We end at the beginning. Our last episode in the Forever Fresh Talanoa series entitled ReMoanafication was really the starting point for this journey series across the moanas and mokus as we connected with tagata Moana and shared timespaceplace. ReMoanafication - the Unity-that-is-All (thanks Uncle Albert) is chatted about by Jaimie Waititi, Ariana Davis and Jessica Palalagi - we ask more questions than we answer as we explore our connections both individual and collective, picking up and reclaiming our narratives along the way.
Click here to watch the fourth episode of the Talanoa series, and continue reading below for Anne-Marie Te Whiu's response to the video.
Relationality is the high tide of Remoanafication
Ko Te Reinga toku te māunga
Ko Waihou te awa
Ko Hokianga te moana
Ko Waihou-Nui-a-Rua te marae
Ko Waimirirangi te whare tupuna
Ko Te Rarawa tōku iwi
Ko Te Waikoi tōku hapū
Ko Anne-Marie Te Whiu tōku ingoa 01. A Pepeha is a way of introducing yourself in Māori. It tells people who you are by sharing your connections with the people and places that are important to you. See https://pepeha.nz/
My pepeha, my descent profile, opens you and I up to the possibility of blood connection and situates us in relation to the landmarks where my bones belong - the Hokianga of Aotearoa. As one of the starting points to our Remoanifactation, here on the page, I share this with you. It’s between you and me. I’ll hold on to one end of the rope and you the other. Let’s pull the rope tight so we can suss out the tension.
E hoa, you need to loosen that grip
Log off all your social media accounts immediately and get in the ocean.
Whenever I travel, one of the first questions I ask a local is ‘which direction is the ocean?’. Bearings, lay of the land, understanding where the big blue is, helps me centre myself. Part of the process of Remoanafication is akin to lino-cutting so that the negative and positive spaces are inverted. The ocean, the negative spaces, become the positive spaces of belonging. Where do the peoples of the moana begin and end?
- hey it feels like Remoanafication needs to have a capital ‘R’ – don’t you think
- And a capital M?
- Also, I’m tempted to re-write it as ReMoanaFiction
Ownership of land is a fucked up, bizarre concept that came with the colonisers
Even if I had the money, I wouldn’t purchase land or a house here in (so-called) Australia. I’ve always wanted to tread as lightly as I can whilst living here out of respect to the Indigenous peoples of this continent, and so, I will rent while I live here.
- Also, the current housing crisis is dire – homelessness is acutely on the rise. The real estate industry is a sharp weapon of colonisation and needs to be burned down.
Art with feathers because we’re mutton-birders
Being Māori is just inside you. It’s who you are.
Once Pākehā accepted and supported elements of tikanga as part of everyday life in Aotearoa, it created an otherness and/or potential danger for Māori who wished to question those particular tikanga. Ideally, tikanga will be centred in Remoanafication so that it is safe for all Māori.
If you are Pākehā, please sit down. If you are Māori, please move to the front. If you are queer and Māori, please take the microphone.
It’s important to chew your words for at least 32 seconds before sharing them. Take deep time to listen before you speak. Give special attention to what the tamariki and rangatira say.
For fuck’s sake, what even is a country?
Which Indigenous lands are you living on?
I Am Not Your Kuntry
I was already here
following my seasons
tracing each leaf
fingering my ravine
you and your hull
did not discover me
I know my winds
I know my true north
I have no need for maps
your anchor is not
I am an Islander
Hawai'i tells me so.
He was hunched over in a coat that made him look a lot bigger than he really was. He was about 50 or 60 years old. His right-hand was out, palm-up on the footpath, cupped in the shape of begging. His left hand was tucked into the left coat-pocket. People walked briskly by, anxious not to make eye-contact, focussed on scanning the Covid QR code.
I walked by him to get to the entry of the shop and said hello then asked if he was hungry. He said yes.
Ten minutes later, as I exited the shop, his body was more stooped over than before, his eyes so sad. I handed him $10 and a bag. Inside it was a roast chicken, a bottle of orange juice, milk, biscuits, chips and bread. We spoke for about 5 minutes. Then I left, saying goodbye. He smiled, revealing a mouthful of gums and a couple of teeth.
“Hot chook is my favourite,” he said.
Access to eons of knowledge
Our whanau marae working bees are the bees-knees of connection and learning.
Te Ao Māori System
Imagine if te Tiriti o Waitangi was upheld, what our lives would be like today
The more that you remember your dreams, the more likely it is that they will come true.
is for awesome
The table is set. Each of your favourite kai is laid out. An Erykah Badu CD is playing and there is a warm breeze that drifts through my house. The sun beams an ancient light which kisses banana-tree-leaves in the backyard.
You all arrive at once. I hear the gate unlatch and my belly turns with excitement. The front door is open and you walk down the hallway to find me in the kitchen with open arms.
In this next-time, you’re all here.