KAPAI: Bro-three-pies exposes difficulty

I recently published a children's book about a bunch of cuzzies who go in search of the rainbow's end. It has enjoyed a good degree of success.
One of its pages features Puku Pai coming out of the Te Puna Four Square with a huge icecream in his hand. It was the subject of a rather curious confrontation.
One of the local bros, who looked like he came from the same Ngati Puku tribe as the character in my book, came up to me one day with a menacing glare that warned me of impending doom.
The conversation went like this. "Bro, are you the fulla that wrote that blingin cuzzie book?"
"Yes," I politely replied, trying to replay each page of the book to see what cultural correctness I had transgressed.
Stepping forward within spitting distance he scowled,
"Don't do rolled icecreams at the Te Puna Four Square, bro, only trumpets and TT2s. Get it right next time, cuz."
With that he waddled off to his waka with a bag full of Big Bens that would be woofed down quicker than I could lick my way through a double scoop of hokey pokey.
I stood there stunned like a statue exposing myself to a bit of emotional boohoo juice.
It got me thinking about how hard it is for Maori to complement each other because it is almost seen as a sign of weakness.
When I attend hui or tangihana and then run into whanau who were not there, I am amazed to hear the same old questions asked about the event.
The first question is usually "Who was there?" When I run through some of the names I am almost always cut off with something like, "Awk! What were they doing there? They didn't like the bugger when he was alive."
The next question is, "What did they have for a kai?"
That's followed by, "Was it hot?" And here's the kicker: "Did they have stuffing?"
No mention of the bereaved, or a query about the kaupapa of the hui.
I have come to understand this as an escape route for not having attended the event and just like my "Bro-three-pies", the avenue of criticism is a far easier path to walk than paying the price of a positive tautoko.
And there is plenty to be positive about if we are brave enough to start looking for it.
Last weekend's Tauranga Tangata festival is a good place to start. If you took the time to taste the cultural richness that was on offer, you will know this gala event was a huge success. To the team that staged this wicked weekend, you deserve the praises of your people.
To see the life put back into the Dive Cres cargo shed is a huge plus for downtown Tauranga. Hopefully, it will kickstart a revival of renovation for the rest of the tired-looking crash pads that belong on a bonfire.
And speaking of bonfires, who put the flame out on the annual Ferguson Park fireworks display?
It had become an annual pilgrimage for my family. It was one of the few outings that didn't send the eftpos card into a decline.
Bring back the bonfire, bro, but I won't hold my breath waiting.
Have you ever played the game with your kids where you try to hold your breath when crossing the harbour bridge?
It's a real gut buster. But be warned, if you give it a crack at 5pm you will end up with a set of cheeks the same size as the ones you're sitting on.
For the ultimate driving experience, cruise out to Clarke Rd, about a click past the Wairoa bridge. This has to be the prettiest street on the planet with a caf? that does the tongue a favour unlike any other.
And if you really want to find out what my bro-three-pies was on about, keep your motor running and drop into the Te Puna Four Square for a trumpet or a TT2 but beware, they don't do rolled icecreams, eh.
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