When I pulled up in front of Ngamatapouri School last Thursday I was met with half a dozen boys standing around before school. They were chewing the fat the way boys do in expectation that they will soon be men. The topic for the day was stock whips. There were at least three or four experts in the group and the valley echoed the reports of their whip cracking around the folds of the back country.
When all the kids were inside, there were 16 pairs of Red Band gumboots, in descending order, by the front door and everyone was ready for work. Then we chewed the fat, or at least we cross-examined each other.
They told me that when they weren't in school they were either riding ponies, building huts, eeling, hunting, on the farm or in the river. Not a single word about television or an Xbox.
I then tried to explain how my world as a Member of Parliament could possibly be relevant to their way of life. I'm not sure that I was all that convincing.
On a previous visit, when the children had been studying Parliament as part of a social studies unit, the students grilled me with their carefully crafted questions. One, from a 5-year-old, was: "Does he get mud on his gumboots when he goes pig huntin'?" I'm not sure he was impressed.