HAERE KI OKOUTOU TIPUNA

Te Ao Hou, September 1968, Page 2

HAERE KI OKOUTOU TIPUNA

o tō rātou mōhio. Te tikanga, hei rōia kē. ‘A koia hoki, kia kaha tō koutou mātau, me mutu tā koutou kōrero pēna mō tō koutou matua.’ ‘A, hei aha te riri; haere, māku koe e whakatikatika i roto i tō Sauna Bath, māku e whakarere tō wai i roto i te tāpu, kāore e wera rawa te wai. Unuhia ngō kākahu, nā ka haere ki te kaukau. Ka mutu tērā, ka haere tāua ki te tākuta ki te tiki pire mōu,’ Ko Ruiha tērā e rūpahu ana. ‘Ai, te hōhā tahi e Rui! E mea ana koe kāore kau ana aku mahi.’ Ka ō-ē taku whāmare. Ka kī mai a Rona, ‘Kāore koe nā e pīrangi ana kia rite tō whika ki a B.B.?’ ‘Ko wai a B.B?. ‘Kia kaha tō kūare! Kāore koe e rongo ana ki a Brigitte Bardot?’ Ko Rona tērā. ‘Ae, kua rongo atu ināianei; taku rongo i taua kōrero i mua ehara mō Brigitte Bardot!’ Kua tae ki te hāora hei hokinga mō taku whāmare, ka hoki ki Ākarana ki ā rātou mahi. Te haerenga o taku hoa ki te mahi, ka titiro whakatau tonu ahau ki taku taonga. Kua mutu aku mahi i te horoi i ngā kākahu paru, i te horoi i ngā oko o te parakuihi, i te whakapai i ngā moenga, i te tahi haere i ngā rūma. Kua wātea te whare ki ahau anō. Ka kaukau ahau i roto i taku whare kaukau. He aha rānei te ingoa Māori o tēnei taonga? Rite tonu tēnei mea ki ngā rākete i tukuna ki te marama. āhua wehi ana te tangata ki te piki ki roto—kei pahu. Hei aha te wehi. Kia kaha tonu te tangata kia rite ai te whika ki a B.B. ‘Ai, kia wera! Ka ngeto pea aku raiti i te mea nei. Aue, me ko tēnei te huarahi ka rite ai taku whika ki a B.B.—a, hei aha!’ Ka noho pēnei ahau, me aku ngako, kia mahana tonu ai ahau i ngā hōtoke. Ko ēnei aku whaaro me aku kōrero ki ahau anō, me taku titiro anō ki te karaka. Kia roa kia tae ai ki te hāwhe hāora. Kua pau te tekau mā rima meneti, kātahi ka rīngi mai te waea kōrero. Ko wai rā tērā tangata e rīngi mai ana i tēnei hāora. Hōhā ana hoki! Nā te mea e whakarite ana ahau i taku whika ki a B.B. ka rīngi mai tērā. Me pēwhea ahau e puta ai i waho o te whare nei? Ai, ka hemo pea au. Tēnā taku hē, mehe i tuku ahau i ngā kōtiro rā they should've been lawyers. ‘You don't say, how clever you all are, stop speaking about your father like that.’ ‘Oh stop growling; go, I'll help you arrange yourself in the Sauna Bath; I'll run the water for your bath, not too hot. Take your clothes off, then go and have a bath, after that we'll both go to the doctor to get some pills for you,’ said Ruiha. ‘Don't be a nuisance Rui. Do you think I haven't got any work to do.’ My family hummed and ha-ed. Then Rona said. ‘Don't you want to have a figure like B.B.?’ ‘Who's B.B.?’ ‘Gosh, you're ignorant! Haven't you heard of Brigitte Bardot?’ ‘Yes, I've heard it now; but the last time I heard that expression it wasn't for Brigitte Bardot.’ The hour for their departure arrived, they returned to Auckland and to their various jobs. When my husband left for work I couldn't keep my eyes off the gift my family had bought me. I'd finished my housework, washed the soiled clothing, washed the breakfast dishes, made the beds, swept the floors etc. I had the whole house to myself. I decided to have a bath in my whare kaukau,—or whatever the Maori name is for such a “thing”. This “thing” seems just like a rocket that's being sent to the moon. Rather frightening for a person to hop in—lest it blow up. Mustn't be afraid. Must be brave so that I can have a figure like B.B. ‘Gee, its hot! I think my lights will dim out, with the heat of this “thing”. Oh! well, if this is the only way to have a figure like B.B.—never mind!’ I'll stay like this, with all my fat, so that I can keep warm in the winter. These are the thoughts and things I said to myself as I kept glancing at the clock. What a long time before half an hour is up. Fifteen minutes had gone by, when the telephone rang. Who can be ringing at this hour. What a nuisance! Just because I'm trying to get a figure like B.B. someone decides to ring. How do you get out of this “thing”. Oh! I think I'll faint, that's the trouble with me, if I

kia ako mai i ahau ki te kaukau i roto i te whare kaukau nei, kāore au e pēnei ināianei. Rīngi tonu te waea kōrero. Heke ana te wera, kua mākū taku tinana i te kakawa. Ai, puru ana te hau. Rīngi tonu te waea kōrero. ‘Ai, taihoa! Pupuru ki ō hōiho! Kāore ahau e turi ana!’ Rīngi tonu te waea kōrero. Kua tae mai te pukuriri ki ahau. Kātahi ka tango mai taku whāmare i tēnei taonga; pai ake mehe i tango mai rātou i te taonga whakaatu. Ka maunu te whare rā, kua puta ki te ao mārama. Ka whakatikatika ahau i ahau, ka oma ahau me aku e rua rau e toru tekau mā waru pāuna e korikori haere ana, me te haruru haere hoki o aku wae. Tae atu ahau ki te waea kōrero, kua mutu te rīngi. Ka kōrero atu ahau, ‘Kia ora! Ko wai tēnei? Ko wai tēnei?’ Kāore e hamumu mai, kua whakairingia te whōno. Pīrangi ana ahau ki te kangakanga. Hoi anō te mahi, he haere ki te whakaoti i te kaukau. ‘Ai, kia mātao mai te wai!’ He aha rā te mahi o aku tamariki ki ahau? Ka kī mai me noho ahau i roto i te whare kauaku maoa ai, ka mutu ka noho i roto i te wai mātao kunawiri ai. Pai ake mehe i tango mai rātou i te taonga whakaatu kia pai taku whiri i aku wae i ngā pō, mātakitaki ai i a David Vincent. Hei aha hoki a Emma Peel. Nanakia, kua mōhio tonu ahau ki ngā ingoa o ngā Pākehā nei! E horoi ana ahau me aku whakaaro, ka pātōtō mai te tangata i te kūaha o muri o te whare. He aha rā te take o tērā tangata e haere mai ai i tēnei hāora o te rangi? Ka hikaka taku taora i ahau, kua kuhu au aku kākahu, ka heru aku huru, ka whakapai taku kanohi, ka kuhu aku pūtu, ka rere atu ahau ki te kūaha. Ka karanga atu au, ‘Haere mai ki roto.’ Taku tuwheratanga i te kūaha, ko te hau anake e pupuhi ana, kua kore noa atu te tangata. Kua pīrangi anō ahau ki te kangakanga. Ka kite ahau i te pāhara e tū ana. āhua toimaha tonu te pāhara; ka unu ahau i ngā pepa, ka kite ahau i te reta e takoto ana, e korekore noa iho ngā kupu. had permitted the girls to teach me how to use this “thing” properly I wouldn't be in this mess now. The telephone continued to ring. Perspiration began to run, and my body was all wet with perspiration. Oh, I was breathless. The telephone continued to ring. ‘Oh, wait on! Hold your horses! I'm not deaf!’ The telephone continued to ring. I began to get very frustrated. It would have been better if my family had bought a television instead of this “thing”. The zip and fasteners undone, I'm free, out into the world of life and light. I straightened myself and ran with my 238 pounds shaking in jelly fashion and the sound of my feet thundering along. Just as I reached the telephone it stopped ringing. I lifted the receiver and said, ‘Hello, who is it? Who's there?’ No reply. Whoever it was, had hung up. I felt like swearing. The only thing left to do was to complete my bath programme. ‘Gee, the water's cold!’ I wondered what my children were trying to do to me, first they tell me to sit in the Sauna Bath, and cook—after that, to sit in cold water, and freeze. It would have been nicer if they had bought a television so I can sit and cross my legs in the evenings and watch David Vincent. I'm not worried about Emma Peel. Not bad, I'm learning the names of the Pakeha! I was busily washing myself and thinking all these things, when someone knocked at the back door. What a time for someone to pay a visit. I hurriedly towelled myself, put on my clothes, combed my hair, made up my face, put on my slippers, and dashed to the door. I called, ‘Come inside.’ When I opened the door, I was met with a gust of wind, the impatient owner of the knock had disappeared. I felt like swearing again. That's when I saw the parcel. It was quite heavy. I removed the wrapping and saw the note with its brevity of information.

Mum, bathroom scales to go with the diet programme, and a photograph of B.B. Henare, Ruiha and Rona. Mōhio ana aku tamariki kāore ahau e tino mōhio ki te kōrero Pākehā, kātahi ka tuhituhi mai rātou i roto i te reo o tauiwi. Taku mōhio he weita tēnei, ko te whakahua tēnei o B.B. Ka tatū aku whakaaro me haere ahau ki te tākuta. Taku taenga atu ki te tākuta, ka pātai mai me he aha taku pīrangi. Ka kimi ahau i te ingoa tika mō ngā pire whakaitiiti iho i ahau, kāore au e kite. Ka kī atu au, ‘Ngā Pills’, ka wheni iho aku ringa i mua i taku puku i hiki haere nei au mō e whā tau. Tata ana ka taka mai ngā karu o te tākuta, kātahi ka pātai mai ki aku tau. He aha rā te take o te pātai? Ka weriweri ahau ki ahau anō i taku kāore whakarongo ki aku tamariki; pēnei, kua riro mā rātou ahau e hari mai ki te rata. Nā, kua kore ahau e mōhio he aha he kōrero māku. Ka tīmata anō te tākuta rā ki te kōrero. E kōrero ana mō ngā wāhine kāore e pīrangi ana ki te hapū pepe anō. He aha rā te take o te tākuta rā i kōrero ai mō ngā wāhine hapū? Kua mutu noa atu taku whiwhi pepe. Mehemea ka tika te haere o aku māhanga, o Henare rānei, kāore e roa ka whiwhi ahau i tētehi mokopuna māku. Ka kata atu ahau ki te tākuta, ka kī atu ahau, ‘A, goodbye!’ Ki a wai tērā, kua āhua mōhio noa iho ahau ki te reo Pākehā, ēngari kua whakamā ahau ināianei. Taku putanga ki waho ko te wahine o Moaho e tū ana. Ka kōrero atu ahau i taku haerenga ki te tākuta. Ka kī mai te wahine rā, ‘Haere mai, māku koe e hari.’ Ka haere māua ki roto anō i te whare o te tākuta, ka kōrero atu te wahine rā ki te tākuta mō aku pire. Ka kata mai te tākuta, ka oti pai taku hiahia. ētehi rangi, ka koma rawa taku kai ka piki aku pāuna, ā, ka āta haere te kai. ētehi rangi, ka pēnei ahau, hei aha tēnei mahi, ka whakaaro anō ahau ki a B.B., ki tana whakaahua hoki—te kaha ātaahua o tērā wahine—ā, ka hoki anō ahau ki te mahi i ahau kia itiiti iho. Ka kite au i ētehi whakaahua o Sophia Loren, pēnei i a Brigitte Bardot, ko tētehi ‘Mum, bathroom scales to go with the diet programme and a photograph of B.B. Henare, Ruiha and Rona. My family know that I cannot read English very well and yet they write in the “Whiteman's” language. I think this is a scale for reading your weight, and this is a photograph of B.B. I had made up my mind to go to the doctor. When I arrived, he asked me what I wanted. I tried in vain to think of the name of the slimming pills. I said, ‘The Pills’, and began to brush my hands down the pot tummy I had carried around for years. The doctor's eyes nearly popped out, then he asked me how old I was. What on earth was he asking my age for? I was annoyed with myself for not listening and taking my offspring's advice; had I done so, they would have seen me through this ordeal. Now, I was at a loss for words. The doctor began to speak again. He was talking about women who did not want to become pregnant again, prevention, tablets, contraceptives. Why should he lecture me about pregnant women I don't know, since I'd long since stopped having children. If all goes well with the twins or Henare I will probably have grandchildren before long. I smiled at the doctor, and said, ‘Ah, goodbye!’ That wasn't a bad effort, I'm slowly learning the English language but now I am overcome with shyness. When I emerged from the surgery, Mrs Moaho was standing there and I told her about my embarrassing encounter with the doctor. Obligingly, she said, ‘Come, I'll take you.’ We both entered the surgery and my neighbour related my wishes to the doctor. He smiled, and my mission was successfully completed. Some days I over-eat and the weight mounts up, so I eat less food. Other days, I say to myself, this dieting is useless, then I think of B.B. and her photograph—such a beautiful woman—wistfully I return to my diet programme. I came across a photograph of Sophia Loren, who is a film star like Brigitte

wahine nō Hariwahia, pēwhea rānei te whakamāori o Hollywood. Tūturu ātaahua ēnei wāhine. Kua tata te pau o te whā marama, ko ahau e whawhai ana kia itiiti iho ahau. (ētehi rangi,) kua wareware ki ngā pire, ētehi rangi kua tāpara te kai o ngā pire. Kua tūtaki aku karu i roto i te whare kaukau, kua wareware ki te tāima, ka roa rawa taku noho i roto, rite tonu aku waewae ki te kōura, kua pūwhero. ā, ka pai taku whakaaro ki ahau anō, ēngari ahakoa taku kai tika i ngā pire, kāore e rite taku whika ki a B.B. ki a S.L. rānei, he aha atu, mā wai … Ko tērā ahau e ngangare ana i taku whāmare, ai, kia kaha te pōrangi, a muri ake o tēnei ka whakaaro tuarua anō ahau i mua i taku hāmama ki a rātou. Kua titiro tonu taku hoa ki ahau. Kua kore e ngaro atu i te tekau karaka nuku atu rānei. Kua hoki mai i muri o te mahi, kua tango te taonga whakaatu, kia pai ai tana noho ki te kāenga. Ahaha! Kua whiwhi mātou i te taonga whakaatu, kua pai haere taku whika. Kua kore e pau ngā moni ki te pia, kua pau kē ki te tango raihana, ki te utu haere i te nama o te taonga whakaatu i ngā marama o roto i te rua tau. Kua kore e whakaaro taku hoa ki te aha, kua kore e kōrero, kua rapa tonu ngā karu ki tana pouaka. Ka pēnei ahau, ‘Pai ake me i tango mai koe i te motokā’ me aku whakaaro ki ahau e rere haere ana i runga i te “Mini Minor”. Tata rānei i tana rongo ki tētehi kōrero, tū tonu ngā taringa, ka kī mai, ‘E mea ana koe ko Horiaka ahau?’, me ōna whakaaro ki tana moni utu mahi i te itiiti. ‘Aia, kua mōhio noa atu ahau ehara koe i a Horioka.’ ‘Hei aha te kōrero e kare, haere mai ki konei; e noho ki taku taha, kia mātakitaki ai tāua i a ‘ “Hori me te Ngārara”.’ Bardot, in Hariwahia, or whatever the Maori name is for Hollywood. Truly beautiful women. Four months have passed and I am still struggling with my diet programme. Some days I forget to take my pills, other days I double up. I close my eyes in the Sauna Bath and thus forget the time and I overstay my bath-time and my legs are red as crayfish. I begin to feel better, but even though I take my pills properly my figure is still not like B.B. or S.L., oh well, never mind … There I was growling at my family. Oh! how silly, after this I'll think twice before I start yelling at them. During this period my husband kept glancing at me. No more 10 o'clock closing or later for him. He started coming home directly after work, and bought a T.V. to provide entertainment in the evenings and enjoy his stay at home. Alas! Now that we had television my figure was beginning to slim down. The money was no longer spent on beer, instead it was used for the T.V. licence and in keeping up the regular instalments, for the next couple of years. My husband was no longer interested in anything, he was unsociable, did not talk, his eyes seemed glued to his ‘box’. I said, ‘Would've been better if you'd bought a car,’ with visions of me running around in a “Mini Minor”. For a wonder he heard, his ears pricked up immediately, and he said, ‘Do you think I'm Holyoake?’ referring to his just-enough-to-get-by wages. ‘Humph! I've known for years that you're not Holyoake.’ ‘Never mind talking dear, come on over here, sit by my side, and together we can watch “George and the Dragon”.‘