Mahuru Māori

Dry July, Sober October, Movember, there seems to be more ways to theme your months to add a bit of texture to the years, ironically as time goes by. I've never partaken in the forementioned focussed moons, but I have made a move on the latest one I've become aware of, Mahuru Māori.

Māori here refers to te reo Māori, the Māori language, and September has Te Wiki o te Reo Māori, AKA Māori Language Week so it is close to a time that might be celebrated in a school like ours. Previous to working where I do, even though I had an interest in language and more than a modicum of respect for the native language of New Zealand, that week had usually passed me by without any sense of observation. Matariki, on the other hand, I had often had pause to celebrate because stars are STARS! Just like an eclipse, or a rainbow, the emergence of the Matariki (AKA the Pleiades, Subaru, the Seven Sisters) before the rising sun, after a new moon, in the depth of winter was something to look out for, to allow one's wonder to seek. And that is before introducing a antipodean dimension of our own turn towards the southern hemisphere Spring, or the cultural aspect of the Māori new year and rebirth. Te Wiki, in comparison, felt a little forced and even a bit hollow - why September, why an only temporally segmented treatment for a language? But perhaps there was always a reason why September was chosen.

Mahuru is the fourth lunar month, from Matariki, approximately equivalent to September. In the naivety that pākehā might have as colonisers, it might intrigue some that a calendar wasn't introduced to te tangata whenua; there was already a calendar here, in fact, calendars, as there were regional varieties. It shouldn't surprise that there was a calendar but it is easy to mistake a "stone age" culture for an uncivilised culture. As an agricultural society with some very clear seasonal rhythms, time keeping and awareness of the cycles that fish and other animals keep in relation to the moon meant the difference between prosperity and struggle for the Māori. Mahuru itself is a star, Alphard, which reappears in the dawning morning around now. I'm quite looking forward to acquainting myself with it as it's in Hydra, not one of those celebrity constellations, and I will need it to rise a bit further to have a better acquaintance with him.

Mahuru Māori is a month to commit to learn or use more te reo in one's daily life. Fortunately, one of the managers under me was brought up in kōhanga reo (immersion preschools) so I can try my hand to use te reo and our organisation is supportive of the use of te reo and is self-consciously trying to implement some elements of tikanga in our practices, such as mihi whakatau (official greetings for a new employee) and I have quite a few karakia up my sleeve to open and close meetings. 

While I'm not conversant in te reo, I have a few gifts that are useful for this kind of environment: I am a proficient language learner: I know how to learn pronunciation. I can learn a lot of vocabulary in a little time. I rote learned three karakia in a weekend (beginning a meeting, blessing the food, and ending the meeting). I have all the tricks and tools that other people might not even tap into. But that was before I learned about Mahuru Māori and was struck by some inspiration for my own commitment to te marama nei (the current month/moon). I intend to do an ambitious short circuiting to my mastery of a language: I'm going to read a novel. This might seem like the deep-end approach, but it is pitching for my strength to make an overwhelming support for the building of my speaking and listening. Reading has its virtues as a main strength: constant exposure to useful vocabulary; the requirement to grammatically rewire one's brain to understand the gist; the interest value that only a narrative arc can bring to motivate. Te pukapuka (book) that sparked the interest was Te Tohorā Kaieke, the translated version of Whale Rider by Witi Ihimaera, which was ironically a Māori story written in English.