mollymacindoephotography

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“We’re Māori - we wing it!”

A story about choosing the ‘exit for opportunity’, being chucked into a ceremonial deep-end, witnessing a history-making meeting with only a napkin and eyeliner for note-taking and a few surreptitious snaps on a crappy phone camera.

(NB: worth checking out the prequel: ‘How I met Nanny Mary’ blog – just scroll down the blog list or click here)

In brief though, earlier this year, at the beginning of a two-month tiki-tour through Aotearoa (New Zealand) I’d had a very memorable Poukai experience at the Tūrangawaewae Marae, where ‘Nanny Mary’ had taken me under her wing. She’s a real wahine toa (warrior woman) with a wonderfully kind nature and infectious bubbly personality (reflected in her rainbow coloured hair), who also happens to be the Treasurer of Tamaki Makaurau – one of seven Electorates for the Maori Party that roughly covers greater Auckland).

Since first meeting we kept checking in on Facebook, hoping our paths would cross at one of the various events around the North Island that Mary was partaking in, so far to no avail. Mary’s from Auckland, so I let her know well in advance when it came time to return there.  Not until a week later during the actual drive to Auckland from Hamilton, did a message pop up on my phone from Mary. An hour later, stuck at roadworks, was the time to peek:

“Hey gal if you not doing anything at 5pm and in the vicinity of Manurewa Marae... Nau mai haere mai. Nga Tumanako winners of Te Matatini 2019 are bringing The Mauri to Manurewa 6pm sharp Powhiri.

…but only managed to make sense of the words, “vicinty of” , “Manurewa”,  “5pm” …and something about a ceremony.  Auckland is a huge, sprawling city and I’d no clue where that area was, but being 4:30pm and en route to an appointment followed by dinner with a cousin I hadn’t seen in 20 years; I thought, never mind, hopefully I’ll catch up with Mary over the next few days. Fate intervened, however; literally a minute later, I see an exit sign for ‘Manurewa’ – instinct took the wheel and oopsy, I was off on an unknown adventure! 

First stop, the nearest fuel station to send regrets to all previous engagements and for a quick google-search – to try and get the lo-down of what I was walking into. Remembering the mortifying, multi-coloured-clashing-outfit disaster at the Poukai, it seemed sensible to be on the safe side and change from pink shorts and bright blue vest to any black clothing I could dig out of my suitcases. Admittedly, it ended up a black and slightly gold outfit but was the best I could muster up and was definitely a good move! 

Arrive at the marae, find and hug Mary, and soon get ushered inside the beautiful, ornately-carved and painted meeting house.  Mary shepherded me into a one of the rows of a mixed gender and multigenerational crowd, which I assumed was there to watch a parade come through.....

.....Wrong. ‘We’ were there to perform the Tōia mai haka Pōwhiri Dance!!! ‘Tōia mai Te Waka’ means ‘pull up, the canoe’ and is part of an ancient canoe-hauling chant, now often performed as a 'haka pöwhiri' to symbolically pull the 'canoe' of the visitors safely onto the marae. Pōwhiri is a Māori welcoming ceremony involving speeches, dancing, singing and finally the hongi. (The traditional Māori greeting pressing noses together), followed by kai – a feast held inside the marae.  

Panicking as the dancing and singing started, I grabbed Mary: “Are you sure it’s okay for me to be doing this?!” She retorted “We’re Maori, we wing it!”, giggled and left me to do exactly that –  copying the moves as best I could during the few practice runs before the ceremonial entourage arrived and we performed for real – recorded on camera!!

I haven’t been able to find that recording but to get an idea of the event and excitement surrounding it, here’s a video of the same ceremony happening at Ōrākei Marae. Picture me, plopped in the middle of proficient dancers, trying to style it out!! 

To put this event into context:

Te Matatini is a nation-wide Māori performing arts festival of huge significance, comparable to something like the Edinburgh Fringe Festival attracting 60,000 people to an extravaganza of Māori culture, including art, crafts, food, fashion, film and most importantly, it hosts a competition for kapa haka performers from all of Aotearoa.  Kapa haka is an art form that showcases Māori and Polynesian identity through song and dance. This year, ‘Ngā Tūmanako’, a rōpū (team) from Tāmaki (Auckland) beat extremely stiff competition and took home the top prize and title of ‘Toa Whakahuwaka’.  As well as a trophy, the winning team brings home the ‘Mauri of Te Matatini’. Mauri are sacred stones believed to maintain life force, and this one is in particular represents the hosting rights for the next national kapa haka competition.  When the 2019 winners first arrived back home in February, the idea of sharing the mauri amongst the marae of Tāmaki (Auckland) was put forward and agreed upon…skip ahead to my incredible good fortune to witness its arrival at Manurewa!

Moreover, as luck would have it, this ceremony coincided with Manurewa Marae hosting a meeting of ‘Te Kōtahi a Tāmaki’, a collective representing 33 marae in Auckland (more on this later)....Back to the main event:

The Pōwhiri was followed by approximately two hours of speech-giving (all in Te Reo Maori) – then the hongi, then some yummy belly-filling of Māori dishes, where I also had the honour, through Mary, of meeting some of the community’s most respected members.  Pictured - Sitting down over kai with Martin Cooper and Shane White.

The biggest honour of all was being invited to the post-kai meeting  (once again appreciating the totally random but perfect timing of coming here).  The hundreds-strong crowd had thinned to about 25 people; seeing how intimate and important it looked, I whispered goodbye to Mary, grabbing my coat, only to get pulled back: “no no, stay, I’ve already checked and you are welcome”.  It took a split second to weigh up being even later to meet my cousin or missing a unique opportunity (sorry again Charley!)

To my delight, the hui was held English, allowing me insight into the inner workings of the marae collective.  During both my marae experiences on this trip, the hours of speeches were all performed by men, punctuated by beautiful singing from the women.  From my newcomer’s perspective, the men seemed to dominate the proceedings of the events.   Now the tables were turned.  The chairperson for this gathering of representatives from 33 of Auckland’s maraes to discuss the key current and future issues for the very recently-formed collective -- was Tania Kingi, a confident, intelligent woman and no-nonsense spokesperson who clearly and easily commanded attention from everyone there; all the same men who had previously captivated the crowd with powerful speeches, now hung on Tania’s every word.   .   It was inspiring to witness this balance and mutual respect. Half way through the meeting, a slighty scruffy-looking man came into the hui and insisted on speaking to the room to tell of his situation living on the streets, that he’d been drinking, but wanted to tell us a brief history of his whakapapa (lineage), the names of his family and ancestors, and also the main reason he’d come in: for warmth and food, “Thank you for the feed, thank you for the coffee, thank you for the company, I respect this marae even though I don’t go to church on Sunday.”

The rest of the agenda was covered – anything from wheelchair accessibility for all maraes, to arranging solar energy workshops. The overall idea was to collaborate as a collective.  Share successes, failures, recommendations, and knowledge - to work together for progress and independence from government monetary ties.

Spokesperson Tania Kingi said that this mauri stone coming to the different maraes in Auckland signals that we should be working collectively. “One of the driving principles for us all is that the mauri can unify.  The mauri is bringing us together and connecting us to all the other marae throughout Auckland and preparing us for Te Matatini 2021.” Tania Kingi

 What did I learn from this apart from that I desperately need a better camera phone? Clearly, a lot more about Māori culture, but also reaffirming what I’d discovered since arriving in Aotearoa -  found it to be a friendly country and people in general, but in particular made to feel very welcome in Māori communities and not judged despite obviously being the odd one out.

I want to specially thank Mary Karena-komene, Tania Kingi, Rangi McLean, Shane White, Martin Cooper, Mereana Hona and everyone that I met for being so welcoming and allowing me such a memorable and informative experience.

Disclaimer: I’ve done my best with Maori references, but please excuse this pākehā for any mistakes or offense.  My education has only just started and I hope it will continue, as I do the new friendships in Aotearoa.   Ps. Please correct me if you see something.  It’s the only way to learn. Aroha nui, ka kite ano Aotearoa <3

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‘I will always love you’ – A young apprentice is taught how to slaughter and prepare a sheep by a Wairarapa farmer. Opaki, Wairarapa, Aotearoa (NZ) April, 2019

Okay, before you turn away in disgust hear me out. First off, I’m a squeamish vegetarian who hates gore and harm to any creatures aside from moths. Most who know me would be surprised I took this. However, I’m also a reportage photographer, addicted to travel, adventures, and fascinated by new experiences.

In April this year I was invited to stay on my friend Steven’s family ‘lifestyle’ farm in the town of Opaki, near Masterton in the Wairarapa area of Aotearoa (NZ).  Whenever my friend had joked about one of his chores being helping to kill sheep, I’d feign distaste: “nice, I’ll leave you to it then”.  

Except a morning came when, sleepily sipping at some green tea, Steven asked if I fancied catching some sheep.  Not thinking about the reason behind it I eagerly grabbed some over-sized gumboots (wellies) and jumped into the ‘ute’ off to a neighbouring farm to help herd some wild sheep into a corner by waving arms and shouting when they charged at me. Being a city-girl, this was every bit intriguing and exciting. Feeling exhilarated from the experience, I hadn’t really considered their final outcome until watching Dennis, Steven’s step-father and a wiry but strong farmer in his 60s, catching hold of and picking each sheep up, inspecting its nether regions and sorting for either breeding or eating.

Back at the farm, and now loading up my charging sheep herd videos onto Instagram, Dennis strode past with a rifle and Steven, following in turn, called out to me and said, “whaddaya reckon, want to watch?” Opening my mouth to say ‘no thanks’ and came out with, “er…yeah why not?”, I grabbed the DSLR and slipped those gumboots back on.

At the end of the day, this was undeniably quintessential farm life, New Zealand life and probably the most humane and responsible way to put meat on the table, to be shared amongst all the neighbouring farms.   I’d never seen an animal get slaughtered, let alone a couple of feet away within blood-splattering distance.  My observer-recorder side was captivated, detached and quashed any nauseous instincts to look away even at the most shocking points.

The young man in the picture is Sam, the 16-year old son of one of the neighbours and had just started apprenticing for Dennis that week – chopping wood, driving tractors, doing odd jobs around the property, etc. but this was his first ever time involved in killing, gutting and skinning a sheep.  I wonder if his gaze would have the same striking mix of curiosity and sympathy with a few more kills under his belt.  I doubt he expected to be under photographic scrutiny this first time. All three men cracked bad jokes throughout, Dennis was a seasoned pro, but clearly it took a great deal of physical strength handling the kill, stripping the skin from bone with his bare hands.  I’ve got great respect for anyone that catches and kills their food up close and personal.

Almost every part of that sheep was getting used. Steven, a director / filmmaker, kept a big freezer full of all the sheep’s guts to use for special effects in the horror film he was in the throes of making.What I found most odd was other people’s reactions when I told them about the experience: general disgust and shock. These were kiwis, who regularly eat lamb and feed their families with it.

The tattoo. Afterwards, Steven asked me if I’d been taking pictures of Sam’s tattoo. Being a photographer himself, he’d spotted that excited glint in my eye and sudden total focus on capturing something and he guessed correctly.  The apprentice’s tatt, “I will always love you”, was done in memory of his late younger brother who’d recently died in a tragic accident.

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The story of how I met Nanny Mary, and a reminder that “the best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry”, but things happen for a reason -- don’t be blinded by disappointment, because there may be a silver lining and who knows what better place that will take you.

Months before leaving for New Zealand, I’d happened upon an upcoming event there that was right up my street! : The annual Tūrangawaewae Regatta – a rare chance to see traditional intricately-carved Waka Taua (war canoes) take to the Waikato River as a display to honour the mana of the Kīngitanga (the Māori King movement).

The date was engrained into my memory, with the first section of my trip scheduled around it, but, to my deepest regret, due to bad planning I couldn’t get there until the last hour, missing the final river show and paddle salute to the King. Absolutely gutted and needing comfort, I made a beeline for the food tent, clearly almost packed down with a few loiterers taking shelter from the heat.  One stall holder took pity and offered me what has now become one of my fave dishes here: raw fish marinated in coconut cream with spring onions and bell peppers.  I sat down at the only remaining table, feeling shy but kinda hoping that my strange hair and appearance might bring someone over and chat. It worked!

A late-middle-aged man pulled up a chair: “So…what’s your name and where are you from?” It was my very good fortune to be talking to a Kaumātua (Māori elder), held in high esteem in the community and recognised for their life experiences and knowledge. An hour and a half later I’d been given a informative outline about the history of the Kīngitanga, starting from the migration of Tahitian Islanders to Aotearoa (NZ), to land wars with Colonial occupiers, the unification of Māori tribes, to modern day race relations and the role of the King today plus the related history and importance of the Tūrangawaewae Marae House.  On my enquiring about other events happening there, Te Rongapai cordially invited me to a Poukai happening two days from then: One of an annual series of visits by the Māori king to Kīngitanga marae, a tradition that dates back to the 19th century, instituted to “feed the widowed, the bereaved and the destitute”. Kawe Mate (grieving families) can attend as a tribute to their loved ones who have died recently, and the gathering also serves as a platform for community discussion. 

So...mixed first thoughts: honour at being invited but fear of this unknown, presumably emotional and private community affair.  But what were the odds that I could be so thouroughly disappointed by missing the waka event only to be invited to a this? There was no question about saying yes.. despite much nervousness about going on my own, with no way to contact my one tenuous connection there and not even being sure it was actually alright to attend.....

.....I’d asked about dress code and been vehemently assured that there was none, and to wear anything I wanted. So, come Monday morning, there I was, stepping out of my car, wearing an odd pick-n-mix of clean travel-clothes -- a nice, but multi-coloured dress, turquoise sweater and a shiny gold leopard print scarf…quickly realising that every other person in sight was dressed head to toe in black!

Expecting there to be a gaggle of guests waiting by the main arch, I saw two young woman looking similarly apprehensive.  In fact, they worked for a company that managed tribal assets and their uniform logo instantly was recognised by everyone there.  So… I really was the only random pakeha (non-Maori / white European) in the 200-strong turnout. Tall, blonde-dreadlocked, in brightly coloured clashing clothing – feeling conspicuous much?? Wanting to shrink into my (thankfully) black shoes, I took a deep breathe, put on my best polite smile and pretended not to be totally mortified.  Everything became instantly better when a woman stepped off a bus with a beaming smile that was constantly on the verge of laughter.  Nanny Mary was there to look after the other two ladies, but, after the initial surprise finding out I was a random who’d come from the other side of the world, Mary took me under her wing for the rest of the day, guiding me through three hours of singing and speeches, a 30-40 person line-up for the hongi (The traditional Māori greeting pressing noses together), followed by a gigantic feast held inside the Marae, every table overflowing with traditional dishes of all kinds. She even let me take her picture outside of the main entrance showing me the iwi’s (tribe) insignia on her scarf  – ALL other photography was strictly forbidden.  Throughout, Mary’s bubbly, genuine, warm and kind persona made me feel entirely welcome, her laughter infectious and by the time I left, with numbers swapped, felt like I’d gained a much-appreciated new friend at the beginning of my journey in this Land of the Long White Cloud.

Moral of the blog: If I’d gone to the regatta in full swing as planned and been in the big crowds watching the war canoes, I never would have met an talked with Te Rongapai, nor had the very special honour of experiencing the Poukai and not met Nanny Mary..and experienced such kindness from strangers.

If you made it all the way through…thanks for reading.  I recorded this story most importantly because for once I have practically no photos to remember by…only words and thoughts. 

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This day in 2011 @boomtownfairofficial signing a 1st edition copy of #outoforderphotobook , fresh off the press for @enjoykaos. The start of a new chapter in life 💖 A few of these precious, long-lost #firsteditionbooks were found in the corner of a warehouse last year. For the best deal on a rare signed copy get in touch. 🎁📚📷 . . . . . . .  #nevergiveup #dreamscancometrue #aimingforthestars #coffetablebooks  #documentaryphotography  #filmisnotdead #filmphotography  #35mm  #allanalog  #analogforever #socialdocumentary  #photobookjousting #britishmusichistory #ukraves #freeparty  #teknival #youthculture #subculture  @mollymacindoe @youthclubsocial @heritagelotteryfund #freepartyscene  #rave #undergroundrave#subculture #counterculture #pentaxmx #analogforever #pentaxphotography #hlfsupported #loveheritage #mollymacindoephotography (at Boomtown Fair)

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Exploring the grounds of the renowned #Elabortoire site in Rennes: Home and permanent gallery/artist collective running for an unprecedented 20 years. . #streetartrennes #elaboratoire #randomart #junksculpture #metalsculpture #streetartfrance #graffitirennes #graffitifrance ##pirateskull #skullgraffiti #wanderingthestreets  #unexpectedfrequenciesproject #traveldiary2018 #pentaxphotography #mollymacindoephotography (at L'elabo)

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Two apprehensive young girls aboard the #octopusride at @carnavaldetenerife Santa Cruz funfair look back for parental reassurance... And mum and dad, dressed as a pirate and fairy, vigorously cheer them on. . . . . . . . #carnivalcostumes #carnavaldetenerife2018 #familyfun #funatthefair #fairgroundrides #familyholsintenerife #dayone #traveldiary2018 #youthculture #fancydress #crossdressing #dressedindrag #fairycostume #carnivalfashion #colourphotography #nofilter #pentaxphotography #documentaryphotography #mollymacindoephotography (at Santa Cruz de Tenerife)

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Creepy Trainspotting-esque animatronic baby: one of the highlights of the fascinating '500 Years of Robots' exhibition. It's only on for another couple of weeks! #culture #history #500yearsofrobots #museumofscienceandindustry #robotsexhibition #animatronics #trainspottingbaby (at Museum of Science and Industry)

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The beautiful @littleninamarie dancing in a beam of sunlight at a London warehouse rave circa 2001. Originally posted by @youthclubsocial last month for international Women's Day, but celebrating the luscious ladies of the world should happen on a daily basis. Image from #outoforderphotobook see profile for link to buy. Check out the @youthclubsocial website for the full #mollymacindoephotography archive of rave photos. . . . . . . #documentaryphotography #britishmusichistory #ukravescene #freeparty #teknival #youthculture #subculture #undergroundrave #35mm #allanalog #filmisnotdead #pentaxphotography #filmphotography #naturallightphotography #abandonedspaces #socialdocumentary #lostinmusic #heritagelotteryfund #ravearchive #mollymacindoephotography 

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Great news!  From today, #outoforderphotobook is now stocked in Manchester at the famous @piccadillyrecords, along with #documentingtheraveroad postcard sets. see profile for link to buy online. . . . . . . . . #pleasedaspunch #documentaryphotography #filmisnotdead #filmphotography #35mm #allanalog #socialdocumentary #photobookjousting #britishmusichistory #ukraves #freeparty #teknival #youthculture #subculture #undergroundraves #mollymacindoephotography  (at Piccadilly Records)

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Superwoman #onabreak at #carnavaldetenerife2018 Santa Cruz funfair . . . . . . #carnivalcostumes #funatthefair #fairgroundrides #familyholsintenerife #dayone #traveldiary2018 #superwomancostume #redbluegold #fancydress #crossdressing #fairycostume #colourphotography #nofilter #pentaxphotography #mollymacindoephotography (at Carnaval de Santa Cruz de Tenerife)

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Found the scariest ride at the carnival...of course!! Very proud of @neilmacindoephotography for braving it with me! I could've done it 5 times at least #meandmydad #adrenalinerush #familyhols #carnavaldetenerife (at Carnaval de Santa Cruz de Tenerife)

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Lazing on a Sunday afternoon during the 'Trumpkintek' #halloweenrave 2016. #ravebreak #ravecrew #sundayvibes . . . . . . #freeparty #ukrave #abandonedspaces #documentingtheraveroad #documentaryphotography #35mm #allanalog #socialdocumentary #filmisnotdead #filmphotography #ravearchive #counterculture #youthculture #mollymacindoephotography @youthclubsocial #heritagelotteryfund (at Barry, Vale of Glamorgan)

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#motheranddaughtertime @rosie_nobbs & May celebrating #nye2016 at the Bristol #freeparty. #rave #chique . . . . . . . #nyerave #undergroundrave #ukrave #abandonedspaces #portrait #alternativebeauty #generationalbeauty #documentaryphotography #35mm #allanalog #socialdocumentary #filmisnotdead #filmphotography #ravearchive #counterculture #mollymacindoephotography (at Bristol, United Kingdom)

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Serving up desert for #quakerhomelessaction this evening. About 100 meals went out and 20 beds taken. #toogoodtoeat cakes donated by @belle_epoque_cakes (at Union Chapel)

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Christina chilling #behindthedecks at Keef Dstorm's memorial party. #backstagelife #ravebreak #filmisnotdead #allanalog #freeparty #bwphotography (at Canning Town)

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Two raves in Spain, 5 months apart. Same-ish UK rave crew #doubleexposure #accidentalart #filmphotography #filmisnotdead Best guess is @lesterlloyd at #viñatek with 'Tunnel Vision Snap' game arms from either @georgia_quality_kent @trueloverosa or Nat/Moggy at Bristol Blast Barcelona....! . . . . . . #freeparty #teknival #raveculture #undergroundrave #documentaryphotography #fineartphotography #allanalog #mollymacindoephotography (at Spain)

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#ravedout #aftertheballwasover #loungecore #sundayvibes #boysontour in Barcelona. . . . . . . #freeparty #abandonedspaces #documentaryphotography #35mm #allanalog #socialdocumentary #naturallightphotography #themorningafter #undergroundrave #filmisnotdead #filmphotography #ravearchive #counterculture #youthculture #mollymacindoephotography (at Sant Adrià de Besòs)