who would have advanced further in his public service career.

Mr Love's body was laid in state at the Whangarei Maori Community Centre, before being flown to Petone, Wellington for burial in the family cemetery. He is survived by his wife, eight children and one grandchild.

Bill Waterhouse

Flight Lieutenant W. A. Waterhouse, the RNZAF's only Maori helicopter pilot, was killed when his helicopter crashed near Canberra, Australia, in January. He was on his way to South Vietnam, one of four New Zealand pilots chosen to serve for 12 months with the RAAF.

Flight Lieutenant Waterhouse was born in Hastings and educated at Hastings Boys' High School. He learnt to fly as a civilian with the Hawke's Bay and East Coast Aero Club, and joined the RNZAF in 1963, serving with No. 5 Squadron in Sunderland flying boats. In 1967 he joined No. 3 Squadron for helicopter training, and was serving with the helicopter support flight at Hobsonville when selected to go to South Vietnam. He was 25 years old.

LETTERS

The Editor,
“Te Ao Hou”

Dear Madam,

In the letters section of Te Ao Hou number 65, Mr Rowley Habib expounds a thesis which I feel compelled to challenge. He seems to be saying that no work of art dealing with a specific social or ethnic group can have validity unless it is the work of a member of that group itself. Furthermore, he expresses “a certain amount of contempt” for any non-Maori who has the temerity to tread what he calls, “the sacred ground of my people”.

The implications of such a point of view are awesome. By extension of Mr Habib's thesis it now becomes clear that nobody but a Pakeha can write about Pakehas, nobody but a Negro can write about Negroes, nobody but an Easter Islander can write about Easter Island, and so on. And the word “can” above has its two senses, namely (a) is able to, and (b) has the right to (Mr Habib's words are “legitimately suited to”). Thus Mr Habib demolishes a major portion of existing world art and literature (that very large part of it which is “extra-ethnic”) and goes a good deal along the way to making all art impossible, since it is precisely a sensitiveness and perspicuity to other people in other situations which is the basic credential of an artist.

By implication also, the non-Maori ethnologist and anthropologist can go home, as he too is outside the huge glass enclosure and will also miss “those little subtleties” Mr Habib writes about.

Nobody will contest that an artist who bases his work on his experience of his own people has a considerable advantage and by and large ought to do a better job than an outsider working in the same field. At the same time the work of such an artist can and often does fail precisely because of his proximity to his source. His vision is often too myopic and his outlook too parochial to enable him to treat his subject with the generosity of mind which is the mark of good art.

As a Pakeha, I have absolutely no objection if Mr Habib ever decides to write about me; in fact I would be very interested in any fresh vision he could bring to the enterprise. And conversely I reserve the right, should I ever feel like doing so, to write about him.

Yours sincerely,


Barry Jackson

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He Whakawhitiwhitinga

Nā Te Ford Foundation

Nō te marama o Tīhema 1968, ka puta ngā pōwhiri a te Wāhanga Mō Ngā Take Whānui, o te Whakakaupaparanga e mōhiotia nei ko te Ford Foundation. He kaupaparanga nā te whānau rongonui o ngā Ford, mahi motokā hoki, arā, te Ford Motors o Āmerika, nā taua whānau te waihangatanga mai o taua pūtea nui rawa atu. Te whare o ngā Tari o taua Kaupaparanga, e hia ake ngā whakapaparanga te teitei, aua atu ana ki runga, kei New York tōna tūranga, he tāone rongonui puta noa i ngā tōpito o te ao, he tāone nui whakaharahara, he tāone nui ōna rerekētanga, ōna kino, ōna pai.

Nā te Ford Foundation, ka taea te whakawhitiwhitinga o tētahi rōpū Māori taki ngahuru o Aotearoa, me tētahi rōpu Kiriwhero o Āmerika, tokoiwa, ki te torotoro, ki te whakawhanawhanaunga, ki te whakawhitiwhiti whakaaro.

Tēnei mahi, tēnei whakaaro, i pupū ake i te whatumanawa o tētahi wahine nō Āmerika, he tumuaki tonu o te Kaupaparanga i kōrerotia ake nei, arā, o te Ford Foundation. Ko te ingoa o te wahine nei ko Siobhan Oppenheimer, he taitamariki tonu, he ātaahua, he tohunga hoki ki tāna mahi. Nāna ka tupu ake te whakaaro nei kia haere atu ētahi Māori, kia whakawhiti mai ētahi Kiriwhero o Āmerika, i tana whakaaro, he maha tonu ngā āhuatanga tūriterite o tātou o te Māori me o tērā o te Kiriwhero o Āmerika. Koinei ka waimarie mātou i tā mātou haere ki rāwāhi, ki te mātakitaki whenua, ki te tūhonohono i te Māori me tērā iwi, kia kite atu ai, kia kite mai ai; kia mōhio atu ai, kia mōhio mai ai; kōrero tahi ai i runga i te nohoanga a te taina, a te tuakana.

Ko te hunga i waimarie ki tēnei haere ko Hēnare Northcroft, he Āpiha o te Tari Māori Toko i te Ora, ki Rotorua; ko Lewis Moeau, Kaikaute o te Tari Māori ki Tūranganui;

 

The Ford Foundation Exchange

In December 1968, invitations arrived from the Division of National Affairs, of the Foundation called the Ford Foundation. The Foundation was the creation of the world-famous Ford family, manufacturers of motor cars, known as Ford Motors of America. The building that houses the offices of the Foundation, comprising many storeys, reaching many feet up, is situated in the world-famous city of New York, a city of tremendous dimensions, at the same time a city of countless contradictions.

It was this Ford Foundation that made possible the exchange of a group of ten Maoris from the North Island of New Zealand, with an American Indian group of nine, from the several States of America, to visit, on a goodwill tour, one another's peoples, and exchange ideas.

The programme and idea were conceived by a young American mother, a programme executive of the Foundation mentioned above. Our hostess from the Ford Foundation, the inspiration of the exchange, was Mrs Siobhan Oppenheimer, a beautiful young lady, efficient, and a real tohunga in her particular field of planning and programming. She promoted the reciprocal scheme, that some Maoris should visit America, and that some American Red Indians should come to New Zealand, because of her conviction that these two peoples possessed many similarities, and differences also. Hence our good fortune to go abroad, there to see the land, to meet one another, to see and be seen, to know and be known, to discuss on a basis of good fellowship and brotherhood.

Those who were fortunate to go abroad were, Henry Northcroft, Welfare Executive Officer of the Maori Affairs Department at Rotorua; Lewis Moeau, accountant, of the Department of Maori Affairs at Gisborne;

 
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ko Apanui Wātene, Āpiha Toko i te Ora mō te Gear Works ki Pitoone; ko Timoti Nikora, he Kaikaute o te Tari Tāke Māngai ki Pōneke; ko Robert Mahuta, taungāne o Kuini Te Atairangikaahu, he tohunga nō te Whare Wānanga o Ākarana; ko Tūroa Royal, Āpiha Ako o te Tari mō te Taha Māori, i Ākarana; ko Vernon Winitana, o te Haikura o Hutt Valley ki Lower Hutt; ko Hori Asher, o Tīpene o Bombay ki Pukekohe; ko Tame Hāwea, minita Perehepitiriana o Kawerau; ko Hōhepa Taepa, minita o te Pāriha Māori o Pōneke.

I te pō o te Tūrei, 11 Pepuere, 1969, ka whakawhāiti atu mātou tokowaru; kei Ākarana kē hoki a Tūroa Royal rāua ko Robert Mahuta e tatari mai ana, ka whakawhāiti atu mātou ki tō Kara Puketapu, tama a Ihāia Puketapu, kaumātua, koeke o Te Ātiawa, e noho mai rā i Waiwhetū. I tō Kara Puketapu, ka riro mai ō mātou tīkiti, ka tohutohua mai ki ngā āhuatanga o tā mātou haere, ki ngā nawe o tēnei tū poipoinga, ki ō mātou kaiārahi i rāwāhi, atu i tētahi roherohenga ki tētahi atu roherohenga, arā, ki ngā takiwā nohoanga o ngā iwi Inia kiriwhero, mai i te tonga-māuru i Los Angeles, anga atu ki te whenua o Arizona, mārō tonu ki New Mexico. I taua pō ka whakamārama a Kara Puketapu i ngā āhuatanga katoa o ngā whare e noho ai mātou, ngā whare kai, ngā waka mā runga, huarahi, mā runga manu-rere-ao, e tae ai ki mea wāhi, ki mea wāhi. He maha tonu hoki ā mātou patapatai ki a Kara Puketapu, arā, ko te āwangawanga mehemea tūpono ka wherū atu ki rāwāhi. Pai tonu te whakahokianga mai a Kara Puketapu, ko ngā raruraru katoa, he utainga katoa ērā ki runga ki te Kaupaparanga nāna nei te pōwhiri. Ka tau te whakaaro i ngā whakamārama mai.

Ao ake i te ata, i te tekau o ngā hāora o te Wenerei ki te marae ki Waiwhetū, ko Puketapu koeke tērā, ko Tioke Tāwhao, minita Perehepitiriana, ko Wiremu Pāka, ko Parāone Pūriri kei runga e poroporoaki ana i tō mātou tira, i roto i te tupuna whare e tū mai rā i Waiwhetū, i Arohanui-ki-te-Tangata. Ka mutu mai te tangatawhenua, ka tū atu ko Hēnare Northcroft, ko Lewis Moeau, ko Timoti Nikora ko Apanui Wātene ki te whakahoki i ngā poroaki. Ka mutu, heoi ka tatari, ā, kitea rawatia ake i te ono o ngā hāora o te ahiahi, ko tō mātou tira tokowaru, kei te tūnga manu-rere-ao

 
 

Timoti Nikora, accountant, Head Office of Inland Revenue and Income Tax Department in Wellington; Robert Mahuta, brother of Queen Te Atairangikaahu, and lecturer in Maori Studies at Auckland University; Apanui Watene, Welfare Officer of the Gear Works at Petone; Turoa Royal, Assistant Officer for Maori Education in Auckland; Vernon Winitana, of Hutt Valley High School, Lower Hutt; George Asher, of St Stephen's School, Pukekohe; Rev. Tom Hawea, of the Presbyterian Maori Mission at Kawerau; and Hohepa Taepa, pastor of the Maori Pastorate of Wellington.

On the night of Tuesday, 11 February, 1969, eight of us, for Turoa Royal and Robert Mahuta remained in Auckland to await our arrival, gathered at the residence of Mr Kara Puketapu, son of Ihaia Puketapu, the elder of Te Atiawa tribe dwelling at Waiwhetu. At Kara Puketapu's home, we received our tickets, and were briefed on the whys and wherefores of our journey, what pitfalls we should watch out for on such a trip, our guides overseas from one reservation to another, that is, the places where Red Indians were domiciled, from the south west at Los Angeles to the State of Arizona, and then straight on to the State of New Mexico. Kara Puketapu briefed us on the kind of accommodation to expect, the eating-places, and our modes of transport by road and by air from one place to another. We had many questions to ask of Kara Puketapu also. One that concerned us was hospitalisation overseas should we be taken ill abroad, to which Kara Puketapu answered satisfactorily that all medical attention would be met by the Foundation that extended the invitation. Our minds were put to rest after the explanations.

The next morning at ten o'clock on Wednesday we were gathered at the Waiwhetu marae, where our elder, Mr Ihaia Puketapu, also Rev. Tioke Tawhao, Mr William Parker and Mr Brownie Puriri were up and bidding our party farewell, in the ancestral meeting house at Waiwhetu, Arohanui-ki-te-Tangata. When the hosts had concluded their speeches, Henry Northcroft, Lewis Moeau, Timoti Nikora and Apanui Watene replied to the speeches of farewell. When this had ended, we waited for the hour of departure, and by 6 p.m. our party of eight

 
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i Rongotai, e whakaeke atu ana ki tō mātou waka, hei mau i a mātou ki Akarana. I te hāpāhi o te ono ka mānu atu, tau rawa atu ki Ākarana i te rua tekau mā waru meneti pāhi i te whitu. I reira ka puta ko Te Atairangikaahu, te Kuini Māori, ki te whakatau i a mātou. Ka mutu ngā mihi a āna kaumātua ki a mātou, ka whakatakotoria mai ā mātou taonga hei tukunga mā mātou ki ō mātou rangatira o te Ford Foundation. I ora ai mātou ki ā mātou niu wero, he mea āta whakairo, kāore ngā mea e rua i riterite, rerekē te tauira o tētahi i tō tētahi, kotahi mā tētahi, mā tētahi o mātou, i whai koha ai tēnei, tēnei, o mātou ki ō mātou rangatira ina tae ki New York. Tekau ngā niu nei, ngā rākau nei, hei tukunga mā mātou. Ka waimarie rā.

I te hāpāhi o te iwa i te pō, ka rere tō mātou manu, kāore i roa ka ngaro atu a Ākarana ki roto ki te pō, ā, tō mātou waka tērā e rere ana i te takiwā, e whitu māero ki runga, e rima rau māero i te hāora, ā, he whā tekau meneti anake anō e tairanga ana, ka paoho mai te reo o te kaiārahi i tō mātou manu, ko te tāima ki Niu Tīreni ināianei, ko te tekau meneti pāhi i te tekau, ā, ko te tāima ki Hawaii, ko te rua tekau mā waru meneti pāhi i te tekau mā rua i te ata o te Wenerei, kei mua kē hoki tātou i a Hawaii, i a Āmerika e haere ana.

E waru hāora e rere atu ana i te pō, ka tau mātou ki Hawaii i te koata ki te waru, i te ata o te Wenerei. Ka heke atu mātou, ka warea ki te mātakitaki haere, huri rawa ake kua riro kē tō mātou waka ki Los Angeles. Ka tīmata ētahi o mātou ki te amuamu, ki te whakapae, arā, nā te nohonga atu o tō mātou kaiārahi ki Los Angeles, tē kore ai e haere mai ki Hawaii whakataki ai i a mātou, koinei ka mahue mātou. Nā reira, ina tae atu ki Los Angeles me karawhiu te pōnaho nei, i tana whakaaro kore ko Hawaii te paepae o te takahanga waewae tapu ki runga oneone o Āmerika, arā, koinei te tomokanga atu ki Āmerika. Ko etahi anō o mātou kāhore kē i āwangawanga ake, pai rawa atu tēnei mahuenga, i āhua roa atu ai ki ngā takahanga o ō tātou tūpuna, ā, o muri rawa mai nei i a rātou, o Te Rangihīroa. Ko Oahu hoki te moutere nei, ā, ko Honolulu tōna tino tāone rongonui, o Hawaii, i takatakahia ai e rātou mā i neherā.

Tō mātou waka i rere atu ai, ko te Air New Zealand, ā, i Hawaii ka hoki whakatekāinga

 
 

was gathered at the Rongotai Airport, ready to board the plane that would take us to Auckland. At 6.30 p.m. our plane left, to land at Auckland at twenty minutes past seven. There, Te Atairangikaahu, the Maori Queen, arrived to greet us. At the conclusion of her elders' speeches, we were presented with gifts for us to present to our hosts of the Ford Foundation. We were fortunate in being provided with our presents of challenge batons, beautifully carved, no two alike, each with a different design, one for each of us, so that we severally had something worthwhile to present to our host on our arrival at New York. There were ten of these batons, to present. So we were fortunate indeed.

At 9.30 p.m. our flight left and in a short time Auckland disappeared into the dark of the night, and there was our plane flying through space, seven miles up, at five hundred miles an hour, and we were only forty minutes aloft when our pilot's voice gave us the New Zealand time as ten minutes past ten, whilst the time at Hawaii was twenty-eight minutes past twelve on Wednesday morning, for we were ahead of Hawaii and America.

We were eight hours in flight through the night, when we landed at Hawaii at quarter to eight on Wednesday morning. We deplaned and were so engrossed in sightseeing, that when we remembered, our plane had already left for Los Angeles. Some of us began grumbling, and saying the fault was that our agent had remained in Los Angeles, when he should have come to Hawaii to meet us, and so we had missed our plane. Therefore, we should not spare the worthless oaf, for not realising that Hawaii was the threshold for a first visit to American soil, that is, this was the gateway to America. Some of us needless to say were quite unconcerned, rather they were pleased that we had missed, so that they might have more time to tread on the soil their forbears had trodden, and where, much later, Sir Peter Buck, Te Rangihiroa, had also walked. This island was Oahu, and its capital was Honolulu, a city well known at one time as the stamping ground of the ancients of yore.

Our plane to Hawaii was Air New Zealand, and from there it turned for home

 
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mai. I te hāpāhi o te iwa ka piki atu mātou ki runga American United Airlines, ka mānu. Pērā anō te ikeike ake o tō mātou manu, e whitu māero ki runga, e rima rau māero i te hāora te horo takiwā. Koinei, e rima hāora anō e rere atu ana ka titiro tairanga iho mātou ki te tāone nui o te tonga-mā-uru o Āmerika, ki Los Angeles me ōna whare tini, whare mano, whare tiketike, aua ake ana ki runga. Ātaahua ana te titiro iho ki ōna huarahi e toro ana, me ngā tini motokā e kāwhaki ana, whakamataku ana anō te titiro iho, pēnei tonu me te mano pōpokorua e oma ana, e mahi ana, e nana ana kei mau i te tōnga o te rā. I te hāpāhi o te whā ka tau tō mātou waka.

Heke tonu iho mātou, ā, e tū mai ana te tangata nei, he Inia, hāwhe kaihe. Ko tōna taha Inia, he Tuscarora, wāhanga o ngā Iroquois. Nuku atu i te ono putu tana tū, ā, te tanginga mai o te reo, i te ngāwari hoki, wareware tonu ake i te Māori tana karawhiu atu, i te kite tonu atu i te hinengaro māhaki, i te wairua atawhai ki te tangata. Ko tōna ingoa ko Myron Jones. Kaha kē atu tana kiritea.

Heoi, kāhore i roa, ko ō mātou waka e rua e tū mai ana. Inā te nunui o aua motokā nei, ā, i reira tonu ka rongo mātou, koinei ō mātou waka hei haerenga te nuku o te whenua mō ngā wiki e toru.

Ka takia mātou ki tō mātou motēra me ōna whakapaparanga, aua ake ana ki runga te teitei. O tatou hōtēra papai o Niu Tīreni nei nā, kore ake he tātatanga ki ngā mōtēra o Āmerika, te nunui, te whānui tonu o ngā rūma me ngā pēti tāpara.

I reira ka kōrerohia mai e tō mātou rangatira, e Myron Jones, tokotoru o te tangata whenua tērā ka puta, ki te manaaki, ki te kawe i a mātou ki te whare kai. Kua āta pōuri anō, ka waea mai a Myron Jones i tōna rūma, kua tae mai te tangata whenua ki te whakatau.

Ko au, ko te Taepa, tētahi o ngā minita o tō mātou rōpū, i tae tōmuri atu. Tōku nei tomonga atu, tū whakakōhatu tonu mai te tangata whenua nei, i te ohorere. Kei ana ngutu kē hoki tana unu whakamāhanahana, ā, kāhore hoki i kōrerotia atu e ētahi o mātou he minita te Māori e tāria atu nei. Pērā anō hoki ana hoa tokorua. Ngā tāngata nei he Mehikana, he Mangumangu, he Pākehā. Koinei ngā tāngata tokotoru i tohia hei tangata whenua, hei manaaki i a mātou mō taua pō. Kore rawa i nekeneke, ā, nō

 
 

again. At half past nine we boarded an American United Airlines plane and were soon in flight. This plane likewise reached a ceiling of thirty-seven thousand feet, and sped along at five hundred miles an hour through the air. So, we were five hours aloft when we saw below us the huge town of southwestern America, Los Angeles, with its thousands upon thousands of buildings, its skycrapers, reaching to the sky. It was beautiful to watch from aloft the many highways stretching for miles, with speeding cars, awesome as we gazed down, thousands of ants rushing about, hard at work, lest they should be benighted. At half past four our plane landed.

No sooner did we alight, than we were met by our consultant, a half-caste Indian. He was a Tuscaroran of the Iroquois nation. Standing at six foot plus, and speaking in a soft voice, greeting us, the Maori forgot the reprimand intended, because he perceived a man of a patient nature and kindly soul there. His name was Myron Jones, and he was very fair-skinned.

It was not long before our cars were there for us. They were big cars, and there we learned that this was our means of transport by road for the next three weeks.

We were taken to our motel with its many, many storeys reaching up into the air. Our best hotels in New Zealand were no comparison to the American motels, in size, and in comfort, having big rooms with double beds in each.

At our accommodation Myron Jones briefed us that three men were calling to act as hosts to us, to entertain and treat us to dinner. It was quite dark when Myron Jones rang from his room that our hosts had arrived to meet us.

I, Hohepa Taepa, one of the clergymen of our party, was the last to report. As I entered one of our hosts stood as though petrified, and quite overcome. His glass of warming liquid refreshment was at his lips, for none of our party had told the hosts that the person they were waiting for was a parson. His two friends were also taken aback. These men were a Mexican, a Negro and a white man. These were the three men detailed to act as hosts for the night. They were just overcome with surprise at the

 
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taku tononga atu rā anō i tētahi unu hei whakamahana hoki i ahau nei, kitea tonutia atu te āta tau mahara o ngā tokotoru nei, kātahi anō ka kōrerorero, ka katakata anō. Ka mutu te whakahoahoa, ka takia mātou mā runga waka ki te whare kai, ā, i reira e toru rawa ngā hāora e kai ana i ngā kai tauhou, reka hoki, me te kōrerorero tonu. Kia āta mākona pū anō kātahi anō mātou ka matika. Te utu mō tērā manaaki nui a te tangata whenua, kotahi rau e ono tekau mā whā taara. Kātahi tētahi hākari ko tērā!

Ka puta atu mātou ki ō mātou waka, ko mātou ērā e rere ana i runga i ngā huarahi whakamīharo o Los Angeles i te pō. Hangahanga noa iho te waru tekau, te iwa tekau māero i te hāora, e whā rawa hoki ngā wāhanga o te huarahi e rere atu ana, e rere mai ana, mō ngā waka āta haere, mō ngā waka tere te kāwhaki. Mutu rawa atu mātou ki te Ambassador Hotel, te hōtēra i kōhurutia ai a Robert Kennedy. He wā anō mātou ki reira ka rere anō mātou. He tawhiti tonu te wāhi i haere ai, ka tae ki tētahi whare pōuriuri nei a roto. Tō mātou tomokanga atu, ka ārahina atu ki ō mātou tēpu, ā, kāhore i roa, tū ana mai ngā tamariki wāhine nei, tokotoru rātou, e kanikani mai ana, ā, ko tō rātou mea koeke e piupiu mai ana i ana poi, ka rongo ake i tētahi, ‘Ahaha, kātahai anō te poi tāpara kāhore he ringaringa — māmā noa iho.’ I pai i taua wā tonu hei whakangahau, hei mātakitaki, ēngari, nō tō mātou rongonga he rongoa whakananu tā rātou kai, ā, e pērā ana rātou e mahi mai rā, ka noho au me ōku nei whakaaro, ka hoki whakatekāinga ōku mahara ki aku tamāhine. Kātahi te mahi kino ki te pēnei i ngā tamariki wāhine, te whāngai ki tēnei kai taurekareka, te takakino tamariki. Heoi ko tōku tūmanako kia noho atu tēnei tū āhua ki ērā whenua, kaua rawa e tae mai ki ēnei moutere, ki Aotearoa, Te Waipounamu. Kitea rawatia ake ko te minita nei, waimarie nāna i waiho atu tana kara ki te kāinga, āe hoki, tae rawa ia ki te whare e kanikani mai ai te wāhine hore pare mō ngā uma, piupiu mai ai. Te moni a ō mātou kaimanaaki mō taua pō, e ono rau whā tekau mā ono taara; ka pō ka ao, ko tō mātou rā tuatahi tēnei ki Āmerika tūturu, ki te whenua o Karipōnia. I kite ai mātou, ka ngarue te whenua, ka ngaoko te tangata, i te pō i te awatea ki Los Angeles. Kāhore

 
 

sight of a clerical collar, and it was not until I had requested a warming liquid refreshment also, that the three hosts breathed more easily and began to talk and entertain us. After this hour of getting together we were taken by our hosts to a restaurant where we remained for about three hours, eating strange foods, enjoying them, and talking all the while. When we were well satisfied only then did we rise from the table. That meal cost our hosts a hundred and sixty four dollars. What a feast that was!

We boarded our cars and were taken on the amazing freeways of Los Angeles. It was easy cruising at eighty and ninety miles an hour on freeways with four lanes running either way, a lane for the slow cars, another for the faster cars and another for overtaking. We ended up at the Ambassador Hotel were Robert Kennedy was assassinated. We remained there awhile and then moved on. We motored for quite a while when we came to a house with subdued lighting. On entering we were conducted to our tables, and before long three girls appeared to perform their act, the older doing the poi, so that the remark was heard, ‘First time the double poi has been been done without hands — so simple.’ At that time it was good entertainment, but on reflection and learning that these girls were under drugs, I sat with my own thoughts, thoughts which were of home, of my own daughters. What abuse of womanhood, to exploit them in this way. Here was something I hoped would remain there, and never ever come to these islands of Aotearoa and Te Waipounamu. Yes, the parson, fortunately without his clerical collar at this time, found himself at a ‘topless’ restaurant. That night cost our hosts over six hundred dollars; it was night and it was day, this first day of ours in America proper, in the State of California. There we saw life in Los Angeles by day and by night. What hosts these three were!

On the Thursday morning, we were taken to a suburb called Watts District. This part of the town was the negro suburb of Los Angeles. We were conducted by a young negress, twenty-one years old. She showed us round, so that we saw their many projects, their farms, their poultry farms, so that we learnt at first hand the hopes and aspirations of these dark people, their

 
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i ārikarika te manaaki a ngā tokotoru nei!

I te ata o te Tāite ka haria mātou ki tētahi wāhi ko Watts District te ingoa. Nō ngā mangumangu tēnei moka nui tonu o te tāone o Los Angeles. I reira ka hariharia mātou e tētahi kōtiro, kua wahinetia, e rua tekau mā tahi ngā tau. Nāna mātou i taki haere, i kite ai i ā rātou mahi, i ā rātou pāmu, i ā rātou whakatupu heihei, i mōhio ai ki ō rātou tūmanakoranga, he iwi e kakari ana ki te iwi Pākehā, ki te porowhiu i ngā mekameka here i a rātou mai i ngā rā o ō rātou tūpuna.

I tēnei takiwā ka kite mātou i te kore whakaaro ake o te iwi mangu ki te hāhi, nā te aha; nā te kino tonu anō o ō rātou minita, he mangu katoa, ki te takahi i ō rātou ake anō. Ka rerekē hoki tēnei, ēngari, he tika tonu, koinei tā mātou katoa i kite ai, i rongo ai, ki te whakaaro-kino o te mangu o tēnei takiwā ki te hāhi. Heoi, ki a rātou, he tango moni tonu tā te hāhi i ngā tāngata, ka kiriweti ai ngā minenga ki te hāhi, i te mahi kino a ō rātou minita ake anō. Kāhore hoki he minita Pākehā ki aua iwi o Watts District.

I te pāmu whakatupu heihei ka kite iho ētahi o mātou i ngā utu mō ngā hēki mā, mō ngā hēki parauna. Ka kata mātou, kī tonu mai tētahi o ngā mangu nei, kite tonu mātou ki tana ongaonga, ‘He aha tā koutou e kata mai nā?’ Ka pātai atu mātou, ‘He aha i nui kē atu ai te utu mō ngā hēki parauna, i ngā hēki mā?’ Ka whakahokia mai te pātai, ‘He nui kē ake ngā kai wāriu o ngā hēki parauna, i ngā hēki mā.’ Arā kē te take rā, ko tō rātou nana ki te whakaatu ki te ao, ko rātou kē, ko ngā mangu, ngā rangatira. Rangona tonutia iho e mātou, te kino o te mangu ki te iwi kiritea. Ka haria mātou e tō mātou kaiārahi, e te kōtiro nei, ki te mātakitaki haere, ā, ahakoa haere ki hea, koinei tonu te wairua o te iwi nei, ko te kiriweti ki te iwi kiritea. Ko tētahi o ngā mahi hē a ngā minita a ngā iwi nei ko te kī, ‘Natemea he huru, e ono rau taara te wāriu, o te hoa wahine o tērā minita rā, nā, ināia tonu nei, e hiahia ana ahau kia rahi tonu te kohi mō tēnei karakia, kia riro mai ai he huru mō tōku hoa-wahine. Natemea he motokā hou tō mea minita o mea pāriha, nā, me hoko mai hoki tētahi pai kē atu i tō tērā.’ Ka kawa ai te iwi nei ki te hāhi, ka raru ai te hāhi i ngā kora nei.

Koinei anō tā mātou i kite ai i roto i

 
 

struggles against the whites to cast off the shackles which once bound their forbears.

Here in this district we learned of the negro's disregard for the Church, and the reason why; because of the bad image created by their own clergy, negro parsons, walking roughshod over their own people. This was something strange to us, yet it was true, something we ourselves were hearing for ourselves, the lukewarmness of the negro towards the church. Their image of the church was of an extortionist, hence the negro's intense dislike for the church, because of their own clergy's abuses. There were no white ministers in any part of that district of Watts.

At the poultry farm some of us saw a list of prices of white and brown eggs. We laughed, and a negro close by asked menacingly, ‘What are you guys laughing at?’ To which question we enquired, ‘Why are the white eggs priced lower than the brown eggs?’ The reply was, ‘There is more food value in the coloured eggs than in the white ones.’ But there was the obvious reason, namely, they had taken their racism right into their products. So we experienced the black man's hatred for the white man. We were taken by our young guide on a tour of the district, and wherever we went we sensed throughout, this atmosphere of hatred towards the whites. It was quoted that one of these negro parsons said to his congregation, ‘Because such-and-such a parson's wife has a fur coat worth six hundred dollars, now, therefore, I want the collection at this service to be a worthwhile one, so as to purchase a fur coat of value for my wife. Because such-and-such a parson of so-and-so parish has a new car, now, I want you to purchase one for me, superior to other parson's.’ Hence the people's very, very poor image of the church in those places, and the scorn brought upon the church by the unworthy ministers there.

We also observed a similar attitude of the

 
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ngā rāhui o ngā Inia. Te kino o te iwi ki te hāhi, i te takatakahi mārika a ngā minita, ēngari, he Pākehā kē ngā minita o ērā takiwā, e takahi nei i ō rātou tikanga, i tō rātou Māoritanga.

I a mātou e hoki mai ana ki ō mātou waka, ka peka atu ētahi o mātou ki te hoko pane kuini mō ā mātou reta. Ka pātai atu a te Apanui Wātene mō ētahi pane kuini, ki te kōtiro i tēra taha o te kaute. Tere tonu taua kōtiro, he mangumangu ia, te kī atu ki a Apanui, ‘E kī nō Niu Tireni koe!’ ‘Āe,’ ko te Apanui, ‘nō Niu Tīreni ahau, arā, mātou. He aha ai koia? E mōhio ana koe ki Niu Tīreni?’ ‘Ē, āe!’ ko tā te kōtiro whakahoki mai. ‘Ā, kāti?, kei hea oti a Niu Tīreni?’ ‘Ē, kei runga mapi rā hoki.’ Koinei tētahi mea i kite ai mātou, ko te āta kūare mārika o ngā iwi o Āmerika ki a Niu Tīreni, arā, ki ēnei moutere ki te tonga nei.

I te ahiahi ka whakamanuhiritia e mātou te kōtiro mangu nāna nei mātou i ārahi haere i Watts District, kia kai tahi mātou i tō mātou whare kai. Ka tae mai ia, ka ōta mātou i ā mātou kai. Koinei te kai ahiahi tuatahi i ōta ai mātou Māori. Heoi, ka titiro iho ahau i te rārangi kai, ka ōtaria atu e ahau he kōura, i taku mahara he pēnei me te ōta i te wā kāinga nei te iti. Ā, hei kai nui tonu māku, ka ōtaria atu he mīti, i te mahara anō, ā, pēnei anō me ō te kāinga nei. Te putanga mai o te kōura, ina te nui o taua pereti. Nui noa atu i ā tātou pereti nunui nei, pērā anō hoki te taenga mai o te mīti, ina tonu te nui o taua ōta. Te utu mō te kōura kai, e whitu taara e rima tekau heneti. Mō te mīti, e whitu taara. He aha tā tēnei ōta, tāna ako? Kia tūpato. Pātai ki a Myron Jones i te tuatahi, atu ināianei, ā, tutuki noa te haere ki New York.

I te aonga ake i te ata o te Paraire, 14 o Pepuere, ka haere atu mātou i runga i ō mātou motokā, ko Myron Jones te kaiārahi i tō mātou nei, ko Lewis Moeau te kaiārahi i tērā o ō mātou waka. Nuku noa atu i te toru rau māero tā mātou whakamaunga atu ki te rāhui tuatahi, o ngā iwi e whā, ki te rohenga Colorado River Tribes Reservation. Ngā iwi nei ko ngā Hopi, Nāwaho, Mohāwe me te Hemewehi. I te hāpāhi o te ono ahiahi, ka ū atu mātou ki ngā whare kaunihera o aua iwi. Arā, e tū mai ana he taitama tāne, he taitama wahine, te Perehetini me te Tēputi Perehetini, ō rāua ingoa, ko Adrian Fisher, ko Veronica Murdock. I taua pō, ka whāngaia

 
 

Red Indian in their reservations. The discontent of the people in those parts, is because of the open abuse by their Pakeha ministers, for there are no Indian ministers yet, and the total disregard the white parsons have for native culture and custom.

On our return to our cars, some of us called into a nearby post office to purchase stamps for our mail home. Apanui Watene asked the female attendant across the counter for stamps. The young negress was quick, ‘So, you come from New Zealand?’ ‘Yes,’ replied Apanui, ‘I am from New Zealand, we all are. Why do you ask? Do you know New Zealand?’ ‘Yes,’ said the girl. ‘Well then,’ Apanui retorted, ‘where IS New Zealand?’ ‘Oh!’ replied the lass, ‘on the map of course!’ And we did learn of the average American's ignorance of these islands' existence in the South Pacific.

In the evening we entertained our young hostess of Watts District to dinner. When she arrived we began ordering our dinners. I order Crab Louie for an entree. For my main course, I fancied Prime T-Bone Beef. When the Crab Louie appeared it was a huge order enough for two or three persons. So was the main course a very large order indeed. The Crab entree cost seven dollars fifty cents, whilst the main order cost seven dollars. What was the lesson? Only this, be careful when ordering, ask Myron Jones, our consultant, first, from now on to the end of the journey.

When we arose next morning, Friday 14 February, we motored, Myron Jones at the wheel in our car, with Lewis Moeau driving the second car. We travelled over three hundred miles to the first Reservation, of an amalgamation of four Red Indian tribes. These tribes were the Hopi, the Navajo, the Mohave and Chemewheuve, the Reservation being known as the Colorado River Tribes Reservation. At half past six in the evening we arrived at the Council Buildings of these peoples. And there we saw awaiting our arrival, a young man and a young woman, the President and Vice-President respectively, their names were Mr Adrian Fisher and Mrs Veronica Murdock. We were treated to a hearty meal of several Indian dishes, and at the end of this timely repast we adjourned to their community centre, a huge gymnasium. It was here that we were accorded a warm welcome by the elders and entertained with native dances.

 
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mātou ki ā rātou nei kai a te Inia kiriwhero, ka mutu, ka haere atu ki tō rātou whare, he hōro mō te tākaro pāhikete paoro, mō ērā tū tākaro, me ētahi atu; ina te nui o taua hōro. I reira ka mihia mātou e ō rātou kaumātua, kanikani rawa mai hoki. Tētahi pō ngahau tēnei, ā, nā Hēnare Northcroft i whakahoki ngā mihi mai, me te tukunga atu hoki i tētahi kete ki te mea wahine o rāua, arā, ki te Tēputi Perehetini, ki a Veronica Murdock. Ka mutu i konei, ka haria mātou ki tētahi kāinga nō tētahi Inia, ko John Artichoker me tana wahine ko June.

I te ata o te Rāhoroi 15 Pepuere, ka hariharia mātou ki te mātakitaki i tō rātou Rāhui Whenua, i kite ai i te kaha o ngā iwi nei ki te kuhu i a rātou, ki te whakamahi i ō rātou whenua. Te āhua nei, he tamariki te nuinga o te iwi nei. Ko tētahi o te tira Inia o Āmerika ki Niu Tīreni nei, ko tētahi tonu anō o ō rātou koeke, arā, ko William Alcaida, he tangata pukumahi ki te hāpai i ana iwi o tēnei Rāhui.

I te rua o ngā hāora ka anga atu tō mātou tira ki Phoenix, arā, ki Tempe, tau rawa atu ki tō mātou mōtēra i te hāpāhi o te whā.

I te ahiahi, ka haria mātou e tētahi Pākehā, he tohunga nō te whare wānanga o reira tonu anō, arā, ki tētahi Mihana Kātorika, kei te Rāhui o Hīra. I reira ka whāngaia mātou ki ā rātou kai. Reka ana te taka mai. He kuikuia katoa te hunga nā rātou ngā kai i taka mai mā mātou. Pēnei tonu me ō tātou kuia nei, te āhua, te tū, hei whakatoi mā te Apanui, i hākoakoa ai mātou. Ka mutu te kai, ka ārahina atu mātou e tēnei rangatira hou o mātou, a Mayland Parker, ki te hōro o te Mihana, kia tūtaki ai ki ngā tamariki o taua Mihana o Hoani. I konei ka kite mātou e mahia mai ana ā rātou nei kanikani, tekau mā toru rawa o aua kanikani i whakatūria mai hei whakatau i a mātou. Ka mutu tēnei, ka haria atu mātou ki tō rātou tino hōro, mō ngā tū tākaro maha noa iho, ā, i taua pō he pāhikete paoro te tākaro. Hei takawaenga, ka tū atu mātou ki te whakangahau hoki, ki ā mātou nei waiata, whiu ringaringa, haka tonu atu anō hoki. Ē! tino pai tonu mātou. Ka mutu mātou, ko tō mātou hokinga mai, e rua tekau māero, ki tō

 
 

It was a happy occasion. Mr Henry Northcroft replying on our behalf, did us well. On the party's behalf also, a presentation was made in the form of a beautifully designed Maori kit. This was received by Mrs Veronica Murdock on behalf of the people. [At the conclusion of all formalities an opportunity was given us to meet and chat with the people, to mingle amongst them.] Later in the evening we were taken off to the home of a young Indian couple, Mr John and Mrs June Artichoker Jnr. [The husband was a Sioux and the wife was of the Kiowa tribe of the east.]

The next morning, Saturday 15 February, we were taken on a conducted tour of this Reservation, so that we saw the industry and the progressive aspirations of these tribes of the Colorado River in developing their lands [their concern also for the unfortunate attitudes of their students who have had higher education]. Their population seemed to be predominantly a very young one. One of the members of the Indian party to New Zealand, an elder of their community, was William Alcaida, a hard working man, who expended his energy for the good of the communal life in the Reservation.

At two in the afternoon, our party left for the City of Phoenix, to find that accommodation had been made for us at Tempe motel.

That evening we travelled south to a Roman Catholic Mission in the Gila (pronounced Healer) Reservation. Here also we were treated to a sumptuous meal, prepared by elderly Indian womenfolk. The meal was delicious and beautifully cooked. It was here that we met a professor of the Tempe University, Dr Mayland, and Mrs Parker. He was our contact in these parts. The womenfolk were a jolly folk, very much like our own Maori women in their ways, so that Apanui Watene was able to tease them. After dinner the professor conducted us to the Mission Hall to meet the young people of St John's Mission. It was in this hall that we witnessed the performance of thirteen different dances. Next we were led to the Mission's gymnasium, where a match of indoor basketball was in progress. For the half time spell, our party entertained the big crowd of young people with songs, action songs and hakas. We did think we did well. At the close of the evening we returned to our motel in Tempe twenty

 
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mātou mōtēra.

I te Rātapu, ka haere mātou ko Hēnare, ko Hori, ko Vernon, ko Lewis Moeau ki te karakia o te ata, nō te muri tina, heoi anō ka whakatā, ā, tae rawa ki te ahiahi, ka tae mai tō mātou hoa a Mayland Parker, ki te hari atu i a mātou ki tētahi whare kai. Kī atu mātou ki a Mayland Parker, pēhea te tawhiti atu o taua whare, te whakahoki mai, ‘Ē, kāhore i tawhiti; kei te hurihanga ake nei.’ Tō mātou haerenga atu, arā kē te tawhiti, e whā tekau māero kē. Ā, he aha te whā, te rima tekau, te nuku noa atu rānei māero ki te Āmerikana? Kāhore he titiro ake ki te tawhiti, nā te papai, nā te whānui, nā te tiaki mārika, i ō rātou huarahi, nā te nunui, me te kaha mīhini tonu o ō rātou waka, e mea meneti noa iho kua tae. He aha i ui ai?

Ina te nui o taua whare kai, kikī tonu i te tūruhi, i te tangata. He pā i mua taua wāhi, heoi anō nā te Pākehā ka whakapaingia ake, nō reira ināianei, tētahi wāhi mūia ai e te tangata. I te nui hoki o te kai mō te iti te utu, mō te ngāwari te utu. Mutu mai i reira, hoki tonu mai mātau ki tō Mayland Parker, ki reira whakamanuhiritia ai, whakatautia ai mātou e tana whānau.

I te Mane, i te hāpāhi o te tekau mā rua, ka takia atu mātou ki te whare kai o te whare wānanga o Tempe. I reira ka tūtaki mātou ki ētahi Inia pakeke, me ētahi Pākehā aro nui mai ki te rapu tikanga i te ao o te mātauranga, hei hāpai i te iwi Kiriwhero. Ka oti tērā wāhi, ka ārahina mai mātou ki te ōtitoriama o te whare wānanga o Tempe, ka kite mātou i te nui o taua whare, ā, o te ōtitoriama tonu. E toru mano ngā nohanga tangata. Ko tō mātou hokinga mai ki te mōtēra tatari ai, mō te haōra e haere atu mātou ki tētahi atu wāhi o te Rāhui o Hīra, ki te takiwā ki a Marikopa iwi, tata te rua tekau māero te mamao atu i Tempe.

I taua Rāhui ka whāngaia mātou ki ā rātou nei kai, ki ā ngā Inia. Nā ngā wāhine tonu anō i taka mai ngā kai, pēnei anō me te taka a te Māori. Reka ana ā mātou kai. Ka mutu te kai, he waiata hīmene tā mātou mahi, me te waiata mai hoki o ngā Inia i ngā hīmene, ēngari, i te reo Pākehā. Ka tae anō ki te wā hei matikatanga, ka haere atu mātou ki te hui-ā-iwi a ngāi-rātou mā. He mea pōwhiri mai anō mātou kia haere atu. Ka mutu ngā mihi atu ki ngā kuikuia nā rātou nei i taka

 
 

miles away.

On Sunday morning Henry Northcroft, George Asher, Vernon Winitana, Lewis Moeau and I took advantage of our free day by attending Holy Communion, and then a free afternoon till the professor came to take us to dinner at a dining place. We enquired of Mayland Parker just how far away was this dining house, and his reply was, ‘Not far; it's just around the corner.’ When we set off in our cars, the distance turned out to be forty miles away. But what is forty or fifty or more miles to an American? That was nothing — with the beautiful, wide, and well maintained highways, and the big, powerful cars to motor in, distance only took a matter of minutes. So why ask.

What a huge dining house we saw. And how packed it was with tourists, with people. This place was an old fort in former days, but Pakehas set this place up anew, so that now it is a favourite place and always filled up with people. The meal was a sumptuous one and cost very little. We finished up at Mayland Parker's home where his family entertained us for the rest of the evening.

On Monday at half past twelve, we lunched at the Tempe University dining hall, and met there some of the Indian elders and Pakehas of goodwill towards the Indians in the way of education, and the general welfare of the Indians. When that part was disposed of, we were taken to the auditorium of the university where there was seating for three thousand people. We returned to our motel and waited for the hour to leave for another part of the Gila Reservation which belonged to the Marikopa tribe, about twenty-five miles away.

At that Reservation we were again treated to a good meal. Here again the cooks were Indian women, whose cooking techniques were no different from our own. But the meal was sweet to the palate. After our meal we spent a while singing with these Indian folk good, favourite Presbyterian hymns, for these people were Presbyterians. At the appropriate time we, with some of our hosts, attended a tribal meeting to which we were invited. When we concluded our thanks to the old women who had prepared our meal, we followed Mr Nick Sunn a Marikopa Indian and an elder of that Reservation.

 
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kai mai, i āwhina, i manaaki, ka whai atu mātou i a Nick Sunn, tētahi o ngā kaumātua o taua Rāhui.

I te hui, ka tūtaki mātou ki tētahi minenga nui tonu o te Marikopa. Ka mutu ngā mihimihi, ka whakahaeretia tā rātou hui. I reira ka aroha mātou ki te iwi nei, ā, ka rongo i ngā aureretanga o Marikopa, ki te tūmanako-kore o rātou, i tō rātou whakaaro i roto o te tekau tau, ka ngaro a Marikopa, ka mate, i te tere heke o tō rātou kaute. I reira anō ka rongo mātou ki ō rātou āwangawanga mō te taha mātauranga, i tō rātou pōuri ki ngā mahi kino a te Pākehā ki te whakatahuri ke i te rere a te awa, waihotia ake ō rātou whenua Rāhui kia takoto pakapaka ana i roto i te rā, i ngā takakino a ō rātou minita, he Pākehā katoa, kāhore hoki he minita Inia i roto i ngā Rāhuitanga whenua o Arizona, o New Mexico. Ko te take i tino kawa ai te iwi nei ki te hāhi, ko te āta kite o rātou i ō rātou minita e āta whawhai ana i waenganui i a rātou tonu, ki te āki i a rātou i ngā minenga Inia, i roto i tō rātou rawakoretanga, kia neke noa atu te kohi, hei āwhina i tētahi Mihana i Niu Tīreni. Kātahi te kino, te mahi taurekereka! Koinei ka kiriweti te hunga nei ki te hāhi, mō te takatakahi a ō rātou minita i te iwi, me ō rātou tikanga Inia motuhake.

I tō mātou āta pōuri hoki, ka tū atu mātou ki te whakamārama, arā, ko

 
 

At the meeting we met a goodly number of the Indian folk. When the formal greetings were ended the meeting proper proceeded. There we felt sorry for these peoples, for we heard of their trials and tribulations, their hopelessness, their smoothing their pillows and lying on them, for they had given themselves ten years, until they would be no more, for their numbers were decreasing rapidly. There also we heard of their deep concern in the question of education, their painful experience of the Pakeha's diversion of the river course, so leaving their Reservation lands parched and dry in the sun, the abuses perpetrated by their ministers, all Pakehas, for there are no Indian Christian ministers in the Reservations of Arizona or New Mexico. One reason for turning these people against the Church is the open bickering and fighting going on between the spiritual leaders in these Reservations, and also the pressures by these same leaders on these people, in their utter poverty, to increase their giving to help a mission in New Zealand. What a nasty piece of work, what deception! For these reasons the people have turned away from the church, because of the discredit that has been heaped upon their customs and culture by their Pakeha spiritual leaders.

In our sorrow also, we contributed to

Picture icon

Members of the New Zealand party talking with lecturers in the Anthropology Department, University of Mexico

 
– 14 –
 

rātou tonu te hāhi. Ki te kore rātou, ka kore hoki te hāhi. Nā reira, kia kaha ki a rātou, kaua e tukuna kia takatakahia rātou. Kotahi te kupu Pākehā i whakahuatia e ahau, i taku āwangawanga mō te hunga nei, arā, ko te kupu nei, ‘plug’. Ki a tātou hoki o Niu Tīreni, tōna tikanga, mehemea ka hiahia nuitia e te tangata tētahi mea, me nana ia, me whakapau e ia tōna kaha katoa kia riro mai rā anō taua mea i matea nuitia rā. I te āta wareware, ka whakahokihoki e au tēnei kupu, rongo rawa ake ahau e katakata ana ētahi o mātou. Mōhio tonu ake au kua hē au, arā, i taku whakahua hē i te kupu Pākehā nei ‘plug’, notemea ki a rātou, ki ngā Inia o Āmerika, ko te tikanga o te kupu nei, ‘me ai’, arā, kia kaha tonu te ai, ki te matea nuitia tētahi mea. Aue taukiri e! Te kūare i ahau nei e!

Tērā tētahi wāhi anō i whakawātea mai ki a mātou o te hui, arā, i te rerenga o ngā kōrero mō te mātauranga, pai tonu te kapo atu a ō mātou nei tohunga i te take nei. I pai i te tīmatanga atu, nāwai ā, ka taumaha haere te rere o te kōrero, tiro rawa ake, arā kē ō mātou kaikōrero me ā rātou kupu nunui, kupu taumaha tonu, tē taea te hopu atu e te Pākehā tonu. Ko te tūnga ake o Tame Hāwea, tō mātou minita Perehepitiriana, ‘E hoa mā, ki taku mōhio kāore ō tātou rangatira nei nā i te mōhio mai ki ā tātou kōrero, ahakoa koinei tō rātou reo. Arā kē koutou e rere ana. Me kōrero au mōku ake, kāore rawa ahau i te mōhio atu he aha ā koutou kōrero. Nō reira, e hoa mā, kaua rā ahau e warewaretia. Heke iho ki tōku taumata, kia mōhio katoa ai mātou ko ō tātou rangatira nei nā, ki ā tātou kōrero.’ Miere tonu atu mātou i a Tame Hāwea. Ka hoki mai mātou ki tō mātou mōtēra, me tā mātou whakatoitoi ki a mātou anō.

I a mātou e hoki mai ana i roto i tō mātou nei waka, ka whakatūpato tō mātou rangatira, a Myron Jones, i a mātou, mō ētahi o ā mātou kupu Pākehā, notemea rerekē te whakamārama a te Āmerikana, rerekē tā te reo Pākehā o Niu Tīreni. Ā, ka puta te kupu nei, te ‘squaw’. Nā Myron Jones tonu i whakahua, me te whakamārama mai he kupu nā te Kiriwhero o Āmerika tēnei kupu, ehara i te kupu, Pākehā mō ngā wāhine Inia. Me tana pātai mai anō mehemea kua rongo mātou i te Inia, i te Pākehā Āmerikana rānei e whakahua ana i taua kupu. Ka kōrero mai ia, kaua

 
 

the discussions explaining that they were the church in that Reservation, for without the people there would be no church, therefore they must try harder to rectify things. There was one word, however, that I used, in my desire to be helpful; the word was plug. To us of New Zealand, to want something very much we must work hard for it, we must give of our all in order to obtain what is desired so strongly. In a moment of oversight, I repeated this word often, until I heard some sniggering behind me by some of our own party. Then it dawned on me the word plug, while it meant this to us, meant something quite different to the Red Indian, for whilst I in all innocency urged our Indian folk to toil hard, I was in effect exhorting them to rape. Ah me! What gross thoughtlessness!

Another opportunity was given us to join in the discussion, this time in connection with education. This was easily taken up by our experts in that field. To begin with it was quite good, then the debate took a different turn, for our speakers were becoming more and more technical in their expressions, making things more difficult to follow. Our Presbyterian parson, Rev. Tom Hawea could contain himself no longer, and jumping to his feet, said, ‘I am sure our people here don't know a word you're saying, even though they speak in English. You are in an orbit of your own. For myself, I don't know what you're talking about because of your vocabulary. Therefore, don't forget that I am here. Be kind to me, and come down to my level, so that we all with our people here will understand the discussion.’ Tom Hawea struck a masterful stroke. That was the end of that debate. On our way home to our motel we began teasing one another.

In our car on the way back, our consultant Myron Jones warned us about terminology in the States, for what might mean one thing in New Zealand, could quite well mean something else in America. He therefore warned us against the use of the word ‘squaw’. He explained that it was of Indian origin. He furthermore asked us, if in our short time in the States we had ever heard an American white or a Red Indian use the term at all. He then impressed on us to be careful in the use of the term, for the word ‘squaw’ to the Red Indian meant the ‘female genitals’. Therefore

 
– 15 –
 

rawa e pokanoa ki te whakahua i taua kupu, notemea te tikanga o tēnei kupu te ‘squaw’ ki ngā Inia Kiriwhero, ko te aroaro, arā, ko te tara o te wahine. Nō reira ki te whakahuatia te kupu nei kei pōhēhē he kupu tuarua tēnei mō te kupu nei te ‘wahine’. He wahine anō te wahine, he squaw anō te squaw.

He torotoronga nui tēnei ki ahau, notemea he maha tonu ngā mea i akonatia ai ahau ake, ngā whakatūpato, ngā aureretanga, ngā panga, ngā kino, ngā pōuritanga, ngā mamaetanga o tēnei iwi o te Marikopa. I konei hoki ka āhua raruraru ngā whakaaro, i te kite ake i te tāone o Phoenix, o Tempe, ki te whai rawa nui noa atu, ā kāhore i tawhiti mai ko te Kiriwhero o Marikopa e noho ana i roto te paru, i te rawakore, i te tūmanako-kore, i te hē noa iho. Ka tangi ake, he aha rawa rā i pakia pēneitia ai tēnei hunga, anō nei he iwi kua warewaretia.

I te ono o ngā hāora ka takina anō mātou ki te whare kai o te whare wānanga o Tempe, ā, i reira ka tūtaki mātou ki te Karere o te Pirīmia o Niu Tīreni me tana hoa wahine, tana kaiāwhina hoki a Te Hapimana me tāna nei wahine, hei manuhiri mā mātou. He mea tō tonu mai e mātou, āta whakatau rawatia e Hēnare, haka rawatia, whāngaia rawatia, ā, ko tō mātou hikinga atu ki te whare wānanga, ki te whakarongo ki te whaikōrero a te Karere nei a Kōna, mō tā Niu Tīreni wāhi i roto, ā, i waenga i ngā mana nunui o Te Tonga-Rāwhiti o Āhia. Nā mātou tonu i tīmata atu, i whakapūare tana whaikōrero ki te Hīmene, ‘Tama Ngākau Mārie’; whai tonu ake ki te ruri, ‘Hokihoki tonu mai’, waiata tonu atu i te waiata-ā-ringa, ‘Me he manu rere ahau e’, ko te haerenga mai o te hoa wahine a Te Hapimana (te Tēputi Kanaha ki a Kōna), ki te āwhina mai. Kātahi anō a Kōna ka kōrero, tētahi whaikōrero mātau, reka hoki ki te whakarongo. Ka koa rā mātou i tō mātou waimarie, tūpono tonu mātou ki Tempe i taua wā tonu.

I te ata o te Wenerei, i te hāpāhi o te tekau, ka neke tō mātou tira ki Tucson, tētahi tāone rongonui, mō ngā pikitia kaupoi nei. I reira hoki te whakaahuatanga i te Terewīhana rarā, a te ‘High Chaparral’, arā, ki waho atu o te tāone. Tō mātou haerenga atu, rere kē ō mātou waka mā te huarahi tawhiti kia karapoti ai i a mātou

 
 

beware, lest anyone in speech might think it synonymous for woman, as we had learned that woman is woman, and squaw is squaw.

This visit was most worthwhile indeed for us all; it was an education even if only for terminology's sake, or warnings, for we did learn of the groanings of the peoples, their good fortunes and their misfortunes, their frustrations and their injuries. We found it most distressing to note the obvious affluence and prosperity of Phoenix and Tempe, while only a short distance away, the Maricopa Indians existed in such utter squalor, poverty and hopeless misery. The sad cry welled to the surface: ‘Oh, why should these people suffer such hardship, as if they were a people utterly forsaken?’

At six o'clock in the evening we found ourselves again returning to the dining hall of the Tempe University, where we met the Ambassador of New Zealand and his wife, also Mr Chapman and his wife, our guests for the evening dinner. We actually hauled them into the dining room to the rhythm of a canoe-hauling chant. Mr Henry Northcroft on this occasion extended the usual formalities on our party's behalf, after which we adjourned to the University where the Ambassador, Mr Frank Corner, would deliver his lecture on the place of New Zealand in South-East Asia. Our party prefaced his address with the hymn ‘Tama Ngakau Marie’ followed by the ditty, ‘Hokihoki tonu mai’ and the action song, ‘Me he manu rere’, in which His Excellency aided by Mrs Chapman participated. Then the Ambassador spoke, giving what proved to be a most informative and challenging address. We were pleased at our good fortune to be in Tempe at that very moment.

On Wednesday morning at half past ten, we left for Tucson (pronounced Toosarn), in the south, a town well known for its cowboy films. It was there that the television programme ‘The High Chaparral’ was

 
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te Rāhui whenua o te Pāpako iwi. I waenga huarahi ka peka ō mātou waka i tētahi teihana hokohoko, ko Aio te ingoa. Pōhēhē mātou kua mutu noa atu aua teihana nei; kāore, kitea ake anō kei te whakahaere tonu. I tō mātou ūnga atu, ka rongo mātou i te makariri o te takurua; ka aroha mātou ki ngā Inia, ngā wāhine me ngā tamariki, e putaputa mai ana i te ururua, i te koraha, e wiri ana i te mātao. Ka whakaaro ake pēhea rā, he aha rawa rā te oranga o tēnei iwi, ā, ka whakamīharo te ngākau, me te tuku whakawhetai-ā-ngākau ake, mō ana manaaki ki a tātou ki te Māori.

I konei ka kāwhaki anō te haere, ka tae atu ki tētahi pekanga, ki tētahi whare tokoraurape, o ngā wāhine me ngā tane kaupoi o neherā. He roa tonu mātou ki reira, i te mīharo o taua whare nei, me ngā karetao e mahi mai ana i ā rātou mahi. Ka hipa mai mātou i reira ki tō mātou whakamaunga mai, arā, ki Tucson, he tāone tino nui anō hoki, ēngari te anu, te mātao. Hei aha hoki, notemea ngā kāinga katoa, ngā whare nunui katoa, ahakoa he aha te whare, katoa, whakamahana katoatia ai; anō nei ko te raumati tonu, i te mahana, ahakoa te hinga o te huka, ahakoa te mātotoru o te hukapapa, ki roto ki ngā whare o Āmerika mahana ana te tangata, kāhore rawa he wāhi mō te koti nui, koti taumaha.

I Tucson ka noho anō mātou i roto i tētahi mōtēra nui, mōtēra pai kē atu i ō tātou hōtēra ātaahua o Niu Tireni nei. Te mahana ai hoki, te pai o te whāngai i te tangata, tau ana te noho. Ko te ingoa o taua mōtēra, ko te College Inn, he kāinga kē hoki tēnei mō ngā tamariki e haere ana ki te whare wānanga o tērā tāone nui. I te aonga ake o te ata, ka kai, ā, ka haere atu mātou ki te whare wānanga ki te toro atu i ētahi o ngā tohunga o taua Whare Wānanga, ngā kaiako mātau ki te hītori, ki ngā mahi, me ngā tikanga o ngā Inia o Āmerika, arā, o taua takiwā ake. Ko aua tohunga, he pēnei tonu me ngā tohunga o ō tātou whare wānanga, o te wāhanga e pā ana ki ngā āhuatanga katoa o te tangata, mai i te ōrokohanganga o te ao, arā, pēnei i tēnei o mātou i a Robert Mahuta o Ākarana Whare Wānanga, i a te Koro Dewes rānei me tētahi o rāua me Te Hurihanganui o te Whare Wānanga o Pōneke nei. Kotahi te mea i kite ai ahau, arā, he mea rerekē ki ahau, ko ngā tohunga o ngā whare wānanga nei kāhore i puta ki waho ki ngā tāngata,

 
 

shot, actually further out of the town. We took the longest route so as to traverse the bigger part of the Papago Reservation. About midway along the route we branched off at Ajo to a trading station. This was something we thought no longer existed. When we alighted from our cars we felt the cold, for this was mid-winter in the States; what a sad sight to see the Indian women and children coming out of the desert scrub shivering with the cold. So we wondered what sustained these people, and then we thought again with thankful hearts for the many blessings we, the Maori, enjoy.

We sped on till we came to another crossing, this time to a puppet house, all western figurines. We spent much time here so fascinating were the marionettes at work. From there we came on to Tucson, another well-known city with a population of 212,000 people, but, what a cold, bleak place. This cold of course was of no concern for all the houses were centrally heated so that inside was like summer in spite of the falling snow; and though the snow lay deep on the ground, the people indoors were kept warm, for there was no room for coats of any kind.

We were again accommodated in a huge and beautiful motel at Tucson, bigger than a number of our New Zealand hotels. The place was warm, the food was good, and the accommodation was comfortable. This motel was called the College Inn, a place of residence for University students in Tucson city. In the morning we breakfasted and then called on some of the professors of the Anthropology Department of Tucson University, the authorities on the history, the movements, the culture of the Indian American in those parts. These lecturers may be likened to the lecturers in our universities in the Anthropology departments, such as Robert Mahuta of Auckland University, Koro Dewes of Wellington University and Abe Hurihanganui also of Wellington University. There was one observation we made which seemed to be rather odd, that the professors of this university were out of touch with the people they should be concerned about, and failed to move out and meet these people whereas Mahuta, Dewes and Hurihanganui did move out and identify themselves with the Maori of their community, and indeed further afield still; to help the people and to lift the people to a place of pride, in the retention

 
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kāhore i pēnei me rātou kua whakahuatia ake nei e au, a Mahuta mā, te haere ki te āwhina i ngā mahi, ki te hāpai i ngā iwi, ki te kawe i ngā tikanga-ā-Māori, kia mau ai tā tāua taonga i waimarie ai tātou, te Māoritanga.

I te tekau o ngā hāora o te ata, ka whakamau atu mātou ki Nogales, he tāone takawaenga o Mēhiko me Āmerika i te tonga. I konei ka kite mātou i te nanakia o te hunga hokohoko i ā rātou taonga ki te tangata. Ka hoki ōku nei mahara ki te nanakia o ngā Inia o Whīti, te kamakama mō tēnei tū mahi te hokohoko. Tata tonu te rere o te ringa ki roto pākete kukume moni ake ai. I reira ka rongo mātou i ō rātou kaiwaiata, e waiata mai ana i ngā waiata e waiatatia nei e ā tātou tamariki, ka mea ake anō, ‘Kei hea te rekanga o ō rātou reo?’ Te waiatatanga a tētahi tokotoru i te waiata rarā, ‘Ki te Tonga o te Remu’ ka pupū noa ake te tito, pai kē ake ngā reo o ā tātau tamariki i ō taua hunga. Hakihaki ana te tangi mai. I kī ake rā, he iwi māia tēnei, nanakia hoki; ko tō mātou totika, ko tō mātou kaiārahi ko Myron Jones, hei whakatūpato, me ē, ka raru rā te tangata, i ngā Mēhikana nei. Ahakoa te paruparu o tēnei tāone, tino kaha tonu te mui a te tangata, a te tūruhi, i te pai tonu anō o ngā taonga i kite ai mātou, o ngā whare kai hoki. I te hāpāhi o te rima ka hoki mātou ki Tucson, ā, moe iho, i te aonga ake ko te Paraire te rua tekau mā tahi o Pepuere.

Ka mutu tā mātou parakuihi, ka maunu mai mātou i Tucson mō Flagstaff tāone nui, e rua rau, e ono tekau mā rima māero ki te nōta. He waru te hāora i maunu mai mātou, ā, tae rawa atu ki Flagstaff tāone i te muri tina, hāwhe pāhi te tekau mā rua. I te huarahi anō ka tū ō mātou waka, i ētahi teihana hokohoko e rua, ā, ka mārō mai te haere ki Flagstaff. I konei atu anō, ka tīmata te rere o te huka. Ka tata haere atu ki Flagstaff, ka kite mātou i te hōhonu me te whakapipi a te huka i runga i te whenua, i tahataha o te huarahi, ā, mō ngā māero maha huri noa. Tae rawa atu ki Flagstaff tāone, arā kē te hōhonu mārika o te huka, ēngari, te ātaahua i te pō, i roto i te pō, i roto i te kānga hiko, mīharo ana. He tuatahi kē hoki tēnei tū āhua ki ētahi o mātou.

I Flagstaff, ka rongo mātou, e kore e puta te tangata ki te mātaki i tētahi o ngā whakamīharo o te ao, arā, i te Grand Canyon,

 
 

of their Maoritanga in its many facets.

Ten in the morning, we started for Nogales, a town on the border of Mexico and Arizona south. Here we soon learned that we had to be very careful in buying anything. Here was the adept Hindu of Fiji, all over again. Almost pulling your cash out of your pockets. We had occasion to listen to their serenaders singing the songs our children sing. We were disappointed, for we heard no singers of worth. After listening to three serenaders singing ‘South of the Border’, I concluded that we had singers far superior to these songsters. Their voices were terrible to listen to. I mentioned the forwardness of their salesmen; we were fortunate to have Myron Jones to consult, otherwise the Mexican high pressure would have prevailed. In spite of its grubby streets and even shops, the town was a favourite with tourists because of the lovely wares offering. At half past five we returned to Tucson for the night by a more direct route, to awake on Friday morning 21 February.

After breakfast we left Tucson for Flagstaff, a city of 21,000 people in the north, 265 miles away. We left at eight in the morning and arrived at Flagstaff just after lunch time. Along the way our party stopped at two trading posts and then went on to Flagstaff: Some distance from Flagstaff, the snow began to fall. As we neared the city we saw the snow become deeper and deeper for miles around. At Flagstaff itself there was ample evidence of the theavy snowfall. But what a pretty sight in the glow of the night lights. This was a first viewing for some of us.

We heard at Flagstaff that there was no possible hope of seeing one of the sights of the world, the Grand Canyon, because of

 
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i te kaha maringi iho o te huka. Kua kati kē hoki ngā huarahi ki taua wāhi. I konei anō ka tūtaki mātou ki ētahi tamariki tāne, he kiriwhero, o te Whare Wānanga o Flagstaff, I roto i ngā kōrerorero ka puta ake anō i tētahi o ngā tamariki nei, tana pōuri ki te āhua o ngā hāhi i waenga i a rātou, i ngā kiriwhero, o te rīriri o ngā minita i waenga i a rātou anō, tō rātou nohonoho kino, ēnei tū āhua hē rawa. He pō mātou ki tēnei tāone, ao i te Rāhoroi, te rua tekau mā rua o Pepuere, ka rere atu mātou i runga motokā, ki Tuba City i waenga ururua, koraha hoki.

Ka mahue atu a Flagstaff tāone, ka mārō tonu atu mātou ki Tuba City ki te tomokanga atu ki te Rāhui tino nui o ngā rāhui katoa, arā, ki te Rāhui Nawaho (Navajo).

Hāwhe tonu te Ika a Māui nei ka rite ai te nui ki taua Rāhui. Tekau mā ono miriona eka tōna nui, arā, e rua tekau mā rima mano koēa māero, ā, e whā tekau mā whā koēa māero anake te nui o tā Māui Ika nei.

Koinei te tīmatanga atu o tā mātou rere i runga i ngā huarahi o te Nāwaho. I Tuba City ka tūtaki mātou ki ngā kuikuia, korokoroua kiriwhero, ngā kaumātua whiri rawa i ō rātou makawe, ngā kuia, ngā wāhine tangara noa iho ngā makawe; te āhua o taua iwi, āno nei kei te ao tawhito tonu, ahakoa nō te ao hou ngā pueru, ngā kākahu. Ko te reo ko tō ngā tūpuna anō. Ko tōna kaute i tērā tau (1968), hāwhe tonu i tō tātou i tō te Māori o Niu Tīreni nei. Ko ngā kaiwhakahaere i ōna āhuatanga katoa, he Kaunihera-ā-iwi. Ko te Māngai he Heamana, he Tēputi-Heamana me ngā mema e whitu tekau mā whā. Koinei te hunga whakahaere i ngā āhuatanga katoa, i ngā take katoa e pā ana ki te Nāwaho. O ngā iwi kiriwhero katoa o te Tonga-mā-uru, koinei te iwi kaha noa ake ki te kuhu i a ia nei, te kaha ki te kawe i tōna Māoritanga motuhake, ā, ki te whai tonu anō i te mātauranga o te Pākehā. I Window Rock ka kite mātou i te Whare Pāremata o tēnei iwi. I runga atu, ki te nōta o Window Rock, ka haria mātou ki tētahi wāhi aua atu ana ki waenga koraha, ko Many Farms te ingoa, ā, i reira ka kite mātou i te kāreti mō ngā tamariki o te iwi nei, ā, ka mātau mātou he kiriwhero tonu anō te tumuaki o tēnei kāreti.

Ka wehe mai mātou i reira ki runga atu anō ki Rough Rock, ā, i reira ka kite mātou i te kura mō ngā tamariki ririki, ā, piki atu

 
 

the heavy fall of snow that closed off all approaches to this beauty of nature. We met here other university students from Indian Reservations. Quite naturally the students referred to the very poor image of the church in the Reservations, brought about by the open arguments of spiritual leaders, and their uncompromising attitudes towards one another. We spent a night in Flagstaff and then proceeded to Tuba City way out in the desert wastes, on Saturday 22 February.

With Flagstaff now behind us we pressed on to Tuba City, the entrance for us into the largest Reservation of all, namely, the Navajo Reservation.

The size of the Reservation is about half that of the North Island. It comprises sixteen million acres, that is, 25,000 sq. miles, whereas Maui's Fish is 44,000 sq. miles.

Here we began to ride the Navajo highways. In the city itself we met some of the elders, men and women, the former wearing their hair in plaits while the latter just let it hang loose; they gave the impression that they still lived in their primitive state, even though their attire was modern. Their language was still the first language. Their population last year was more than half the total Maori population of New Zealand. Their administrators made up their Tribal Council. This was led by a Chairman and Vice-chairman and 74 other members. They administered the affairs of the Navajo people. Of all the south-western tribes, the Navajo was the most industrious and progressive, holding fast to their language and culture, ever in search of new learning. At Window Rock we saw their Parliament. To the north of Window Rock, miles out in the desert, we were taken to a place called Many Farms, where there was a College for the Navajo children and we learned that the principal of the College was himself an American Indian.

We left the College for the Demonstration school of Rough Rock, situated on the other side of a high range, a school for children from Head Start (pre-school) on to primary. We met the principal, a Red Indian, and some of the staff and here we saw a wonderful happening. The very small children were being taught by their own grandparents their own history and their many handcrafts, per medium of their own language, from infancy to the age of eight years when they are introduced to the English

 
– 19 –
 

te pakeke. Ka tūtaki anō ki te tumuaki me ētahi o ngā māhita, ko te tumuaki he kiriwhero anō hoki, ā, i konei ka kite mātou i tētahi mea mīharo, arā, ko ngā kaiako i ngā tamariki ririki ko ngā koroua me ngā kuia tonu, ako i ā rātou mokopuna ki ō rātou nei hītori tonu, ā rātou nei mahi huhua, i roto tonu anō i tō rātou reo o te kiriwhero, ā, tae noa atu ki te waru tau te pakeke o ngā tamariki nei, kātahi anō ka hoatu te reo Pākehā hei ako. Ka kitea ai te kaha mau o te mauri, o te reo o tēnei iwi i roto i te ia o te ao hou.

Ahakoa haere mātou ki hea Rāhui, arā, e iri mai ana ngā whakatūpato ki nga tūruhi, i te kaha ongaonga ki te hunga nei, i te maninohea noa iho, ‘Kaua he pene, he pukapuka, kaua he rekōta, kaua he tangowhakaahua, e heira mai ki roto ki tēnei Rāhui.’ Ahakoa nō te Nāwaho, nō te Hopi, nō te Pewepero, nō wai ake rāhui, koinei te whakatūpato i kite ai mātou. Koinei ka mau, ahakoa te ono rau tau o tona tūtakinga, o tōna noho tahitanga i te taha o te Pākehā, mau tonu tōna wehi, tōna reo, tōna mauri, tōna nei Māoritanga.

He iwi kaha rawa atu te Nāwaho ki te ngaki-tikangi mōna nei, i tana waimarie ki te tūpono ki te hinu, ki te waro, hiriwa, ki tā rātou waru miriona taara mira rākau, i whai rawa ai ki te whakamahi i ō rātou whenua, i whiwhi oranga ai te iwi nei. Ēngari ahakoa tēnei whakawhiwhinga, he whiwhinga kē noa ake tā tāua, e te iwi, i ō tātou moutere ātaahua, whenua pai noa ake, ahakoa ōna iti i te taha o ērā whenua kē o Āmerika.

Kei waenganui tonu o te Rāhui Nāwaho ko te Rāhui Hopi. Karapoti katoa i te Nāwaho, i ōna tahataha katoa, te iwi o ngā Hopi. E ai ki ngā kōrero, koinei te iwi kāhore anō i whakapororarutia e ngā āhuatanga o te ao hou.

Ka momotu mai mātou i Tuba City, ka whai mai i tētahi tangata moe wahine, nō te iwi Hopi ko Vernon Matayesba, he tamaiti i tūtaki atu ki a mātou i Tempe

 
 

language for the first time. Their native mana and the retention of their language in this modern age therefore were most noticeable.

Whatever reservation we visited we were always confronted by a notice in bold print warning tourists, for they were utterly sick and tired of them, ‘No pencil and paper, no tape recorders, no photography in this Reservation’. Whether it be a Navajo, Hopi, Pueblo or any other reservation, this was the notice that greeted us. Such was their tenacious hold, in spite of their six hundred years' contact with western civilisation on their language, their customs, their culture, their peculiar Maoritanga.

The Navajo was always ready to find new ways, because he had luckily struck oil, so he developed his coal mines, silver mines and eight-million-dollar timber mill, and worked his lands for the communal advantage of the tribe. But with all these blessings, I believe we have a greater, in the beauty of our islands, the natural arable lands to work, though small in comparison with the vastnesses of America.

In the very middle of this Reservation we came on the Hopi Reservation. Surrounded on all sides by the Navajo, the Hopi dwells as he did in time past. According to reports, the Hopi people's culture remains unspoiled by the encroachments of the modern world.

After leaving Tuba City, we followed a married man, of the Hopi tribe, called Vernon Matayesba, a student we met at

Picture icon

This photograph illustrates typical Navajo country. It was taken as the party was proceeding towards Alberquerque

 
– 20 –
 

Whare Wānanga. Ko tana whāwhai kia puta ia hei rōia.

Nā te tangata nei mātou i taki atu ki tōna kāinga i Oraipi Hou (New Oraibi), koinei tō mātou tomokanga tuatahi ki te kainga o te kiriwhero. I reira ka manaakitia mātou e tana hoa wahine me ana mātua. Mutu mai ki reira ka wehe mai mātou ki tētahi o ngā pā tūwatawata tawhito o ngā Hopi, ko tōna ingoa ko Walpi, ko te tikanga o tēnei ingoa, ko te Oputa.

Ko te rāhui o ngā Hopi e ono rau mano eka. Ko te kaute o te iwi nei neke atu i te rima mano, ā, ko te tikanga o tōna ingoa, ko ‘Te Hunga Rangimārie’, ā, kei a ia anō hoki tōna ake reo o te Shoshone me tōna nei whakapono ki te Atua.

I te take o te Mēha Tuatahi, te tūranga o te pā tūwatawata o te Walpi hapū, ka pōngia mātou. E rere ana hoki te huka, hei aha mā ō mātou waka tae atu ana ki runga ki te tairangatanga o taua pā. Neke atu i te toru rau putu te teitei ake i te huarahi i raro. Whakamataku ana. I te pā nei ka rongo mātou kāhore kē i te noho mōhio te iwi nei ko tō mātou ope tēnei ka eke atu. Ko tō mātou hekenga iho anō, i te mataku kei mau atu mātou i te huka mō tētahi wā roa tonu. Ko taua iwi nei e whakarangaranga ana ki tā rātou nei whakatūtū, arā, ki a rātou, ko te ‘Kanikani o te Neke’. He mahi tohunga tonu atu tēnei. Hapā ana mātou, hei aha, i te taenga iho ki te huarahi kātahi anō ka māhā, i te whakamataku o te huarahi iho, i te whāitiiti, i te pāhekeheke ai, i te mahi a te huka rere. Moe rawa atu mātou ki Keams Canyon.

I te ata, tū ana mai ko Lawrence Geshey me tana wahine me tā rāua tamaiti, hei taki i a mātou. Ka mahue atu a Keams Canyon, ka mahue atu te Rāhui o ngā Hopi, ā, ka puta mai mātou ki te Rāhui anō o te Nāwaho. I a mātou i te huarahi ka peka atu mātou ki tētahi teihana hokohoko ko Hubbell Teihana tēnei, he wāhi whakatānga tangata, whakatānga hōiho i ngā rā o mua, ā, he wāhi hokohoko taonga, e hokohoko tonu nei i tēnei rā. I reira ka whakamau mai mātou ki Window Rock, te wāhi tūranga o te Pāremata o te Nāwaho, ā, haere tonu mai ki tētahi tāone anō ko Gallup. I konei ka whiti mai mātou i te whenua o Arizona ki te whenua o New Mexico. Āhua riterite tonu te nui o ngā whenua e rua nei. Te nui o Arizona kotahi rau, kotahi

 

Tempe University who aspired to be a lawyer.

He led us to his home in New Oraibi village and this was our first visit to an Indian home. He with his wife and parents extended us hospitality after which we departed for an ancient Hopi fort still in use. It was called Walpi, meaning ‘the place of the gap’.

The Hopi Reservation consists of 6,000 acres. Its population exceeds five thousand and the meaning of the name Hopi is ‘The peaceful ones’, its language is Shoshone and they retain their native religion and faith in God.

At the foot of the First Mesa, the site of the Walpi subtribe, we were benighted. Snow was falling at the time, but our cars managed to reach the fort above. The height of the Mesa was more than 300 feet. It was an awesome sight. We learned at the pa that they had had no word at all of our visit. We therefore retraced our way down, for fear that we might become snowbound, and be compelled to remain longer than we anticipated. The people were preparing for their observance of the festival of the Snake Dance. This was also a religious observance. We missed this, but having reached the highway below we felt more at ease, because of the dangerous road down, so narrow and slippery with the falling snow. We spent the night at the motel at Keams Canyon.

In the morning, Lawrence Geshey with his wife and child had arrived to escort us. When we left Keams Canyon behind, we also left the Hopi Reservation, and once again came out into Navajo territory. Along the way we called in on one of the old trading stations called Hubbell Trading Post, once a resting place for man and beast, and still a trading post. From there we hurried on to Window Rock, the capital of the Navajo, and from that point to Gallup township. Thus we entered New Mexico from Arizona. The two States are about the same in size. Arizona is 113,000 sq. miles

continued on page 38

– 21 –

Human Rights Year

When Her Excellency Lady Porritt opened the Annual General Meeting of the New Zealand Pan Pacific South East Asian Women's Association at Christchurch on 21 February, she appealed to the Association to support the declaration made by a group of women in Wellington. She described the declaration as something worthy of women's effort for a way of life so needed in the world today.

* * * *

We believe in New Zealand, in her ability to play a constructive part in world affairs. We believe the women of New Zealand can inspire and influence the whole life of the nation.

We are concerned at today's cynicism, the confusing of right with wrong, the undisciplined permissiveness which disregards established values, betrays our young people and undermines the quality of our national life.

We women of all ages, from every sphere, realize our responsibility for maintaining standards of integrity. We recognize the need to speak out courageously for what is right.

E Whakapono ana mātou ki a Niu Tīreni, ki tōna kaha ki te ngaki tōtika i roto i ngā take nunui o te ao. E whakapono ana mātou ki ngā wāhine o Niu Tīreni ka taea e rātou te rangaranga o nga wāhi katoa o te ora o te iwi.

E āwangawanga ana mātou mō ngā hahani o tēnei rā, mō te hanuminga i te tika me te hē, mō te āe hātepe e whakanoa nei i ngā wāriu tūturu, e tuku nei i ā tātou taitamariki, ā, e huke nei i te mauri o tā tātou noho-ā-iwi.

Ko mātou wāhine o ngā tātai katoa, o ngā wāhi katoa, e mōhio ana ki te pīkaunga kei a mātou hei pupuri i ngā tauira o te toitū tangata. E whakaae ana mātou kia māia anō te kōrero mō ngā mea tika.

THEREFORE
WE PLEDGE OURSELVES

To live the discipline we expect of our families;

To create the home-life that cherishes and inspires; and

To do our part to help build a society where truth and right prevail.

NĀ REIRA
KA ŌATI MĀTOU

Ki te noho i te tauira e manako nei mātou i ō mātou whānau;

Ki te hanga i te ora-ā-kāinga ko te aroha nei ko te wana tōna mauri; ā,

Ki te tautoko i te hanga o tētahi rōpū ko te pono me te tika ia te mana.

– 22 –

I Remember

I remember what it is to have, and be content.

We were children then; a big family, with aunts, uncles, and all the host in and around the pa, and for miles. What we had was the sun and rain and the passing seasons. Out of the land and the sea our fathers and mothers brought us our plenty. And listen: they had the true counsel of our old people, who loved the wisdom of the Bible.

In those days, perhaps it was that democracy was being kind. Anyway, our parents managed life simply. As a part of communal living, they pooled their profits. They gathered together their resources of man and horse-power to build on their lands, which were not extensive. And they found out the tools and knowledge, and goodwill of the Pakeha. Surely for them it was not unrewarding struggle, or poverty.

We children were educated, barely but somewhat comfortably, holding our teachers in awe. They were Pakeha — beings apart; but did teach us to lean a little on books and learning. Though I remember someone saying they did not know everything!

Outstanding in my memories of those childhood days is that we did not miss the money that we lacked. Possibly a few had an amount saved up in an old tin, which they trusted better than the bank. Just as likely would be debt and mortgage, that is, such as could be held on Maori land. But most pleasantly, we had all we needed, even to abundance.

Other wider horizons our people did know. Some went away, and a few came back to enrich our scope of living. Many a time a bus was hired to take us to far places to mourn or to celebrate with others. Or to a race-meeting. Today it is said that these occasions have become our addiction; but thus it is how the years have wrought to us. In those days they were just natural to a lively culture.

Yes, that short time ago, we had a culture and its vital language. Maybe primitive, perhaps simple, but our tipunas (our forefathers) knew its value, that gave them pride and standing when first a people of civilisation confronted them. Nor were they overwhelmed. And does it not speak for them that they so quickly reached out towards the Gospel?

In my memory are some of those tipunas who rated Truth so highly. Day and night they studied it. And so did they test and try it. Strangers and travellers walking by on the road were brought into the pa to share all our abundance, and to pass on only when they were rested and refreshed. Those tipunas of ours gathered all the tribe together for daily worship. Then when the young ones pushed out onto the land to bring up families, those elders still kept us to remember our God.

Now our old and wise have passed away. We did mourn them for a little, those old white heads and beards and dark mokomokos; but some day even their tokotokos, the walking sticks that were their strength and support in harangue and oratory — and on our mischievous child legs — will even they be cast away?

So do we impoverish ourselves.

Authoresses beheld little beauty in those my people of the generation and two past, but sometimes tears for them fall in my heart. They left to us a heritage of some worth, and we could not — nay rather, will not defend it! Our Maoritanga is dying in us; it is so little our pride to hand on. Do I not see this careless generation taking it to their grave?

And oh! What then for the children bearing our brown skin?

– 23 –

Huria's Rock

Old now these bones of mine and one leg with a stick to help it, old now. He sits, this old one with his stick, on the beach and the agar about him all spread to dry. It is good, the stick, to turn the spread agar and to poke the ashes around the big camp oven.

She makes the camp oven bread, my daughter, in the morning early, as did the mother before her. Good bread, this of the camp oven, and the work of this old one to poke the ashes and turn the spread agar with the stick.

Too old now these bones and this leg for the work of young days, and so they go, those of young days to collect the agar from the sea, while this old one he tends the fire and with the stick turns the agar to dry. His work too, to guard the little one who sleeps there in the tent. A great-grandson this, who sleeps on his rug in the tent. He wakes, this young one then it is the work of this old one to wave his stick for the mother to come and tend him. But no — sleeps the little one, Sleeps he.

Soon they will return, those who gather agar, with kits full and backs tired. Back to camp to rest and eat, then before night-fall to pick up the dried agar and tramp it into the bale. Then to get ready the beds in the tent and then to sleep, for it is much work this gathering of agar.

Many years now since last we came to camp and gather agar here. Young days then I, and the leg without a stick to help it. Two good legs then, and a back strong. Two good eyes, and the hands to pull the agar from the warm sea.

But a sad time that, when last we came to this place. She died here, my wife, when last we came. Drowned she, under crayfish rock, now named Huria's rock for her. No more to that rock since then for crayfish. We leave it to her, to Huria — it is her resting place.

It was big, the crowd that came that year for agar. A good tide that day — the day she died — and the top of crayfish rock showing above the water. Many were there gathering the agar in shallow water, but Huria she took her kit and started out to crayfish rock and took our boy with her. We who picked the agar could see the boy sitting on the rock with the kit, and many times Huria came to him with crayfish.

A good day for crayfish this, thought I. A good day and a good time.

Then looked again to the rock, and the boy he stood looking into the water. Waiting and looking, with the crayfish from the kit crawling about him on the rock. To the rock then I, calling her name. The others, they left the agar and came behind me for they had seen the spilled crayfish and the boy waiting and looking down into the sea.

A sad time this. Caught in a crack of the rock we found her, and much work it was to free her for we who mourned.

Lonely years since then for this old one who sits now on the beach. But she will come soon, Huria for the old one with the stick. She will come for he who looks to her rock and thinks of her, while those of young days gather agar from the sea.

Look now, to Huria's rock thinking of Huria, and now I see her sitting there on the rock. Look away then I, for they are old now, these eyes. But then back again to the rock and still she sits. It is Huria. She has come.

‘For me then?’ I call. But her head is turned away.

‘Huria, Huria,’ but she looks not at me.

‘It is time then, for this old one?’ I say.

But she moves then, Huria. Puts out her hand to the tent, looking at the tent. To the tent then I, quickly, with the stick working for the leg. Into the tent. But he sleeps, the little one, sleeps peacefully. Out then

– 24 –

and looking to the rock, and still she sits Huria, still she looks to the tent.

‘Sleeping, the young one,’ I call. ‘Come not for the young but the old.’

Then stands Huria, and moves nearer, looking to the tent.

Quickly then I to the lagoon where they gather agar, and wave my stick. She waves, the mother of the little one and comes to me.

‘He is sick, the little one. Go to your baby,’ I say.

Drops the kit of agar then, and runs to the tent.

‘He sleeps, Grandpa,’ she calls from the tent.

‘Go to him,’ I say. ‘He is sick. Huria, she comes for the little one.’ I show her Huria but she does not see.

‘You sit too much in the sun Grandpa,’ she says. ‘And you think too much of Huria. It was wrong to come to this place for agar. It was bad to bring you here.’

‘Huria she is close,’ I say to her, and I pull her into the tent with me, to the little one.

Screams then, and pulls my stick from my hand.

‘The spider Grandpa — the katipo,’ and beats at the blanket where sleeps the young one. Beats and beats the katipo with the stick. Picks up the little one then as he wakes and cries.

‘Safe my baby,’ she says. ‘Our Grandpa has saved you. Safe now,’ says she.

Out then I, to look for one who gave us warning. But gone, Huria. Gone she who helped the old one guard the young.

But he is tired, the old one, Tired. And soon she will be back. Huria, for the old one with the stick.

Soon she comes.

Fashion Award

A young Taumarunui Maori fashion designer, Mrs Anne Rupe, is making her name on the national scene.

At the New Zealand Fashion Showcase ‘69, an annual event for New Zealand fashion designers and manufacturers, she won the award for the coat and suit section.

Mrs Rupe's entry was a street length winter coat in orange and white wool with a cone shaped skirt beneath. The skirt had an inverted pleat in the back and a set-in belted waistline with two flat pockets.

The material for the outfit was hand loomed in a twill pattern by Mr Bill Penny, Tokirima, to Mrs Rupe's design.

Mrs Rupe designed the gown and suit worn by Mrs Martha Taiaroa when she won the Mrs Taumarunui title in the local section of the National Plunket Society — sponsored ‘Mrs New Zealand’ contest.

Mrs Rupe has a selection of garments she designed, being displayed on a cruise ship and in South America by a New Zealand model.

The Highway

Hemi drives the bulldozer
How easily he handles
the huge machine.
It revolves
in its own length.
With a roaring motor
it attacks the boulders,
and the tree stumps.
Clouds of dust rise.
Stones roll across the soil.
The unreclaimed ground
smoothes out like a blanket.
Future generations
travelling swiftly —
in comfort —
will not know Hemi,
but they will say,
‘This is a fine highway.’

Marie Andersen

– 25 –

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Judge and Mrs Jeune receive the staff's parting gift from Mr J. M. McEwen

Chief Judge Retires

Judge G. J. Jeune, Chief Judge of the Maori Land Court, was farewelled at a function in Ngati Poneke Hall in May. He was retiring after 10 years as a Puisne Judge of the Maori Land Court, and five years as Chief Judge.

Tributes were paid by Mr D. J. Stewart, Mr F. B. Katene, Judge A. M. Brook, and Mr J. M. McEwen, Secretary for Maori and Island Affairs. Gifts included a typewriter and an oil painting, a view of Wellington Harbour as seen from Judge and Mrs Juene's Wellington home. As they were intending to retire to Gisborne, this would serve as a reminder of their years in Wellington.

The new Chief Judge is Mr A. G. Todd, who retired from the Law Drafting Office in May 1968, where he had been employed since 1934. During World War II, he served with the New Zealand Division in the Middle East and Italy, first in the Artillery, and then at Divisional Headquarters, where he was extensively employed in court martial work, as counsel for soldiers.

Since the war, Judge Todd has been in charge of the drafting of all legislation concerning Maoris.

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The new Chief Judge, Mr A. G. Todd
National Publicity Studios

– 26 –

Maoris and Technical Education

This is the first of four articles about the new polytechnics and the opportunities they offer to young Maoris in search of training.

The number of students being taught in polytechnics (technical institutes) has

Picture icon

National Publicity Studios photographs
One of the new Technical Institutes at Auckland

risen rapidly in the last few years. Yet very few Maoris are to be found in these new institutes except in a few special areas where training schemes have been arranged with the Department of Maori and Island Affairs.

There's nothing strange about this absence of Maori students. Most people don't even know what polytechnics are. This is understandable also because they're still very new, less than ten years old. They're to be found in the four main centres only, and Hamilton since last year. City people have a better chance of knowing something about them but people living in the country may never hear much about them.

And because most Maoris either live in rural areas or are newly arrived in the cities the name ‘polytechnic’ often doesn't mean much.

And just exactly what are they?

Polytechnics are places where people of all ages can learn skills which will help them to get or hold a job by which they can earn a living. They are educational institutions run by the Government where people can be trained for an occupation.

The training given covers a wide range. There are trade courses for apprentices in

– 27 –

carpentry, motor mechanics, electrical work, panel-beating, paper-hanging and many other jobs.

There are courses for people wanting to work in offices or in commerce; in shorthand and typing, in business management, in accountancy, and in salesmanship. And there are other courses for those wanting to be technicians, draughtsmen, computer programmers, clothing designers, journalists, or graphic and industrial designers.

In the polytechnics the word ‘technician’ is used to describe people who are given a higher and more advanced level of training than a tradesman receives. The technician stands about mid-way — in terms of training — between the university graduate who can be described as a technologist, and a tradesman.

The biggest increase over recent years in the number of students and courses has been in this technician field — which is open to both boys and girls. Because it is still so new Maoris tend to know less about it than trade training, and so very few are enrolled in technician classes.

Polytechnic students have about only two things in common. They have all left school and they're all training for jobs. Otherwise they're very different in age, in occupation, in educational background, and in the sort of course they're doing.

Some come for full-time courses of one year, or two, or three, or four. Others — the big majority — are already working for some organisation and so come only part-time for perhaps four or eight hours a week. Other part-timers come for as many as 14 or 16 hours a week, depending on the type of course they're doing.

Entry into courses varies a lot also. For some a student needs a good educational qualification such as passes in certain subjects at School Certificate or University Entrance level. These would be needed for technician and some full-time courses.

Two, but preferably three, years secondary schooling is sufficient for most trade courses, though today there is a tendency for some employers to ask for good results at School Certificate level as well.

But though entry standards vary, one thing can be said for certain; the better a student does at secondary school the better chance he, or she, has of coping with the more specialised training at a polytechnic.

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Architectural students at a ‘Polytech’

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FARM TRAINING INSTITUTE

Special arrangements have been made by the Department of Maori and Island Affairs for a small group of boys to enter the Telford Farm Training Institute at Balclutha each year.

This in an excellent opportunity for Maori boys to obtain sound training in all important aspects of farming. The course lasts one year, students being taken into the Institute each January and May.

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Students at Telford engaged on theoretical work

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Telford History

Mr William Telford, an early pioneer in South Otago came from Cumberland in England to Australia, and then on to New Zealand, landing at Bluff in 1867. He purchased land on the southern bank of the Clutha between the Waitepeka and Puerua Streams. Slowly he acquired several thousand acres which included native grasslands, bush and swamp. Under Mr Telford's direction, tussocklands were ploughed and grassed, swamplands were developed, and his steading became a centre in the district.

The magnificent homestead was built in 1869 with a local stone quarried and expertly shaped, along with Oamaru limestone brought down the coast and ferried up the Puerua Stream. A large woolshed and eight-horse stable was built at the same time from bricks fired on the property.

Mr Thomas Telford, son of the pioneer, continued the development work. He constructed stopbanks down the Puerua and installed flood-gates to assist in the drainage of what has become the rich dairy farming area of Paretai. Over the years the Telford family have been renowned for their Hereford cattle and they have maintained a strong affection for the Kent Romney Marsh sheep. It was Mr William Telford of the third generation who left 1,600 acres of farmlands for the betterment of these two breeds, and the Institute in its farming programme will always give them pride of place.

With the sanction of Miss Jane Telford and Mrs William Telford the trustees in 1964 made the property available for the establishment of this Institute.

The Property

The farm has a total area of 1,610 acres and can be divided into three classes of country. Wide-topped ridges run back behind the buildings to make an area of easy

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Practical work in the shearing sheds for Chris Albert, the first Maori student sponsored by the Maori and Island Affairs Department

rolling country well suited for sheep and mixed cropping. Around the buildings the land is flatter and is particularly suited to cropping, prime lamb farming and dairying. About 150 acres of swamp land has been developed for dairying and beef cattle rearing.

Such a property four miles from Balclutha and half a mile from a freezing works is ideally located and suited for the diversified farming necessary for the instruction of students.

Stock

A large part of the property is devoted to sheep, and 4,000 Romney breeding ewes and a supporting flock of hoggets are carried. This number of sheep provides very adequately for the training of students in

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sheep management and in shearing and wool handling which is taught in a modern six-stand shed. A small Romney stud flock has been established through the generosity of members of the Romney Marsh Breed Society.

Two hundred and sixty acres are devoted largely to dairying. The herd has been developed from donated weaned calves which have come from all the dairying districts of Otago and Southland. At present one hundred cows are being milked, but this will grow to one hundred and fifty. A modern herringbone shed with round yard provides excellent facilities for student instruction. A piggery unit is at present under construction. A small Hereford stud is also being developed and already seven heifers and the use of a stud sire have been given by Breed Society Members.

Cropping

A cropping programme involving nearly four hundred acres gives excellent opportunity for student training. Wheat, oats and barley are grown as cash crops, and swede, turnips, choumoellier and rape for stock feeding. The handling and maintenance of machinery is an important part of the course.

The Hostel

The students are under the general supervision of the Warden who lives in the hostel. The Principal lives immediately adjacent to this building. Each student has a bed-study cubicle and he is required to keep it clean and tidy. Lounge, reading and recreation rooms provide for periods of relaxation. Accommodation is available for about 60 students in two drafts.

Recreation

Ample opportunity exists for students to organise their own sporting, hobby cultural activities, and every encouragement is given to this end.

Leave

Leave is given at week-ends as freely as possible to all students not involved in farm duties.

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Practical training is given in all types of farm work. This student is towing a chisel-plough to break up ground in preparation for sowing

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Students' Association

The students have their own association and appoint officers to carry responsibilities. The President and Executive Committee are responsible for the general organisation of the association and each club has its own committee.

Rugby, Indoor Basketball and Table Tennis are played in the winter and Swimming and Athletics are organised during the summer. Social evenings are organised by the Social Committee and a ball is held at the completion of each course. The Young Farmers' Club is active, and the students benefit from participation in district competitions in debating, stock-judging and shooting.

School Syllabus

Students at Telford spend alternate weeks on the farms and in lectures. They receive intensive practical and theoretical training in all aspects of sheep and dairy farming, including important related subjects such as:

Soils and Manures
Agricultural Botany
Farm Forestry
Pastures
Crops
Animal Husbandry
Farm Accounting
Farm Management and
Farm Engineering and Construction

Special Financial Help

Maori boys selected for training at the Institute can obtain special financial assistance from the Department of Maori and Island Affairs. This includes the payment of board and school fees at the Institute — about $550.00 for each student — and the payment of travelling expenses from their homes to Balclutha. Each Maori student also receives $4.00 weekly by way of pocket money and the Department will help with the purchase of school and working clothing, where required.

Entry Qualifications

Boys interested in training at the Institute should have completed at least three years secondary education and preferably

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Another branch of training, farm engineering

should have passes in some School Certificate subjects. They should be not less than 16 years of age and should have a definite inclination to take up a farm career.

Future Employment Prospects

On completion of one year's training at the Institute, the Maori students can be placed in the Federated Farmers' Farm Cadet Schemes for two years' further training and experience, or in other suitable farm employment.

Maori graduates from the Institute would have very good prospects for future employment with the Department, with Maori Incorporations on Crown properties, or with private employers, as well as good sharemilking opportunities.

Applications

Fuller information about how to enter this worthwhile farm training scheme can be obtained from the nearest office of the Department of Maori and Island Affairs.

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The Rev. Wera Couch speaking during the Saturday evening banquet. At his left are Queen Te Atairangikaahau and Mr Whatumoana Paki

Rapaki Church Centennial

The centenary celebrations of the historic church at Rapaki, Lyttelton, were held during the weekend 3–4 May. Distinguished guests were welcomed to the marae on Saturday morning, and after a relaxing afternoon, sat down to a magnificent banquet in the evening.

Guests of honour were Queen Te Atairangikaahu and her husband Mr Whatumoana Paki, accompanied by a large party from Waikato. Three local members of Parliament, Mr N. Kirk, Mrs W. Tirikatene-Sullivan and Mr H. J. Walker, the Mayor of Lyttelton, Mr J. B. Collett, the chairman and councillors of the Mount Herbert County Council, and representatives of local churches were among the 500 who attended. The Bishop of Aotearoa, the Rt Rev. Manu Bennett, also called at the marae.

After the meal, speeches and entertainment went on for three hours, many paying tribute to the work of those living at Rapaki, and recalling events of past days.

Two services were held on Sunday, one of ‘Thanksgiving and Re-Dedication’ at 10 a.m., and another of ‘Remembrance and Dedication to Service’ at 2.30 p.m. Some of the ministers taking part were the Rev. Rangi Rogers, senior Maori Methodist Minister, the Rev. Ruawai Rakena, assistant head of the Methodist Maori Mission, the Rev. Maaka Mete of the Anglican Church, Rev. Moke Couch, and the Rev. Dr M. A. McDowell, who spoke at the afternoon service.

A delicious hangi meal was served during the interval, and girls from Te Waipounamu, led by Ngatai Huata, provided informal entertainment.

Local residents expressed their gratitude to the staff of the Christchurch Technical Institute and the Maori boys in the painting and paperhanging course, who had completely repainted the church and hall, as one of their projects.

From a booklet prepared for the centennial by Mr Wera Couch, kaumatua of Rapaki, we give some of the history of the

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Three of the Waikato kuias, from left, Miss Rua Katipa, Mrs Mahara and Mrs Tiamana Rua

little settlement and its church.

‘Rapaki was founded by a Ngaitahu explorer named Te Rangiwhakaputa, who on landing from his canoe on the foreshore, took off his rapaki, his waist mat, and laid it on the ground as his claim to the area. The full name of the settlement is Te Rapaki o Te Rangiwhakaputa. When he moved on to claim other areas, he left his son Wheke to establish the settlement, and his name is commemorated in the name Te Wheke given to the hall and marae.

‘In 1948, the Maori Reserve of Rapaki, comprising 850 acres, was set aside, and ownership granted to about 70 people.

‘The Christian message was first preached to the South Island Maoris in 1839 by Taawao, and in 1844 the Wesleyan Mission Staff in New Zealand recommended that a Maori Mission be established at Rapaki,

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Part of the congregation outside the church

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Mr Henare Tuwhangai thanks the local people on behalf of Tuheita, son of Queen Te Atairangikaahu, for their gift of a cake modelled after the Rapaki church

and the work was carried out by Taawao and Hohepa. In 1865, the Rev. Te Kooti Rato, an ordained minister, was appointed to reside at Rapaki, and take over the work of the Maori Department of the Wesleyan Church in Canterbury and Otago.

‘Following his appointment, the people of Rapaki decided to build a church, and this was completed at a cost of £159, and opened on 4 May, 1869. Anglican, Presbyterian and Methodist ministers together conducted the service, and hymns were sung in both Maori and English by the large congregation, inside and outside the church. Visitors were then invited to a tent and regaled with an abundant supply of refreshments.’

Those who attended the centennial celebrations will realise how closely this opening service was repeated 100 years later, together with the refreshments, and thank the people of Rapaki for their hospitality.

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Opening the hangi on Sunday

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photographs by M. Fraser
Bishop Bennett dedicates the new dining hall. At his left are Mr N. Kirk, Sir Turi Carroll, Dr Pei Te Hurinui Jones, the Rev. Sam Rangiihu and Mrs W. Tirikatene-Sullivan

The Takitimu meeting house at Wairoa now has a new dining hall, replacing the temporary building used since the opening of the house in 1938.

Visitors from Hawke's Bay, the East Coast and many parts of the country were welcomed by a group from the Tuai-Waikaremoana district.

The Leader of the Opposition, Mr Norman Kirk, and the Member for Southern Maori, Mrs Whetu Tirikatene-Sullivan, officiated in opening the hall, which was blessed by the Bishop of Aotearoa, the Rt Rev. Manu Bennett.

The new dining hall, which adjoins the Takitimu meeting house, was erected at a cost of $46,000.

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The Waikaremoana concert party welcoming visitors

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People and Places

Concert at Hato Paora

Present pupils and staff of St Paul's College, Parorangi, Feilding, were delighted to welcome to the College a band formed by several old boys, to take part in a concert organised to raise funds for two new classrooms recently built. The leader of the band, ‘The Guardians’, is John Ropata, who works in the Maori Programme section of the New Zealand Broadcasting Corporation. The boys perform regularly at ‘Maximes’, a Wellington Restaurant, and their pleasant music is much appreciated.

They are, from left, Joe Patea, John Ropata, Huck Ropiha, Stan White and Ron Williams.

Our second photograph shows the combined school, who concluded the concert with a bracket of songs, after the senior and junior action song groups had entertained. Those who attended were delighted with the variety and quality of the performance.

Concert Party at Bangkok

The Maori Concert Party of the First Battalion, Royal New Zealand Infantry Regi-

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ment, completed a seven-day visit to Hong Kong and Bangkok on 2 April, with one of several performances. Here the New Zea- land Ambassador to Thailand, Mr I. G. L. Stewart, is welcoming the group. The ten men and six ‘service wives’ drew capacity crowds at all their performances. Next day they were due to return to duty at Terendak, Malaysia.

Vietnam Padre

Padre W. Vercoe (at right), chats with Lance-Corporal R. N. Bush of Pukekohe, at the Nui Dat base of the Anzac Battalion, in Phouc Tuy, Souh Vietnam, before Corporal Bush left on his way back to Malyasia with the Victor Company of the Royal New Zealand Infantry Regiment.

Padre Vercoe has a huge parish, extending half the entire length of South Vietnam, from Phouc Tuy province and Saigon in the south, to Binh Dinh province in the Central Highlands — wherever New Zealand troops or civilians are working.

He spends most of his time with the combat troops on the field, and has accompanied them on all of their major operations, coming under fire himself on a number of occasions.

Well-liked by the troops because of the way he has lived and worked with them in all conditions, Padre Vercoe has been the mainstay of the Maori Concert Party, and is also active in civil assistance work in the villages near Nui Dat. He makes regular visits to the civilian and military medical teams in Qui Nhon and Bong Son, and to the Headquarters element of New Zealand Force in Saigon.

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continued from page 20

tekau mā toru mano koēa māero (113,000 sq. miles), ko New Mexico, kotahi rau, e rua tekau mā tahi mano koēa māero (121,000 sq. miles), ko Niu Tīreni, nei, arā, ko Aotearoa, Te Waipounamu me Wharekauri kotahi rau mā toru mano koēa māero (103,000 sq. miles).

Koinei rā ko Gallup ka tomo atu mātou ki New Mexico, ā, nā te tangata nei nā Lawrence Geshey, o te Nāwaho iwi, ā, he Kaitohutohu o te Community Action Programme — he Rōpū Rangaranga-ā-iwi — nāna mātou i taki atu ki tō mātou mōtēra. I konei, i Gallup, ka whakawhitiwhiti motokā tō mātou hoa, a Myron Jones, i te mate o tētahi o ō mātou waka, ko te rironga mai o tētahi waka a te Ford Motors, ō mātou waka kē hoki i te tīmatanga atu he Chrysler kē. I konei ka haere mātou ki te torotoro i ngā kura i kōrerotia ake rā e au, arā, i te kāreti o Many Farms, me te kura mō ngā tamariki ririki i Rough Rock, ā, ki te mātakitaki whenua hoki mā mātou. Heoi anō te mahi he whakamīharo ki te nui o te whenua, ki ngā mano eka koraha, ki ngā toka-tū-whenua e kīia nei e rātou he Mēha (mesa), ki ngā mano toka pēnei, ki te nunui me te maha, me te hōhonu rawa c ngā whāruarua, te teitei o ngā pari kōhatu, i hoki mai ai ngā whakaaro ki te wā kāinga, ki ngā kōrero, ki ngā whakataukī, ‘Ko mea te maunga, ko mea te awa, ko mea te tangata.’ Whakamataku ana, āno he tipua, he taniwha.

I te 25 o Pepuere, he Tūrei, kātahi anō mātou ka haere atu ki te Rāhui tuatahi o ngā kiriwhero e kīia nei he Pewepero (Pueblo). Ko tēnei te Rāhui Zuni. Tokorua ngā kiriwhero o te rōpū ki Niu Tīreni nei nō tēnei karangatanga, arā, ko Seferino Tenorio o te Rāhui Santo Domingo, ko Roger Tsabetsaye o te Rāhui Zuni, anei hoki te tuatoru, ko Joe Sando o te Rāhui Jemez.

Tekau mā iwa katoa ngā Rāhui Pewepero,

 

and New Mexico 121,000 sq. miles, whilst New Zealand with its three major islands make up together 103,000 sq. miles.

So at Gallup we had really entered New Mexico, escorted by Lawrence Geshey, a member of the Navajo tribe and a Director of the Community Action Programme, who directed us to our motel. At Gallup, Myron Jones exchanged one of our cars for a more reliable one which happened to be a Ford whereas, peculiarly enough, we had started out with Chryslers. With this as our base we visited the Many Farms and Rough Rock schools already described, and also went sightseeing. We marvelled at the vastness of the desert land, at the beauty of its many mesas stretching for miles, at the terrific size, and frightening depths and countless number of valleys, at the high rocky precipices, all of which recalled to mind the ancient Maori sayings, ‘So and so is the Mountain, so and so is the River (or sea or lake), and so and so is the Man’. These tremendous formations of nature are aweinspiring and yet symbolic of great leadership.

On 25 February, Tuesday, we made our introductions to the first of our Red Indian Pueblo Reservations, namely Zuni. Two of the party to New Zealand were of the Pueblos, Seferino Tenorio of the Santo Domingo Reservation, and Roger Tsabetsaye

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Canon Hepa Taepa, author of this article, with Roger Tsabetsaye, expert jewellery-maker, outside Arohanui-ki-te-Tangata, Waiwhetu

 
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ā, kei roto katoa i te whenua o New Mexico. Engari, o ēnei tekau mā iwa Rāhui, e whā rawa ngā reo o ēnei karangatanga, ko te Keresan, Tiwa, Tewa, Towa. He rerekē anō tēnā reo, tēnā reo, i ēnā reo. E ai te kī tēnei, ko te kaute o ngā iwi kiriwhero e toru rau, rerekē, rerekē, tētahi i tētahi. E whā tekau mā whā ngā reo o ngā iwi toru rau nei. Engari, ngā tokoiwa kiriwhero i haere mai nei, e ono rawa ngā reo o taua rōpū, ā, waimarie nā te reo Pākehā ka mōhiohio rātou ki a rātou, tēnā e kore rawa, i te rerekē o ō rātou reo.

Ka mawehe mai mātou i Gallup, tau rawa mai ki Zuni Rāhui. I konei ka mihia rawatia mātou e ō rātou koeke. I konei hoki ka āhua uru mai anō te whakaaro whakamataku, i te noho mai a aua kaumātua. Haunga tō rātou Māngai, a Robert Lewis, nāna nei ngā kōrero i wāhi, he mātau tonu hoki ki te reo Pākehā, ā, nāna ngā kōrero a tō rātou kaumātua i whakapākehā mai. Ko te noho mai a aua kaumātua nei anō he mākutu tonu mai, koinei ka whakatūpato anō, i te mōhio ake koa kei te ao tawhito tonu te iwi nei e noho ana. I reira anō ka manaakitia mātou, whāngai rawatia anō, kātahi anō mātou ka takina atu ki tā rātou nei whare hokohoko, heoi anō kia kite ai mātou i ā rātou mahi, i ā rātou nei raranga, whakairo, mahi-ā-ringa hei hoko-hoko ki ngā tūruhi. I konei ka toko ake te whakaaro ki tētahi aroha mā mātou ki tō mātou kaiārahi, ki a Myron Jones, i tana pai ki te tiaki haere mai i a mātou, ā, tae noa mai ki taua wā. Ka hokona mai tētahi here mō tana wati. Taua here nei ka kitea tonutia iho te ringa o te tohunga, ā, he hiriwa whakatakoto rawatia atu ki roto he kōhatu, he turquoise taua kōhatu, ko tāna nei ko tā te kiriwhero kurutongarerewa. Ā, koinei tā matou aroha ki tō mātou kaitiaki i a mātou, ā, nō te taenga anō ki tō mātou mōtēra i tētahi tāone nui anō hoki, ki Albuquerque, kātahi anō ka tukuna atu e mātou tā mātou aroha. Kore noa iho te tangata nei i mōhio me aha he kōrero māna, wahangū tonu atu, i te hiahia hoki ki te tangi i te aroha.

I a mātou ka maunu mai i Zuni, ka haere mai i runga huarahi, ā, ka tae ki tētahi pekanga, ka kī atu ahau ki a Myron Jones kia tū ia tō mātou waka. Ka whakaaro he aha hoki tēnei. Ehara kua kite kē atu te tohu i te huarahi, arā, ko te Ara Nama Ono Tekau mā Ono, o te Terewihana. Ka

 
 

of the Zuni Reservation, and there was a third, Joe Sando of the Jemez Reservation.

There are nineteen Pueblo Reservations and all are in the State of New Mexico. But of these nineteen there are four different languages, the Keres, the Tiwa, the Tewa and the Towa. Each of these languages is quite distinct from the others. According to records, the total number of Indian tribes in the States is 300, with many distinct languages. Of these 300 tribes there are forty-four different languages, not dialects, so these peoples may be looked on as nations and not as tribes as we know them. But the nine who did make the visit to New Zealand had among them six different languages; however, fortunately they had one language known to them all, namely, the English language, otherwise they would never have been able to communicate with one another.

From Gallup then we came to Zuni Reservation where we were received by the tribal elders. It was here that I felt some misgivings about the manner of the older men. Robert Lewis, who opened the speeches was very good, and fluent in English. It was he who interpreted the elders' speech to us. The disturbing thing about the older men was their attitude; it seemed as though they were ready to perform witch-craft, the practice of former days. Never-theless such misgivings were unfounded, for they received us hospitably, fed us, and then conducted us to their trading store, where we saw their weaving, carving and handicrafts for selling to tourists. Here one of us conceived the idea of making a presentation to our consultant, Myron Jones, for his landness to us up to that moment. So a watch band was purchased, a band made of silver with the precious turquoise stone expertly inlaid into the silver metal. That stone, of course, was to the Indian what the precious greenstone is to the Maori. This was our gift to our consultant and confidant, and this was presented to him when we settled in at our motel in the City of Albuquerque. He was dumbfounded. and so overcome was he, that he could not find words, for he was also on the verge of tears.

When we left Zuni we arrived at a signpost where I requested Myron Jones to stop our car. They wondered what was the reason. I had already noticed the signpost,

 
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tata atu ki Albuquerque tāone, ka whakaaturia mai e Myron Jones tētahi pā tūwatawata āno e tairanga mai ana i runga maunga kōhatu, he pā nui tonu, he pā kotahi mano tau te tawhito. Ko taua maunga pōhatu nei ko Akoma (Acoma), tōna tikanga o taua ingoa ke ‘Te iwi o te Pōhatu Mā’. Tōna reo he Keresan, te kaute o tōna iwi e rua mano, e whā rau, e rua tekau mā tahi. Tona tairanga ake e toru rau ono tekau mā rima putu, ā, he pā tino nui rawa atu, ātaahua hoki ina tirohia atu i tawhiti. He mēha (mesa) te pōhatu nei, he pēnei me tētahi maunga pōhatu nui whaka-harahara, e hia ngā rau eka, ā, ko runga rawa o taua maunga nei he pāraharaha. Nō taua mēha te ingoa o taua Rāhui, arā, Acoma, ‘Te iwi o te Pōhatu Mā’, i te komā o taua Pōhatu-tū-whenua. Haere tonu mātou, ā, tae noa ki tō mātou mōtēra i Albuquerque, he tāone e rua rau mā tahi mano tāngata, me tōna whare wānanga ātaahua hoki. I konei ka hoki ngā whakaaro ki ngā kōrero a Kara Puketapu ki a mātou mō tēnei tāone nui, te rite o Pōneke ki taua takiwā. He tika tonu hoki, E rima rawa ō mātou rā ki konei, i kite ai mātou i tētahi o ngā awa rongonui o Āmerika, arā, i te Rio Grande; i tūtakitaki ai ki ngā māngai whakahaere tikanga mō ngā kiriwhero o tērā whenua o New Mexico, ō rātou kaiwhakahaere i ō rātou kura ririki, kura nunui, arā, ngā kāreti, ō rātou whare wānanga, i kite ai mātou i te noho a te kiriwhero i roto i ō rātou Rāhui, i te noho a te kiriwhero i roto tāone nunui, i te noho a te Pākehā hoki, te noho a ēnei iwi i te awatea, i te pō. I kite ai i te hiahia o te Pākehā o ērā takiwā ki te manaaki i te tangata, arā, i tō mātou tira.

I New Mexico ka tae mātou ki ngā Rāhui Pewepero o Santa Fe, te tāone rongonui o ngā pikitia kaupoi, ā, i tēnei rā, tāone nui mō ana kura me ngā mahi e mahia ana i rō kura, ngā tūmanakoranga o ngā kaiako, kia mau tō rātou nei Māori-tanga, ngā āhuatanga katoa huhua o taua Māoritanga kia kaua e ngaro i roto i ngā wāhi ako tamariki, mai ka tīmata atu te tamaiti ki te kōrero, ā, pakeke noa. Koinei ngā kaupapa a ngā kiriwhero o ngā

 
 

Highway Number Sixty-Six, of television fame. As we drew nearer to Albuquerque City Myron pointed out a landmark, a fort high up on a mesa, a huge fortification over a thousand years old. This mesa was called Acoma, meaning, ‘The People of the White Rock’. The language of these people was Keresan and its population was 2,421. It rose to 365 feet, and its fort, held aloft in all its beauty, was from the distance, a magnificent sight. This mesa was a huge rocky mountain of several hundred acres, with a flat table-like top. From that mesa originated the name of the Reservation, that is, Acoma, ‘The People of the White Rock’ because of the whitish appearance of the rocky landmark. We continued to our motel at Albuquerque, a city of 201,000 people, with a beautiful university also. Kara Puketapu's words about this city and how like Wellington it was, were brought to mind here. For there was truth in this. We spent five days here, so that we saw the world-famous river, the Rio Grande. We met also administrators of the New Mexico Reservations, directors of their schools, Head Start, primary and secondary, also of their university, so that we met too the Indian in their own Reservations, in urban areas, and saw as well, life at night and during the day. There also we saw the sincere desire of the Pakeha to extend the hand of friendship to our party.

In New Mexico we were able to visit the Pueblo of Santa Fe, this town of western fame, but today important for its adventurous

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Indian artifacts from the North Pacific Coast

 
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kāreti me ngā kura, pēnei me Lloyd New, me Jim McGrath, me Marilyn Black, he Pākehā tēnei, me te huhua noa iho.

Tae rawa mātou ki runga, ki te nōta, ki te Rāhui o ngā Taos, tētahi o ngā takataka-hanga o te tangata rongonui o roto pikitia, arā, o Kit Carson, he toa ki te eke hōiho, ki te takahurihuri pū, ki te whakaū i te ture. I konei utu rawa mātou, kātahi anō ka tomo atu ki te pā o te Taos. O rātou kāinga he mea mahi mai i te uku, i te kōhatu, e rua, e toru rawa ngā whakapaparanga whare. I tupu mai i ēnei whare te ingoa mō tō rātou nei pā nohonga, arā, te kupu nei te Pewepero (Pueblo). I kō kē hoki, tū ai ngā kāinga nei me ō rātou whakapaparanga i runga mēha (mesa), pēnei anō me ō tātou nei pā, nō nāianoa nei ka heke iho i ngā hiwi, i ngā maunga, i ngā wāhi teitei, nō te maunga o te rongo.

I te Rāhoroi, 1 Maehe, ka haria mātou i te ata, ki tētahi Rāhui ko Santa Felipe te ingoa. I te pā nui tonu o taua Rāhui ka kite mātou i te ope nei, nuku atu i te kotahi rau, e whakaeke mai ana ki tō rātou marae. He koēa nei te hanga o taua marae, ā whakapipi tonu ngā whare huri noa.

Ka whakaeke mai taua ope me te pakupakū mai o ā rātou pū, āno nei e ngeri haere mai ana, e pōkeka haere mai ana. Tau ana te wehi, te ihi. Tata te hāora e kanikani, e waiata mai ana, ā, ka hoki ki tētahi whare nui ki te whakatā. Kāhore i roa ka mōhio mātou he hāora e kanikani ana, he hāora e whakatā ana, ā, tae noa ki te toenetanga o te rā. I noho mātou mō taua hāora kotahi. Tēnei kanikani ko Te Kanikani o te Buffalo. Te mea nui o te whakatū-waewae nei, arā, o te nuinga tonu anō o aua kanikani, ko ngā waiata, he karakia tonu atu, he tapu hoki, ki te Atua i roto i ā rātou karakia Māori motuhake.

Ka tae mātou ki te kāinga, ka tohe ngā tamariki nei kia haere māua ko Hēnare, ngā koeke o tō mātou rōpū, kia kite i tētahi pikitia. Ko tō māua haerenga, tō māua hokinga mai heoi anō te ngeri, ko tēnei nā: ‘Āhahā, ā, ka ngarue te whenua, ka ngaoko te tangata, i te aitanga a te ure, aue hā!’ Ko tenei tū tātai pikitia ko tōna karangatanga ko te ‘pikitia purū’, arā, ko ngā pikitia e kore e whakaaetia kia whaka-huatia ki Niu Tīreni. Hangahanga noa iho te whakaatu mai i te wahine, i te tāne, e pūremu ana.

I taua pō anō ka tūtaki mātou ki tētahi

 
 

spirit in the field of education, for its directors of schools are courageous enough to experiment, in order to maintain the esesentials of their culture that these may never be lost in places of learning, where children begin from infancy and progress to older years. These are the aspirations of directors of schools, like Mr Lloyd New, Jim McGrath, Marilyn Black and many others.

We proceeded further north to the Taos Reservation, where once a famous film personality trod in days past — Kit Carson, an expert rider, an adept gunman, and enforcer of the law. We had to pay in order to enter this Pueblo, Taos. Their homes were made of clay and rocks — adobe — and were sometimes two or three storeys high. The word Pueblo orgiinated from these houses. These storeyed houses formerly stood on mesas, just as our pas stood on high and most inaccessible places, for it is only recently that the Maori has moved down from the lofty mountains and places — only since the advent of peace.

On Saturday 1 March we were taken in the morning to a Reservation called Santa Felipe. At their main pa we witnessed a body of men and women over a hundred strong, approaching their marae which was in a square shape surrounded by houses at the perimeter.

The people came onto the marae firing their guns, and as though chanting something like a war chant, or a special kind of action song. It was quite moving. After about an hour performing the whole body turned and retired to a quite large house to rest. We soon learned that the observance lasted till sundown. The performances were in periods of an hour on and an hour's rest. We remained just for that one performance. This dance was called the Buffalo Dance. Perhaps one of the main points about these various dances was that they were sacred and performed according to their own native religion.

Back at home, the younger men of our party would have Henry Northcroft and I see a film which came into the ‘blue film’ category. So the korohekes, for so we were to the younger men, returned to our next function with the chant in mind, ‘Lo! How the earth trembles, and how nobly man bestirs himself, in his toils to procreate!’

Later that night we met a Hawaiian

 
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tangata nō Hawaii, he pai te reo ki te waiata, ā, he tangata i tū tahi i te taha o ā tātou tamariki o te ‘High Fives’ i Las Vegas. Nāna mātou i whakanui, i mihi, i manaaki.

I te ata, ka haere mātou tokotoru ki te Karakia Kai-Hapa i te Wharekarakia Niu o taua tāone. Kikī tonu te whare. E whaka-haeretia ana te karakia, ka puta te pātai mehemea kei te Wharekarakia tika mātou, i ngā inoi, i te whakahaere i te karakia, riterite tonu ki tā te Kātorika Roma. Mutu kau te karakia, muia ana mātou e te Pākehā, i te hiahia ki te whakatau i a mātou, ki te whānau kotahi. Kite tonu mai he tauhou mātou. Ko te takinga atu i a mātou ki raro whenua ki tētahi hōro tino nui kī tonu i tētahi wāhanga o te minenga ki te whakarongo ki te whaikōrero a te Kaikarakia, ki te kapu tī hoki. I reira ka mihia mātou, mahana ana te whakatau mai. I reira anō ka tūtaki mātou ki tētahi mema o te Pāriha o Pita o Pōneke, ēngari kua heke kē ki reira, ki Albuquerque, noho ai. Ka hoki atu a Hēnare Northcroft rāua ko Lewis Moeau, ka haria ahau e te whānau a Te Paaka tina ai. Mutu mai i reira, ka haere whakate-tonga ahau, tae atu ki te marae ātaahua o te Isleta Rāhui. I kite ai ahau i tētahi Wharekarakia e tū kau ana mō ngā marama tekau mā rua. Nā ngā uiuinga ka kite ake te noho o te iwi nei me tō rātou minita Kātorika Roma, arā, o te Ariki nui o taua Rāhui. Ka huri te iwi nei ki te Pīhopa hei whakatau i te raruraru, ā, hore noa iho, ko te āta makanga atu a te iwi nei i tō rātou Rāhui, rakaina ana te Whare. Ēngari tiakina tonutia ana e rātou tō rātou Whare.

Haere whakararo tonu atu ahau ki te toro i tētahi Pākehā, nō te Waipounamu i mua, me tana wahine Pākehā hoki he Māori nō Albuquerque tonu. I tūtaki atu au ki a rāua i tō rātou kāinga nui tonu i Bosque Farms, he nohanga tangata e rua tekau māero atu ki te tonga o te tāone nui o Albuquerque. Ka kite au i te whānau a ngā tokorua nei he whāngai katoa, he tamariki nō ngā huhua iwi, ā rāua taurima. I ngā tokorua nei, ka rongo au i ētahi kōrero mō tētahi mīhana Mihingare kei te tino nōta a New Mexico, kei Farmington, kotahi rau, e rua tekau mā rua māero ki runga tonu ake o Gallup.

Ko tēnei Mīhana, koinei anake anō tā te Mihingare, arā, kei roto kei te mutunga mai o te Rāhui Nāwaho, ki New Mexico.

 
 

singer who had got to know, when he was in Las Vegas, the High Fives. He could not say enough in their favour. They were terrific in this boy's estimation, sensational.

Three of us, next morning, attended Holy Communion service at the Cathedral Church of Albuquerque. The church was packed. During the service the question was asked by us if we were in the right church, for the ritual was so High Church that there was little difference between this service and a Roman Catholic service. No sooner was the service concluded than parishioners converged on us from all directions, in their desire to make us feel one of the family, seeing that we were obviously strangers to Albuquerque. We were conducted to an underground hall where a large part of the congregation was already gathered for a fellowship cuppa and to listen to the Celebrant speak on the subject of Baptism. We were duly introduced to the people and enthusiastically received. We met there a recent member of that Cathedral parish; she was formerly of the parish of St Peter's, Wellington. Henry Northcroft and Lewis Moeau returned to our motel whilst I accompanied the Sparks family to lunch. Afterwards, I proceeded south till I came upon the Isleta Pueblo. Reservation. Outside a beautiful, well-kept church I saw a clean and spacious marae. Enquiries revealed that twelve months before a dispute had arisen between the Reservation Governor or Chief and the local priest. The dispute resulted in the Governor seeking the Bishop's help. The priest concerned was Roman Catholic. Because no satisfactory conclusion was reached, the people bodily evicted the priest and locked the church. And so it had remained for over a year, locked but still carefully tended.

I moved on south still to call on a young Pakeha couple. The husband was a South Islander whilst the wife was a native of Albuquerque. I met them at a rural village called the Bosque Farms, a community twenty miles south of Albuquerque City. I met also their children, all foster children and of different nationalities. From these two people I learned of the Anglican Mission to the north-west corner of New Mexico, at a town called Farmington, with a population of 23,000 people, and about a hundred and twenty-two miles further up from Gallup.

 
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He kura, he hōhipera tō tēnei Mīhana. Ko te mea nui o tēnei Mīhana, ko te ako i ngā tamariki Nāwaho tonu, hei kaitaki mō ngā rā kei mua i ō rātou iwi tonu. Ināianei, hāwhe tonu ngā kaiako, he kiriwhero o te iwi o Nāwaho. Ko tā rātou whāinga atu kia puta ngā tamariki nei hei minita ki ngā hiahia o ō rātou iwi o te Nāwaho, ā, ko te āta tuku haere mai ki raro o ngā mīhana Pākehā, i te tūmanako, ka puta mai he Nāwaho Karaitiana hei tū i aua tūranga o te Hāhi Mihingare.

Ko Henare mā, he mea hari e Myron Jones ki te Rāhui o Santo Domingo. I reira ka tūtaki rātou ki tētahi kaumātua i manaaki nui i a Kara Puketapu i a ia i reira. Koirā tonu te kaumātua o taua iwi.

I te pō, ka haere mātou ki te kāinga o tētahi wahine — he Hawaii taua wahine — me āna tamariki kua moemoe tāne katoa. Nā te wahine nei mātou i manaaki, i whakatau.

I te Mane, 3 Maehe, ka tūtataki mātou ki ngā kaiwhakahaere o te Tari mō ngā Take Kiriwhero, arā, Bureau of Indian Affairs. He roa tonu mātou ki taua tari, e werowero ana i aua Pākehā, ka hoki pōuri mai mātou i te kore ngatanga i ngā whaka-hoki mai a aua Pākehā i ā mātou uiuinga. Ka kite mātou ko te nuinga o ngā moni hei whakapai, hei āwhina i ngā Rāhui, e pau

Picture icon

Crossing the border into Mexico

 
 

This mission was the only Anglican mission active in a Reservation in New Mexico. It consisted of a hospital and the mission proper. [The trend of conversation had veered that way because of some significant happenings there.] Its policy was revolutionary, as far as the Indian sphere of influence was concerned, in that from the church's mission to the Navajo there emerged a Navajo leadership that had not been seen before. [For example, Mrs Eloise Martines, a Navajo and Director of Religious Education there superintended a Bible School in which half of her teaching staff was now made up of Navajo women.] The outstanding facet of its total programme was the leadership potential displayed by youth volunteers. Furthermore, Indian missionaries were being trained to minister to their own Navajo people and thereby gradually work the Pakeha personnel out of a job, to the honour and glory of God.

Henry Northcroft and the rest of our party on this particular afternoon had left with our consultant, Myron Jones, for the Reservation of Santo Domingo. There they met an Indian elder who had been a very good friend to Kara Puketapu while he was visiting there and had shown him many kindnesses. This old man was the leading elder of his own tribe.

In the evening, we were entertained by a Hawaiian lady and her family of married daughters. They made us feel so very much at home that, when the time came to make our departure, we found it more difficult than we had anticipated.

The next day, Monday 3 March, we called at the offices of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, or B.I.A. We met several of the Officers of this Administration, and also posed many questions regarding their work. [This and OEO (Office of Economic Opportunity) and ICAP (Indian Community Action Programme) agencies seemed to us to overlap in their work in the Reservations.] We returned rather disappointed with the evasive attitudes of these men. We learned, furthermore, that the greater portion of the funds budgeted for the development of Indian Reservations by the Federal

 
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kē ana ki te utu i ngā kaiwhakahaere Pākehā o aua tari.

Nō te Tūrei 4 Maehe i te ata, ka rere tō mātou manu, ka tau ki Oklahoma City. He wā poto ki reira ka rere, ā, tau atu ki te Kennedy Tauranga, i te toru o ngā hāora i te ahiahi. Tō mātou tatūnga atu, e tū mai ana te wahine nāna nei te whakaaro kia whakawhitiwhiti te Māori te Kiriwhero, a Siobhan Oppenheimer, ā, nāna mātou i taki ki ō mātou waka nunui, e rua aua waka, ā, tae atu ana ki te whare o ngā Tari o te Ford Foundation. Ka haria atu ā mātou kawenga, ā, ka whakaoha ki ngā rangatira o te Whakahaere nei, ā, tae rawa atu ki te hāora hei haerenga atu mō mātou ki te kai. He roa tonu mātou ki te wharekai, ka takina atu mātou ki tētahi o ngā whare tākaro nunui, ā, rongonui hoki, ki Madison Square Garden, ki te mātakitaki i ngā karapu toa o New York e kakari ana i te Pāhikete Paoro o te tau.

Kātahi tētahi whare ko tērā! Piki rawa mātou ki te whakapaparanga tuaono, ēngari nā ō rātou mīhini hari whakarunga anō i hari mātou ki tō mātou nei tauranga, ā, ki ō mātou nohanga. I reira ka kite mātou i te tini tāngata — e waru miriona kē hoki tāngata o tēnei tāone o New York. Ka mutu tā mātou mātakitaki, ka whakahokia mātou ki ō mātou nohanga. Ko māua ko Hēnare, ki te whare nohanga o ngā tamariki mō te mahi minita o te Kāreti o Te Hoani; ko Timoti rāua ko Vernon i haere i te taha o tō mātou rangatira, o Siobhan Oppenheimer; ko Apanui rāua ko Hāwea ki tō Stan Bresenoff; ko Moeau rāua ko Hori ki tō Victor Alicia; ko Mahuta rāua ko Tūroa i haere i te taha o tō mātou rangatira, o Myron Jones. I pai tō māua nei tatūnga atu ki tō māua nei ko Hēnare nohanga, ēngari a Hori rāua ko Moeau, tō rāua nei pō ki Harlem takiwā, ko te wāhanga tēnei o ngā mangu, ahaha, e pakanga ana ngā mangu nei, a pakupakū mai ana ngā pū, mō te mate tonu atu.

I te Wenerei, he rā whakatā tēnei. Heoi te mahi he haereere ki te mātakitaki i te nui whakaharahara o New York. I te Tātite te 6 Maehe ka whakamanuhiritia mātou e te Ford Foundation. Ā, he mea pōwhiri anō hoki a te ‘Whakakaupaparanga’ nei, a Mrs Hines, te Perehitini o te Rōpū Wāhine o Ngā Kiriwhero; ko Joe Belindo, Tumuaki o te Kaunihera o ngā Kiriwhero katoa; ko George Effman, o te Kotahitanga o ngā Iwi

 
 

Government was in fact expended on the salaries of officers of the administration.

On the morning of 4 March we took a flight which made one stop, en route to New York, at Oklahoma. We were soon airborne again for New York and at Kennedy Airport Mrs Siobhan met us and accompanied us to the Ford Foundation offices. Here we were introduced to some of the officers of the Foundation and then taken away to dine. [This was a huge establishment, Gallaghers 33, which was packed, and confirmed our previous observations on the south west that it was part of the American way of life to dine out.] After dinner our hostess took us to Madison Square Garden to watch a basketball match between the two top teams of New York. This was the game of the year.

What a terrific stadium! We ascended to the sixth storey by escalators, to our seats. We saw people by the thousands there — remember that New York's population is eight million people. At the conclusion of the game we were seen to our various billets, Henry Northcroft and I to the Theological Seminary of St John's New York; Timoti Nikora and Vernon Winitana with Mrs Siobhan Oppenheimer; Apanui Watene and Tom Hawea with Stan Bresenoff; Lewis Moeau and George Asher with Victor Alicia; and Robert Mahuta and Turoa Royal with Myron Jones. We were shown to our spacious rooms at the Seminary and settled snugly for the night, but Lewis Moeau and George Asher had an exciting and spectacular introduction to their billet in the negro Harlem area. Two negroes had resorted to a gunfight to settle their differences.

Wednesday was a rest day for our team. We took advantage of this respite by seeing the sights of New York and window shopping. Thursday 6 March also turned out to be an easy day for us all. This was the Foundation's day for officially extending to us its formal welcome. It also extended invitations to such persons as Mrs Hines, President of the American Indian Women's League; Joe Belindo, Executive Director of the National Congress of American Indians; Mr George Effman, American Indians United; Messrs Robert Lawrence and Rys Richards, New Zealand Consulate-General, Ambassador Frank and Mrs Corner, New Zealand Ambassador to UNO and U.S.A.

 
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Kiriwhero; ko Robert Lawrence, Kanohi mō Niu Tīreni ki New York; me Rhys Richards o taua tari anō hoki; me te Reo mō Niu Tīreni ki te Minenga o Ngā Mana Nunui o Te Ao me Āmerika hoki, a Frank Corner rāua ko tana hoa wahine.

I te hākari nei, ka mutu ngā mihi mai a ngā rangatira o te Ford Foundation, ka tū mai hoki te Reo mō Niu Tīreni, a Frank Corner, ki te whakatau mai i tō mātou ope. Ka mutu te mihi atu a mātou nei ki a rātou, ka whakatakotoria atu ngā taonga a Kuini Te Atairangikaahu, hei tuku mā mātou ki ō mātou rangatira nā rātou nei i whakatinana te whakawhitinga atu ki a rātou.

I te pā, ka haria mātou e te wahine nei, e Siobhan Oppenheimer, ki tētahi wharekai, arā kē, aua atu ana ki runga, ā, i reira ka manaakitia anō mātou e ō mātou rangatira. Mutu kau i konei, ka haria mātou ki tō Victor Alicia, kia whakamanuhiritia e ngā Puerto Rican. I pai i te tuatahi, ēngari ka roa e whakangahau ana te iwi nei, ka rangona tonutia atu i roto i ngā waiata, te kino, te kiriweti o te iwi nei ki ngā Pākehā, rite tonu te kino ki tō ngā mangumangu. Rongo rawa ake au, ko tētahi o māua ko Hēnare ka tangi mai, kia hoki māua. Kua kite kē atu ia i tētahi mea rerekē, me te kaha haurangi haere o tō mātou hūnuku. Ko te mea rerekē, ko te auau o te putaputanga atu o ngā tāne ki waho. Tā rātou mahi kē hoki, he kai i ā rātou hikareti whakananu. Nā tēnei ka āwangawanga a Hēnare Northeroft kei tūpono tutū te iwi nei i ā rātou waipiro, hikareti hoki, arā, kei raru hoki i te iwi nei. Ko tana kīnga mai kia kaua e roa rawa, ka hoki ai māua. Nā tētahi tonu o ō mātou rangatira, nā Stan Bresenoff, māua i kawe mai ki te kāinga. Tau ana rā te ngākau, reka ana hoki te moe i te pō.

Nō te ata rongo māua i āta raru tonu anō te hunga nei, mutu rawa atu rātou i te hāpāhi o te whā i te ata ki tētahi hōhipera whawhai ai, he hōhipera i panatia mai ai tētahi o rātou tonu inatahirā. Ka tae mai rā mātou ki tō mātou rā whakamutunga ki New York, heoi ko te mahi he mātakitaki haere. Na, koinei ka haere mātou i te pō ki te tara o te tino whare teitei o te ao, te Empire State Building, me ōna whakapapa-ranga kotahi rau mā rua. Anō nei he moemoeā. I konei atu hoki ka kitea te roa me te whānui o te moutere nei, o Long Island, ā, ka āta kitea atu hoki te mahi me te

 
 

At this Ford Foundation luncheon the top executive officers of the Foundation spoke, extending a sincere and warm welcome to our group. The Ambassador spoke also, associating himself with our hosts in the welcome. One of our number was delegated to speak on our behalf at the end of which reply, the carved gifts we received from Queen Te Atairangikaahu, were presented to our hosts, representatives of the Foundation that had made the exchange between Maori and American Indian a reality.

In the evening we were again the guests of Mrs Siobhan Oppenheimer, at a dining-room called The Top of the Six's, in another New York skyscraper. Later, after dinner, we made our way to the Puerto Rican quarters. These people were entertaining us for the evening at the residence of Mr Victor Alicia. The evening started well, but after a while the Puerto Rican songs took on a very distasteful flavour, expressing hatred towards the white American, almost equal to that of the negro. It was not surprising therefore to hear Henry Northcroft expressing his desire that we leave about ten o'clock. He had already sensed a bitterness in the atmosphere — a change in the behaviour of the Puerto Rican men and their constant exits and entrances. They were of course availing themselves of smoking their reefer cigarettes every so often. Because of this Henry Northcroft anticipated trouble, hence his desire for our early retirement that evening lest we become involved in some unsavoury happening. Stan Bresenoff, one of our hosts, saw us home. So we settled in for the rest of the evening to a good night's sleep.

The next morning the boys informed us that the Puerto Ricans had become troublesome so that by about 4.30 a.m. they had caused quite a riot at a hospital where one of their people had been dismissed the day before. We had come now to our last day in New York and the order then was sight-seeing. Then some of us set off to scale, by lift of course, the highest building in the world, The Empire State Building with its one hundred and two storeys. This was done early in the evening so that the sight from that roof was as it were just a dream. From this vantage point we could see the length and breadth of Long Island and appreciate more fully the expansive spread

 
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mātauranga o te tangata ki te hanga mai i tēnei ngahere pōhatu. He maha tonu ngā wāhi hokohoko i tae ai mātou i te awatea. Nō tētahi o ā mātou haere, ka kite mātou i ngā pukapuka huhua nei, e whakaaturia mai ana i roto i ngā toa, hore ake he whakamā, i te aroaro o te wahine o te tāne, o rāua e ai mai ana. E kore rawa e whakaaea ēnei tū pukapuka, niupepa rānei, ki Niu Tīreni. Koinei ka noho me ngā mahara ki te noho tahi a te rawa nui me te rawa kore, o tēnei whenua nui whakaharahara, o ngā taumata ikeike o te mātauranga kua taea e Āmerika, ka mīharo, ā, ka whakaaro, he aha i hīmene ai: ‘Ka mahue Ihipa, te kāinga o te hē’.

Nā ēnei pea ka rongo ake i te kaha kuku-me o ngā whakaaro whakatekāinga. I ō mātou kitenga i ngā taupatupatu huhua, a te noho tahi a te pōhara, a te whairawa, a te kūare, a te mātau, i roto i tēnei ao o te tino mātauranga rawa, ā, kite iho ko te tangata anō tēnei, i roto i ōna mamae hane-hane, i ōne aureretanga i roto o Āmerika.

I te ata o te Rāhoroi e rima hāora te rere atu i te Tauranga o Kennedy ki San Francisco. E rima anō, ka tae ki te tauranga ki Honolulu. I konei ka takina atu mātou ki tērā whaitua o Oahu moutere, ki te marae Māori, hei whakamanuhiri mā ō mātou rangatira Mōmona o te Kāreti Mōmona o taua takiwā. Whakamīharo tonu mātou ki te manaaki a te Pīhopa Mōmona, a Nephi George, ki a mātou. Nō te ata rawa anō ka kite mātou i te ātaahua o taua moutere, ā, ka puta ake anō te pātai: ‘He aha rawa rā i haere whakatetonga ai ō tātou tūpuna? Iwi kūare ki te waiho ake i tēnei whenua mīharo, mahana hoki!’

Nui rawa atu te manaaki. Waimarie, i reira hoki i taua wā ētahi anō o te wā kāinga. I muri tina, ka tae mai a Dr Pat Hōhepa me ētahi anō o tō mātou rōpū ki te hari i a mātou ki tō te Tākuta tatari ai mō tō mātou manu. I te 11.30 i te pō ka whakawhāiti atu mātou ki te tauranga manu, hei whakangahautanga mā te Pīhopa Mōmona me tana hūnuku. He haka, he poi te mahi, ā, tae atu ki te wā hei ekenga atu waka, ka riro i te Pīhopa Mōmona ngā inoi tautoko i a mātou ki te ara, tae atu ki te kāinga. E waru hāora atu ki Māngere. Ko Pīhopa Pānapa, ko Parāone Pūriri, e tatari mai ana i a mātou. Kāhore i roa, kitea rawatia ake

 
 

of this massive concrete jungle, man's own achievement. During the day we were able to visit several shops. It was on one of these excursions that we saw displayed quite shamelessly pornographic literature that would make our censors blush. Such literature would never pass our censors in New Zealand. So one's thoughts were again on the wealth and poverty side by side in this great country, of the tremendous achievements in the area of education in America and one wondered, and thought why we should still sing the hymn, ‘We have left Egypt, the land of sin’.

Perhaps this was why our thoughts were strongly drawn towards home. After seeing for ourselves this land of countless contradictions, of affluence and poverty at their greatest and worst, of ignorance and depravity amid terrifically advanced strides in the scientific and technological world, we realised that at the centre of it all was man again, in all his trials and tribulations, man of every nationality in this huge tract of land.

Saturday morning saw us in flight from Kennedy Airport to San Francisco, a matter of five hours' journey. [Along the route we sped high above the snow-capped rocky ranges, white as far as the eye could see, which scenery prevailed till we reached the shores on which lapped the waters of the Pacific Ocean.] Another five-hour trip across the ocean brought us to the Island of Oahu to land at Honolulu airport. We were taken to the other side of the island, to the Polynesian Centre, where we were received as honoured guests by our Mormon hosts of the Mormon College. The Mormon Bishop, Nephi George, was absolutely wonderful to us. It was not till the next morning, Sunday, that we had a chance to appreciate the beauty of the island and we wondered, ‘What impelled our ancestors to move further south? What foolish people to leave this wonderful tropical climate!’

We were treated royally. Fortunately there were folk from home there as well. After dinner, Dr Pat Hohepa and others of our party arrived to take us to his home and await the hour of our departure for New Zealand. By 11.30 p.m. we were gathered at the air terminal and handsomely entertained by the Mormon Bishop and his group. Songs and hakas were danced till just before we enplaned, when Bishop

 
– 47 –
 

kei Waiwhetū mātou e pōwhiritia ana e Ihāia Puketapu me ētahi atu, ā, tūtaki ai ki ngā Inia kiriwhero a Āmerika.

E rua ō mātou rangi ki Waiwhetū e hui ana i te mahi a te tangata nei, a Kara Puketapu, Arā, mātou ko ngā Inia kiriwhero, whakawhitiwhiti kōrero, whakaaro ai. I reira ka rongo mātou, me tō mātou koa nui atu hoki, i ngā whakamanuhiritanga nui a ō tātou waka i te tūārangi o Āmerika, i ō rātou tūmanako, i ā rātou i kite ai i konei, me tā rātou whakamīharo mō ngā manaaki i a rātou. Puta rawa ngā kōrero mō te tūhonohononga noho a te Māori me te Pākehā i roto i te wā poto o te kotahi rau rima tekau tau, kite ake rātou ahakoa tana ono rau tau e noho tahi ana i te taha o te Pākehā, kei te ao tawhito tonu rātou, arā, tō rātou nuinga e noho ana.

Nō te pō o te Tāite 13 Maehe ka poroakitia e Ngāti Maniapoto me ngā iwi o Pōneke, o te Hutt Valley, te rōpū nei. He pō tēnei e kore e warewaretia e ngā rōpū e rua nei o te Ford Foundation Whakawhitiwhiti. Nā Raymond Kane o te iwi Apache, tāna kōrero: ‘E kore e wareware au ki tēnei haerenga mai, i kite ai au, utua rawatia ai koutou ki te mahi tangata.’

I mua i tana wehenga mai i Āmerika mō Niu Tīreni, nāna i utu tana nama ki te hōhipera, e whā rau taara mō te whaka-whānautanga i tana hoa wahine, ka tae mai nei ia, ka rongo ki Te Social Security kaupapa o konei, ka kī ia, ‘He mea mīharo rawa atu tēnei! I te wā kāinga e whā rau taara tāku utunga mō te whakawhānau i taku hoa wahine; kia tae rawa kē mai au ki Niu Tireni nei, kātahi anō ahau ka kite, ē, utua kētia ai koutou tāne mā, ki te mahi tangata!’

 

Nephi George offered up prayers for a safe journey home. The night flight to Mangere took eight hours. At the airport both Bishop Panapa and Mr Brownie Puriri were there to welcome us home. It was not long before we were back at Waiwhetu marae to be received by our koeke, Ihaia Puketapu and several others and to meet the Indian team from America.

At Waiwhetu we spent two days, organised by Kara Puketapu, exchanging views and experiences with our Indian counterparts. During this period of evaluation we learned with great delight of the hospitality meted out to our American guests, their reactions, their hopes, their experiences, their appreciation of the countless blessings we as a people have received. They spoke of the degree of integration of Maori and Pakeha in the short time of hundred and fifty years and compared it with the six hundred years they had had contact with western civilisation, and still found the majority lagging behind.

On Thursday night 13 March the Ngati Maniapoto people, together with the assembled people of Wellington and the Hutt Valley, farewelled the Indian party. This was an occasion which will long live in the memories of both parties of the Ford Foundation Exchange. It was the Apache boy, Raymond Kane, who said, ‘You know, one thing I shall remember of our visit for a long time is, how you guys are paid to make them.’

Raymond Kane had, just prior to leaving for New Zealand, paid four hundred dollars for maternity fees, then he arrives here to learn of our Social Security scheme with a certain amount of astonishment and says, ‘This is marvellous! I pay four hundred dollars to get my wife and baby back home, and come to New Zealand to see that you guys are paid to make them.’

– 48 –

Teaching of Maori Language
In New Zealand Schools

The pre-European Maori of New Zealand would have thought of himself as a person in a group and this group identity as being associated with an area of land, a fixed and permanent locality relationship. Thus ‘identity’ to the Maori was not a matter of name, appearance, personality or wealth, but a matter of land.

This fundamental ‘first relationship’ of Maori culture was tightly woven into every aspect of social and economic organisation. At public gatherings there were two groups of people, the ‘manuhiri’ — visitors, and the ‘tangata whenua’, literally, the ‘people of the land’, or local folk. At a Maori gathering of any significance today, these are still the common terms of reference, though subtly changed in meaning.

Alienation from Land

The coming of the European alienated the Maori from his land at increasing speed, culminating in the wars of the 1860s. By the end of this confused conflict in which Europeans fought on one side while Maoris fought on both, the Maori people had been effectively separated from all but a few scattered and relatively inhospitable tracts of land.

The most obvious loss has been the economic one, which should not be dismissed as unimportant, as it prevented the Maori from continuing the development of suitable areas (in terms of 19th Century farm technology) for European type farming, an activity which he had begun to carry out on a large scale before the Treaty of Waitangi was signed in 1840.

Serious as this economic impoverishment was when it occurred, a more subtle but in the long term more serious loss for the Maori people has been that of individual and group identity which was taken away with the land. It is quite reasonable (at any rate to the European) to contend that the contact with European culture has brought many compensations to the Maori for the loss of his land. Many opportunities apparently exist which his own culture could not provide; greater awareness of the outside world, a marked increase in the volume of material goods, personal independence, relatively greater security; these four would no doubt be high on any list compiled by a European.

Need for an Identity

Readily available and frequently quoted statistics indicate very strongly, however, that the majority of Maori people are unable to take advantage of these opportunities. It is axiomatic that as human beings we cannot grasp that with which we cannot identify, and during the 20th Century the Maori has made clearly recognisable and (for the majority) unavailing struggles for an identity in New Zealand.

There seem to be three discernable elements in this struggle. The first is the individual one, in which unusually gifted, or influential Maoris have sought achievement in the European world — as doctors, priests, political careerists, entertainers. For obvious reasons this solution is open to only a very small minority, and it is of no great significance to the Maori people as a whole. Another expression of the struggle has been the military one. In this country's 20th Century wars, there has been not so much a bond of common purpose between Maori and European, as an attempt to find a group identity in the Maori Battalion. This, one can only hope, offers no answer for the future, and in any case is of only transient value. For the great majority (until the last decade over 80%) of Maoris the solution has been to cling to the few remaining ‘refuge’ areas of Maori land, a ‘harking back’ or reversion to traditional identity. This effectively isolates them from the advantage of European society, while at the same time they are prevented, for a great variety of

– 49 –

reasons, from living a complete life in terms of their pre-European society. In any case, it is unlikely that many of them want to return to their old ways.

The recent increase in the urban proportion of the Maori population is a further expression of the first, or individual struggle. This partly explains the tendency for Maoris to gravitate towards the lower echelons of the employment scale where it is easier to remain in identity groups.

The foregoing remarks suggest that the need at this time is for the Maori to develop a sense of individual identity as a New Zealander; not a ‘partner’ or a ‘neighbour’, or any other high-sounding term which may be used to ensure his remaining outside the main stream of New Zealand society, but simply a New Zealander with nothing special about him. At the risk of stating the obvious, one may add that he can only achieve a proper state of anonymity if he ‘feels’ that he is a New Zealander in this desirable sense.

This implies that if it does not want the Maori to assume the identity of a socially inferior minority living either as a depressed rural, or as an urban ghetto dweller, with all the attendant evils of affronted human dignity, crime, poor health and expensive policing, the European majority group must create and accept conditions with which the Maori can identify himself. ‘Tolerance’ will not do for either side. Integration if it means anything at all, must mean that all the guests bring something to the party. Discussion must be centred around what each should bring, partly that it may be valuable to all, and partly that the contributor may feel that his contribution is more than a mere token.

Language is Central

Language, as the basic means through which humans communicate, is central to culture. Its transmission embodies a major contribution and a major acceptance. It makes possible a level of understanding and appreciation for which there is no real substitute. The introduction of the Maori language for all pupils in New Zealand schools would of necessity be a fairly slow process, and like other subjects it would cost money, but for a variety of reasons, it would be a great boon.

The establishment of the Maori language as an integral part of New Zealand's national culture would ensure the full integration of the Maori people too, such is the vital position of language in human affairs. It would at the same time transmit the richness of Maori culture to our national character, thus strengthening it and broadening its base. We are frequently urged through our popular press that ‘New Zealand has a future in the Pacific’, and at any one time there are up to ten thousand Pacific Islanders in this country. These people have the closest ties of language and culture with the Maori people and it is not difficult to understand them if one speaks Maori. All Polynesian populations are increasing, are developing their countries, and have gained or are in the process of gaining their independence. It is obviously of importance for New Zealand to establish the best possible rapport with them. Appreciation based on real understanding is the essential in achieving this.

A National Asset

It may be argued that the Maori people, as the largest existing Polynesian group, are entitled to some recognition of their language and culture as a matter of good manners. It may even be suggested by sentimentalists that what the Maori has, is worth ‘preserving’ for its beauty and interest, but the European New Zealander has demonstrated pretty conclusively that he is unlikely to be impressed by any such pious pleas.

The case for the Maori langauge must be that it is a national asset. It will adorn and enrich our nation, and link us more closely with our Pacific neighbours. Lastly there is the cold and disquieting fact that the Maori does not feel at ease among Europeans. In a negative sense he is compelled to remain aloof in order to preserve some vestige of cultural identity, and as education, employment, residential and crime statistics show, he is manifesting all the signs of a withdrawn and therefore deprived minority, of increasing size. Such minority groups are proving expensive in many countries. It would be cheaper, and even perhaps more interesting, to learn his language and thereby make his acquaintance while there is still a little time.

– 50 –
– 51 –

Waitangi, 1969

Waitangi Day, 1969, proved disappointing for many people, because with the wettest ‘6th of February’ for 25 years, the celebrations were held inside the meeting house, where there was room for only the official guests, speakers, entertainers, reporters and television crew — and very few visitors. It was particularly disappointing that so few could enjoy the occasion, as many New Zealanders had planned to attend after their interest had been aroused by the excellent television coverage in 1968.

Speakers this year included His Excellency the Governor-General, Sir Arthur Porritt, the Hon. D. McIntyre, Minister of Lands, the Hon. A. E. Kinsella, Minister of Education, the Hon. J. R. Hanan, Minister of Maori and Island Affairs, and Mr N. P. K. Puriri, speaking on behalf of the Maori people.

Mr Hanan said, ‘Today we celebrate the 129th Anniversary of the foundation of our nation and the union of two peoples in a common citizenship. Since that time we have passed through many of the troubles and stresses that seem to beset most young nations, but we have been much more fortunate than most. We have now lived together in peace for one hundred years. This is something of which we may be proud.

‘The Treaty of Waitangi is the most discussed document in our history. Apart from its specific terms, what did the treaty do? I think Sir Apirana Ngata was right when he once said that one of the greatest effects of the treaty was that it unified the Maori people for the first time in history.

‘Up till that time each chief held in his hand one small portion of the mana of the Maori people. As he signed the treaty each chief delivered into a common pool his own small handful of mana — or sovereignty if you like — and thus made a nation.

‘At the same time other people came here from England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales and elsewhere. It is true that some of the new-comers had a tendency to take out more than they put in, but these were the exceptions, and every nation has its share of those. Let us not forget the tremendous contribution made by the ordinary hard-working citizens who made up the bulk of the immigrants of those days.

‘We have become a nation with much to be proud of, but can we be satisfied with the stage we have reached? We would be very foolish if we were. We cannot truly say we are one people while there are still economic and social differences between Maori and Pakeha. We have a common citizenship, we are equal before the law, but while we have differences in educational attainment, in health, in housing, and in occupational stratification, we cannot be truly one people.

‘Since I became Minister of Maori Affairs this has been my preoccupation — to remove as quickly as possible the things that still divide us. Great progress has been made and is being made.

‘The basic thing is education, and here an ever-increasing effort is being made, not only by the Government but also by Maori parents and Maori students. There is no magic wand which can transform the situation overnight. We need an unremitting campaign by the Government, the Maori people, the Maori Education Foundation and the community at large.

‘As a result of the great drive over the past twenty years, the disparity between Maori and Pakeha standards of housing and household amenities has almost disappeared. Here again this is due not only to Government assistance, but also to the magnificent effort of the people themselves. The old stereotype that a Maori house was an unpainted shack with a rusty roof and standing in a bare paddock is no longer true.

‘The other field which still requires the attention of every New Zealander is Maori

– 52 –

employment. If Waitangi is to mean anything, we cannot complacently accept a situation where the majority of Maori people are unskilled workers, vulnerable to every economic breeze.

‘Every year we are expanding the Maori Apprenticeship Training Scheme, not only in numbers but also in scope. Already more than 1,000 boys have passed through the scheme and the numbers of new apprentices are rising steadily every year. This year also sees the beginning of a new nurse training scheme for girls. An indirect and encouraging result of the apprenticeship scheme is the increasing number of Maoris undertaking apprenticeships in the ordinary way with private employers.

‘This, to my mind, is the most important work, next to basic education, which has to be done to ensure that the spirit of Waitangi is fulfilled. When we have a solid body of skilled Maoris, other things will follow. It is the sons and daughters of skilled men who go to universities and obtain higher qualifications. It is the skilled men, Maori and Pakeha, who will work side by side and grow to respect each other.’

We print the full text of Mr Puriri's speech …

‘We are assembled here on an historic site, on an historic day, to turn over yet another page in the annals of our history. We join together to celebrate the 129th anniversary of the birth of our nation. Surely no hour is more propitious than this, where we can look back over these years and acknowledge the wisdom of those who were responsible for the treaty, and to the people of both races who kept our nation on an even keel through troublous times.

‘The thought that comes to my mind this evening … though negative … is this. “Is there anything in the Treaty today that I can celebrate with you?” The answer is … “Very little”, for my people have seen their lands and their fishing rights dwindle before their eyes, their mana, their language and their authority eroded.

‘The little that remains of the treaty is “Clause One”, where our leaders ceded their authority to the ancient crown of Great Britain. If this clause alone constituted the treaty, than I would truthfully say, “Let us celebrate the occasion together.”

– 53 –

‘If we were to turn the clock back to 1840, knowing full well the injustices that would occur in the future, Your Excellencies, distinguished visitors, ladies and gentlemen. I would have no hesitation in placing my mark to that compact, for I know of no other native race in this world that has been so well treated by another race. I doubt very much whether there would be a free Maori people today had the spirit of the treaty not been perpetuated.

‘Having said that, I acknowledge that there have been many mistakes in the past. These cannot be obliterated, for they are part and parcel of the history of this country. But, when we consider the total picture, the good things that have happened far exceed the bad.

‘Tonight we are witnesses to a ceremony belonging to this country, representing both our cultures and the culture that is the fusion of the two — ours. Is Waitangi to be the preserve of only the British and the Maori, something special for you and me? My answer to this is “No”! Waitangi is far greater than this. It belongs to all citizens of this country, whatever their race may be. Whether they have come from Europe, Asia or Polynesia, let us extend the hand of friendship so that they can be one with us, and not apart. Some people may regard this as being rather idealistic, but surely we can “give it a go”; surely we will succeed. Is not this the message of Waitangi — its spirit?

‘The observance of Waitangi Day, the day we are honouring now, can no longer be regarded as a regional matter. Are we mature? Have we grown up? Can we think nationally? If the answer is “Yes”, do we have to wait another 129 years before we recognise Waitangi Day as belonging to all of us and not just to the Northland people, the Maoris, a few sentimental or well-meaning Pakehas in various places throughout this country, and a few expatriates who will be celebrating this occasion as New Zealand's Day? We cannot afford to wait even one more year.

‘The phrase used by Captain Hobson — “We are one people”, is a fact. Did we not answer the “call to arms” together? Are we not doing it now at this very moment? Are we not all concerned with the fate of our country? Do we not have compassion for one another? Have we not a lot of things in common? This is sufficient to show that we are one people. Where we differ is in the beliefs engendered by our different environments. Some people subscribe to the view that until such time as we, the Maori, do things exactly like you, and become brown-skinned Europeans — only then can we be “one people”.

‘Your Excellencies, ladies and gentlemen, God forbid that anyone should make you or me into something that we are not or have no wish to be. Each of us has his own life to live. This is our right. We all come from differing backgrounds. That “diversity is the very essence of unity” is paradoxical but true.

‘I have faith in our country. I have faith in my people. Have we faith in each other? I have nothing but optimism for the years that lie ahead. My people in the last 129 years — and especially in the last 40 years — have made spectacular progress, due to the wisdom of our leaders and to the en-lightened policies of successive governments. At this moment we are living in a world of uncertainty torn by racial strife and conflicting ideologies. We are in the “space age”, an age of reaching out into unknown territories, an age of discovery. Let us resolve to reach out, to share with each other, to learn from one another, to listen to each other, here in New Zealand … now.

‘On behalf of the Maori people, I would like to acknowledge the debt we as a nation owe to the late Lord Bledisloe and his wife, for their gift, which ensured for all time the retention in the hands of the people of this “cradle of our nation”.

‘We are a comparatively new nation in the world, and yet other nations look to us as an example. May we cherish what we have and foster it. May we learn to know each other and to know what we may be. What have we to fear from “change” when “change” has so far been the very law of our growth? Who can dare set a limit to our horizons, when we do not? In freedom and diversity, with hopes as various as the homes that gave us birth, we still hold up to mankind a heartening promise — those who are far apart may work together; those who are not the same may yet be one; those who have different goals may live at peace.’

– 54 –

In Support of the New Zealand Maori Councils
Decision in Favour of the 1970 All Black Tour

It is the secret ambition of every young man who has had any connection with sport, especially in football, to become an ‘All Black’ some day. Little boys at school become imbued with enthusiasm, when their fathers give them a football for their birthday. The fathers may not have had the same opportunities for showing their skill, but many are anxious for their sons to do better. They recreate their own ambitions in their sons and hope one day, that, ‘My son will be an All Black’. Many play, but few are chosen. What young man here, if he was lucky enough to be picked, would turn down the honour?

I would like to see the All Blacks go to Africa, with the blessing of all the people here. You will all agree with me I know, that to broaden the mind you need to visit other countries. Many of the boys who are chosen, will never have another opportunity of seeing Africa, never have the opportunity of showing the South Africans that two different people can play together as a team, in a friendly manner, practising together, mixing together socially and living amicably together, showing mutual respect for one another's failings, beliefs, traditions and feelings.

It is educational — they need to learn about Africa by seeing for themselves the way other people live. The trip will create good relations, and may be a means of building up the trade relations so badly needed by New Zealand today. There are many Negroes who are better educated than many of the top men in our own country. It is said that Negro doctors are restricted to treating their own people. What of it? There are enough Negroes to give the doctors all the patients they will ever need.

The word ‘Apartheid’, pronounced Apartate, means separate identities — segregation. In South Africa, segregation policies were applied and the doctrine of white supremacy reigns. We think we have no apartheid here, but how many Pakehas have asked Maoris into their homes? How many of you would accept an African Negro to board in your homes? Many people agitate against apartheid, and so long as it doesn't touch them personally, they are safe in airing their views and like to be regarded as being on the side of the underdog. How many Pake-has have lifted a hand to help a struggling Maori boy who has missed out on school certificate or university entrance by offering to board him; or a Maori student attending university? There would be more Maori boys in apprenticeship jobs in Palmerston North if some Pakehas would open their homes to them.

I will say that the main reason for this lack of personal interest is prejudice. Prejudice is something that we are all guilty of. We are prejudiced in many ways. The people in New Zealand are prejudiced against South Africa because of the way the natives are treated. The Negroes chased the Indians out of Kenya — they were prejudiced. The problems of South Africa belong to Africa. That is not our problem. We in New Zealand have our problems. We have plenty of them, but our problems are nothing compared with the problems of other nations, nations with major racial problems. There are few pure whites or pure Maoris amongst us in New Zealand. We are so mixed racially, that the safest way for us to describe ourselves is to say, ‘I am a New Zealander’, which I am, and it is something I am very proud of.

A small number of Maori students travelled round the East Coast recently with the idea of trying to influence the older people to think their way, which was to ban the tour of the All Blacks to South Africa. I really believe that they will think about it and agree that it is a good thing for the boys to go, because the experience will be of great value to sport in New Zealand.

I sincerely hope that when the All Blacks go, they will have the good wishes of the people behind them. It is people like those students who are helping to put thoughts

– 55 –

of segregation into our people's minds. These boys are young, virile, strong, full of energy — they have to get rid of a lot of surplus energy — so they spout ‘apartheid’, as something to shudder from. I say that they do not understand or know the problems in our own country, and they would be better occupied in trying to solve some of the anomalies that arise in our own country. I gained the opinion of several students — you would call it a cross section of young people. One said, ‘If only I was good enough to be picked, nothing would stop me from going’; another one said, ‘My greatest ambition is to be an All Black’; another said ‘I would certainly go if I had the remotest chance’.

In 1967, a New Zealand team without Maoris was to go to South Africa, but public opinion was so strong against it, and the Maori elders were so concerned, they said, ‘No Maoris, no tour’. I said the same.

For many years South Africa would not tolerate a mixed team going. It took 50 years for them to realise that New Zealand meant business, and it was driven home to them quite strongly, that unless Maoris were included, there would be no football. I think South Africa has made a big step in the right direction, in showing that they are willing for Maoris to go in the team, and by an assurance from the South African Consul that Maori supporters will also be treated with the greatest respect — a very big concession indeed from a nation such as this.

I was amused to read the telegram written many years ago that a certain reporter sent back to Africa after a Springbok match. It went something like this. ‘To have Natives play in Wellington against us was bad enough, but to see people our own colour barracking for them was the limit. Frankly we were disgusted.’ (The reporter was European.) The Pakehas were barracking for the Maoris!

We in New Zealand are one people living and working side by side in harmony. We have our differences, like families do. In the little things of life we have our differences, but in the big things of life, we are one.

Tatou tatou.

THE ASYLUM OF DARKNESS

I came to the crest of hell
and turned about
and my home was a cloud.
At his peak was the wave
of the sea carrying me away
to a place of darkness.

Since I must go, and I must
mourn, come night, with
darkness, while I write.

The things which I have seen
I now can see no more,
but below the given grass
and above the vaulted sky.
Into the living darkness of
waking dreams
where there is neither
sense of life nor joys,

To watch the storm, and hear
the sky
give all our almanac the lie,
to shake with cold, and see the plains
in Autumn drown with wintry rains,
thus I spent my
last moments here.

My element
should be a clod,
and not a man.

J. Hukatai

– 56 –

Hawke's Bay Secondary Schools'
Maori Conference

Fifth and Sixth Form pupils from 14 secondary schools in Hawke's Bay attended a three-day conference held at Te Aute College from 9–11 May 1969. The conference was residential and about 80 young people and several staff members ‘lived in’, while a number of others came for the sessions during the day. Some senior Pakeha pupils were also invited.

The conference had its inspiration in the cultural days held in Hawke's Bay in recent years for the Maori clubs of the various secondary schools. Senior pupils felt that they would like the opportunity of discussing matters of common interest and an approach was made to a Hastings principal who passed on the idea to the Hawke's Bay Principals' Association. With their blessing the conference was set down for May with Te Aute College as the venue.

The Hon. Duncan MacIntyre, opening the conference, drew several parallels between the Maori and Scottish peoples, and urged the younger generation not to be afraid of being themselves. Speakers included Sir Guy Powles, who spoke on ‘New Zealand, a Bi-racial Society’, Mr D. Garrett of Massey University, whose topic was ‘Citizenship’, Mr Ted Nepia, who offered guidance on ‘Job Opportunities’, and Mr Harry Dan-sey, the Auckland journalist who spoke on ‘City Living’. There was also a panel dealing with ‘The Whole Person’ and two ‘Free Discussion’ periods.

Following the introduction by each speaker the conference divided into nine groups which discussed questions set down and commented on the topic. After three-quarters of an hour's discussion there was a ‘Report Back’ session. At first some pupils were reluctant to offer opinions but by the end of the first day, discussion was becoming more animated and continued over meals and into the night. This was especially so after the free discussions which covered a wide range of topical questions which included abortion, Maori education, capping magazines, pronunciation of Maori, religion, life after death, the South African tour, private schools, the voting age and the drinking age … to mention some of them.

All agreed that the conference was well worth while as it not only gave senior pupils a chance to meet but also to gain experience in expressing themselves. No firm conclusions were arrived at except that there must be another conference next year.

Parliamentary Committee Tour

A framed photograph of the Maori Affairs room at Parliament Buildings now has pride of place in the Rangikapuia dining room at Ngapuaiwaha pa, Taumarunui. It was formally accepted by tribal elders, Messrs Titi Tihu and Rawiri Hemopo at a welcoming ceremony extended to the Parliamentary Committee on Maori Affairs when the committee visited the Central King Country in April.

During the Taumarunui section of its tour the committee, led by the chairman, Mr A. McCready, M.P. for Otaki, visited land development schemes and met settlers. Guided by Maori leaders, Mr P. J. Hura, O.B.E., Dr Pei te H. Jones, O.B.E., and Mr Brian H. Jones, the committee inspected the Manunui scheme and the Hikurangi station, later calling at Waimiha.

At a welcome at Ngapuaiwaha pa, speeches of welcome were given by local elders and Mrs I. M. Ratana, M.P., replied on behalf of the visitors. The waiata at the end of her address was given by the Secretary for Maori Affairs, Mr J. M. McEwen.

A large gathering was present and discussed matters of interest with the committee.

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RECORDS

MEET THE MAORI

Viking VPX 257 12 in, 33 ⅓ LP Mono with booklet

Booklet-cum-records such as this have much to commend them. All too often, Maori Music is presented in a colourfully illustrated cover with a list of titles on the reverse, which are quite meaningless to the average non-Maori listener, and without a word of explanation to distinguish an action song from a haka taparahi. For all the uninitiated know, these could be Incan fertility rites!

‘Meet the Maori’, however, goes a stage beyond the simple explanation on the record cover. It shows (in black and white), performers doing the types of items featured on the disc, along with a simply written explanation of the origin, significance and

method of performance of each type of item, and then deals specifically with the particular song or dance on the recording. These items appear to have been selected to illustrate all facets of Maori musical activity. Thus there are karanga and powhiri, poi dances, stick games, a karakia, a nose flute item, a Maori alphabet song (to illustrate the Maori language), a chant, hymn, haka taparahi and several action songs.

This is of course not the record to buy if one wants a good old sing-along in Maori and indeed it has no pretensions in that direction. However, the items are tuneful and easy to listen to and the more traditional numbers are not presented at length. The record also features a number of different groups, thus avoiding the sameness of approach often heard on a record containing only one party.

With so much to commend about this record, what a pity that Viking, in selecting the colour photographs, did not maintain the standard. The front cover depicts several heavy-weight ‘warriors’ in close up, posturing at one another in a half-hearted way, their faces adorned with bogus and badly executed tattoo. The two-page centre spread is even worse. A collection of elderly ladies — the combined weight of which in the aggregate must be considerable — are shown in front of a rather seedy meeting house. There are also several men in the group, the most conspicuous of whom is not making any attempt to perform the actions. He wears no piupiu or waist mat but only trousers rolled up to the knees under a cloak — ‘not a pretty sight’, as they used to say on the old Goon Show.

If you overlook the coloured photos, however, this is a well put-together and recorded production which should fulfil a need. For those whose interest in Maori music is a little more than average it offers a neat package of text and recorded illustration.

MEET THE SAMOAN

Viking VPX 12 in. 33 ⅓ LP Mono with booklet

This is doubtless intended as a companion to the previously reviewed recording. However, there are some significant differences. Firstly the text, which in ‘Meet the Maori’ deals almost exclusively with Maori song

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and dance, is, in this booklet, giving a kind of tourist-eye view of Samoa under such chapter headings as ‘The Two Samoas’, ‘Historical Notes’, ‘Meet the People, ‘Sining, Dancing and Sports’, ‘Let's go to Feast’, ‘The Kava Ceremony’, etc.

The text itself is in light-hearted vein, yet packs quite a bit of information into four large pages. In comparison with ‘Meet the Maori’, the illustrations are in colour throughout and although the captions are brief, they do seem to capture the mood of Samoa and its people.

The description of the items on the record is also somewhat sketchy. They are mostly modern songs and feature a number of groups. Played directly after ‘Meet the Maori’, this record does highlight the contrast in the musical styles of the Maoris and Samoans. The Samoan tends towards the Melanesian style of singing with its tight harmonies and numerous short verses of different words but the same tune. The items are primarily in a light-hearted and foot-tapping vein (Sample titles in English; ‘How happy I am’, ‘Wiggle Wiggle’, ‘Vision of a Lovely Girl’). Indeed the record well illustrates a paragraph of the text which says:

‘Nowadays it is difficult for the visitor to tell whether he is watching a performance of genuine Samoan singing and dancing or a local adaptation of something from Waikiki, Tin Pan Alley or Papeete. Samoans, with the typical Polynesian genius for adaptation, quickly shape to their own uses any aspect of another culture which appeals to them. This has happened in religion, games, dancing and music — particularly the latter. However, whatever the importation, it always undergoes some modification which appropriately adapts it to fa'a Samoan — The Samoan Way’.

In this characteristic genius for adaptation, the Samoans are indeed very much akin to their Maori cousins!

BOOKS

THE MAORI PEOPLE IN THE NINE-
TEEN-SIXTIES: a symposium edited by Erik Schwimmer

The Maori People in the Nineteen-Sixties is a collection of essays by 15 contributors. The main emphasis is on the changes that have taken place in the period from 1940 to the present. The editor, Erik Schwimmer, writes that it was decided ‘not to study the Maori as though they formed a self-contained group, but to concentrate on the relationship between the Maori minority and the Pakeha majority’. He points out that since Maori and Pakeha to a significant extent form two distinct social groups, and since these groups are in frequent intensive contact with one another, what looks like a “Maori problem” is likely to be ‘essentially a strain or stress between the two groups, or resulting tension within groups and within individuals’.

This is to say that a study of the Maori must also take into account the Pakeha, and the relationships existing between Maori and Pakeha. This is an important point that has not always been fully understood or explored in the past. It was an excellent idea to take it as the basis for a book of this kind.

Scholars and writers were invited to choose an area of intercultural stress, and to analyse it. There is an impressive line-

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up of experts, who write on a wide variety of subjects. For example, John Harre writes about Maori-Pakeha intermarriage. His study of mixed marriages taking place in Auckland gives us much interesting information about them. In the year in which he conducted his survey, 42 per cent of the Maoris who married in Auckland, married Pakehas. The evidence available suggests that Maori-Pakeha marriages are no more liable to breakdown than any others, and that those in-laws who at first opposed the marriage, nearly always lost their prejudiced attitudes once a close relationship was established.

I. H. Kawharu, also writing about Auckland, discusses the relationship existing between tangata whenua and Maori immigrants coming to live in the city. He describes the complex situation in which each group finds itself, and points out that the relationship between the two groups, which is fundamentally a new one, is of much importance in the development of stable Maori organisation in urban areas. Despite their differences, the two groups have many interests in common. In particular, there are two needs that they both share. These are, firstly, benefits accruing from regional and national organisations; and secondly, a marae serving as the indispensable stage for social occasions.

The growth of the Maori population and its movements to the cities are examined by J. R. McCreary, who notes that in assessing population growth, one problem concerns the widely varying legal definitions of a ‘Maori’. Some definitions include half-castes; some include any descendant of a Maori; and in at least one regulation, a European married to a Maori may be administratively regarded as a Maori.

There are several theoretical contributions. Ralph Piddington discusses the processes by which pre-literate societies adjust to European culture, and the different senses in which the term ‘integration’ may be understood. A short article by the late Ernest Beaglehole covers somewhat similar ground, but comes to rather different conclusions. A long introductory essay by Erik Schwimmer discusses ‘The Aspirations of the Contemporary Maori’, and John Forster writes on ‘The Social Position of the Maori’.

John Forster's article is very clearly written and is, I think, especially interesting. He briefly reviews the social and economic changes experienced by the Maori in the last 200 years, and shows how similar the Maori situation has become to the situation of native populations in other ‘settlement colonies’ such as the United States, Canada and Australia. In this way he puts the matter in a broader perspective, showing that the position of the Maori population is not unique in either its origins or its present condition. He makes several other points that seem of particular importance. One is that the position of the Pakeha population is constantly changing, and that the pressure of international events beyond New Zealand's control will force changes upon us all, Pakeha and Maori alike. He also (like several other writers in the book) emphasises the complexity and diversity of Maori experience. There is much variation from one part of the country to another; and there is much uncertainty as to who in fact is a Maori. In view of this, and because the Maori position does so much resemble that of other indigenous minority groups, he suggests the possibility that ‘the peculiarities which can be isolated in the psyche of the Maori are not a function of their being Maori, but are, instead, the result of being poor’.

There are useful essays by Ian Prior on questions on health; James and Jane Ritchie on patterns of child-rearing; James Ritchie on Maori work and employment, and associated values; and Erik Schwimmer on ‘The Maori and Government’. Bruce Biggs writes on ‘The Maori Language Past and Present’, dealing with such topics as the dialects of Maori, its relationships with other Polynesian languages, its grammar and literature. In an account of the effects of the education system, Professor Biggs tells how the Native Schools Amendment Act of 1871

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‘marked the beginning of the policy of prohibiting the use of Maori in the schools, with the aim of replacing Maori by English as the language not only of the school but of all situations…. The Education Department declared total war on the Maori language’. He describes the present situation, discusses the thorny topic of the long vowel controversy, and considers the future of the language: ‘As its general use declines it may well be that its ritual and ceremonial use will become more important. It is certain that scholarly study of the language will increase, for it seems in the nature of things that we value our treasures most as they pass from us’.

Katarina Mataira discusses the changes taking place in Maori art forms, and describes the work of some contemporary Maori artists. Bill Pearson traces Pakeha attitudes towards the Maori as they are reflected in literature during the years 1938–65, and also discusses recent writing by Maoris. Arapera Blank, in an essay that is also a short story, provides a vivid memorable account of culture conflict within an individual. In an article entitled ‘Maori Kings’, Pei Te Hurinui Jones has written a most valuable account of the Maori King Movement. This is an important contribution to Maori history, and will be of permanent value.

The Maori People in the Nineteen-Sixties contains so much excellent material on such a wide range of subjects that it will be an indispensable book for the serious student of Maori matters.

THE END OF THE HARBOUR

Elsie Locke has made a good show of turning the history books' pages into real people whose words and actions will catch the imagination of youthful readers.

The story is seen through the eyes of a young English lad, David Learwood, whose father and mother have come from England to work in the hotel in Waiuku, at that time a British Trading Post on the fringe of the Pakeha settlement in the Manakau Harbour.

The book is about the growing pains of the new settlement and their effect on Pakeha and Maori. The Pakehas' wish to extend their holding is balanced by the Maoris' fear that their land will be taken by force as rumours of fighting in Taranaki cause mounting tension throughout the colony. Matters are brought more to a head when Eriata is found, shot dead. Evidence points to a British settler and it is only after a display of reason and oratory by an elder that the young Maoris are restrained from seeking their own revenge. The Maoris pin their hopes on the British law which they accepted with the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi and they are sadly disillusioned by it. As the book closes, the Waikato people and the British are headed towards an inevitable war.

The author is unobtrusive, allowing the story to unfold itself through the happenings witnessed by David Learwood. For example, the narrator does not directly describe the effects of European diseases on the Maori population; we see for ourselves as David does when he goes out in the middle of the night to help the doctor tending the sick. More subtly revealed are the ideas and attitudes of the people amongst whom David lives. These are mostly brought to our understanding through snatches of conversation overheard by David, and a good deal of the Maori viewpoint becomes increasingly clear as we follow the adventures of his friend Hona. Attitudes are also brought out by such things as the Pakeha reluctance to allow the Maori congregation into their church, the uncomprehending feeling of hurt this produces and the Maoris' gradual realisation that some ostensibly religious people are in fact hypocritical. We see the ignorance and fear of a section of the Pakeha community through the reactions of David's mother who won't go outside the hotel because she is scared of the natives and doesn't like her son to mix with them. We learn of Maori social values and customs when the compassionate Maori-speaking Dr Topp talks to David of his medical practice among Maoris and Pakehas and when the patient old Ahipene thinks aloud to David.

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The vocabulary and sentence structure of this short novel are bright, clear, and easy to read. The characters are clearly outlined and if they are a little uncomplicated to be identifiable with living people as we know them, it is all in the interests of simplicity. Besides, this sort of presentation has the advantage of allowing the characters to stand for groups in the community which is the world of the story, instead of standing alone as individuals who represent only themselves.

I have some doubts about the pace of the novel. It may move a little slowly for the younger readers who will take events and words at face value without seeing how they reflect the thoughts and anxieties of the people concerned. On the other hand it may be that such a reader would be led on by the nose to the end of the book as Elsie Locke makes him curiouser and curiouser to see just what does lie around the corner as the story takes another twist or turn.

I cannot hope to appraise the historical accuracy of The End of the Harbour but the author's grounding in writing for the Department of Education's School Publications Branch will, I am sure, have made it instinctive for her to check her facts. It is evident from the author's acknowledgements that she has spent a good deal of time in research in libraries in several parts of the country and in talking to descendants of the people she writes about in this book. She spent her own childhood in Waiuku. There is a ring of authenticity about the story's portrayal of Maori life as it was then without degrading it to the level of a tourist attraction for overseas readers to gawk at.

A good Christmas present if you want to show a younger reader that New Zealand's colonial history is about people and not just dates and documents.

GUIDE RANGI OF ROTORUA

Who is Guide Rangi? Read her book and you will know the answer.

Guide Rangi is written in such a simple and easy to read style that even children can enjoy it. The many photographs of Rangi provide interesting material — especially the ones of her taken with different members of the Royal Family.

In her book, Guide Rangi begins by saying, … ‘I was born in the fashion of my ancestors, in a tiny thatched house at Ngapuna…. ‘Then she goes on to relate her early life as a ‘tapu’ child.

She tells of Te Wairoa and Teariki, the two villages on beautiful Lake Tarawera and the disaster that struck when Tarawera erupted in 1886.

Her grandfather Tene was a Ringatu, and his religion influenced her younger life so much that she respectfully writes about it in her book.

Her account of penny divers and their, ‘Throw a penny here’, and ‘a penny a haka’, makes interesting reading.

Rangi's early school days at Whakarewarewa were something to remember. She was different. She was tapu; so the other children had to be careful. However, her schooling did not suffer. This was largely due to the guiding influence of her teachers, the Rev. Burgoyne and his three daughters, Connie, Nettie and Gertrude. Connie was their idol, as she could speak flawless Maori.

Rangitiaria pays tribute to the people who influenced her life; her grandfather Tene, Maggie Papakura, and Chief Nuta Taupopoki — … ‘like a sunburned Viking King …’

Rangi spent her secondary school years at Hukarere and from there she went teaching, but ill-health forced her to give it up. So nursing became her next occupation, but a recurrence of her old illness once more ruined a promising career. A very dejected Rangi went home to Whakarewerewa and tourism.

In the latter chapters, Guide Rangi tells how she became a guide; of Tene building her a home; of the small but dynamic Scottish district nurse, Sister R. T. Cameron; of the Arawa women uniting in response to tourism; of her wartime interest in ‘the boys’; of her globe-trotting experiences, and last but by no means least of her acting as guide to famous visitors.

Chapter 13 is devoted to Wakarewerewa today.

As I read Guide Rangi, I could almost see her giving all this wealth of information

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to Ross Annabel, the man who so ably helped write her memoirs.

Finally, one can only assume that the book went to print before Guide Rangi was awarded the O.B.E. for her services to the Maori people.

A NIGHT AT GREEN RIVER

The dust jacket of Noel Hilliard's latest novel tells us that his earlier novels have been praised by the Times Literary Supplement, by Geoffrey Moorhouse in the Guardian, by Professors J. C. Reid (Auckland University), and Joan Stevens (Victoria University of Wellington), and H. Winston Rhodes (Canterbury University). I am sure this one will be just as widely acclaimed.

The story itself is very simple and unfolds during the short space of an afternoon and a night. During those few hours the author has shown what the ‘Maoriness’ of the Maori is and what he thinks of the Pakeha. It shows fairly and without sympathy the ‘Pakehatanga’ of the cow cocky Clyde Hastings and his weary day-dreaming wife; his uncompromising set of monetary values and her atrophied affection and emotions. Clyde asks Tiwha Morris and his relatives to ‘do a job for him’ — to help him get his hay in when they have finished their own. Politely they accept. ‘I'll offer them ten bob an hour and make any broken time up to the hour.’ He offers a ‘fair day's wage for a fair day's work’. Later Tiwha was to muse, ‘He could have said — “I have a lot of hay to shift and I cannot do it on my own as you very well know; will you lend me a hand?” But he did not. He chose to say instead — “I will lease you, HIRE you for an hour, two hours….” ‘Tiwha ‘could never hold out his hand for notes and coins without hearing the unspoken comment on the transaction — “This is what you are worth to me.” ‘

Similarly, attitudes to such things as having children come out.

‘Ruby was Purei's sister. She had been in Auckland for a while working as a housemaid and got mixed up with some Pakeha and came home to have her baby. A good little fellow he was too, although too much tangi-tangi at times. He was an illegitimate baby. And was there an illegitimate tree, too, for instance, or an illegitimate bird, or an illegitimate flower?’

Tiwha's relatives go inside when they have finished their hay. The meal is ready. The children play. The beer tastes good and they sing. Clyde Hastings and his hay recede to the back of the mind.

And there we might have left them: Clyde Hastings boiling with a bitter pecuniary rage as he hears the singing in the distance and watches the rain ruin his hay while his wife emerges from her private world of might-have-been long enough to infer — ‘I told you so’; and Tiwha and his friends living life to the full with kids, songs, beer, food, smells, tastes, and sounds. But the story takes a twist which brings both groups and both sets of values into a head-on crash. In the crisis which follows, we are shown how, when the chips are down, the differences don't matter — just as it was during the war in Egypt which Clyde and Tiwha both reflect upon as ex-soldiers. The fight between Clyde and Tu is a physical manifestation of their cultural collision. The upturning of the Hastings’ china cabinet during the fight in the ‘best room’ is an extravagant symbol of the sweeping aside of Clyde and Edith's dead-loss bric-a-brac, both the porcelain kind and the mental ones.

The story also brings home to the born city-dweller, be he Maori or Pakeha, the reality of the old tapus and conventions. Tiwha made certain he did not touch Martha's body while he and Roimata, his wife, helped her in labour. We go back to Tiwha's schooldays, when he wondered how the teacher couldn't see it was wrong to cuff him on the head instead of strapping him on the hand.

Noel Hilliard tells the story from the two viewpoints of Clyde and Tiwha. This book hits below the belt at both Maori and Pakeha. It is not to be read by those who want to believe that all Maoris are happy, loving, and genial; they would be upset by, say, Tu's drunken brutality. Nor would the book ring true for those who want all Pakehas to be seen as efficient, unfeeling, and greedy. The opposite stereotype — that Europeans are intelligent and industrious, while Maoris are slovenly and ‘inferior’ —

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is equally demolished. At the climax of the story, at the moment of collision, all that is sheared off and the real people underneath are shown up.

The writing is exact and economical. The conversation is alive….

‘You must be using a front end loader to fill your bank with money, man.’

‘I've got no money.’

‘How for you getting TV then?’

‘It will be very nice to look at until the Pakeha come to take it back.’

The imagery is profuse and so pungent that after putting the book down, my head was spinning with colours, smells, sounds and pictures even though the novel is only a little longer than some short stories. There is a good sprinkling of Maori words and phrases throughout the conversation and a glossary might be of help to overseas readers and non-Maori-speaking New Zealanders who lamentably do not own a Maori dictionary, or unfortunately have no Maori friends from whom they would hear these terms.

My sole criticism is that towards the end of the book the pungency of the imagery and the symbolism may be a little overwhelming — it might be poured on a bit thick — but the shortness of the novel prevents the author from getting out of his depth in this respect.

The moral of the story, if there is one, is that neither the Maori or Pakeha way of looking at things is better or worse than the other — just different.

The book is exciting, carries a hefty thump and in parts is very funny. I could not put it down until I had finished reading it.

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CROSSWORD No. 64

WHAKAPAE

1. Quiet, peaceful (10)
7. Good (3)
9. Way, path (3)
10. Avenged, paid for (2)
11. Silent, exhausted; a game (2)
12. A long time ago; from ancient times (8)
16. Wait a while; be waited for (5)
17. Int. expressing admiration etc. (5)
18. Greet (4)
19. Tight, fast; Chirp of cicada (4)
20. Digging stick (2)
21. Replied, answered (4)
22. Younger brother (5)
24. Urge on (3)
25. Progeny, descendants (7)
28. Rain (2)
29. Dash, aim a blow at; whip a top (2)
31. Morning (3)
32. Unripe, uncooked (3)
34. Ask (2)
35. Middle of the night (7)
39. Away from (3)
41. Shake, quiver (2)
42. Rapid, ripple; streams coming together (4)
43. Move swiftly, fly (5)
44. However, but (5)
47. Ebb, ebbing; shoulder, tail (4)
48. Largest lake in N.Z. (5)
49. Put out the lips, pout (2)
51. Freckle, mole; glitter (3)
52. Night (2)
53. The lake Hinemoa swam over (7)
54. Unlucky; misfortune; omen (5)

Picture icon

Solution to No. 63

WHAKARARO

1. Black lava, scoria; Island in Auckland harbour (9)
2. Mind (3)
3. Treacherous, crafty, reckless (7)
4. Sea (5)
5. Spring up, grow; multiply; make a low sound (3)
6. Current (2)
7. Hold on (7)
8. Maui changed him into a dog (7)
11. Cloak covered with pigeon feathers (10)
13. Giddy, headache (5)
14. Look steadily; habitual; show attachment to (7)
15. Your (2)
16. Cabbage tree; overcome; squeak; tingle; (2)
18. For (2)
23. When (3)
26. Descendants (3)
27. Face in a certain direction; go, come (3)
30. Stage, platform (7)
33. Knowing; quick witted; behave contemptuously (6)
35. Kneel, bend; be moist, drip (6)
36. I, me (2)
37. Ridge broadside on to speaker; dividing range (6)
38. Your (pl.) (2)
40. White clay (3)
41. Long (3)
43. Finished, completed (3)
45. Sweetheart (3)
46. Lake (4)
48. Male animal; brave, stormy (5)
50. Side boards of a canoe (2)
52. Gun (2)

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