Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image

Humour and the Maori

na Alan Taylor

PUKA KATA

Up to the turn of the century the Maori, with his ready wit, shrewd observation and outrageously broken English, was the source of a great deal of good natured humour among back-country settlers. Mustering in the sale yards, down in the cow sheds or having a break in the woolshed - wherever a couple or more cow cockies or shearers were taking time off, one was sure to come up with the latest ‘Maori story’. Maybe it would be something simple like: MURU’S HORSE. ‘I got t’ erry fine horse, an I sell im cheap. He t’ werry good bleed’. Is he a pedigree horse Muru? ‘Oh, yeh; she te perikee allright’. Who is he by? ‘Eh?’ Who-is-he-by? ‘Who he py? Oh, he py his bloomin self out in te yard!’ All the jokes or stories were racial in the strictest sense of the word - but few reflected any real prejudices: they were told to amuse, nothing more. Here is NIGHT-TIME. A tourist said to an intelligent Maori woman: ‘How is it you Maori people are brown whereas you are so much like the Britisher in all other ways, Ngahuia?’ ‘Oh, I think that because te pakeha born in te daytime, and we Maori born in te nighttime’. ‘Well, well. And what about the partMaori’.

‘Oh, I tink he born in t’moonlight!’ Banal perhaps, but nonetheless curiously funny. Like TE QUICK WAY. ‘Hi! Brian, how far tou tink it up to M atamata?’ ‘Oh, I dunno, I tink you ride te bike - about tirty mile crow ride te bike, ’bout twenty mile!’ Most Maori jokes were short. However, some were quite involved stories. Among these: THE DEAD RACEHORSE. Ruatahuna, Rangi saw two pakeha standing and looking at a dead race horse in a paddock. Rangi went up and asked them what they would take for it. ‘He’s dead, Rangi. What’s the use of him now? ‘I gif you ten pound for him’. They laughed and said ‘All right’. Rangi went off to the pa and told the other Maori’s that he had bought the famous racehorse ‘Toto’ and would raffle him at a pound a ticket. One hundred and fifty pounds were

soon collected, and Hohepa won the raffle. ‘Well done’, said Rangi, ‘you get him pridle, and we go and catch it’. So off they went together. Rangi pretended to hunt about the paddock for him. At last he said to the winner: ‘Oh, I see him. He have te sleep under te tree. You go quiet an put te pridle on him’. Hohepa went up gingerly, then said: ‘Py korry, he’s dead!’ ‘No, no. He have a good sleep. He go werry fast an git tire!’ Rut it was no good bluffing any longer, so Rangi said: ‘Py cripes, he die werry quick. I sorry, Hohepa. I give you back the pound. No matter to’other fellers. They lost te raffle anyway/’ In a Native School Reader (1905) is

this short esay written by a highly imaginative, and confused, Maori boy: TE SHEPP. Spring time is the time in the every year when all the stuffs that animals and mens eat are g rowed on the farms. When the animals think that the stuffs is big enough to eat they has the baby animals. The cow he lay down and he have the calf and the shepp he lie down and he have the baby too. Sometimes the she shepp and sometimes the bull shepp, but the bull shepp he lay down and get up without anythink! And finally, a Maori boy was asked by his teacher what he would do if he saw a newfangled car crash into a tree and throw it’s driver bleeding to the ground. He answered: I’d order a coffin!

followers. Nor has it achieved widespread community consenus despite overwhelming support for the principle of Indian control over Indian education. Rather N’ungosuk has drawn its vitality from a intense number of dedicated persons (10-15) with a commitment to sustain a native language environment if the Ojibwa are to take control of their childrens’ education destiny.

The enrolment at N’ungosuk has averaged around 15-20 children between the ages of 2 and 5 over the past 5 years. The operation itself is conducted out of an apartment complex designed primarily for single mothers. The facilities appear to be more than adequate, consisting of two adjoining apartments with two kitchens and washrooms, ample space for children to play and sleep, and an office for administrative affairs. The complex is located some distance from the community centre, in the process ensuring a linguistically controlled environment for children within a natural setting.

Response expected

The children of N’ungosuk are divided into three groups depending on their skills and level of development. They are always spoken to in Ojibwa, and are expected to respond accordingly although there is no punishment if English is used on occasion. Ojibwa is employed exclusively not only as a subject of instruction, but also as the sole vehicle of verbal communication throughout the daily routine of supervised play and formal instruction. The results of this immersion appear to be impressive. Family and friends have expressed delight and amazement at the extent to which the preschoolers have acquired a familiarity with Ojibwa language and culture. Also noteworthy is the children’s enthusiasm in conveying this knowledge to anyone who shares an interest in their rediscovered skills.

The personnel within the N’ungosuk are comprised of paid staff (supervisors), volunteers, and (grand)parents. The paid staff is generally recruited from within the community in hopes of ensuring a degree of sensitivity toward those under their guardianship.

Unfortunately uncertainty over reliable funding has exerted a negative effect in attracting and maintaining highly qualified staff over an extended period of time. Relatives and friends are always welcome to contribute so as to provide a degree of continuity between home and the language centre. Especially welcome are the

elders within the community who frequently stop by and regale the children with tales of the past. Taken together, the parallels between the Kohanga Reo and N’ungosuk in terms of style and objectives should be obvious to anyone involved in the Maori language preschool movement.

Perils and Pitfalls in Aboriginal Language Preschooling

N’ungosuk ressembles the Kohanga Reo in many respects, not the least of which is its commitment to preserve a threatened language base through community-based involvement with linguistically impressionable children. But unlike the Kohanga Reo, the N’ungosuk has encountered numerous problems in attempting to consolidate itself as a legitimate expression of preschool education. Failure to achieve widespread support reflects a conflict of interests among factions within the community. Many Ojibwa parents are fearful that total preschool immersion may detract from the development of English speaking skills and result in the diminishment of a child’s career opportunities. Others prefer to conduct all preschooling within the framework of compensatory education.

Towards that end, they have recommended a realingment of N’ungosuk with the community’s more amply endowed day care facilities. Problems also exist at the provincial and federal levels. The government and various agencies such as the Department of Education and the Indian Affairs Department are certainly aware of the crisis in aboriginal languages. They have also proposed solutions in which aboriginal languages are relegated to the realm of academically learned subjects within the school curriculum. Thus, both the provincial and federal government seem reluctant to support any bilingual initiative such as the N’ungosuk, arguing it does not fit within any set funding guidelines, or contravenes the spirit of EnglishFrench bilingualism in Canada. Consistent with this parochialism is the refusal of government officials to recognize N’ungosuk as anything but an Ojibwa day care centre when, in actual fact, its priorities - Indian control over Indian education - are radically different.

Prospects: Politicizing the Aboriginal Language Issue

Canadian Native Indians are at the vanguard of 4th World movements to

enshrine the principle of aboriginal rights as the basis for power, equity, and justice. Issues related to selfgovernment, land, and treaty rights have tended to occupy the agenda in dealing with the federal government. Only recently have native Indians begun to show concern over the impending language loss. N’ungosuk is one of the few locally-controlled projects within Canada devoted entirely to the encouragement of aboriginal languages for those at the preschool level. But despite the potential inherent in such an experiment, it has not received the accolades one might expect. Nor does it even remotely come close to matching the success of the Kohanga Reo along any standard of measure.

Kohanga success

Comparisons suggest the success of the Kohanga lies in its dual ability to (a) politicize both the crisis in ‘te reo Maori’ and the emergent assertiveness of Maori nationalism (‘tangata whenua o aotearoa’), and (b) be politicized by influential Maori and Pakeha sectors for the achievement of broader political goals. A parallel situation does not appear to exist here. Yet this indifference can hardly continue much longer if aboriginal languages are to survive into the 21st century. Aboriginal languages constitute a unique and important resource whose longevity depends entirely on conditions in Canada - conditions that are largely within government power to control. To date the government has not transformed aborginal language retention into a national priority despite the obvious deterioration of this irreplaceable resource. But even with a national policy of support, the crisis in aboriginal languages will not be solved by orthodox language planning programs that ignore regional diversity and traditional approaches. Without in any way detracting from traditional approaches, what is required is the placement of children in environments where native languages can be permanently entrenched as a first language. Preschool aboriginal language immersion projects such as N’ungosuk represent one such strategy with potential to realize these ambitions for the betterment of all Canadians.

Reference list Hall, Anthony J. 1986 The N’ungosuk Project. A study in Aboriginal Language Renewal. An unpublished paper prepared for the Two Bears Cultural Survival Group. Shkilynk, Anastasia 1986 Aboriginal Language Policy Development. Unpublished Report presented to the Assembly of First Nations in Canada.

This article text was automatically generated and may include errors. View the full page to see article in its original form.
Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/TUTANG19870401.2.44

Bibliographic details

Tu Tangata, Issue 35, 1 April 1987, Page 39

Word Count
1,679

Humour and the Maori Tu Tangata, Issue 35, 1 April 1987, Page 39

Humour and the Maori Tu Tangata, Issue 35, 1 April 1987, Page 39

Log in or create a Papers Past website account

Use your Papers Past website account to correct newspaper text.

By creating and using this account you agree to our terms of use.

Log in with RealMe®

If you’ve used a RealMe login somewhere else, you can use it here too. If you don’t already have a username and password, just click Log in and you can choose to create one.


Log in again to continue your work

Your session has expired.

Log in again with RealMe®


Alert