Maori Quotes

Turn your face toward the sun and the shadows will fall behind you.

Our people once were warriors. But unlike you, Jake, they were people with mana, pride; people with spirit. If my spirit can survive living with you for eighteen years, then I can survive anything.

Give me the Maori Battalion and I will conquer the world

Kaua e mate wheke. Me mate ururoa. (Don't die like an octopus. Die like a hammerhead shark.)

Take no heed of good looks , but rather of callused hand. Old Maori saying: Choose a husband for his work, not his appearance.

Utu--Maori revenge. 'Do everything well, boy. Do it better than them. Be a better rugby player, better at your job. Outshine them everywhere. Tramp on their pride. Go far, and leave them sniveling in your dust.

Men are foolish creatures sometimes, even the wisest of them." Marion

What makes the strength of the soldier isn't the energy he uses trying to intimidate the other guy by sending him a whole lot of signals, it's the strength he's able to concentrate within himself, by staying centered. That Maori player was like a tree, a great indestructible oak with deep roots and a powerful radiance- everyone could feel it. And yet you also got the impression that the great oak could fly, that it would be as quick as the wind, despite, or perhaps because of, its deep roots.

I said that I feel bad whenever I drive, because I’m adding to global warming. The Maori nodded agreement. So did Jeannette. Then she added fervently, “But you didn’t set up the system. Do what you can, but don’t identify with the problem. If you internalize what is not yours, you fight not only them but yourself as well. Take responsibility only for that which you’re responsible—your own thoughts and actions. You didn’t make the car culture, you didn’t set up factory farming. Do what you can to shut those things down.

But, Henry, this is wicked!' But, Adam, the world is wicked. Maoris prey on Moriori, Whites prey on darker-hued cousins, fleas prey on mice, cats prey on rats, Christians on infidels, first mates on cabin boys, Death on the Living. 'The weak are meat, the strong do eat.

And the quiet of the house is also the quiet of stalks and vines that no longer jangle at any touch of of wind, or bird, or person passing, but which have been laced and bound into new patterns and have been now given new stories to tell. Stories that lace and bind the earthly matters to matters not of earth.

A Maori conqueror explained, “We took possession…in accordance with our customs and we caught all the people.

Moriori survivor recalled, “[The Maori] commenced to kill us like sheep….

Maori began to walk through Moriori settlements, announcing that the Moriori were now their slaves, and killing those who objected.

the Maoris of New Zealand have thirty-five words for dung (don’t ask me why).

Crosbie teach you a bit of English, Ted?” “I taught him,” said Tauwhare. “I taught him korero Maori! You say Thomas—I say Tamati. You say Crosbie—I say korero mai! 

For the Aborigines of Australia and the Maoris of New Zealand, the Cook expedition was the beginning of a catastrophe from which they have never recovered.

martial people, however, it was not long before Maori began to use muskets in inter-tribal

the Maori and their haka. It is death. It is death, they chant. To terrify, to petrify.

Gray is to Berliners what white is to Eskimos and red is to the Maori.

Beauty” is not universal or changeless, though the West pretends that all ideals of female beauty stem from one Platonic Ideal Woman; the Maori admire a fat vulva, and the Padung, droopy breasts.

...an early missionary in New Zealand heard a Maori warrior taunting the preserved head of an enemy chief in the following fashion: You wanted to run away, did you? but my meri (war club] overtook you: and after you were cooked, you made food for my mouth. And where is your father? he is cooked: and where is your brother? he is eaten:-and where is your wife? there she sits, a wife for me:-and where are your children? there they are, with loads on their backs, carrying food, as my slaves.' In Maori warfare, decapitation marked the beginning, not the end, of a vanquished warrior's humiliation.

That news was enough to induce 900 Maori to sail to the Chathams. The outcome clearly illustrates how environments can affect economy, technology, political organization, and fighting skills within a short time.

The Maoris, New Zealand’s first Sapiens colonisers, reached the islands about 800 years ago. Within a couple of centuries, the majority of the local megafauna was extinct, along with 60 per cent of all bird species.

In the century following the Cook expedition, the most fertile lands of Australia and New Zealand were taken from their previous inhabitants by European settlers. The native population dropped by up to 90 per cent and the survivors were subjected to a harsh regime of racial oppression. For the Aborigines of Australia and the Maoris of New Zealand, the Cook expedition was the beginning of a catastrophe from which they have never recovered.

But the wireless," asked Momulla. "What has the wireless to do with our remaining here?" "Oh yes," replied Gust, scratching his head. He was wondering if the Maori were really so ignorant as to believe the preposterous lie he was about to unload upon him. "Oh yes! You see every warship is equipped with what they call a wireless apparatus. It lets them talk to other ships hundreds of miles away, and it lets them listen to all that is said on these other ships.

Intermarriage with Maori has long precedent behind it; one must accept it. But one need not like it. Mixing the races is always a bad idea.” (Vickie, Vickie, do you know of a better idea for getting the world out of the mess it is in?)

A truly enlightened attitude to language should simply be to let six thousand or more flowers bloom. Subcultures should be allowed to thrive, not just because it is wrong to squash them, because they enrich the wider culture. Just as Black English has left its mark on standard English Culture, South Africans take pride in the marks of Afrikaans and African languages on their vocabulary and syntax. New Zealand's rugby team chants in Maori, dancing a traditional dance, before matches. French kids flirt with rebellion by using verlan, a slang that reverses words' sounds or syllables (so femmes becomes meuf). Argentines glory in lunfardo, an argot developed from the underworld a centyry ago that makes Argentine Spanish unique still today. The nonstandard greeting "Where y'at?" for "How are you?" is so common among certain whites in New Orleans that they bear their difference with pride, calling themselves Yats. And that's how it should be.

In Debt, the anthropologist David Graeber tells the story of Tei Reinga, a Maori villager and “notorious glutton” who used to wander up and down the New Zealand coast, badgering the local fishermen by asking for the best portions of their catch. Since it’s impolite in Maori culture (as in many cultures) to refuse a direct request for food, the fishermen would oblige—but with ever-increasing reluctance. And so as Reinga continued to ask for food, their resentment grew until “one day, people decided enough was enough and killed him.” This story is extreme, to say the least, but it illustrates how norm-following and norm-enforcement can be a very high-stakes game. Reinga flouted an important norm (against freeloading) and eventually paid dearly for it. But just as tellingly, the fishermen who put him to death felt so duty-bound by a different norm (the norm of food-sharing) that they followed it even to the point of building up murderous resentment. “Couldn’t you just have said no to Reinga’s requests?!” we want to shout at the villagers.

There was in the meeting-house a wood quiet. It was the quiet of trees that have been brought in out of the wind, whose new-shown limbs reach out, not to the sky but to the people. This is the quiet, still, otherness of trees found by the carver, the shaper, the maker.

If popular mythology is to be believed, the discoverer of New Zealand was a Polynesian voyager named Kupe. Oddly, this myth was Pakeha in origin rather than Maori. Maori came to embrace it solely as a result of its widespread publication and dissemination in New Zealand primary schools between the 1910s and the 1970s.

ON THE CHATHAM ISLANDS, 500 MILES EAST OF NEW Zealand, centuries of independence came to a brutal end for the Moriori people in December 1835. On November 19 of that year, a ship carrying 500 Maori armed with guns, clubs, and axes arrived, followed on December 5 by a shipload of 400 more Maori. Groups of Maori began to walk through Moriori settlements, announcing that the Moriori were now their slaves, and killing those who objected. An organized resistance by the Moriori could still then have defeated the Maori, who were outnumbered two to one. However, the Moriori had a tradition of resolving disputes peacefully. They decided in a council meeting not to fight back but to offer peace, friendship, and a division of resources. Before the Moriori could deliver that offer, the Maori attacked en masse. Over the course of the next few days, they killed hundreds of Moriori, cooked and ate many of the bodies, and enslaved all the others, killing most of them too over the next few years as it suited their whim.

At one stop in New Zealand, an Englishman bartered for sex. He was presented with a boy; when he complained, he was presented with another. The English related this incident with amusement, as a cruel joke. But the Maori may have supposed that homosexuality was the English norm. How else to account for the absence among them of women and children?

The goal of tattooing was never beauty. The goal was change. From the scarified Nubian priests of 2000 B.C., to the tattooed acolytes of the Cybele cult of ancient Rome, to the moko scars of the modern Maori, humans have tattooed themselves as a way of offering up their bodies in partial sacrifice, enduring the physical pain of embellishment and emerging changed beings.

Every generation of children instinctively nests itself in nature, no matter matter how tiny a scrap of it they can grasp. In a tale of one city child, the poet Audre Lord remembers picking tufts of grass which crept up through the paving stones in New York City and giving them as bouquets to her mother. It is a tale of two necessities. The grass must grow, no matter the concrete suppressing it. The child must find her way to the green, no matter the edifice which would crush it. "The Maori word for placenta is the same word for land, so at birth the placenta is buried, put back in the mothering earth. A Hindu baby may receive the sun-showing rite surya-darsana when, with conch shells ringing to the skies, the child is introduced to the sun. A newborn child of the Tonga people 'meets' the moon, dipped in the ocean of Kosi Bay in KwaZulu-Natal. Among some of the tribes of India, the qualities of different aspects of nature are invoked to bless the child, so he or she may have the characteristics of earth, sky and wind, of birds and animals, right down to the earthworm. Nothing is unbelonging to the child. "'My oldest memories have the flavor of earth,' wrote Frederico García Lorca. In the traditions of the Australian deserts, even from its time in the womb, the baby is catscradled in kinship with the world. Born into a sandy hollow, it is cleaned with sand and 'smoked' by fire, and everything -- insects, birds, plants, and animals -- is named to the child, who is told not only what everything is called but also the relationship between the child and each creature. Story and song weave the child into the subtle world of the Dreaming, the nested knowledge of how the child belongs. "The threads which tie the child to the land include its conception site and the significant places of the Dreaming inherited through its parents. Introduced to creatures and land features as to relations, the child is folded into the land, wrapped into country, and the stories press on the child's mind like the making of felt -- soft and often -- storytelling until the feeling of the story of the country is impressed into the landscape of the child's mind. "That the juggernaut of ants belongs to a child, belligerently following its own trail. That the twitch of an animal's tail is part of a child's own tale or storyline, once and now again. That on the papery bark of a tree may be written the songline of a child's name. That the prickles of a thornbush may have dynamic relevance to conscience. That a damp hollow by the riverbank is not an occasional place to visit but a permanent part of who you are. This is the beginning of belonging, the beginning of love. "In the art and myth of Indigenous Australia, the Ancestors seeded the country with its children, so the shimmering, pouring, circling, wheeling, spinning land is lit up with them, cartwheeling into life.... "The human heart's love for nature cannot ultimately be concreted over. Like Audre Lord's tufts of grass, will crack apart paving stones to grasp the sun. Children know they are made of the same stuff as the grass, as Walt Whitman describes nature creating the child who becomes what he sees: There was a child went forth every day And the first object he look'd upon, that object he became... The early lilacs became part of this child... And the song of the phoebe-bird... In Australia, people may talk of the child's conception site as the origin of their selfhood and their picture of themselves. As Whitman wrote of the child becoming aspects of the land, so in Northern Queensland a Kunjen elder describes the conception site as 'the home place for your image.' Land can make someone who they are, giving them fragments of themselves.

It's the shape of the stories that matters, the way belief forms around it. The story has real weight', He pointed at himself. 'Patupaiarehe look like monsters in some stories, but they're beautiful in a lot. I guess people believed more in the beautiful version. And the ideal of beauty changes. If I'd been born two hundred years ago, I bet I wouldn't look like this. The stories shaped me. They shape everyone, inside and out, but me more than most, because I'm magic.

Malcolm’s friend, Ishak, tells him to be strong. Be strong—it is also a saying used by New Zealand Maori who will urge, kia kaha. My husband repeats to himself, Be strong, as if trying it on for size. Yet he is finding it impossible to be strong. He realises that Ishak’s advice is that of a believer, one who sees a point to all this suffering. A superior being has willed it, and there is life after death. Malcolm admires that certainty, that belief. But he does not share it.

Fresh start. Day two, socks around my ankles, way down, two Maori boys approached me before I could get to my desk. Probelm solved. That day and in the many enjoyable ones that followed, my classmates asked me dozen of questions about America, while detailing essential subjects for a New Zealand boy in 1976, including lollies, meat pies and chips, cricket and rugby, ABBA and Tintin comic books, and why their relatives with tattoos on their face did that funy dance while sticking out their tounges.

Moody blinked and looked around him. Balfour’s narrative, disjunctive and chaotic as it was, had indeed accounted for the presence of every man in the room. There by the window was the Maori man, Te Rau Tauwhare, who had been Crosbie’s loyal friend in life, though he had unwittingly betrayed him at the last. There in the farthest corner was Charlie Frost, the banker who had engineered the sale of Wells’s house and land, and opposite him, the newspaperman Benjamin Löwenthal, who had heard about the death within mere hours of its occurrence. Edgar Clinch, purchaser of Wells’s estate, was sitting on the sofa beside the billiard table, smoothing his mustache with his finger and thumb.

He watched the whispered message pass from man to man. He could not distinguish any proper nouns—the jumble of unfamiliar accents made that impossible—but it was evident that the matter under discussion was one that concerned every man in the room. He forced his mind to evaluate the situation carefully and rationally. Inattention had led him to err in judgment once already that evening; he would not err again. Some kind of heist was in the offing, he guessed, or maybe they were forming an alliance against another man. Mr. Carver, perhaps. They numbered twelve, which put Moody in mind of a jury…but the presence of the Chinese men and the Maori native made that impossible. Had he interrupted a secret council of a kind? But what kind of council could possibly comprise such a diverse range of race, income, and estate?

Het is niet verrassend dat de inheemse bevolking van Hawaii en de Maori's niet staan de juichen als paleontologen hun vertellen dat hun voorouders de helft van all e vogelsoorten die op Hawaii en Nieuw-Zeeland waren geëvolueerd hebben uitgeroeid, en evenmin vinden de Indianen het leuk als archeologen hun vertellen dat de Anasazi delen van de zuidwestelijke Verenigde Staten hebben ontbost. De veronderstelde ontdekkingen van paleontologen en archeologen klinken voor sommige toehoorders als het zoveelste racistische voorwendsel dat blanken naar voor brengen om inheemse volkeren van hun grond te verjagen. Het lijkt alsof wetenschappers zeggen:'Jullie voorouders waren slechte rentmeesters van hun land, dus ze verdienden het om te worden verdreven.' Sommige blanke Amerikanen en Australiërs die verontwaardigd zijn over de betalingen door de overheid en het teruggeven van land an de Indianen en aboriginals, grijpen inderdaad naar zulke ontdekkingen om dat argument naar voor te brengen.

the Cook expedition had another, far less benign result. Cook was not only an experienced seaman and geographer, but also a naval officer. The Royal Society financed a large part of the expedition’s expenses, but the ship itself was provided by the Royal Navy. The navy also seconded eighty-five well-armed sailors and marines, and equipped the ship with artillery, muskets, gunpowder and other weaponry. Much of the information collected by the expedition – particularly the astronomical, geographical, meteorological and anthropological data – was of obvious political and military value. The discovery of an effective treatment for scurvy greatly contributed to British control of the world’s oceans and its ability to send armies to the other side of the world. Cook claimed for Britain many of the islands and lands he ‘discovered’, most notably Australia. The Cook expedition laid the foundation for the British occupation of the south-western Pacific Ocean; for the conquest of Australia, Tasmania and New Zealand; for the settlement of millions of Europeans in the new colonies; and for the extermination of their native cultures and most of their native populations.2 In the century following the Cook expedition, the most fertile lands of Australia and New Zealand were taken from their previous inhabitants by European settlers. The native population dropped by up to 90 per cent and the survivors were subjected to a harsh regime of racial oppression. For the Aborigines of Australia and the Maoris of New Zealand, the Cook expedition was the beginning of a catastrophe from which they have never recovered. An even worse fate befell the natives of Tasmania. Having survived for 10,000 years in splendid isolation, they were completely wiped out, to the last man, woman and child, within a century of Cook’s arrival. European settlers first drove them off the richest parts of the island, and then, coveting even the remaining wilderness, hunted them down and killed them systematically. The few survivors were hounded into an evangelical concentration camp, where well-meaning but not particularly open-minded missionaries tried to indoctrinate them in the ways of the modern world. The Tasmanians were instructed in reading and writing, Christianity and various ‘productive skills’ such as sewing clothes and farming. But they refused to learn. They became ever more melancholic, stopped having children, lost all interest in life, and finally chose the only escape route from the modern world of science and progress – death. Alas,

Kia ora meant hello. Tana was man, wahine woman. She learned that you did not say “thank you” but showed your gratitude through actions and that the Maori did not shake hands in greeting but rubbed noses instead. This ritual was called hongi

So many New Zealanders don’t seem to see themselves as New Zealanders.  They see themselves as either Maori or European New Zealanders, and these are the principle ethnicity boxes on most forms you fill in.  It seems to make no difference that the European and Maori blood lines are so mixed now as to be inseparable.  If you can prove any Maori blood then you are entitled to a cut of the Treaty payouts, special voting rights and increased rights to certain natural resources.  There's even a Maori political party which, in its very existence, is surely an indictment on the depth of racism through all levels of society.  Is it any surprise that there is resentment and racism in parts of the community towards Maori?

In 1880 the colony had increased to 500,000 white people, owning 12,000,000 sheep and exporting nearly £6,000,000 worth of goods. The Maoris were 44,000, but while the whites were rapidly increasing, the Maoris were somewhat decreasing. They had 112,000 sheep

to make anyone a fluent speaker. That would have been an unrealistic goal. But it turns out to be just enough vocabulary to let you hit the ground running once you’re authentically immersed in a language. This reminded me of the anecdote that opens an article I wrote on the lexical approach (Thornbury 1998: 7): A New Zealand friend of mine who is studying Maori asked me recently what I, as a language teacher, would make of his teacher’s method: ‘We just do masses of words – around a theme, for example, family, or food, etc. We have to learn these words before the next lesson. Then we come back and have a

The native Maori in New Zealand, used large quantities of foods from the sea, wherever these were available

A splendid illustration of the primitive Maori instinct or wisdom regarding the value of sea foods was shown in an experience we had while making examinations in a native school on the east coast of the North Islands. I was impressed with the fact that the children in the school gave very little evidence of having active dental caries. I asked the teacher what the children brought from their

In an examination of 250 Maori skulls--all from an uncivilized age--I found carious teeth present in only two skulls or 0.76 per cent. By taking the average of Mummery's and my own investigations, the incidence of caries in the Maori is found to be 1.2 per cent in a total of 326 skulls. This is lower even than the Esquimaux, and shows the Maori to have been the most immune race to caries, for which statistics are available. Comparing these figures with those applicable to the present time, we find that the descendants of the Britons and Anglo-Saxons are afflicted with dental caries to the extent of 86 per cent to 98 per cent; and after examining fifty Maori school children living under European conditions entirely, I found that 95 per cent of them had decayed teeth

We confine ourselves to a singular point and adamantly proclaim an Aryan to be a member of any race. Honor can be found in men from any race or tribe, and so can spiritual maturity. The Aryan who is spiritually and technically advanced automatically benefits and civilizes the world he inhabits. No amount of ordinary men can achieve what he achieves. Furthermore, an Aryan can be Jew or Gentile, Saxon or Hindu, Celt or Egyptian, Oriental or Nordic, Maya or Maori. Originally, Aryans were the technically and spiritually endowed seers, sages or elders of Atlantis, Lemuria and other lost civilizations that flourished and then fell over ten thousand years ago. In this sense the word Aryan is interchangeable with Druid. J. W. Arch, in Written Records of the Cwmry, says that the Druids, unlike the hereditary priest castes of the Eastern world, owed their sacrosanct character, not to blood and race, but to a long continued course of instruction, from which they were supposed to emerge a wiser, more sober, better informed, and a more learned class – Dudley Wright (Druidism: Ancient Faith of Ireland)

The early Greek tribal society resembles in many respects that of peoples like the Polynesians, the Maoris for instance. Small bands of warriors, usually living in fortified settlements, ruled by tribal chiefs or kings, or by aristocratic families, were waging war against one another on sea as well as on land.

the treaty was not worth the paper on which it was written. "The

Science is all very well when a man can afford to make it his hobby, but I have come to the conclusion that a man has no right to ride a hobby while his family have to work to make a living." "But

The Maoris are a strong race both physically and mentally. Revengeful and cruel to their enemies, they were passionate in love and ever fearless in war.

You’re as bad as Reka, Kate,” Hannah told her. “I swear, you’re becoming Maori yourself. Show a little Pakeha restraint.” “I’m Italian,” Kate complained. “That’s already halfway to Maori.

Many of the very ancient accounts of Polynesian peoples were much alike. This indicates that they were common to the Polynesians before they separated and spread to their various islands. The Polynesian people—the Hawaiians, Tahitians, Samoans, Tongans, Marquesans, and Maori, to name the major people groups—are very close “cousins.

The Maori legends say that ‘Io dwelt in the uppermost of 12 heavens and was served by angelic beings who also acted as messengers.10 Fornander said the Hawaiian legends relate that the triune God created three heavens, the earth to be their footstool (he ke‘ehina honua-a-Kane), and a host of angels or spirits (i kini akua) to minister to them.

The following are portions of a translated Maori sacred chant of creation compared to Genesis 1. “‘Io dwelt within the breathing space of immensity. The universe was in darkness, with water everywhere. There was no glimmer of dawn, no clearness, no light. And he began by saying these words, that he might cease remaining inactive, ‘Darkness, become a light-possessing darkness.’ And at once light appeared.”25 Genesis 1:2-3 says, “And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.

[He motions to what looks like a sharpened steel paddle at his side.] “Pouwhenua”—got it from a Maori brother who used to play for the All Blacks before the war. Bad motherfuckers, the Maori. That battle at One Tree Hill, five hundred of them versus half of reanimated Auckland.

Only Indigenous people are real Canadians, Kiwis, and Aussies, everybody else is an immigrant. Before you yell slurs at an immigrant of today, Start by heading back to Europe yourself.

I knew, the Maori rituals in his ways to find the Planet.

the Maori people of New Zealand have long practiced a type of tattooing known as ta moko, which is traditionally done with chisels.

Ngata Sir Apirana Turupa (1874–1950), New Zealand Maori leader and politician. As Minister for Native Affairs he devoted much time to Maori resettlement, seeking to preserve the characteristic elements of Maori life and culture.

Maori

We should always approach the future with our backs to it" Old Maori proverb

In the century following the Cook expedition, the most fertile lands of Australia and New Zealand were taken from their previous inhabitants by European settlers. The native population dropped by up to 90 per cent and the survivors were subjected to a harsh regime of racial oppression. For the Aborigines of Australia and the Maoris of New Zealand, the Cook expedition was the beginning of a catastrophe from which they have never fully recovered.

The goal of tattooing was never beauty. The goal was change. From the scarified Nubian priests of 2000 B.C., to the tattooed acolytes of the Cybele cult of ancient Rome, to the moko scars of the modern Maori, humans have tattooed themselves as a way of offering up their bodies in partial sacrifice, enduring the physical pain of embellishment and emerging changed beings. Despite the ominous admonitions of Leviticus 19:28, which forbade the marking of one’s flesh, tattoos had become a rite of passage shared by millions of people in the modern age—everyone from clean-cut teenagers to hard-core drug users to suburban housewives. The act of tattooing one’s skin was a transformative declaration of power, an announcement to the world: I am in control of my own flesh. The intoxicating feeling of control derived from physical transformation had addicted millions to flesh-altering practices . . . cosmetic surgery, body piercing, bodybuilding, and steroids . . . even bulimia and transgendering. The human spirit craves mastery over its carnal shell.

The Maori of New Zealand, for example, used to sleep communally in longhouses and still sleep this way at funerals to accompany a corpse on its journey from this world to the next.38 The Asabano of New Guinea never let a stranger sleep alone because of the dangers of nighttime witchcraft, and the Warlpiri of Central Australia sleep under the stars in rows whose order is determined by strict social rules.39 In

This is the last spear. It is the seed of Paikea and we must return it to the land.

Kaua e mate wheke, mate ururoa. (Don’t die like an octopus; die like a hammerhead shark. - Fight to the end.) ​— ​MAORI PROVERB

The natural world, I guess you’d call it—it’s not separate for Maori. It’s not ‘nature,’ or if it is, we belong in it, and it’s part of us. We’re all tied together. The ancestors, the family, the ones who’ll come after us. The land and the sky and the sea, and the creatures, too. All together, all part of the same world.

Yet when it comes to living abroad, there is an undeniable privilege in being a Black American, no matter one's family origins. A Black woman from Chicago who moved to New Zealand (and asked THE ROOT to use a pseudonym for her) spoke of being held up as a kind of 'model minority' compared to Indigenous Maori and African New Zealanders (many of whom had arrived as refugees), which protected her from the kinds of discrimination those groups experienced when trying to find jobs, places to live, and a sense of inclusion in the dominant culture.

By the time Lyall set foot on the shores of Stephens Island, almost a third of New Zealand’s unique species were already extinct due to Maori and European settlement, the habitats they destroyed, and the mammalian predators they brought with them.

cat came toward him, paced away, then returned. Its dark face was as fierce as a Maori. The fur on its spine was spiked like a Mohawk warrior. Pike

Y si Dios ha puesto ese matorral en el camino de Richard es solo para que vuele por encima de él, no para que se esconda detrás.

In Māori thinking, the past is before us because we can see it; we walk backwards into the future since we cannot look and see what it will bring.

After Lizzie restored the streambed to the way she had found it, she said a sincere prayer to the spirits of the stream. Perhaps that was not pleasing to God, but Lizzie felt the Maori gods had done more for her in the last few days than the Trinity had in the past thirty years.

ethnic groups, but to say that we don’t divide each other into races would be to ignore thousands of years of human history. Not to mention the fact that white people drive a car like this: Fig. 3 While black people drive a car like this: Fig. 4 Despite increasing globalization and intermarriage, or “miscegenation,” there are still distinct and important differences between members of the different races. Since the subtlety and scope of those differences are far too complicated to be helpful to us in everyday life, we employ certain heuristics, or “stereotypes,” to better understand and more comfortably interact with those different from ourselves. Like the Maori. Such stereotypes are sometimes controversial, because they can oversimplify the differences between individuals. Every person is different, and it is rare for someone to fit a stereotype perfectly. Except for so-called “walking stereotypes,” like Carson from Queer Eye.2. Others don’t have any of the characteristics ascribed to their race in such stereotypes. It’s an imperfect science at best. For example, just because the Maori are, in general, lazy, selfish, and long-winded, that does not mean that noted Maori opera singer Kiri Te Kanawa is any of those things. In fact, she is only two of them, because she is a soprano, and sopranos tend to be very succinct. Even so, stereotypes can be very useful in our everyday social interactions and decision-making. They are actually a kind of survival instinct—a crude form of received inductive reasoning that can help us make snap judgments in situations where we don’t have all the facts. When entering into a business deal with someone of Roma descent, for instance, I am very careful of my possessions. Knowing the stereotype that gypsies are tramps and thieves,3. I am able to better protect myself when coming into contact with them,

Everywhere they went, Charles applauded the connection between Australia and the British monarchy. But his verbal message was not as strong as Diana’s appeal. He publicly admitted that Diana was upstaging him: “I have come to the conclusion that it really would have been easier to have had two wives. Then they could cover both sides of the street and I could walk down the middle directing operations.” For some short walkabouts, they took William. The baby seemed to love the crowds. He showed his teeth, crawled, and stood on his own feet for a moment. At one point he stuck out his tongue at a Maori, a traditional Maori greeting.

The goal of tattooing was never beauty. The goal was change. From the scarified Nubian priests of 2000 B.C., to the tattooed acolytes of the Cybele cult of ancient Rome, to the moko scars of the modern Maori, humans have tattooed themselves as a way of offering up their bodies in partial sacrifice, enduring the physical pain of embellishment and emerging changed beings. Despite

crumpet. Fifty years later, Michener and the Yanks show up. Then come the travel hacks, who have to justify their fancy rooms and plane fare by telling us this shithole is paradise.” He stubbed out his cigarette. “Come to think of it, paradise probably is a shithole. The missionaries sold a pup with that one, too. At least I hope they did, because I’m certainly not headed there.” We motored back to our yacht mooring. In twenty-four hours we’d be flying off the island. As we walked out on the pier, our legs still vibrating from five hours in the fun car, I asked Roger if he planned to come with me to Cook’s next landfall. “To New Zealand? Good God, that’s a pup even the Frogs couldn’t sell me.” I told him that French explorers barely went to New Zealand, and the first who had gone there ended up being eaten by Maori. Roger laughed. “Frog legs?

My Easter smells are the cinnamon and mixed spices in the hot cross buns, and the rosemary and mint sauce with the roast lamb. The grassy tang of rhubarb and real muddy wet grass from the egg rolling. And of course, lots and lots of milk chocolate. My scents for Easter are: Angel by Thierry Mugler Anima Dulcis by Arquiste Musc Maori by Parfumerie Générale Blue North by Agonist Opium by Yves Saint Laurent English Pear & Freesia by Jo Malone London La Tulipe by Byredo

This idea of two distinct varieties of people (which quickly hardened into a Polynesian/Melanesian divide) turns what is, in fact, a spectrum of skin tones and peoples across the Pacific into a more or less binary division between black and white. With this binary came a tangle of other ideas about morality, intelligence, temperament, beauty, social and political complexity, even depth of time. Melanesians were routinely described by Europeans as not just dark-skinned, but “primitive” in their political, economic, and social structures. In eighteenth- and nineteenth-century accounts, they are depicted as small, dark, and mistrustful, the women “ill-favoured” and “ugly,” the men “despotic” and cruel. Banded together in small, autonomous groups, they appeared to Europeans to lack any form of law, government, or organized religion and compared unfavorably with their larger, fairer-skinned, more hierarchical neighbors the Polynesians, differing from them, in one unforgettable formulation, “as the wolf from the dog.” The term “Melanesian” had thus long served in European discourse as a marker for otherness and inferiority, and in the racially charged climate of the early twentieth century, Te Rangi Hiroa could hardly fail to be aware of this. When the anatomist J. H. Scott (the probable author of the Otago Medical School notice offering to buy Māori skeletons) asserted, “We know the Maoris to be . . . the result of the mingling of a Polynesian and a Melanesian strain,” or when Sullivan argued for a “Melanesian element” in his Tongan or Samoan data sets, Te Rangi Hiroa would certainly have recognized the subtext. And in his own early somatological studies, which were written explicitly with the work of these other men in mind, you can see him struggling with the problem.

So, I am writing down as much as I can about the Huguenots, the Jews, the Romans, the Irish, the Italians, the Indians, the West Indians, the gypsies. My own people too. Spivs and skinheads and mods and teds. Hippies and occultists. I have scribbled books containing the stories of coolies and lascars down on the docks. Native Americans in the Victorian Wild West shows, buried aboriginal cricketers in Hackney, accounts of Maori who somehow made their way to London’s docks from Aotearoa. Chinese Limehouse, opium smoke, ripper myths, the self-exiles hiding in Epping Forest.

The Maori mythology of the Haka is ancient Egyptian in origin for that it refers to the Sun god having two wives; the Summer and the Winter maids who obviously act as embodiments of the Solstices. And since the pivotal point in front of the Balance of Giza (i.e. The eastern alignment of Khafre's Pyramid) resembles this dance of war, the crucial movement of the Sun is from the Winter Solstice event upwards to that of the Summer's exactly as the chant's lyrics state and as the circular zodiac of Dendera shows.

As in Dogon and Maori cultures, the western Christian tradition inherited aspects of the Osirian religion and used triangular haloes for the Father (i.e. another rejuvenated articulation of the ancient Egyptian Ka) When he is represented by a hand emerging from a cloud. A vivid manifestation of this concept was designed by Gary Osborn which confirms my research in linking the Dogon and Maori symbols to the Great Pyramid.