On Thursday last week, West Harbour residents Yien Tang and Lisa Ngu made their first ever visit to a marae.
They weren't lost; the 42-year-old and 35-year-old respectively had just dropped the kids off at school and had heard their local marae - Te Piringatahi o te Maungaarongo - could administer vaccinations.
Keen to get their boosters, the pair were greeted by friendly marae staff before being ushered through to the vaccination area, where they were managed by clinical staff from Ngāti Whātua Ōrākei.
Neither had stepped foot on marae grounds before, but left with great appreciation of the respect and care they were afforded.
Similar experiences have been illuminating for those not accustomed to visiting a marae, which has been a hallmark of New Zealand's vaccine rollout, particularly in Auckland.
Manurewa Marae and Papakura Marae are strong examples - both have overseen tens of thousands of vaccinations, with many going into non-Māori arms.
Te Piringatahi o te Maungaarongo on Luckens Rd in West Harbour is among the latest to follow in their footsteps.
The marae, hailing from Ngāti Hine in the north, recently began offering Covid-19 vaccination and testing, alongside supplying ample food parcels.
After about two weeks, staff are seeing about 40-50 people coming through with the marae's tamariki and rangatahi spreading the word via a local leaflet drop.
But those at the marae have much bigger plans for how they could provide for local whānau, including aiding those in home isolation and offering medical/hauora services.
"Who better than your own people to do this sort of stuff ay?" marae trustee member Ipu Martin (Ngāti Hine) says.
"It's about keeping us all healthy and safe, and we've got to protect our babies, our kaumātua and kuia as well."
Marae and other Māori providers are often deemed the best method to engage Māori communities and have been commended for their efforts enticing those against vaccination to reconsider.
However, as Martin explains, their intention isn't to only support Māori, but anyone who needs it - in a fashion that adheres to marae tikanga (custom).
"It's not just for Māori, it's for ethnicities right across the board, for the community in this area.
"When [people] come here, they're getting more than just 'Here's your number', they're getting more - whanaungatanga I'd say, because of being on the marae."
Whanaungatanga, often hard to define in English, can be described as the connection and respect formed between people through shared experiences, often imparting a sense of belonging.
The driving force behind their mahi comes from the impact of Covid-19, but also lessons learned from years gone by.
For Martin, the pain caused by the Spanish Flu pandemic in the 1920s is keenly felt by those of Ngāti Hine, which reportedly lost as many as 6000 whānau.
Seeing similar pain in their community, marae leaders knew they needed to act.
"We could all see the statistics and it wasn't good, so this is a way we could help our community."
Already, Martin says she's noticed a dip in the prevalence of abuse in her community, which often spikes as whānau struggle.
Much of their services, particularly the food parcels, couldn't be done without incredible support from those within the marae to providers across the country.
But testing and vaccination are only the beginning.
Marae leaders are currently developing a programme to care for children of Covid-positive parents stuck in home isolation, ensuring their education isn't further disrupted by the virus.
That, together with musings of providing GP services on site, indicates just how integral Te Piringatahi o te Maungaarongo Marae is becoming to the West Auckland community, Māori and non-Māori alike.
"The community has already started seeing that it doesn't matter which rōpū (group) you're from, if it's to do with this kaupapa, everybody's for it," Martin says.