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THE
MATARIKI LONG WEEKEND
June 20, 2003
WAIROA'S VERY FIRST MATARIKI
WEEK is officially in full swing77. They've been
doing it down the Bay in Hastings for a number of years, thanks
to the leadership (and, dare I say, commercial acumen) of
one Te Rangi Huata, but this is the first time the event has
come up here to the heart of the Maori heartland, to Wairoa.
Events
commenced last weekend with a dawn ceremony atop Mount Whakapunake,
high above Te Reinga falls and the Ruakituri valley. Those
gathered watched the rise of the Matariki stars—otherwise known as Pleiades, or the Seven Sisters—after
which feathers of peace were brought down the mountain to
reside in the Wairoa Museum for the duration of the celebrations.
The feathers were paraded into town with a Ratana brass brand
in tow, and are now placed amongst "The Cuz Exhibition",
a wonderful little display of traditional and modern artworks
by people from whanau in and around tiny little Rangiahua
(a “blink and you miss it” settlement just up the Wairoa valley)78.
Other
Matariki events have included a fashion show at the Gaiety
Theatre and a cook off at Wairoa College. Shops up and down
the (recently spruced up) main street have created window
displays for the event, which are remarkably exquisite in
their presentation and content—the best are a mix of art, historic photographs
and "found objects" (kete, kumara, paua shells,
pumice rock) presented as Autumnal cornucopia. Tonight, the
celebrations end with a night of performance, stalls and fireworks,
which are actually just a precursor to a weekend of Kapa Haka
Maori performance regionals at the Wairoa Community Centre.
So
what is Matariki?
For
the uninitiated, Matariki is a traditional Maori "New
Year" celebration when the seasons turn and the stellar
universe above makes a journey of sorts. Here’s an extract
from a compendium of Maori legends and lore79:
Matariki means literally "Little eyes" or "Little points."
For people in many parts of Aotearoa, the [stars] appearance
at dawn (or sometimes the new moon after their appearance)
marked the end of the old year and the beginning of the new.
Matariki is usually a woman. The seven stars were often regarded
as Matariki and her six daughters, though others considered
the entire group to be a single female. Near the end of the
Maori year, in mid-April, she was lost to sight in the west
in the evening, then near the end of May she became visible
in the east shortly before dawn80.
In traditional Maori society, communities set up watch
for Matariki. An hour before dawn those on watch would look
to the horizon for the twinkling eyes of Matariki and if it
was clear and bright, then a good season would be ahead, a
good year of bounty and growth. If it was clouded, then perhaps
the year would be less bountiful81.
Matariki
is a time for contemplation of the year now passed, and remembrance
of the people we have lost over that time. It should also
be a time of celebration and renewal for the year ahead:
The end of the year was identified with Matariki's disappearance in the
west as darkness came on—and
these were the direction and the time of day traditionally
associated with death and sorrow. The start of the new year
was marked by her reappearance in the north-east before dawn—this
direction and time being associated with light, life and wellbeing.
The new year began... close to the time of the shortest day,
when the light was about to return.
So Matariki was not only a means of measuring time,
but a manner by which the spatial dimensions of Aotearoa were
thought of. The East Coast— Tairawhiti, Ngati Porou,
Kahungunu—is
the first to see the light, the place of the dawning of life.
The West Coast—Taranaki, Waikato, Tainui—is
the space of life closure, of life's end, of sunset. So my
experience of Matariki, here on the East Coast—the
place of “first light”—is
therefore quite different to those of people to the west.
Matariki
has also been celebrated as a time of feasting:
It is recorded that in Taranaki the old people would watch in midwinter
for Matariki to appear at dawn. They might watch for several
nights before this happened, and while waiting they would
make a small hangi (earth oven). When Matariki rose up, they
would weep and tell the stars the names of those who had died...
Then they would uncover the oven so that the scent of the
food would rise and strengthen Matariki who were weak and
cold.
One would assume they would then feast on the food
in honour of Matariki.
One
overall conclusion that I have arrived at is that Matariki
cannot be oversimplified. It was celebrated and marked by
a pre-European society that lived much more in tune with the
passing of the seasons, and that—without the trappings
of modern electric lighting—lived each day with a much greater spiritual sense of dark and
light. The emerging stars, the rise, fall and turning of the
moon, the rise and setting of the sun. Different iwi (tribes)
marked Matariki in different ways. Matariki must be learned
about and explored, and, indeed, its evolution in the future
will be affected by how this pattern of knowledge expands.
Tirohia
atu nei, ka whetuarangitia Matariki Te whitu o te tau e whakamoe
mai ra. He homai anu rongo kia komai atu au—Ka
mate nei au i te matapouri, i te mataporehu o roto i a au!
See
where Matariki are risen over the horizon, The seven of the
year winking up there. They come with their message so I can
rejoice. Here I am full of sorrow, full of sadness within!82
Why
is Matariki reemerging as an event in Aotearoa NZ?
Despite
cultural colonisation, Matariki continued as a tradition among
Maori communities well into the late 1800s. It has been recorded
that one old lady carried on the Taranaki tradition of Matariki
hangi until her death in about 1940. But it has only been
over the past four or five years that Matariki has reemerged
as a community event and celebration.
Te
Taura Whiri i Te Reo Maori (the Maori Language Commission)
and Te Papa (the NZ National Museum) can take a lot of the
credit for the rebirth of Matariki. The Commission has provided
information on Matariki to Maori communities through kohanga
reo (Maori language nests) and kura kaupapa (total immersion
Maori schools). Te Papa is expanding Matariki to a wider audience,
such as through a gorgeous calendar published annually (the
months run June to June, not January to December) and a range
of events in Wellington. Celebrations are spreading, and this
year have included significant gatherings in Auckland, Taumarunui,
Hastings, and Wairoa.
Hastings
iwi have achieved astounding commercial success with Matariki.
They held a "Mahinarangi Moonbeams" outdoor celebration,
with fireworks and entertainment including lit-up balloons;
a street party; a Kahungunu Winter Ball; and food and art
workshops. There is a proposal to light up Te Mata Peak (above
Hastings) as a part of future celebrations.
It
seems that Matariki can only go from strength to strength
in future. Whether it evolves into a form of permanent “Maori
New Year” or “Aotearoa Thanksgiving” celebration remains to
be seen.
Te
Rangi Huata, Matariki entrepreneur in Hastings, has lots of
ideas for it, including a "Maori Halloween" and
the idea of making it a national holiday. I strongly support
the idea of making it a national holiday. There is a huge
potential for Matariki to change our national culture and
provide a positive Maori celebration that shifts us away from
the negativity, conflict and dwelling upon past wrongs that
happens each year with Waitangi Day83.
Aotearoa
NZ today is stuck with the trappings of European northern
hemisphere culture in a place down under and back-to-front.
Our holidays all celebrate the wrong things at the wrong time.
Christmas in the sand (not snow), New Year's at the peak of
summer (not winter), Easter as the leaves start to turn (and
the bunnies start contemplating hibernation) and Halloween
with daffodils.
We
light up our houses with christmas lights in December, but
have to wait until 10 p.m. at night to go out and see them.
Try lighting up a tree outside (as I did last Xmas) and the
brightness is dimmed by thick summer foliage. Light them up
now—as
I've done, since I've been much too lazy to remove them—and they're magically transformed into
lit twigs of Matariki light (hopefully, I'll start a trend).
And the luminous magic starts at 5.00 p.m.84
We
don’t have any kind of Thanksgiving celebration, as the US
and Canada do. I lived in the States for five years, and remember
Thanksgiving most fondly of all the northern hemisphere celebrations.
Free from the commercial trappings of Christmas, free from
religious elements which might cause conflict in a nation
of peoples with so many different beliefs, Thanksgiving was
simply a time of the year to gather with friends and families
and celebrate and look back on the year gone by. Both the
times of happiness, as well as the times of sadness and tragedy.
Living
in San Francisco, one of the things that really touched me
was how the seasons connected with the celebrations. Easter
was in the bright newness of Spring. Halloween was when the
huge Autumn "Harvest Moon" would rise up over the
horizon. New Year's marked the depths of Winter. And Christmas
came at just the right time to brighten up the gloomy darkness
of long nights.
Americans
go all out at Christmas to brighten up their homes, inside
and out. It almost reaches a level of madness, the amount
of Christmas lights people put over their homes and apartments.
In a big dense city like San Francisco, just after Thanksgiving,
people's homes would burst into light and excitement. Just
when I'd start getting depressed about my bus journey home
in darkness, the sparkling, twinkling lights of christmas
would take over the town. It becomes a time of celebration
and light and happiness.
Perhaps
Aotearoa NZ could transform Matariki into something like the
experiences one has living in the northern hemisphere? Light
up your home, to reflect the stars being born up above. Get
together with family and friends and give thanks for another
year over. Remember those you have aroha (love) for that you
have lost, and make a prayer—in whatever way you feel comfortable—for a year of peace ahead.
I
see Matariki in ten or twenty years time as some kind of Christmas
meets New Years meets Halloween meets Thanksgiving that is
all of these events, but none of them. It is none of them,
because it is Matariki, something unique that we can call
our own. If we make it a long weekend, it can become a time
of reflection, relaxation and release where we let go of the
tensions and struggles of the year just gone. Where we reflect
on our achievements, and our hopes for the future.
Matariki
won’t make up for our mixed up celebrations calendar, but
it does promise to provide us with something that's uniquely
about “us”. It is universal to Maori and Pakeha, because we
all live with the opposite shifting of seasons. It can be
a Thanksgiving feast, it can be the light and happiness of
a winter Christmas, it could even be a little bit of Halloween
dress-up and bereavement grief catharsis85. Let’s
start by lobbying our politicians to make it a holiday. And
tell them not to be chinsy about it -- let’s make it two days,
say a Thursday and a Friday?86
And
commence the great kiwi tradition of the Matariki Long Weekend.
THE MATARIKI LONG WEEKEND
Nuhaka, Aotearoa New Zealand (20.6.2003)
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ABOUT
THIS SITE
Leo
Koziol (Rakaipaaka, Kahungunu) writes on identity,
spirit, culture, politics, place and ecology in Aotearoa NZ in the
21st Century.
This website brings together for the first time all of Leo Koziol's
essays, originally posted to Scoop.co.nz
under the banner of Naked in Nuhaka.
Nuhaka is located on the East Coast of the
North Island of Aotearoa New Zealand.
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