Haere rā e Te Mahunui
Patricia Silk-Anglem sits at a table in the kitchen, butter-ing loaves of bread that are stacked around her. Others join her during the morning of October 8. “I’m a bit late getting up this morning, seven o’clock. I’m usually up at about four.
“But we played cards last night. We thought we better have a game for our last weekend. We thought we’d have a little game of cards and a few drinks. We were just having a rehearsal for tonight.”
Silk-Anglem (Ngāi Tahu – Ngāi Tūāhuriri), known to many as Aunty Pat, has seen a few games of cards over the years. At 80-plus, she has plenty of memories of the good times at Tuahiwi Marae, which is nestled between Rangiora and Kaiapoi. “The Hall” as it is affectionately known has been a community hub for Ngāi Tūāhuriri and Ngāi Tahu at large.
“I’ve been coming here since I was about 11 or 12-years-old – long time ago. I love coming here. We’ve had good times. We’re sorry to see it going down but never mind, it’s gotta be.”
Ngai Tūāhuriri whānau had been considering demolishing the old hall for some time due to its deteriorating structure. This gave whānau the opportunity to consider future sustainability.
Robyn Wallace (Waitaha, Ngāti Māmoe, Ngāi Tahu – Ngāi Tūāhuriri), secretary for the marae development committee, says the hall had come to the end of its journey.
The committee – made up of Wallace, chairperson Arihia Bennett, Aunty Pat, Manea Flutey, Korōria Fowler, Justin Fowler and Rex Anglem in conjunction with a Marae Trustee and Rūnanga Executive working party – is now overseeing the new build that is due to start after Christmas. Wallace also asks to acknowledge the work of deceased committee members Makarini Pitama and Luke Fowler.
Ngāi Tūāhuriri ūpoko Rakiihia Tau has said the new wharenui may be open as soon as next Christmas.
The wharenui, officially known as Te Mahunui, was opened in 1922 during a week-long hearing into land grievances.
During the weekend Tau spoke several times about the history of Te Mahunui and its relevance to Ngāi Tahu.
“You can’t separate this place here from the Kaiapoi Māori Reserve. This place was actually a tuku aroha from the Teihoka, Te Aika and Solomon families. It was given as a place for our hapū.
“The hall played an important part in hapū activities. But more importantly it involved the community, because that was the purpose of the original gift.”
As a result Te Mahunui has hosted countless community gatherings, weddings, tangi, hui, sporting fixtures, church services, feasts and celebrations.
TE KARAKA visits Te Mahunui for the final hui dedicated to saying farewell to the old hall.
A month later the hall is demolished. Gone but not forgotten.
At the hui, kaumātua Charlie Crofts (Ngāi Tahu – Ngāi Tūāhuriri) shares one of his favourite memories of Tuahiwi and his namesake.
“Uncle Charlie won a car off Alec Walker, who used to be the bookie in Kaiapoi. It was a little coupé thing. He drove it through the pā here with one stick on the steering wheel and one stick on the accelerator and hiding behind in the dickie seat. Everyone thought the car was going through without a driver.”
Even cleaning the hall is a chance for a laugh. Once someone used a motorbike to speed that up, blatting around with someone sitting on a sack, dragging behind.
The floor looked quite good after that.
Te Mahunui once hosted the prophet Tahupōtiki Wīremu Rātana (Ngāti Apa, Ngā Rauru), whose influence on religion and politics is still felt today.
The service on Sunday morning is conducted with Rātana traditions and hymns, sung with the familiarity of those who’ve grown up with them.
Later during the kōrero, mentions of the dances that Tuahiwi hosted are greeted with knowing laughs from those who were there. It was obviously the place to be back in the day.
The rugby games too seem to have taken on legendary status in the constant retellings. Visiting teams knew they were in for a hard game. In one game, four opposition players were knocked out – but in the spirit of typical Tuahiwi hospitality, they were fed well afterwards.
The life of a Tuahiwi cook wasn’t always easy. During the kōrero, the youth are reminded of how easy they have it now given that they have a roof over their kitchen.
In the old days, cooking was done over an open fire that had an old bit of rail track slung across it with large pots hanging on hooks. Further, the cooks had to hunt for the kai and find the firewood as well.
In some ways things haven’t changed that much.
In the morning before daybreak, the fires are being lit under a pile of wood in the paddock. A group of men stand around, taking turns at nursing the flames, standing in a ritual silence punctuated by the odd joke as crackling flames leap into the air. Slabs of pork and vegetables in muslin bags are arranged carefully in wire baskets lined with watercress.
Steam hisses and envelops the baskets as they are dropped into the hole. There are a few kids hanging around, watching, learning without being taught.
In the cookhouse huge kōura are being cut up for a mornay. Most of it makes it but there are a few samples eaten along the way – quality control, apparently.
Throughout the weekend special mention is made of the soldiers who went to war, farewelled from the porch of Te Mahunui, fed and blessed as they went. Some never came back while those who did were never the same.
Alamein Pitama-Scholtens (Ngāi Tahu – Ngāi Tūāhuriri) and a group of kuia, head down to the urupā late on Sunday afternoon to lay flowers on the graves of whānau members.
One of those graves is that of her pōua Poi Wereta, who fought in both Gallipoli and WWII. He made it home but her uncle Tom didn’t.
“I was named after the battle of El Alamein because dad’s brother was killed and buried over there,” she says. “And I was born the same year. So he named me that in remembrance of his brother.”
They visit her father’s grave and the graves of other whānau. They lay flowers and fall silent for a moment out of respect.
Back at the hall the guitars are being tuned, and people drift out of the kitchen and cookhouse after the dishes and clean-up are done. Boxes of beer are pulled out of the chiller.
The men, who have been looking after the hāngi all weekend, tuck themselves in the corner and pass cold bottles along the row.
Patricia Silk-Anglem finally gets out of the kitchen and joins the fray. Before long she is singing with gusto along with everyone else, saying farewell to their beloved wharehui with song and a salute.
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February 1st, 2012 at 3:24 am
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