The following is a week in the life of Rangi. It is a story that tries to highlight issues facing Maori, two generations on from the novel Cousins. The story looks at three male cousins but focuses on Rangi’s point of view.
Rangi
Rangi walked slowly along Karangahape Road; a path he had trodden many times before. A path laiden with people from many a different world, some with direction and some without. It was the ones without, the ones who held plastic bags to their faces and sucked in all those fumes, they were the original people of this land, but oh what had become of them now. These people are of the same race as I, thought Rangi what circumstances could have caused them to be where they were now. The strong odour seeping from the plastic bags all void of hope but anaethitising the thoughts of all who breathed in, was almost enough to make Rangi faint. Rangi continued walking along the path towards the bus stop. Upon the bus stop wall he could not help but notice the portrait of the New Zealand all blacks. Rangi idolized these guys especially the one from his Iwi. That guy was living Rangi's dream, a dream that that was becoming ever more distant as a result of the constant pressure applied to Rangi by his parents. Rangi's parents wanted him to succeed in the Pakeha world so that he could make a difference for Maori and for himself. To make a difference meant that Rangi had to submit to the Pakeha's ways at least for now anyway. Rangi was destined to become a lawyer just like his uncle.
Rangi's uncle had seen the potential in Rangi from a very young age and his uncle had no children of his own but he had convinced the Whanau of the merits of giving Rangi the best education available. This meant Rangi would have to become conversant with the ways of both worlds, Pakeha and Maori. As a result Rangi had been privileged enough to learn much about his ancestors through regular contact with his elders on the Marae. Rangi had come to know the importance of the land and what it meant to his people as well the importance of Te Reo. Language preservation was a vital and integral part of his peoples' past present and future. Stories had to be told, no longer could Rangi's people just be considered as part of the flora and forna of this beautiful landscape.
For Rangi though, this meant that he was somewhat different to that of his cousins George and Joe. Rangi had fond memories of his cousins and the times they shared together in earlier days. Those times had gone now; they no longer went eeling along the streams that surrounded the Waipukurau Marae. George was now at Napier Boys High School and Joe was living in Flaxmere and had apparently dropped out of school. Rangi however had a lot riding on his shoulders and the pressure on him was immense as he tried to live up to the expectations of his Uncle who was paying for his private education at Te Aute College. Not only were there high expectations from his uncle but his Whanau were also expecting him to achieve just as other prominent Maori had in a college where Maori high achievers were created. Sometimes Rangi felt a little overwhelmed and wondered just what it would be like if he was walking in George's or Joe’s shoes.
Of course George often pondered what it would be like living the life of his cousin Rangi. George looked up to his cousin Rangi but now they seemed worlds apart. Rangi having even mastered the art of conversing in Maori something that many Maori growing up in the cities in times gone by had not had the opportunity to do. George had no excuse for not learning the language of his people and decided now was the time to do something about it. George had finished school for the day and had started the short walk home with his new Pakeha friend Jason.
When they got to Jason’s house, they could hear a women’s voice and she was scolding someone. Jason said “don’t worry about her she is a little over the top at times”. The women’s voice had got louder and the words that came out her mouth totally stunned George. The women had said “don’t leave the milk bottle on the table this is not a Maori house you know”. George looked at Jason, who had a face as red as a tomato. “Sorry about that mate” said Jason. George did not really know what to say, so he just said “no worries”. The situation had started to feel a little awkward by now and lead to Jason saying to George that perhaps they should catch up at school tomorrow. George walked down the drive, still a bit dismayed at what he had heard. George had wondered why he had said no worries mate to Jason when he really felt he should have confronted Jason’s mum and told her that her comments were not only insulting to Maori but they were also totally invalid. After all if she had ever watched an episode of Coronation Street she would realize that more often than not there are scenes that have milk bottles on the table and Christ thought George, the Brits are the bloody people who colonized us and introduced the milk bottle to New Zealand so where the hell was she coming from. George started to ask himself if Maori would ever be considered as equal to Pakeha when such ideology still existed in today’s society.
George slowly made his way back towards his home which was in an area called Marenui. George had lived here all his life, and so had generations of his Whanau. It was a state housing area and while many of the houses were of a similar look, George was proud of where he lived; both his parents had worked hard to put a roof over his head and his parents owned the house which had no milk bottle on the table. As George approached the gate of his house he tried to put the recent previous event out of his mind for now as it was not something he wanted to talk about with his parents.
George’s parents came from an era where, Maori language was not banned from being spoken in the school playground unlike their parents. George decided to tell his parents of his intention to learn Maori language. His parents reacted positively to the news but told him that he must not let his other subjects suffer as it was those other subjects and how well he did in them that would determine his future. George listened to what they said and wondered if his cousin Rangi put as much effort into his other subjects as he did Maori language but then he thought about it for a second and realized that Rangi was surrounded by people who spoke Maori and it was encouraged. George thought of how great it would be if he could speak to Rangi in Maori. Later that evening after George had finished his studying; he turned on the Television in his room and started to watch the Maori television channel. Thank god for subtitles he thought as he struggled to understand pretty much all of what was being said. Maori language did however sound like beautiful poetry to George’s ears even if he was not yet able to fully comprehend what was going on. That moment George’s mum yelled out that she was going to visit his cousins in Flaxmere and did he want to come. The last few times George had gone with his mother to visit his cousin Joe, it had turned out to be a waste of time as Joe was always out with his pothead friends. George had seen the changes in Joe since he had started hanging out with those guys and smoking pot.
Pot had changed Joe and his outlook on life. Joe had also had a few run INS with the boys in blue. Joe had grown up in a caring family but his father was never around much to keep him in line, so when he hit his teens it became very difficult for his mother to keep control of him. George had tried to get Joe away from his so called friends who seemed to be leading Joe towards a life of crime. George however could only do so much and by now had reluctantly come to the conclusion that Joe would end up like so many other Maori have before; a large percentage of New Zealand’s prison population. George replied to his mother by saying that he still had study to do so he would not go to Flaxmere with her tonight. George looked down from his upstairs bedroom window as his mother backed the car slowly down the driveway. He felt guilty even though he had done all he thought he could to help is cousin. Now he had to help himself; for if he helped himself he would also be able to help his people just like the Whanau expected his cousin Rangi to do.
Back in Auckland Rangi was coming to the end of his school holiday break. Tomorrow he would return to Te Aute Boy’s College where he would continue on his studies. As Rangi headed back to his parents’ home in New Market he passed the head quarters of Maori television. Rangi wondered what would become of Maori in New Zealand. Of next generations of Maori; would they have more than one television station? Would they have a voice in parliament? Would all their land grievances have been settled to both the satisfaction of Maori and Pakeha or was that just too much to expect? That night Rangi was watching the after news show on channel one and then heard a well respected Maori academic suggesting that all non Maori were guests in this country and that it should be up to Maori to decide who were allowed to immigrate to Aotearoa. This lady was very concerned about some of the racist attitudes that western peoples bring to Aotearoa and she specifically referred to white South Africans. Wow thought Rangi, “this lady is very brave to express such a point on main stream television, and I can imagine the backlash about to follow”. Rangi was right; some of the viewers comments that followed were just as Rangi had envisioned. People were angry and many of them were making comments that reeked of racism. Rangi was sad that all of the comments came from people who had overlooked one key point the Maori academic had mentioned and that was that to be a guest of Maori is a great honor and that Maori always looked after their guests. There was not one positive comment on this news item and certainly not one comment from Maori. Even though Maori were the indigenous people of Aoteroa and caretakers of the land it seemed that, such things were easily overlooked and so long as Maori remained part of the flora and forna all was ok, but if not then they were to be trampled down. It was moments like these that Rangi wondered just how far, had Maori come but he was not meaning to knock any of the hard work his ancestors had done for he had heard many a good thing about his ancestors journeys and he too was intent on improving the lives of Maori and their relationship with Pakeha. Rangi knew he had some hard acts to follow.
Later on in the evening there was a phone call and Rangi could tell by the look on his mothers face that she had just received some bad news. Rangi's great auntie had become very ill and was now in hospital. Rangi's mother yelled out to the rest of the family that she wanted them ready to go to the hospital as soon as possible. Rangi knew that it was serious as his mother had started ringing Iwi from all aroud the country. His great aunt was a well known figure head in Maoridom and held in very high regard. Only thirty minutes had passed and the family were on their way to the hospital. When they arrived it was after visiting hours but the matron still allowed the whole Whanau to visit. This seemed rather strange to Rangi as the last time his Whanau had come here to visit a sick relative; they had been told that only a few could visit at a time even though that was during visiting hours. Perhaps hospital protocol had changed substantially and Pakeha had become more understanding of the needs of Maori or perhaps his great aunt was in a very serious condition. It turned out that Rangi's great aunt was so ill, that she was on her last breaths. It was not long before she passed away but at least the Whanau had been there with her for those last moments. Rangi knew that the Maori way dictated that one should never be left to die alone.
Rangi knew that there was lots of preparation to be done for the Tangi and although he was too young to be helping with anything major; he could certainly learn all about protocol which would enable him to form a stronger bond with his people. Rangi was also greatfull that he went to a school that had strong focus and understanding of Maori culture and that he would not have people asking why he was away from school for a long period of time. It was times like this that made Rangi think about how hard it must have been for Maori a couple of generations ago when Maori were not even allowed to speak their own language in the school playground and during such times as Tangi; Maori would have been quite possibly just been considered to be wagging school. Perhaps we as a people had made some in roads and educated Pakeha about the way of Maori and how we do things around here thought Rangi.
Over the next day or so all of Rangi's Iwi and many other well wishers began to descend upon the Waipukurau Marae. Rangi could not remember the last time he saw so many people all gathered together in one place. There were so many people and everyone got along so well; there was such a sense of community. The smell of the beautifully cooked hangi food was overwhelming and Rangi's stomach began to rumble as he pondered the thought of succulent pieces of kumara (sweet potatoe) melting in his mouth. Although this was a sad occasion it was also a celebration of his great aunties life and a time where many Maori from the city could get back to their roots; that is the land where they came from before Pakeha had come and built grey cities void of a sense of community that yet somehow still had attracted Maori in droves. Cities had a lot to answer for thought Rangi as he pondered how his people had left their land and their language behind and almost lost them forever.
Rangi looked over towards a crowd of people some of who looked familiar. He then noticed his cousins George and Joe passing a rugby ball between them and decided to go over an join them, after all he had paid his respects to his great aunt and he was sure they would have done the same otherwise they would not be playing rugby on the open fields next to the Marae. "Hey bro howz it goin?" asked Rangi of his cousins George and Joe. They both replied with warm friendly welcomes. Then George asked Rangi if he had access to a computer as he wanted to have a skype partner that he could practice his Maori language skills with. Rangi said that he had a computer and that it would be choice if they could get together and improve their Maori language. Joe kept kicking and catching the rugby ball and both Rangi and George joined him. George commented on Joe's impressive ball handling skills and said he could be an all black one day. "You’re right" said Rangi, "but he needs to join a club and get serious otherwise his skills are wasted" how true were Rangi's words and how sad it would be to see such promise never grow to its full potential, thought Greorge. The hours passed so quickly and before they knew it, the sun was fading; bringing their game to a stop.
That night Joe, Rangi and George decided to head into the small town of Waipukarau and check out a movie. To their amazement the film Boy was playing, so they all grabbed their tickets and made their way towards the big screen. The lads thoroughly enjoyed the movie and came out of the theatre feeling on top of the world. It was as though the movie had taken them back in time to a happy place where there were no worries and not a care in the world. The movie had also inspired them and allowed them to believe that anything is possible. After the movie the guys headed back towards the Marae. Many people were around and there was an atmosphere in which everyone felt welcome and valued no matter where they came from or what their circumstances were.
The rest of the week went by very quickly and Rangi had ended up travelling back to Auckland with his parents instead of staying, as Monday was going to be a public holiday and he would be better off with his parents as he could ask them for money and catch up with his Auckland buddies. Once again Rangi found himself walking along Karangahape Road and wondered to himself why he always took this route to his mates house. Perhaps it was because he of the diverse range of people or perhaps it was just his way of reminding himself that he was one of the lucky ones.
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