Let’s embrace our Ma¯ori tourism experiences
As part of an ongoing journey to explore and reclaim my Ma¯ oritanga, a year ago, I visited my wha¯ nau hauka¯ inga (family home) in the Far North. Until that point, my idea of ‘‘Ma¯ ori tourism’’ was pretty much just kapa haka and ha¯ ngı¯ in Rotorua.
But, on that trip, it became obvious how much a connection te ao Ma¯ ori shaped my experience, which then made me realise how much it shapes, or should shape, every tourist experience in Aotearoa.
This week’s issue introduces a bespoke Go-To Guide highlighting Ma¯ ori tourism experiences in Aotearoa, named Ki Wı¯wı¯, Ki Wa¯ wa¯ .
It means to ‘‘go walkabout’’ or to roam to unknown places; in short, to explore.
And really, that is what Ma¯ ori tourism is all about. On my Northland trip, the usual scenery was stunning, but more so was seeing our maunga, swimming in our moana, and driving the gravel roads surrounded by bush, to visit our urupa¯ .
When I stood at Te Rerenga-Wairua, I didn’t care about the lighthouse. Instead, I sat, watched and sent a silent karakia to the po¯ hutukawa where our spirits depart for Hawaiki.
Similarly, a recent bush walk in O¯ tanewainuku Forest, and some touristy explorations around Rotorua, took on similar new significance as I marvelled at how my tu¯ puna would have lived and travelled; how they would have collected kawakawa at O¯ tanewainuku, and cooked their kai in the bubbling pools at Waimangu Valley.
This, I realised, is what Ma¯ ori tourism is.
It is history and ma¯ tauranga (knowledge), it is the stories and waiata passed down through generations that give meaning to the things we see today.
It is the changes we endured with colonisation, and it is all the ways we have kept our culture despite them.
It is a connection to nature, and understanding what that means.
There is a reason people gaze upon our golden beaches, snow-capped mountains and towering forests, or hear our ka¯ ranga, haka and waiata, and often equate them to a ‘‘spiritual experience’’.
It’s because it is.