On the Marae

Last weekend, we were invited to a Marae for the celebration of a 21st birthday.

A marae is a communal center which occupies both a sacred and a social place in Maori cultural life. It is where important events such as weddings, funerals, meetings and welcoming visitors occurs. There is a great deal of custom and ritual associated with the marae and it is where the expression of Maori culture and language is still alive and expressed most freely. A marae consists of a cleared space in front of a central hall or "big house" - wharenui. Before entering into the marae formally, everyone must be called to come. This is done with a ceremony called a porwhiri. So far when I have seen and heard a porwhiri, it has been a woman who calls in Maori song - "Come, Come... Harae mai, Harae mai..." It is quite stirring, this lone voice, high pitched, calling out into the silence.

We went to the Manukau Marae which is a family marae of Ginny Shortland, a teacher at Ahipara Primary school where Ethan and Reuben attend and the mother of one of Reuben's classmates. It was her cousin's son who was turning twenty-one, and the party illustrates the nature of the Maori concept of whanau or extended family. Family is family, no matter if related by marriage on your mother's cousin's father's side. It's family. The invitation also reflects another Maori custom of open and generous hospitality. I met Ginny only for the first time earlier in the day at a very traditionally suburban five year old's birthday party. When she heard about our year long travel, she insisted that we come to the marae to experience a cultural evening and a hangi.

A hangi is a traditional way of cooking in which fires are kindled in great pits dug into the ground. Round river rocks are put in on top of the fires until they are glowing red. Then food wrapped in cabbage leaves, (I think these are leaves from cabbage trees not cabbage the vegetable, but I'm not sure.) is put in baskets and lowered into the pits. Then the whole thing is covered with dirt and left overnight. It is dug up the next day and voila...dinner is served.

So we went to the marae, and the porwhiri which was called for 6:00. We felt very comfortable, because at around 6:45 is when it really started. Steve said he has never lived in a place which runs so much on his time as Northland. He is never late here. We were all welcomed in as a group (about a 100 people were there) and one of the elders said a karakia in Maori, a opening blessing. All Maori gatherings, including my Maori language class, start and end with karakia. They are incredibly spiritual and non-denominational. Then the elder began by welcoming the family and the boy and acknowledging all of the elders and the dead who came before and everyone present and all the guests. He spoke in both Maori and English. Then someone from the audience got up and responded in both Maori and English and acknowledged the family and the birthday boy and all the elders and the dead and the guest and everyone present and the hospitality of the marae and the community. Ginny later told us that anyone could have answered. It is a matter of who feels moved to respond and that multiple people can respond to the greeting which can sometimes make the welcome go on for a very long time.

Then it was time to eat. The spread was in the dining area. This marae was diffent than most in that they had tables set up in the main hall. Ginny said, generally, the main hall is reserved only for more sacred uses, but not in their marae. The food was fabulous. Cooked chicken and pork from the ground, mussels in cream sauce, cold fish stew, roasted kumara. Some of it, I had no idea what it was. There was something that looked like a split, roasted bird, but I was told was some kind of fish head. I sadly admit, I didn't try it. I did get a chance to finally try paua, which is a specialty around here. It is abalone which locals dive for. Supposedly you have to know how to cook it. It was chewy, but good in a cream sauce. It is green. Can't say I am dying to have it again, but glad I tried it.

We stayed and chatted with folks for a while, but left when it got dark as did most of the other families with young kids. After that the party was turning into a young adult disco and we made our way through the darkened gorge road and back home; fuller both in our tummies and in our cultural lives.