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Image: Alberto Agnoletto / EyeEm/Getty Images
Image: Alberto Agnoletto / EyeEm/Getty Images

ĀteaAugust 7, 2018

Move over astrology, it’s time to return to the Māori lunar calendar

Image: Alberto Agnoletto / EyeEm/Getty Images
Image: Alberto Agnoletto / EyeEm/Getty Images

A celebration of the resurgence of the maramataka.

Many indigenous cultures around the world have their own version of the maramataka which aligns with the phases of the moon, rather than the common Gregorian calendar. Māori and our Pasifika cousins are reviving and reconnecting with the maramataka to restore systems and knowledge of agricultural productivity, marine and forest gathering, resource management, health, healing and daily practices that provide sustenance for well-being.

The maramataka has no months, just periods or ngā wā o te tau. Traditionally, you move through seasons according to the tohu (signs, such as the blossoming of a certain flower or the appearance of a particular star) and tohu move and change all the time.

Today, however, the maramataka has been aligned with the Gregorian calendar to make it a bit easier to grasp. For some, the maramataka Māori is made up of twelve 29.5 day months and a 354-day year. For others it is made up of thirteen 28 day months, or 30 days with an extra day added from time to time to balance the calendar.

Cool, is it the same across the country?

Err, kāo. Because the maramataka uses tohu, different parts of the country will have different tohu relevant to their area. For example, inland iwi wouldn’t necessarily have the same tohu as those living on the coast. The stars visible at the top of the North Island can at times be different to the stars visible in the South Island. There are hundreds of variations of the maramataka, with slight differences to names of days and phases, however, there are a few common ones used nationwide.

For example?

In Hereturikōkā (also known as Here o Piripi, approximately equivalent to August), the last month of Hōtoke, the whitebait season starts. The kōwhai will begin to bloom, signalling the time for the kūmara to be planted in shallow beds for sprouting.

So this calendar tells us when we should plant food?

Our tūpuna developed the maramataka based on their close relationship and understanding of our taiao. It connects the whenua, rangi and moana. By closely observing the environment, those clever tūpuna were able to identify days each month that were better suited for particular activities and to help predict the season ahead.

The maramataka can tell us the best days for planting, fishing and harvesting while also telling us high and low energy days, the effect those days can have on people’s moods and how you should best spend your day.

Wait, it affects my moods?

Yep, throw away that mood ring and look to the moon instead. The days of the maramataka include:

Oturu – high energy, good day to finalise big decisions
Rakaunui – high energy, schedule special occasions
Rakau a Tohi – high energy, good day for big meetings
Tangaroa a Mua – surging energy, complete your chores
Tangaroa a Roto – surging energy, make the most of your productive time
Tangaroa Kiokio – surging energy, try something new
Ohoata – building energy, do some exercise
Ouenuku – building energy, move your tinana
Okoro – building energy, a great motivation day
Tamatea a Ngana – unpredictable energy, avoid making big decisions or scheduling meetings
Tamatea a Hotu – unpredictable energy, have patience
Tamatea a Io – unpredictable energy, focus on yourself

On low energy days rest, relax and take time to focus on yourself. Image: Andresr/Getty images

Omauri – low energy, take it easy
Mutuwhenua – low energy, rest, relax and plan
Whiro – low energy, motivation is low, sit on the couch with a good book or movie
Tirea – low energy, a good day to plan and schedule
Tamatea Kai Ariki – low energy, time to reflect
Huna – low energy, meditate
Ariroa – rising energy, rest day
Hotu – rising energy, practise mindfulness
Oike – rising energy, have a break, have a KitKat
Korekore te Whiawhia – static energy, be mindful of what you say and do
Korekore te Rawea  – static energy, be extra patient
Korekore Piri nga Tangaroa – static energy, start to reinvigorate

How many seasons are there in the maramataka Māori?

Two. Hōtoke and Raumati.

Hōtoke phases are Wero i te Ninihi, Wero i te Kokota, Whakataka, Takurua a Uru, Takurua a Io and Takurua Angana.

The Raumati (summer) phases are:

Matiti Kura – This is the first phase and is triggered by the ripening of the small red berries in the bush. The timeframe is toward the end of October.
Matiti Hana – This second phase is recognisable when the Puawananga or Puareinga flowers (Clematis) turn the top canopy of the forest a brilliant white.
Matiti Muramura -This third phase is noted for the flowering of the Northern Rātā and the old Pohutukawa. The canopy turns from white (Hana) to red (Muramura).
Matiti Kaiwai – Is known as the middle of summer. This is when the ground is so dry it opens up and thirsts for water.
Matiti Raurehu – This 5th phase is the most difficult to detect. But usually occurs in early February. It may even precede the rise of the harvest star Whanui. You can recognise this phase by watching out for a white dust-like substances on the lawn that resembles a frost.
Matiti Rautapata – This 6th phase is easily identifiable if you are near a bush area. This is when the seed pods burst and the seeds fall (tapata) onto the dry leaf bed below.
Matiti Rauangina – This is the last phase of summer and is very easy to identify. Just keep an eye out for leaves that swing to and fro as they fall from the trees. This rhythmic dance is call “te angina”– “free fall”.

Where can I learn more?

In Ātea’s maramataka column by Ayla Hoeta, who is a student of Matua Rereata Mākiha. Published monthly, it shares kōrero of the season, note tohu o te rangi, whenua and moana, and identify key dates to put in your calendar to plan your activities around. Read our archive here.

To help keep track of the days, you can download your own maramataka dial here. If you live on the west coast, set your dial to Rakaunui the day before the full moon. If you live on the east coast, set your dial to Rakaunui the day of the full moon. Reset your dial each new moon cycle.

Click the image to download and print your own maramataka dial.

You can also download resources from Te Papa Tongarewa – Museum of New Zealand, order your own maramataka wall planner from Ahikaaroa Trust and watch this fascinating documentary featuring Hokianga astronomer Matua Rereata Mākiha.

** Ngā mihi nui ki a Rereata Makiha rātou ko Ayla Hoeta, ko Anaru Ah Kew i ā rātou āwhina i tēnei pito kōrero

Keep going!
Image: Visions of America/Getty
Image: Visions of America/Getty

ĀteaAugust 7, 2018

The monoculture is dead, and hooray for that

Image: Visions of America/Getty
Image: Visions of America/Getty

Hobson’s Pledge and their ilk argue for a culture that treats everyone the same. Anthropologist Haimona Gray looks at what’s actually at stake when we embrace multiculturalism.

Go look at a wall!

Is it very different to say, dirt? It is, because a wall is not a natural phenomenon. A person made that wall, but not before other people came up with the idea of a wall and how they should be built. The oldest, still standing, man-made walls are 11,500 years old and can be found in what is now southern Turkey.

Cross cultural exchanges of ideas and actions gave you that wall. They also influenced over thousands of years the type of walls you come across today, and your personal taste in walls right now. It took centuries of experimentation by many different cultures, and the sharing of knowledge about wall building, to perfect that wall.

The History Of All Human Endeavour – tl;dr version

Herein lies the problem of discussing ‘culture’ – it incorporates essentially all human knowledge. Because of this it will always evolve faster than our ability to manage or control it. Like how Wikipedia grows faster than anyone could read it all.

Culture includes all ‘social learnings’ – these are skills or knowledge we have learned from our cultural upbringing as opposed to individual lessons gained from personal trial and error. It can be mundane in its micro-focus, but it is vital to understanding whether we have anything to fear from new people and cultures.

In human history there are no concrete examples of multiculturalism contributing to the collapse of society. Diseases collapse societies. Wars for cultural domination and assimilation frequently collapses societies.

The real fear is that if we don’t learn enough from these examples and cultures we will be stuck doing the same things in the same way until our nation falls so far behind culturally – including economically and technologically – that we become a state of Australia.

A state of bloody Australia.

New Zealand, or The Only Good Zealand?

Privileging sources of knowledge from people who look like you or agree with you is anti-academic and anti-evolutionary. Why? Because it defies our basic need to adapt to an already globally influenced society and changing environment.

Culture is often misunderstood as both exotic and divisive. Not speaking English in New Zealand is seen by some as a ‘cultural’ decision, but speaking English is seen as part of being a ‘normal’ New Zealander.

This oppositional approach stems from generations of intellectual laziness supported by an overwhelming desire to smother New Zealand in Anglo-Saxon traditions and rules.

This image of Anglo-Saxon culture isn’t grounded in the up-to-date distinct cultural traditions or practices of the United Kingdom. It is a cover of a misremembered song, played by a drunk who forgot the words mid-song and so started humming.

Language has the ability to evolve quickly and demonstrably in interesting and traceable ways. The English language is a distinct cultural product, but not of New Zealand. Our dialects have evolved in our own little cultural laboratory thanks to decades of cross-cultural exchange of words. It turns out some vowels weren’t popular amongst the group and, with limited motive, culture did what it does and evolved for the surroundings.

This is why, rightly or wrongly, I personally like the ‘Nu Zillind’ pronunciation. It is informal and fitting of us as a nation, because it’s making the most out of a poor decision made somewhere else.

A Māori Scottish Pole walks into a bar alone

A guy once told me he doesn’t see race. I asked him if he saw his own.

His point was that all people should be treated the same, regardless of race, gender or anything else. My point was that he had already created an oppositional dynamic between himself (and his race) and anyone with needs different from his own.

“I don’t see race” is the opposite of critical thinking – it frames how this person wanted to be treated by other cultures as the gold standard for everyone, dismissing any self-reflection or discussion about how his treatment of others actually comes across.

Focusing on what unites us comes from a place of good intentions. But doing so says that you place more value an unchanging world than on protecting the things about the cultures of New Zealand that make us unique, and what we can learn from those cultures to find the next great idea. Ideas like the new wall, which probably won’t look like a wall but will be just as revolutionary.

Pre-colonisation Māori culture grew into its surroundings, making each person’s rohe a part of their definition of themselves. From roughly the fourteenth century until invasion, different iwi’s practices evolved with the growing of knowledge of the land.

Early immigrants found many parts of our nation a challenging place to prosper using skill sets designed and honed on the other side of the world, and relied heavily on Māori support to eek out an existence.

What started out promisingly – as cultures learned from each other, developing shared skills and building a society far stronger and united than that which the immigrants had left behind – devolved into a tacky knock-off England. Our housing stock, our streets, and even our capital city were designed in defiance of local common sense and for another hemisphere.

Culture is a collection of successful and meaningful practices which have survived and evolved throughout history. This is why we need more of it, not less, if we are to understand and be prepared for the future.

Cultures are like data points on a graph to survival: the more we learn, the better we are at seeing the full picture of humanity and what is needed to keep existing.

This is why attempts to erase all but the most dominant cultures are always doomed to fail – because those who do so see culture as set, something capable of being destroyed and replaced with their own. They’re too focused on the now, not focused on learning from the history of everything they rely on to survive.

Sapa sui: the food of the present and the future

New Zealand has an indigenous culture which first adapted to the environment, and which was later followed by a culture that tried to adapt the environment and people to them. Then others cultures followed that weren’t made to feel welcome.

Let’s try again, with feeling this time. All of these cultures have positive contributions to make to the nation; as history has shown us, we can’t live in a bubble and expect to keep up with the rest of the world.

This isn’t a great big mixing pot – we need to not be blind to other cultures for convenience. We need to come together like a rainbow layer cake, each level complementing the next without overpowering the last.

If cake is too sweet for you, even in metaphor form, how about sapa sui?

Sapa sui is a Samoan variation on chop suey. It is a delicious and simple example of how something perfect can be made into something equally great but new, distinct and regionally designed.

We all need to be a little more like sapa sui. Here’s a good recipe.

Beyond New Australia

Cross cultural exchanges of ideas and actions are our only hope to survive as a nation and not just a state of Australia.

What we have in New Zealand is pretty sweet in a lot of ways. We have a stable society not facing any existential threats other than maybe natural ones. We have attracted highly productive and diverse waves of migrants. Each has brought unquestionable wealth to this country. We wouldn’t have half our health system without migrants.

To be honest I have never understood the anti-migrant and anti-culture mindset. That probably comes with being ethnically Māori and Scottish, with a Żubrówka shot of Polish in there too.

It’s not that I have never come across it. As a parliamentary service staffer in my early 20s dealing with correspondence I saw some extreme anti-migrant treatises – if it was written by hand and over ten pages long I knew I was in for an unpleasant read. In spite of it all I have never fallen into the trap of thinking those people, or this mindset, is the present or the future. All because of a kindly Scottish Presbyterian grandmother in Palmerston North who politely disagreed with “that nonsense”.

When my grandparents’ church started a Korean language night for a recent influx of Presbyterian Korean migrants and including the language in hymn sheets, my grandmother was thrilled.

As a Christian, my grandmother saw the chance to convert souls as God’s will, but she wasn’t offended that they needed sermons in their own language or with more Korean iconography. She recognised that these people were seeking the same thing she was.

I’ve seen the consequences of multiculturalism: they are the nice old grandmothers in Palmy North singing in Korean, they are you using Hindu-Arabic numerals every time you swipe a credit or debit card, they are pronouncing it “nuu zilind”, and they – significantly in my opinion – are not dying.

Seems like we are getting an amazing deal in spite of our media. And ourselves.

Haimona Gray (Ngāti Kahungunu ki Wairarapa, Rangitāne ki Wairarapa) is a trained anthropologist and a colourful character.

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