GUEST BLOG: Ruby – Apply the nana knit principle

I stayed in a place recently for a rest. It was beautiful peaceful and idilic, out in the country with animals and greenery it was almost the best of NZ, almost.

The one thing that kept catching my eye like the upturned edge of an otherwise perfectly placed Picasso was the smattering of unexplained and seemingly unvalued use of Maori Symbols and words.

As the days went by in a earthy haze I kept coming back to this it interrupted my zen decentered my chi or whatever I can’t explain it but let’s just say in this place it felt like the equivalent of a waste paper basket in the wrong corner of a feng Sui hotel.

Eventually I asked the staff about this what I now thought to be “tokenism”. I was reassured that the name of the place which was Maori was a gifted to the place on their opening by a prominent kaumatua in the area and therefore rightfully theirs to use.

I thought on this for a while almost satisfied with the answer, almost. A gift I thought well you can’t argue with that it hasn’t been adopted in a funding bid or PC attempt known to some as cultural misappropriation and to others more bluntly as theft.

So they hadn’t nicked it so why did it still bug me so much. Perhaps it was the white washing of my brain that had me stumped for so long going round in western descriptions of giving as a selfless act based on early Christian ideas about denial. Inside of these understandings of gifts there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with the scenario so why then did I feel abit icky just outside of my intellect.

On day three Still perturbed and not having attained the superior enlightened state I had hoped for I sought out a staff member who is Maori speaks and understands Te reo and is a wealth of wisdom unlocked only in long conversations littered with examples and stories as to never give just information but rather to provide alongside the context that made it knowledge.

That’s what I had decided I needed and lacked, I had the information but without the context it was not a knowing but rather still a quandary to me.

As we talked he patiently explained the difference in understandings of the concept of giving in pakeha and Maori culture and I began to see how a concept that can’t be fully translated as a single English word can detract from what is complex and sacred beyond our limited western understanding.

The gifting of the name he said was not like a birthday present and was probably translated better as a bestowing of a name. Bestowing unlike gifting does include responsibility or expectation on the receiver this “gift” had strings and perhaps it was these unseen strings that had me wound up in knots.

He said the name was bestowed as a blessing an endorsement and a directive for the place, its meaning a blessing to be honoured in word and deed so it could then honour all who passed through that place.

Fascinated I asked him how one might honour this bestowing in word and deed as a staff member and therefore recipient of this gift/blessing etc.

He said I would know if it was honoured by asking the staff what it meant and how they acted out its meaning in their interactions with guests and their day to day running of the place.

He looked kind of sad then and walked off to tend the vegetable patch he’d put in. I felt bad for him as much as it annoyed me he must find it so much harder to see the disregard for the culture he carries so close to his heart and central to his understanding of the world.

So I waited till some senior staff were about and looking over at my helpful friend I asked the room loudly what they knew about the name of the place and how it was reflected in their work and lives.
The awkward silence was filled seconds later with a flurry of justifications and the repeated story of the gift.

So I asked to room again equally interested to see if anyone would promote the lone Maori staff members knowledge of his culture above their rank in the hierarchy and divert the question to him.
But no the senior European staff members continued to blunder their way thru PC quotations spewing out random and inapplicable Te reo in a bid to assert their cultural awareness and eventually muttering down to silence as one of them suggested googling the meaning. After a bad half translation from Google the conversation ended with a lot of “ahh I knew that” “yes that’s what I thought” and a bunch of white nodding all round.

But the only head I felt bend under the weight of this awkward and disrespectful shambles so far from any display of honour I knew of was that of my Maori friend and staff member as he bowed forward and once again excused himself to be in the garden.

This story doesn’t have a happy ending although the beans my friend was tending and the cigarette that followed seemed as salve to the freshly opened wound I’d just shaken salt on for him.

It doesn’t really even have an ending as this story plays out every day in places filled with the best of intentions. If you or your service or workplace have a smattering of Maori words and symbols as

I hope you do please try to honour this blessing to us by viewing it as a bestowal rather than a no strings gift. Know what the words mean and how they relate to you or your service, work, life ect.

To put it in the most English way I can think of people apply the nana Christmas jumper principle.

You know when your nan gives you something hideous for Christmas and you make sure you keep it stored away to wear at her house later just to see her wrinkly smile? This is honouring of your nan, a well known European custom of orange knit clad youngsters itching their way through Christmas dinner in a jumper that doesn’t quite fit to honour a gift that has strings of love you wish to reciprocate.

So if you got through 12 Itchy Christmases’ in too bright jumpers feeling a little uncomfortable and embarrassed about your sudden likeness to David Bain then you can get thru the time it takes to research and honour the Maori culture that is gifted but better explained as bestowed on us and the places we live and work.

Ruby is 24 years old, sex worker and social activist. Lives in Auckland