“I see it and feel it,” said Mike Leuluai a graduating student of Kura Whakairo - Te Pou Taurahere, the longstanding carving course run by Te Kōhao Health in Kirikiriroa.
Master carver, Matua Raymond (Rei) Mihaere (Ngāitai, Whakatohea, Te Whānau a Apanui, Ngāti Porou) has been teaching during school holidays since 2010. Eight years later he was joined by Hakopa Palmer, then in 2019 by Matua Pene Campbell, followed by Steve Rankin and Wiremu Tonga in 2021.
The carvers are known for taking a group of shy strangers on day one, some coming from as far away as Tauranga Moana, into the world of whakairo, māturanga Māori and tikanga to achieve the miraculous only one week later.
Signs of the evolution from immersion in te ao Māori came thick and fast over the microphone as each student came up to the lectern to say their pepeha, explain the meaning behind what they’d carved and who they were gifting it to.
Matua Pene Campbell (Ngāti Maniapoto), one of the kaumātua dedicated to teaching the craft to the next generation, shared stories of whakamana within the rōpū, like Ihaka Herewini Whare’s tentative beginnings.
“He arrived on Monday with his head down in the car with his mum. We asked him to continue. The reason he didn’t want to stay was because he didn’t know his pepeha. We encouraged him to start learning,” he said.
Within 24 hours after connecting with the kaupapa within a safe space there was a noticeable unfolding among the tauira.
“On Tuesday he [could] kōrero his ingoa - his name, the next day he came with his name, his maunga and the next, his name, his maunga and his awa. Just to see that progression, so we are really grateful that he stayed.”
As each rangatahi and Leuluai, the only adult on the course, came up to receive their blessed patu, emotions ran deep and were palpable from the whānau who packed out the auditorium to tautoko.
There were beaming smiles, tears of joy, melodic waiata, loud karanga, chest-thumping haka and even a passionately protective wero by a fiesty māmā dealing with the Crown.
The audience mirrored the intergenerational nature of the wānanga and rōpū. There were babies in prams with their kuia, koro supporting moko, siblings galore giggling in seats through to a beaming uncle, a previous graduate of the wānanga there to support his nephew.
Satriani Pakira Elijah Tisch Watene, 11, was “nervous but happy as well”.
His reo Māori before the packed auditorium was as fluid as the lines he’d carved. Lifting his taonga, he traced the lines tilting each side of the patu showing those representing his uncle and big sister.
It was a treasured gift he handed to his pāpā: “He supported me the whole way through,” he said as they hugged.
It was clear that nuggets of wisdom from the kaumātua had been carved into the memories of their young students too.
Jaadaci Davis whose māmā found out about the course, remembered one of the first lessons from Matua Rei. “Don’t drop the patu and the mullet.”
Originally reticent, Ihaka Herewini Whare loved bonding with the bros. “Learning the kaupapa and learning new things was really amazing,” he said.
Listening to pepeha and the presentation of each patu revealed the reach, social value and powerful collective impact of the kaupapa.
Ruaumoko Ngākau Makiri-Hanara, 14, admitted to at first “feeling shy” at the start given the challenge of carving for the very first time in his life.
“Working with the wood was pretty hard. I’ve carved a present for my family. My mum and my step mum are here.”
Pene wore several pōtae on the day – kaumātua, kaiako and koro. Yet he was quick to point out there was no favouritism.
“My moko, Joshua - my pounamu, comes from quite a few carvers. His dad carves. Hopefully it’s ignited something in him. He hasn’t had privilege. They’ve all been treated the same.”
Joshua Tepuhi Tapiata reflected on the “mean experience that’s brought so many people together”. His key takeaway was, “be respectful to the taonga”.
Former student from 2020, Tainui Rehua came to support his nephew, Jaadaci.
“It was definitely kind of a beginning place for me. I came from a troubled background and rough upbringing. After coming from this programme, I can definitely say that I have grown a lot more since then. I’ve also gone on to study at Te Wānanga o Aotearoa and completed level three and four in te reo Māori.
“I’ll give this place credit for that growth into te ao Māori. It was definitely a kakanō for me. I did grow up in kohanga and te kura Māori, but time went by and I fell off growing up in South Auckland. To get back into te ao Māori was awesome,” he said.
Leuluai, the last of the rōpū to stand on stage, acknowledged the “loving and skilful kaumātua”.
“The boys approached it with hesitancy, they didn’t have much confidence and some of them didn’t say boo,” he said.
“Matua Rei said, ‘we’ll see’. After a couple of days what I saw was amazing. So, boys, remember that piece of wood – in the beginning it was nothing. You can create something with your lives, just like you carved your patu last week.”