Ngati Ranginui performers took framed photographs on stage of beloved leaders who have died. Photo / Te Matatini Society Incorporated
Ngati Ranginui performers took framed photographs on stage of beloved leaders who have died. Photo / Te Matatini Society Incorporated
COMMENT
When a kapa haka group makes it onto the finals stage, what we see in those 30-odd minutes of their performance is only a mere thread in the korowai (cloak) that has been woven together to get them down to Te Matatini Ki Te Ao, the world's largest kapahaka festival.
A year and a bit of hard-out marae live-ins, live-outs and going without to make the money stretch all the way to Wellington - not forgetting wananga and weekend practices, all condensed into one half-hour shot at the national title.
There is a virtual army of supporters and whānau well-wishers who travel with a kapa haka group. Many of them started this Matatini journey with the Ngāti Ranginui group from the very first practice almost 15 months ago, when the regionals were the first big hurdle to get across.
And there are 45 other kapa haka armies who have made the hikoi to Te Whanganui-a- Tara (Wellington), to battle it out at the Cake Tin for the world's biggest kapa haka festival.
In a small "push the pram and mind the moko" kind of way, I have been part of the army as my wife's daughter is the kaea (waiata leader) of the Ngāti Ranginui group and one of the tutors who helped put the programme together.
So you feel it deep inside when they walk out on stage with three framed images to tell the story of Tauranga Moana and our beloved leaders who are no longer with us.
These three were Wi Parata, the group's tutor and performer; Morehu Ngatoko, our esteemed paramount Rangatira of Ngāti Ranginui; and Bibbins Tangitu, a loyal supporter and raranga tutor who helped her students weave many of the korowai worn on stage in Wellington.
Ngāti Ranginui perform at Te Matatini in Wellington. Photo / Te Matatini Society Incorporated
When our girl walked on stage with the other 44 performers she carried with her the wairua (spirit) of her nan, as did the mokopuna, partners and whānau of the other two lost leaders.
Then something very cool happened as the three photos were set down in front of the group that not everyone noticed. A bright red balloon drifted across the stage at the exact moment. The wife of one of those three in the photos believed it was a tautoko tohu, a confirmation and a sign from the other side that they were watching from above.
Purely coincidental? Sure, maybe.
That was until when we arrived back at the hotel where the group was staying. As the framed photos were carried inside, a bright red balloon drifted casually past the hotel window where we were sitting watching an interview with TV3 and our girl.
Was this another coincidence? Maybe, maybe not. But we never saw a balloon of any colour come down Whitmore St before the bright red one and nor have we seen one since.
Was it the same balloon? I'd like to think it was a tohu (a divine sign) and I, for one, will never question the love of our lost ones, especially when we honour them in karakia (song) and kapa haka.
That is the magic of Matatini.
If we were to look for the perfect platform to take the pulse of Aotearoa and find its cultural heartbeat, then Matatini is that stage.
The 60,000 voices who showed up over the four days is more than just a snapshot sing-a-long, it's a cultural choir and the whole world has been listening via the many mediums on hand to record it.
In our whānau, kapa haka is king and holds equal prestige during Matatini as the Grand Final of an NRL or Rugby Union competition.
What is well worth noting is how rapidly kapa haka is growing and all of the 2700 schools in Aotearoa are crying out for a tutor.
Meanwhile, Māori and their Caucasian cuzzies are embracing the stage together. For me, nothing warms the heart more than watching our tamariki (children) sing and dance together without any whakamā (shyness) or whakahihi (arrogance) that other cultural and sporting endeavours may create.
The time will come, if it has not arrived already, when we will see past the "tin of cocoa - poor here e" perspective that handbrakes our tokenistic attitude toward Māori culture in this country.
Surely our savvy politicians who are in sync with our cultural heartbeat will wake up and smell the putiputi (flowers) and get serious about promoting kapa haka as an employment opportunity, a fitness and health avenue like no other and, most importantly, as a cultural korowai that can cover this country in a cloak of unity.
