Hammering home the bird flu message while there's time

Sometimes I wish there was such a thing as a magic carpet and I could fly away for a while and sometimes I just have to find my own ticket to ride life out on.
It's no secret I spend a lot of time around the side of our sacred maunga, the mountain we call Mauao and it is my great escape to fly away.
Be it wishing or hoping, playing or praying I find a walk around Mauao does wonders for the wairua (spirit) and it's a bit of fun keeping the eye contact up for the entire circumnavigation, especially with the continuous flow of fitness freaks and bobby socked geeks pounding the pavement in pursuit of the perfect body and mind.
Mind you when I was standing on the sandy shore scratching out a farewell message in the low tide to the Diamond Princess last week the freaks and the geeks gave me a few suspicious stares back.
You get pretty close to them floating fortresses when you stand on the low tide mark around the side of Mauao and both sides get a good view of each other, so hopefully they saw my sign in the sand. I don't know if it's me or the magic of the mountain but I always seem to get a song in my head and yesterday was no different except there was some sadness in the song the mountain gave me. If I Had a Hammer by Peter Paul and Mary was the waiata and it has haunted me for the past 24 hours with its lyrics - because what it says and how I feel for the New Year are scaringly similar and, as I watched the wall of windows float past on the side of the Diamond Princess, I couldn't help wondering where travel and tourism will be in 12 months.
I am talking, of course, about the bird flu and the impact it is going to have on us all when, not if, it flies our way.
What will we have to go without and what will the world be like in 12 short months?
Already when I see batteries on sale and big boxes of breakfast cereals on special I keep thinking what will my whanau need to survive in solitary confinement for eight weeks? How will we cope with none of life's luxuries to lax out on? And what about the alcoholics and addicts including the smokers and midnight tokers who are forced to face cold turkey or break the bird flu barricades that quarantine will demand? The diabetics without insulin? The kids with not enough kai and no three-day tangihana to farewell the friends and whanau who didn't make it through the eight-week window?
Sobering stuff but better to plan now than regret later. Unlike the Y2K scare in 2000 this Manu Mauiui (bird flu) has a got a whole lot more serious since the reality check of Turkey hit the headlines. In an ironic twist why did it have to be a country called Turkey, the only bird name I know?
Information and understanding are the key to fighting pandemic flus as much as medicine is and Maori should be meeting on the Marae to discuss ways of preparing for the upcoming battle of the bird flu, just as we have faced battles in the past. It is not the fear factor that we should be trying to shield our families and whanau from but arming them with information and understanding to overcome fear. This is the taiaha that will win this war.
So I guess the song remains the same when it comes to If I had a hammer. Ringing out a warning all over the land while time is on our side is what this song said to me around the side of Mauao. And time waits for no man. Not the jogger in a hurry to get fit or the struggling bobby-socked walker keeping pace with his heart. It won't wait for a tug boat or the tide to tow a Princess out to sea and father time won't wait for you and it won't wait for me.
So, as sobering as it may be, perhaps it is time to tuck away the tent and fold up the picnic blanket and start taking the time to tuck away a tin or two for the bird flu.
Panic and pandemic only go hand in hand when preparation is left behind so picking up the hammer and putting in a few heavy hits of well placed preparation is a good way to go for the rest of the summer. It could be the life saving difference between scratching out an SOS or a farewell message to a passing Princess.
Thankfully my container load of carpets cleared customs today so if you need a magic Maori mat to fly away on, give me a call or send me an email.
Pai marire (Peace)
tommy@indigenius.org