Magical Matariki
Indeed, there is Matariki, hanging on the horizon!
The Māori New Year is an opportunity to be more in tune with ourselves.
Learning to be aware of our ever-changing Aotearoa environment allows us to be more in tune with ourselves. Feeling exhausted, out of sync and just hōhā (fed up) can manifest as the winter blues in a season that is already quite low and depressing.
Recently we all gave a cheer at the announcement of a public holiday to honour Te Tau Hou o te Māori, the Māori New Year, marked by the re-emergence of the star cluster Matariki. Frankly the more time to stay warm indoors cuddled up with my little whānau the better I say!
Indigenous beliefs are to not alter or control the environment, but to rather make use of it in a respectful and co-habitual way. Humans are indeed not actually separate from our natural world.
My whānau use maramataka, the Māori lunar calendar, as a guide to better understand natural energies and plan work and rest accordingly. Marama means light and understanding. Taka means to fall and maramataka means everything under the influence of the moon. This ancient knowledge and science match each moon phase and season to land, sea and species movements. Thousands of years of information has been passed down to each generation to ensure an understanding of how to make use of the lunar cycle, for abundance, productivity and balance.
Many iwi and whānau lost it for a bit, once we moved out of the gardens and stopped growing kai, buying fish from the supermarket rather than practising the skill of seafood-harvesting.
The best time to look for Matariki and Puanga is on the new moon of Whiro. The sky is completely dark, and the stars are out and easy to see.
It’s not a competition or a race to see who sees the Matariki star cluster re-appear on the horizon first. Some tribes from Te Tai Tokerau (Northland), Taranaki and Whanganui honour the marker of the new year by the appearance of a different star, Puanga.
Different to the January New-Year-hype-atmidnight countdown, 3,2,1 kiss kiss and then it’s pretty much over (apart from a few lingering New Year resolutions), Te Tau Hou o te Māori may be celebrated most of winter if you want it to!
This long winter weekend we had our Maramataka Māori launch party releasing the maramataka calendar we produce each year, which goes nationwide. Mulled wine and a whānau atmosphere featured with DJ dancing and Matariki-themed decorations, oysters (fat and in season at the moment) with a lemon wedge for sourness and immunity. As the tamariki cut the moon-and-stars cake we all felt a sense of excitement to allow ourselves to rest, recuperate and recover, revive as the cold closes further in and limits our movements.
Afterwards we went beachside, out to the small seaside estuary of Pataua, west of Whangarei. It was different to be by the seaside moana rugged up inside, enjoying whānau gossiping and storytelling, drinking lots of herbal honey drinks. We watched the wind blowing hard and sending sea spray across the water and were grateful to be safe and full of aroha in a warm whare.
Standing in Te Taitokerau gazing at the full moon of Ōturu, of course it is the same marama being seen in Te Waipounamu (South Island). What is different is the many unique microclimates throughout Aotearoa we live in. The maramataka of my tribe Ngāti Hine is prominently around the movements of the tuna eel – our ancient maramataka records instruct us on the best moons and ways to fish for eels.
Ngāti Hine has a tradition of helping the tangariki, small elver eels returning from the breeding grounds near Tonga. After travelling thousands of kilometres, the tangariki reach the obstacle of the waterfall at Otiria. Gathering to scoop into keteriki (small baskets), the tangariki are carefully placed up top of the falls and able to carry on their merry way to the smaller streams and contributories. This act signifies the importance to understand the right time to do this, if we were to miss the moment, we would not have an abundance of full-grown tuna to eat later to sustain us in the winter months. Not so coincidentally my youngest daughter is named Keteriki as a reminder of our commitment to the health of our environment and survival of our iwi by continuing to eat our traditional kai sources.
Meanwhile, my other daughter has decided to play Saturday soccer, the idea of an early-morning winter wake-up goes completely against my natural body clock, catch a ride with your aunty I say!
If we consider our natural world it is quiet, reclusing to revive. The month of August is called Here turi kōkā, which means to sit together close, keeping warm, when higher learning is at its optimum. If we are restricted in our physical movements, this is peak time to tap into our higher intellectual potential.
E wiri ana te tinana I te makariri, the body is shivering in the cold. Engari Koi tonu te hinengaro. But keep the mind sharp! g