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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 11, Issue 11 (February 1, 1937)

The Wisdom of the Maori

page 41

The Wisdom of the Maori

A Pakeha Viewpoint.

A learned professor in his course of instruction of New Zealanders in the right use of their English language incidentally referred to the excellent orthography adopted for the Maori tongue as contrasted with the grotesque treatment of Australian native names. This was due to Professor Lee, of Cambridge, who, he said, “with the assistance of the notorious Hongi, devised in 1820 the phonetic script which we now use.” That statement of history is correct, but I must cross tomahawks with the writer who could not give Hongi Hika a more complimentary adjective than “notorious.” His point of view is the typical Englishman's, where native races are concerned.

Would he describe Napoleon, or Wellington, or Cromwell, or any other great figure in military history as “notorious”? By comparison with European leaders our Hongi was very small potatoes indeed, so far as numbers slaughtered went. Hongi, it should be remembered, was always the friend of the whites; the English should be the last to call him uncomplimentary names. He fought his Maori enemies according to the ancient code of his race, and he was not without a touch of chivalry. An implacable foe certainly, but “notorious,” Professor, is decidedly not the right word.

The Modern Touch.

There is a wonderful plenty of Maori poetry in the excellently-compiled souvenir of the Pomare Memorial gathering at Manukorihi, Waitara, recently. There are poems of great beauty and there are many charming ditties written to suit old-fashioned pakeha tunes.

Sir Apirana Ngata's clever hand is discernible in this capital poetry section of the little book.

There is humour, too, in many of them. This is the translation set opposite part of one of the waiatas:

“I never did fancy any lad from Nati; My heart was already lost to one from Taranaki; But beware lest you wed me to things out of date; I'd rather have the latest, the things of to-day.”

(“Nati” signifies the East Coast; a Taranaki girl is speaking.)

But the translation of the last two lines would have been improved had the author made it a literal rendering. The Maori lines printed are:—

“E kore au e pai ki te piki wakena, Engari motoka ka piki atu au, e.”

The exact English meaning is:—“I don't want to climb into the wagon; I'd rather ride in a motor-car.”

There is nothing wrong with that as an expression of modern tastes. No old farm wagon for the Maori girl any more than for her pakeha cousin.

The Longest Place-Name.

An enquirer has asked for “the longest Maori word,” and suggested that the place-name in which the famous Tamatea and his nose-flute are embodied is the one. Such names, of course, are not single words but are coined phrases containing many words. They are numerous in this island, but are seldom given in full; life is too short.

The Tamatea guess is correct. There are several versions of it. The rendering which I think is correct, as given me by the Maoris, is:

Te taumata okiokinga whakatangi-hanga o te koauau a Tamatea-pokai-whenua.

The meaning is: “The hill-top where Tamatea-who-explored-the-land rested and played his nose-flute.”

There is another place-name almost as long in my list; it is not known to any pakeha but myself, I think. It is the meaningful name of the hilly neck of fern land between Lakes Tikitapu and Roto-kakahi, in the Rotorua country; the road to Te Wairoa passes within a few yards of the exact spot: Te tuahu a Tuameke te ahi tapoa i taona ai te manawa o Taiapua.

This being interpreted is as follows:

“The sacred place of Tuameke, the fire of witchcraft incantation in which the heart of Taiapua was cooked.”

You may link these historical place-descriptions together with hyphens, or leave them as I have given them, according to taste. But do not attempt to make one portentous word of them.

Some Rotorua Place-Names.

The shores of Lake Rotorua, especially old Ohinemutu and its neighbourhood, and the Government Sanatorium Grounds and park, abound in spots of historic import in the unwritten annals of the Lake people. Every spring, every little stretch of beach, has its place-name and its story. As examples of the interesting character of the place-names about here I note a few, given me by the warrior chief Kiharoa and others of the now-vanished old generation.

Tiritiri-matangi, the main street from the Rotorua Post Office to the Palace Hotel, was a kumara plantation. The name originated thus: When a kumara plot was levelled and dug up, and the earth heaped up in little mounds, a hole was made in each mound for the seed-kumara and a twig stuck there (tiritiri). It was inclined to the north or north-east, the place of the longest sunshine; and when the tubers were planted they were placed in this position to face the direction of the matangi, the warm northeast breeze. Tiritiri-matangi is also the name for one of the Maori heavens, of which there were ten in native mythology. Tiritiri, the lighthouse island outside the entrance to Auckland, is in full Tiritiri-matangi, and was so named over five centuries ago.

Whanga-pipiro is the name of the hot springs which supplies the Rachel Bath in the Sanatorium Grounds. The name refers to the strong smell of the sulphurous waters. It is a deep everboiling well, once a geyser. When its steam column was seen rising up on calm still days, the Maoris, observant of the spirals and convolutions, called it “Te Roro-o-te-Rangi”—“The Brains of the Sky.”