Today we went to the Waitangi treaty site. In (very condensed and simplified) summary, this is where, about 180 years ago, the British officials in New Zealand brought together many of the most powerful Maori leaders in the region and signed a treaty making them a colony of the British crown (in the English-language version of the treaty) or a sovereign nation with the right to claim the crown’s protection (in the Maori-language version). This dichotomy is interesting because it was simultaneously a way to slip colonial status past the Maori's attention while also protecting their rights. My not-completely informed take on this is that it really wasn’t just choosing wording to trick the Maori, but rather a way to bring people together when this was required by the situation (with French and American interests starting to poke around and often treating the Maori as non-persons). In practice, it’s been one of those agreements that has worked well when it was enforced, and not so well when it was inconvenient to the Europeans. Like most international agreements, if you think about it.

The treaty site is a beautiful patch of headland that slopes down into the northern end of the Bay of Islands, and is about a half hour walk from our hostel. It has a decent museum that balances the European and Maori sides of the history reasonably well. What it doesn’t do (at least in the parts we had time to visit) is describe the negative impacts on the Maori in the past century, since the overall theme seems to be that “things aren’t perfect, but at least we’re trying to work together.” Again, a gross oversimplification, but good enough for blogging purposes. The larger point seems to be that the government took the "reconciliation" notion currently underway in Canada, but started it 40+ years earlier than we did (ca. 1974) and is therefore muh farther along the road than we are. And we also get the sense the Maori weren't treated nearly as abominably as North American aboriginal peoples.

We had an interesting and thought-provoking tour hosted by our Maori docent. I had trouble with his accent, but thought he said we should call him "Mitch", but Shoshanna's hearing is better and she heard “Mooks”. So Mooks it will be. After the tour ended, I asked him about his experience as a Maori in New Zealand. He largely confirmed my description, but also added some personal notes on how he feels that some Maori still pass resentment over their treatment by the Europeans from generation to generation, never letting the wounds heal. He prefers to take the optimistic “not perfect, but we’re making progress” attitude, and believes deeply in this approach. And he seems happy and passionate about his work as an educator of tourists like us. I talked to him a few times over the course of the day, and found his optimistic sense of hope inspiring.

We poked around the house of James Busby, the British “resident” who had established a British footprint in Aoteoroa, “the (is)land of the long white cloud”. The impression I get is that New Zealand wasn’t yet important enough to England to merit a full-blown diplomatic mission in the 1830s, complete with small army to provide persuasion when necessary (the Maori referred to Busby as "the general without an army"), but was important enough to merit someone to keep an eye on things until the new land merited a governor. That governor did arrive eventualy, ca. 1840, but first there were missionaries, who seem to have been far less toxic than most Christian missionaries elsewhere in the world, though (of course) they were really their to convert the Maori to Christian souls. (Mooks later told us that most Maori were now Christian, though many, and particularly some of the youth, were questioning this and embracing the old ways again.) From the information provided on the site, Busby seems to have honestly respected the Maori and done his best on their behalf before he was replaced by the governor and the machinery of colonialism moved into high gear.

From the Busby house, we went to a cultural performance. This begins with the te wero, which is a ritual challenge in which a Maori warrior comes forth from the meeting house and exhibits his martial prowess by running through a series of kata using a weapon that combines a short wooden staff with a wooden sword blade at one end and wooden spear point at the other. The movements are very similar to the Japanese martial arts I’ve studied, combining aspects of short staff (jo) and katana. There’s undoubtedly some shared “genetic” background, since such techniques would have diffused throughout Asia, but it’s also true that physics dictates only a limited number of potential movements that would be effective in combat. After finishing his kata, which demonstrate an impressive combination of speed and power and control, the warrior then deposites a token of peace—a fern or tree leaf in the examples we saw—for the visitor to pick up, showing that they accept the peace offering. Then everyone goes into the meeting house and engages in diplomatic relations and feasting.

That’s the theory. In practice, Captain James Cook died when his guards misinterpreted the show of force as a native winding himself up before an attack, and shot the emissary—to be clear, this also being a possibility in meetings between Maori groups, though minus the guns—and died in the ensuing battle. For tourists, the process is more peaceful. The guide asks for someone to volunteer as “chief”, whose role is to stand stoic instead of cringing before the warrior or defending himself, and is carefully told to treat this seriously. The haka is part of the training of the young men who are learning the old ways, not a theatrical performance to entertain tourists. One of the nice things about Waitangi is that it seems to be primarily Maori-led, and thus serious and respectful of their customs.

After the peace offering has been accepted, the tourists enter the meeting house. We’re asked to leave any food and drink outside, with our shoes, so I did, but I’m sure others ignored this request, and nobody checked. Inside the house, which is lavishly carved and decorated with beautiful simplicity, we were treated to a show of singing, storytelling, martial arts, and juggling. Interestingly, the Maori have adoped guitars as part of their musical repertoire, in addition to foot stamping and sticks beaten together instead of drums and beautiul vocal harmonies. It’s all highly polished and impressive. Afterwards, we visited the museum, then headed home for rest and a shower.

We’d purchased a combination ticket that gave us access to the grounds during the day, followed by a dinner feast (hangi) and additional cultural performance in the evening. The chef gave us a full description of the process. The food for the hangi is cooked in a pit that’s a couple feet deep and lined with rocks: lava stones where available, and river stones where not. The stones are covered with wood, which burns down to ashes and leaves the rocks heated to about 250°C. Food is then wrapped in various natural fibers (such as New Zealand flax, but nowadays most often cotten) and placed upon the stones, and 3 to 5 hours later, is removed from the pit and served. Our feast was watercress, silver beet tops, sweet potatoes, squash, chicken, lamb, and pork. All very good.

While the feast was being finalized, we were treated to the second cultural performance of the day. This time, since we began near the entry to the complex and walked through beautiful sunset woodland to reach the meeting house, we faced three haka, each representing different Maori deities: one for forests, one for uncultivated food, and one for war. Then a repeat of the singing and dancing, but with different songs and actions. Just as polished, and with many of the same performers. Since Mooks started his day before 11 AM, when we took the tour, and was still there going on 8 PM when the hangi wound down, these guys clearly put in long days. Then we walked back downhill through the twilight to the dinner, which was laid out as a buffet. At which we pigged out, before being delivered home by a shuttle bus from the museum.

Tomorrow's plan: sea kayaking, weather permitting.

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March 26: Paihia and surrounds

Previously: March 25

Next installment: March 27

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