Hona Black lectures on teaching for Māori medium schools at Te Pūtahi a Toi: School of Māori Knowledge at Massey University, Palmerston North.
Hona Black lectures on teaching for Māori medium schools at Te Pūtahi a Toi: School of Māori Knowledge at Massey University, Palmerston North.
A new bilingual book, Te Reo Kapekape, by scholar Hona Black (Tūhoe, Te Whānau a Apanui, Ngāti Tūwharetoa) literally translates to “the language of poking fun”. Humour also has the power to diffuse conflict, whether personal or political, writes Black, ahead of Te Wiki O Te Reo Māori.
In aworld where divisions seem to grow wider by the day, humour has the remarkable ability to bridge these divides. One of its greatest abilities is to break the ice in even the frostiest of situations.
Growing up, humour was always used to ease tension, to uplift sadness and to bring a little bit of laughter to gloomy situations. Humour wasn’t reserved just for celebrations and happy occasions; it was woven into all aspects of everyday life.
When I was a kid, I remember racing my younger brother to answer the phone one night, and on the other end was a girl asking for our older brother. My younger brother yelled out to my brother, “He tou pūaha” (an open behind). My older brother said to tell her he wasn’t home, and my younger brother, with his fresh English, told her, “Him say he no here.” To an English speaker, the reference to an open behind might sound crass, but in te reo kapekape (the language of wit and humour), these references to various body parts are not only normal, but part and parcel of everyday te reo Māori.
If we wanted to tell a male to get stuffed, we would say, “ō raho!” (your balls!). If you liked to play the field, we would call you an “ure haere” (a philandering penis), or as my younger brother eloquently said, a “tou pūaha”. As an aside to that story, we actually ended up naming a horse “Him say he no here” to immortalise it forever!
Today, however, te reo kapekape is becoming somewhat of a lost art; we are so caught up in life that we forget to see the humour all around us. Growing up in my family, if you were too serious all the time, you would be labelled a “tou maroke” (a dry arse). These words are not insulting, but reflect Māori humour.
Dropping these pearls can distract people from the seriousness of conflict, can break the ice, bridge divides, disarm the enemy, and can often take the wind out of someone’s sail. For example, the recent furore over the bilingual road signs has revealed myriad strong opinions (some of them very outdated). I tend not to engage with these mokoweri (dinosaurs), knowing that they pop up now and then, have a bit of a roar and stomp their feet before retiring back to their caves. “We all speak English,” they say. “Māori signs will confuse people,” they say. “How am I meant to know that ‘Tūnga Pahi’ means bus stop?” they say. But any decent person working at Specsavers would be able to point out the big red picture of a bus on the sign, as well as the words “bus stop” written underneath the Māori text. I think most of Aotearoa New Zealand is moving on. We are not returning to Jurassic Park.
So, the next time you find yourself locked in a fierce conflict, remember the mighty power of wit and humour. Channel your inner comedian and employ te reo kapekape strategically. Who knows, your laughter might be the pebble that starts an avalanche of reconciliation. In the grand drama of life, when all else fails, let humour wear the crown and watch it conquer conflict with a mischievous grin.
(That last line was from ChatGPT by the way - so even the machines know what’s what.)
Te Reo Kapekape, by Hona Black (Oratia Press, $39.99)
Hona Black lectures on teaching for Māori medium schools at Te Pūtahi a Toi: School of MāoriKnowledge at Massey University, Palmerston North. He has worked as the senior Māori adviser on Massey’s Wellington campus, and been Head of Te Reo Māori at Hato Pāora College in Feilding. Black lives in Porirua with his partner and their baby son.
