under a tree

under a tree at midnight
we watch the pedestrian lights
chatter madly to themselves

it is autumn now
and dawn is farther away
than it used to be

o wind
if autumn comes
can winter be far behind?

the lie of Authority

for the cicadas

what then, are the sounds

of this city?

is it the gentle tap-tap-tap of a million keyboards

(writing shakespeare, no doubt)

or the deep bass rumble of the chimneys

in a thousand asian takeaways?

maybe the laughter that stumbles drunkenly out of the cafés

to swing, stagger and CRASH!

at our (suitably) jandal-ed feet

or the plainitive wail of a car alarm

being industriously ignored?

what then, are the sounds

of this city?

for the cicadas, at least here,

are dead.

[with thanks to taonga puoro, by brian flintoff]

of vaka, schools and spray cans

The Ports of Auckland have been responsible for managing my weekends of late, what with Round the Bays a coupla weeks ago, and the Onehunga Festival last Saturday. I thoroughly enjoyed both, though, and I’m not complaining at all. In between the excellent Jamaican jerk pork with festival and the very nice performance by Unknown Peace, the highlights were the three conversations I had.

The first was with Ian Calhaem, who was at the festival with a traditional Pukapukan ‘vaka-ama’, an outrigger canoe. The traditional carving knowledge represented in this vaka was dying out, till the canoe carving festivals that started in 2007(?) in Rarotonga, and in which Ian was involved. Considered a huge success, this carving festival is becoming an annual event, giving new life to traditional knowledge forms. The particular vaka Ian had brought was used in Pukapuka for fishing and general cargo. One part I found rather amazing were the stitches that join the wood together. These are completely watertight, and are made so by a combination of fine carving skills, and various applications of ash and whale oil. While this particular one had no sails, there are larger ones that do.

While I am no luddite, I think it is a pity that we lose so much of traditional (often oral) knowledge in our headlong full-pelt scramble for modernity. It is good that the Ian Calhaems of the world remind us of what we could well lose if we are not careful.

Ian would, with the support of a master carver from Ngati Whatua (the local Maori tribe), like to have a similar carving festival in Auckland. This would be open for people to participate in, and a brilliant way to revive interest in this knowledge. What is currently missing is a log (or multiple logs) to carve the waka from. I understand his particular interest is in reviving knowledge of Maori river and lagoon canoes. He says even pine would do- anyone with a log or two to spare?

The second conversation was with Simon Hertnon, who is part of a group of people trying to prevent the Auckland City Council from uprooting Monte Cecilia school for an extension to a park. What got me thinking (and rather riled) was when he spoke of how a Councillor said that the new addition would make Monte Cecilia park the “jewel in the crown that is Auckland’s parks”. I, for one, have had quite enough of jewels and crowns. While I understand that there is something to be said for running a city like one would a business, and am a fan of more public spaces, I think it is ridiculous to treat communities as if they were billboards to attract investment.

The third conversation was again for proposed changes, though of a much more appealing nature. Glen Armstrong, who owns/operates the Onehunga and Ellerslie branches of the House of Travel was asking for petitions to be signed in favour of more street art/murals in the Onehanga community. “More art and less tagging” seemed to be his catchline. His own store in Onehanga had a mural on the (outside) wall, featuring the work of K-road based artists Cut Collective. While I could not take a look at his store, I have seen a few of the collective's pieces around town, and really love what they do.

While the art world seems to have come to terms with spray can painting as art, I am not sure if our communities are quite as welcoming yet. I was glad to see that he had four pages of signatures by about half way through the festival. If you are part of the Onehunga community, do pass this on- it would be good to see an entire community business district covered in murals! Honestly, isn't is about time we brought art *out of the museums and art galleries onto the streets?

So then, POAL, what have you got planned next?

journeys

            “Heta tangin...saw saw a lang

             Sawta tangin...hei hi a lang”

   - Early Zo poem

Translated, “From here...that can be seen. From there...this can be seen”.

Story of my life.

Some of my earliest memories of Shillong involve wanting to come to New Zealand. I do not know why, as this was in the days before we had a TV, and definitely much much before we had the Internet. I knew little of Maori, and even less about the stunning landscape. One association I made with New Zealand was the tins that Apu had, that used to hold milk powder, but now held sugar, bought monthly in 5 kg bags from the Army rations stores. Turned out that these were from Australia. Over the years, bits and pieces I heard about this land fascinated me, from the news piece about bungy jumping, or watching the Maori haka, even finding out that Sir Ed Hillary was from here. In the years I lived with Apu, he spoke once or twice about wanting to go to New Zealand. Then there was the sinking of the Rainbow Warrior in Auckland, and the subsequent banning of all nuclear armed/powered vessels from New Zealand waters.

Interestingly enough, it was that last one that brought us here. When talk of studying/seeing the world came up, I had suggested Aotearoa New Zealand, but Dee thought it too far from home and family. One day though she saw a documentary on the banning of nuclear armed/powered vessels, and came home and told me we would be moving to Aotearoa New Zealand after all.

And what an adventure of the mind this has been. Scraping a little under the surface of Maori art, I’ve got more insight into my own tribal culture(s) than I’d have thought possible. I’ve been introduced to the whole world of Visual Culture, and think I may have finally found something that can keep me interested long enough to be able to get a degree in it. I’m dreaming of a chance to study the Visual Cultures of North East India in detail, particularly the Zo puan.

The fantastic libraries and the work with the RDA and a Special School have thrown up questions of access I had never thought of before. While I may not be able to contribute brilliantly to the world, surely I can help by helping provide access for people who might? I think back of the chap from Bihar who built a pirate radio station. He was obviously much smarter than the bureaucrats who shut him down. What could better access do to those of us impaired by a disabling society? I dream now of starting, not so much a library, but something that does what a library does- provide access.

The Lord of the Rings connections here are leading me down the trails of Myth and the creation of myths. First there was Tolkien and his Middle-Earth, created on the basis of Old English and Norse myths. Then were the movies based on the Lord of the Rings that have become as famous as the books, if not more. And now is another extension of that mythology being created- movie set tourism. Tourists are not visiting Matamata, they are visiting Hobitton. Not the Rangitata valley (Maori), or even Mount Sunday (European), but Edoras. And I cannot help but wonder: What myths have we lost? What myths are we creating?

And so it is, this far from home, that is what I see clearer. Just as this is what I saw when I was there.

Heta tangin...saw saw a lang

Sawta tanging...hei hi a lang

marty's whales/waitangi day musings

streetlights crumple
against a bright(ish)
auckland morning.

deep down in the silence
marty's whales are sounding
of
treaties made
of
treaties broken
of
the big(ish)
party on
at orakei

but i've turned
my back on the sea
my face to the hills-
this hill
littered with buildings
that snap at your heels
and leer as you pass...

and deep down in the silence,
marty's whales are sounding.


[NOTE:links for context- marty, whales, treaties, orakei, this hill]

christmas pigs, or the perils of inviting a poem-writer to lunch

what is it about

christmas and food?

the pig in the pot

of the

wild hills of home,

or the pig on a spit

of the

kiribati islands?

here we are civilised settled, though

and call it ham.

but with good friends

and laughter

(and potatoes on the side)

it is a feast;

and more,

it is christmas.

[thank you menaka, bruce and ashan for a feast fit for a north-easterner!]

did you know that horses can't vomit?

This is not a land of mysteries. Like most places in the world, this was discovered before Columbus set his grubby feet on what is now called America. Kupe was the first here, they say. Then came Abel Tasman and Cap’n Cook. And now every blessed inch is freely available to view and critique on Google Maps. But inside, what about inside? Has Google mapped that too?

For most of this year, I have been cleaning shit. Yes the S word. Faeces. First it was horse shit, then human. Explain? What is there to explain? I was at the RDA, then at a special school. Doesn’t that explain it all? But listen. I don’t want to talk about shit, I want to talk about travelling. I want to talk about discovery and fear and flying. The knot in the stomach, the bile in the mouth, the insane spinning of the skies. Have you ever jumped off a cliff?

This began, as all journeys seem to, with the jumping off a cliff, a quitting of jobs, a trusting of fate to the winds. And what a journey this has been. Did you know that horses can’t vomit? Not that I’m complaining, mind you. Or that just like the rest of us, the disabled need care, not pity? That there are at least 22 Pa sites in what is now called Hamilton? That the koru of the Punga tree is also known as bush asparagus. That pine needles can substitute for straw when laying down strawberry beds. That you can be poor and happy. That normal is just what you usually do. That op-shops don’t sell just second hand clothes, but a chance to get away from the waste and pollution of half arsed consumerism. That riding a horse could be as good as riding a motorbike. That people who give freely of their time and money and energy need not be on the Left. Or rich. Or even young. That a funny song can make a point better than an angry poem. That the Japanese government is yet to acknowledge the ‘comfort women’ from World War 2. And that if you wrestle lions in your sleep, you probably can beat most things when awake. Did you? I sure didn’t.

And now, 10 months later, it is almost time to go discover another place. While I am a huge fan of Pearly and Cédric’s epic cycle trip through south Asia, I cannot shake the feeling that they went too fast. While Tasman’s name for this land has stuck, it is Kupe’s and Cook’s tradition that I am interested in- they stayed put for a while. And as we prepare to move again, I must remind myself. To stay put. For a while.

But it all starts with jumping off a cliff.

the bottlebroke tree

bottlebroke has just gone international! (well, they always say that like it's a good thing). entered 'the bottlebroke tree' at this years trees at the meteor event. also saw some of the trees being prepared, and they are *brilliant! hope to see them when they are all ready.

the tree is an adaptation of the bottlebroke lamps, with the addition of discarded wood pallets and cycle tubes. it has been an exciting (and scary) time making this, as i have struggled with ideas, with techniques, with materials. and finally, i had to edit. in a funny way, the 'artist statement' helped me edit, and stop myself from putting in things that didn't add to the mix.

the bottlebroke tree is a meeting of urban inner city broke-as living, a number 8 wire mentality and a reduce-reuse-recycle ethic, dressed in the attitude and aesthetics of punk. hope does not grow in the gardens of the nice and pretty, it springs from the worm pits of despair. may you rage against the machine, this christmas and always.

i'm offering the piece for sale, to help raise money for the local group of amnesty international. any help much appreciated!

NOTE: much thanks to dee for helping with the pictures, the listing, and generally putting up with the grumpy artist-fartist at work!

christmas smells

this christmas has a different smell.

none of the pine quickened

charcoal fires

of a biting winter night

or the pork-and-mustard-leaf happiness

the stench of tribal feasting.

this christmas is lush

fed by a swollen river

and shaded by the broad leafed trees

of tane's mighty garden.

and try as i might

i cannot smell a feast.

note: tane is pronounced to rhyme with the 'ne' of the english word 'net'. tane is the maori god of the forests.

another grin!

got news that a few poems have been accepted for publication in a blackmail press ezine:

"blackmail press is a resource created to give poets, students and poetry lovers in New Zealand a site to read, submit and find great poetry. The impetus was to promote New Zealand poets and to provide an environment for emerging New Zealand poets to share their works."

rather kicked- i've been *really scared of submitting poetry to zines! i really like some of the poetry on, and am honoured to be a part of this!

grin.

sharnarthi

to my shame, it took a student film called sharnarthi for me to be aware of events that occured almost in my backyard. made by rituraj sapkota as part of an honours programme, sharnarthi deals with the issue of ethnic nepali bhutanese refugees in nepal, and then in aotearoa new zealand. bhutan is georaphically close to north east india, and i knew many people from that lovely country as a student. pity it has taken so long to hear about this!

the film, like watani habibi i wrote about earlier, struck me as remarkably lacking in anger, at least on the surface. there was a lot of laughter, situational as well as on-screen. i tend to be an angry person, and this tone of gentility first irritated (where were the protest slogans, dammit!) and then charmed me.

the primary question the filmmaker seemed to be asking is one i can relate to very well: where am i from? even though the refugees are ethnic nepali, they consider themselves bhutanese, and taught the children the bhutanese national anthem. some of them, like rituraj, moved to india, and as refugees recognised by the UN are being resettled in other countries including the US, canada, australia and aotearoa new zealand. as a geographically mixed-up person myself, i have some empathy for the questions of identity this raises. where does one belong? what does one call home? as one of those interviewed in the film says, he considers himself a bhutanese nepali, but does not have citizenship in either bhutan or nepal. what he does have in permanent residency in aotearoa new zealand, and as any migrant will attest, that is no less fraught. this was underscored by the comments of another interviewee, who pointed out that once a humanitarian solution (relocation to a third country) had been reached the world would no longer care about a political/ideal solution (return to bhutan).

i loved that the information pamphlet that went with the screening had a few questions the film-maker wanted the audience to respond to in the discussion time. here are my responses.

Q: Does the film bring out the problems and challenges faced by the Bhutanese Refugee community during and after their stay in the camps?

A: it does, if the primary challenges are those of identity and an ability to settle down to a 'normal' life. possibly the UNHCR and aid agencies are looking after the more 'material' needs.

Q: Does the film clarify the historical circumstances which rendered these people refugees?

A: no, it does not. in the discussion that followed the screening though, rituraj mentioned that looking into the causes and history of the displacement was not his intention. (then why have this question here?)

Q: Do you think the film works for a global audience, both eastern and western?

A: as a person in the audience pointed out, some of the english spoken on the film may have been helped by subtitles. as rituraj responded, though, it seemed a little rude to 'correct' the english when subtitling the interviews.

Q: Do you think the film works for the people of the community and presents their case?

A: i asked rituraj what he, as representative of his community, would have us do. he responded that his own response was to make the film, and that he would leave viewers to their own responses and actions. while i respect and appreciate this position, it highlights the fact that the film does not present a 'çase'. not that i am sure it should!

Q: Does the filmmaker treat, portray and represent the subjects of the film ethically?

A: i think so. it was pointed out by someone in the audience that most of those interviewed were men/boys, and rituraj admitted he felt more comfortable talking with men. while there were sexual attacks on women during the events leading up to the exile, he did not know how to discuss it, and deliberately left it alone. while the film may have gained perspective from the filmmaker's willingness to push himself out of a comfort zone, i can empathise with the ethics of keeping to areas he felt able to deal with.

and that brings me to my complaint against the film - a lack of depth. i felt that many of the interviewees hadn't managed to go beyond the immediate facination of being on camera. i don't know if this was due to techniques in shooting or editing, or even if it is unfair criticism. please remember, i am more opinionated git than film critic!

during the discussion, rituraj mentioned that the indian media largely ignored this issue of the bhutanese refugees, and that in south east asia, if the indian media ignored something, it pretty much got ignored internationally. if this is true, it increases our responsibility as bloggers to talk about things that cannot afford to be ignored. rituraj has suggested that he may try and turn this into a longer production, and i would be glad to watch that when it is done.

grin

most poets/artists live on appreciation and critique from friends and family, and i am deeply thankful to all the comments i have received. rather extra chuffed, though, to hear that amnesty international (aotearoa new zealand) has recognised one of my poems, 'in your language, not mine', and might be publishing it in their next mag.

much thanks to poets Tim Heath and Helen Tionisio who chose the poem, and actress Elizabeth McRae who read it out on courage day. special thanks to the subversifpoet who submitted the poem in the first place!

i feel particularly glad that this is not a prize that is *only literary, so to speak.

grin.

the river walk

i'll take the river walk
away
from the shops
or the street named after
a dead (once murderous) queen.

i'll take the river walk
past
ancient waka landings
and memories of other rivers
in other places i call home.

i'll take the river walk
home.

a bullet point history of recent maori art

This 'history' of recent Maori art is based on Damian Skinner's introduction to his PhD thesis, submitted to Victoria University of Wellington in 2005. While it is a pity to reduce a well researched piece to bullet points, this seems the best way to draw out the content as well as to illustrate the inadequacy of any summary. Much of the material in this thesis (and more) is available in 'the Carver and the Artist' by the same author.

Damian has divided the thesis into four chapters, each chapter covering a phase of Maori art.

MAORITANGA: Ta Apirana Ngata (1920s to 1940s)

CONTEXT
- massive land loss and rapid social and economic changes for the Maori tribes (Iwi/Hapu)
- in Ta Apirana's words:
a) emphasis on the continuing individuality of the Maori people
b) maintenance of such Maori characteristics and such features of Maori culture as present day circumstances permit
c) inculcation of pride in Maori history and traditions
d) retention so far as possible of old-time ceremonial
e) the continuous attempt to interpret the Maori point of view to the pakeha in power.

CHARACTERISTICS
- conservative renovation of customary culture
- drawing on Maori cultural traditions, while using modern functions and construction materials
- centered around the marae and the whare whakairo (carved meeting house)
- concentration on craftsmanship and preservation of traditional skills and techniques

Maoritanga: Hone Taiapa (1950s to 1960s)

CONTEXT
- continuation of Ta Apirana's philosophy

CHARACTERISTICS
- whakairo (carving) becomes an internalised template, and operates without reference to originality and innovation
- new economic formations (e.g the tourist market) and new patrons (e.g the Mormon church)
- artist (head carver) as supervisor, and art piece (carving) as team/communal work

KEY FIGURES*
- Hone Taiapa, Pine Taiapa, Henare Toka, Piri Poutapu

Maori Modernism (1950s to 1960s)

CONTEXT
- Maori artists emerging from Pakeha art schools
- Art educator Gordon Tovey's (National Supervisor Art and Culture) encouragement of experimentation in Maori Art
- Department of Education's patronage of Maori Modernists

CHARACTERISTICS
- Artistic practice that was "individual, innovative and original"
- intentional positioning as different from the art of Maoritanga
- oriented away from 'customary culture' audience, and towards a Pakeha/International discourse

KEY FIGURES*
Pratene Matchitt, Arnold Wilson, Buck Nin, Cliff Whiting, Katerina Mataira

Contemporary Maori Art (1970s to 1980s)

CONTEXT
- massive urbanisation of Maori in 50s and 60s
- Maori activist movements and increasing political consciousness among Maori

CHARACTERISTICS
- attempts to bridge the critical distance (with Maoritanga) that Maori Modernism sought to establish
- a return to the marae as cultural centre
- an appeal to continuity with cultural forms older than Maoritanga
- articulation of Maori art as a tradition of change

Part of my interest in Maori art stems from a need to understand my own practice as a 'tribal' from North East India, with all the questions each of those terms beg to ask. In that context, here are some of the ideas that stood out.

a) 'Tradition' is as fluid an idea as 'contemporary'. On the one hand, much of 'traditional' Maori art today goes back to the 1930s and Ta Apirana Ngata's Maoritanga. On the other hand, Katerina Mataira's 1984 essay appeals to a 'tradition of change' in Maori culture when speaking for the legitimacy of Contemporary Maori art. Question to self: Which of the many available traditions am I interested in? Does it matter?

b) While there are varying perspectives on tradition, there does seem to be a visual continuity in the motifs and images used, especially in sculpture. While I cannot substantiate this without detailed study, and the work of the Maori Modernist period may well have been influenced by western Primitivism, motifs such as the 'koru' and the three fingered image seem to hold 20th century maori art together. Question to self: Are there common motifs in North East India I can use? Should I?

c) There are different ways to negotiate conflict and change. Ta Apirana chose to standardise some aspects of tradition, while allowing modernity in others. The Modernists defined themselves in their break from Ta Apirana's Maoritanga, and the Contemporary artists seem to be trying to make peace with Maoritanga and Modernism. Each of these negotiations have elements of separation and assimilation from/with dominant Pakeha/European/International culture. Question to self: What do I want to separate from, and what do I want to assimilate with?

More questions than answers, really. Ah well, story of my life!


*This is NOT a comprehensive list of names associated with this period/movement.

two conversations

a few weeks ago we went to a movie screening at the hamilton disability pride film festival. i'd heard about it by chance, and almost missed a brilliant film! 'king gimp' tells the story of artist dan keplinger, who has cerebral palsy. the film is an honest documentary of 13+ years of dan's life. though the background music can get a little over powering, the movie is largely shot in an unsentimental matter-of-fact style. in fact dan quite effectually punctures one of the more emo scenes with some bitingly dark humour. dan managed to make it through school, and decided to go on to college to study art. in spite of rejection from some teachers, he makes it through, graduating to a standing ovation. more than just a record of daniel's struggle, the film also effectively speaks of how we can individually make a difference to the lives of others.

around the same time, i was reading 'growing up severely autistic-they call me gabriel' by kate rankin. written about her autistic son, this book gave me a kick-in-the-balls perspective on what it means to be the parent of a severely autistic child. again written with little sentimentality, it is a journal of life with gabriel and the sheer amounts of work it takes to bring up an autistic child, even with physical and financial support from the government. how do parents without that support cope?

all of which brings me to two conversations i had. the first was with a care-giver for an autistic child at the RDA. she mentioned that the child had never been visited by her parents after they gave her up to full time care, which was a few years ago. it quite upset me then, and still does, but after reading this book i think i can understand why some parents would be unable to cope. taking care of an autistic child has a social cost in addition to the already high financial and emotional costs. while some autisic children have special talents to 'make up' for their disability, most (like the rest of us) do not, and are stuck in an internal world that often doesn't make sense to the external one. like many autistic children in aotearoa NZ, gabriel eventually had to move to full time care in an institution set up for the purpose.

the second conversation(s) was with a lady from mumbai visiting family in hamilton, who was paralysed waist down after a gymnastic accident. JA was delighted at the chance to ride (with help) and only got off each day with the greatest reluctance. while she resolutely refused to complain, we spoke of how her sister had to carry her up three flights of stairs back home because the building they lived in didn't have a lift and how difficult it was for her to get around in her wheelchair- apparently even hospitals do not necessarily have disability access. she was working from home, as any trips outside were emotionally and physically fraught. in spite of all this, JA's spirit seemed unbeatable. she was always glad to ride, even when it was in the most extreme cold she had known. she was always ready for a trot and managed to push us, horse and sidewalkers, to do more and do better. i have had the most exercise in the weeks she was here. back in mumbai though, she will be confined to her third floor flat again.

while most of us are (rightly) horrified at the persecution of the disabled that the nazi party unleashed, i sometimes wonder if it is really very different now. we have tucked the disabled away out of sight. our lifestyles make little provision for their needs, and government policy often ignores them. even the human rights organisations seem to have forgotten them, rarely speaking out for disability rights! one of the senior teachers at a special needs school i have just joined pointed out two boys to me, and said that with their behavioural problems, they would have been in jail if they weren't in school. makes one wonder-how many disabled people actually are locked away in jails, institutions or homes? out of sight and out of mind?

watch some clips of 'king gimp' here, and read the first few pages of 'they call me gabriel' here.

witi ihimaera - like coming home!

They say (you know how 'they' are always saying things) that the joy of travel is in the finding of difference-the alien and the exotic. If you keep away from resorts and star hotels, that is. And I would, in the most, agree. There seems little point in going halfway round to world to find one self at home. There must, however, be something wrong with that thought, for it completely fails to to explain why Witi Ihimaera's stories have been so engrossing when they feel like a homecoming!

Ihimaera's stories revolve around Waituhi village, with occasional excursions into Wellington. The lines are fairly clear- Waituhi is Maori and Wellington is European, and many of the stories speak of the tension between he two cultures. While there is a sorrow at at a dying way of life, there is also a recognition that the new ways are very attractive. Ihimaera's stated claim, in the early stories, was to acquaint 'Urban' Maori with the old way of life and its values, and to help them understand their roots. This gradually moved to a more political stance, and sharper criticism of the effects of European colonisation and the struggles of Maori in the present.

What I found striking, though, is the constant feeling that these stories could so easily have been set in the North East India (an artificial unity I stubbornly cling to) that I grew up in. The experiences of the characters could as easily have been mine, from being a tribal in a world that didn't think much of tribals, to the struggle to succeed in a system one did not quite understand, even the easy laughter, sense of belonging and claustrophobia in a 'close-knit community'. It is strangely comforting to recognise characters in the book, from the dominating figure of the Matriarch to the kid torn between the old world and the new.

The setting and style of the stories beg comparison with R.K Narayan's Malgudi, though Ihimaera's writing is much more politically loaded, and much more accommodating of what has variously been called mystical, magical or superstition. They are however as pleasantly easy to read as Narayan, with none of the twisted complexity that afflicts a lot of literary writing today. One of the books has also been turned into a rather engrossing film. Very strongly recommended!

rough

this is the

rough

side of town

and we are

rough

with sharp edges

like the bits of bottles

that are sometimes

(roughly)

strewn on the footpath

and sparkle

when they catch the light.

this is the

rough

side of town

and we sleep

rough

under bridges

and hide our stash

(roughly)

in the lavender bushes

that smell of scented grandmothers

in long abandoned childhoods.

this is the

rough

side of town

but we have lavender bushes.

so there.

raglan

click here to read the original poem.

resistance maps

Maps have a subversive potential that is often ignored and overlooked. They have been used by rulers, whether kings or ‘elected’ governments to name and signify, telling us what places are called and why they are significant. There is a power in naming places, as those who fought for Bangalore to be called Bengaluru and those who call New Zealand by its Maori name- Aotearoa, can attest. It is never 'just' a name as the resistance to both changes shows!

While singularly unimpressed by Google Corporation’s dream of taking over the internet world, the potential of the maps application amazes me. Here is a chance to take back our world, so to speak, to name and signify in resistance to dominant forces, whether governmental, colonist, corporate or any other interests one would like to resist. The effectiveness of this resistance, however, is not so much in launching attack on the ‘enemy’, but in defending one’s position, maybe in helping one understand where one stands.

Much like the Maori Pa.

Maori Pa are earthenwork fortifications, sometimes with a wooden stockade on top. They were typically built in locations that overlooked possible attack points, and were known to be effective against the English settlers. The Pa was also used to store food and was a centre of learning and crafts. With the over running of Aotearoa New Zealand by the English, these Pa structures have mostly been lost, though the memory of their location remains.

While I knew two locations of Paa in Hamilton, it is thanks to an exhibition at the Waikato Museum that I can now see all the locations in the area. With thanks to Te Winika Gallery of the Waikato Museum and in response to this supressed history, here is another map.

View Hamilton Pa in a larger map

Update: Here is another intersting read on maps!