coming back
here, right?”
“No worries. I’ve already arranged for it to be collected.
I’ll drop you back at the airport for your flight.”
“You sure make everything easy for me.”
“That’s the idea, eh.”
Hannah smelled Rotorua before she saw it, the stench of
sulphur coming strongly through the closed truck windows. “Phew.” She covered
her nose. “How do people live here?”
“You get used to it,” Drew assured her. “Wait till tomorrow.
You’ll be surprised. You’ll barely notice it.”
As they drove through town, the ground literally seemed to
be steaming.
“Where’s it all coming from?” she marveled.
“The whole place is built over a geothermal area. Vents all
over the shop in Rotorua. Back gardens,” he pointed out. “Golf courses. You
have to be careful where you build, here.”
When he suggested that he take her to the museum, though,
she protested. “You don’t want to do that, though. There can’t be anything here
that’s new to you. Why don’t you go fishing or something, and let me tour the
museum by myself?”
“Because the point of this trip is for me to show you New
Zealand,” he said as patiently as he could. “Which I can’t very well do if I’m
out on the water, and you’re here by yourself.”
She was enthralled by the exhibits of Maori artifacts and
history in the excellent museum, converted from a Victorian-era bath house and
spa. She found herself moved and saddened by the film about the famous Maori
Battalion, the most decorated Allied unit in World War II, and with some of the
heaviest losses.
“It’s so sad,” she told Drew, when they were looking at the
war memorial outside the museum. “Some of these families lost two or three
sons. You can tell by the names.”
“It is. It’s a warrior culture, though. Nobody fiercer than
the Maori. I’ll show you more tonight, when I take you to the Maori concert.
You’ll see why they make such good rugby players. It’s more than just their
size and strength. Bit of a challenge for Pakeha like me to match them.”
That evening, he parked in a lot surrounded by paths in the
native bush, with a building in the distance. He spoke briefly into a cell
phone, then waited until they were met by a smiling man who shook hands and touched
his forehead and nose to Drew’s in the traditional greeting, then led them
around the side of a building to an outdoor stage, where Hannah could see a
group of people filing in.
“Are we late?” she asked Drew softly as they approached the
group.
“Nah, just skipping a bit of the preliminaries,” he told her
as they were seated in the front row in the dark.
The man bent down and spoke to Drew again, shrugging when
Drew shook his head. Finally, he shook Drew’s hand again and smiled at Hannah. “Enjoy
the show,” he told her. “We’ll make it special, eh.”
Hannah looked at Drew, still confused, then turned back to
the stage as the show began. She forgot about the encounter as the talented
performers enacted the traditional greeting ceremony, from the opening karangaof welcome , to the fierce challenge by a young warrior, finally
ending in a speech from the village’s chief. A demonstration of weapons
practice with clubs, sticks, and spears had her marveling at the group’s skills
and prowess, while the powerful harmonies and haunting melodies of the songs performed
by both men and women moved her almost to tears.
“The songs are so beautiful,” she whispered to Drew during
the applause.
“Thought you’d enjoy it. Wait till this last bit, though.”
The village’s chief was talking about the haka, and Hannah
remembered Drew telling her about the chant. She was unprepared for the
ferocity and power of the demonstration. Although she knew it was a
performance, and they did this every night, she found herself shrinking back
into her seat from the shouting, stamping, gesticulating warriors. For some
reason, they seemed to be directing their entire
here, right?”
“No worries. I’ve already arranged for it to be collected.
I’ll drop you back at the airport for your flight.”
“You sure make everything easy for me.”
“That’s the idea, eh.”
Hannah smelled Rotorua before she saw it, the stench of
sulphur coming strongly through the closed truck windows. “Phew.” She covered
her nose. “How do people live here?”
“You get used to it,” Drew assured her. “Wait till tomorrow.
You’ll be surprised. You’ll barely notice it.”
As they drove through town, the ground literally seemed to
be steaming.
“Where’s it all coming from?” she marveled.
“The whole place is built over a geothermal area. Vents all
over the shop in Rotorua. Back gardens,” he pointed out. “Golf courses. You
have to be careful where you build, here.”
When he suggested that he take her to the museum, though,
she protested. “You don’t want to do that, though. There can’t be anything here
that’s new to you. Why don’t you go fishing or something, and let me tour the
museum by myself?”
“Because the point of this trip is for me to show you New
Zealand,” he said as patiently as he could. “Which I can’t very well do if I’m
out on the water, and you’re here by yourself.”
She was enthralled by the exhibits of Maori artifacts and
history in the excellent museum, converted from a Victorian-era bath house and
spa. She found herself moved and saddened by the film about the famous Maori
Battalion, the most decorated Allied unit in World War II, and with some of the
heaviest losses.
“It’s so sad,” she told Drew, when they were looking at the
war memorial outside the museum. “Some of these families lost two or three
sons. You can tell by the names.”
“It is. It’s a warrior culture, though. Nobody fiercer than
the Maori. I’ll show you more tonight, when I take you to the Maori concert.
You’ll see why they make such good rugby players. It’s more than just their
size and strength. Bit of a challenge for Pakeha like me to match them.”
That evening, he parked in a lot surrounded by paths in the
native bush, with a building in the distance. He spoke briefly into a cell
phone, then waited until they were met by a smiling man who shook hands and touched
his forehead and nose to Drew’s in the traditional greeting, then led them
around the side of a building to an outdoor stage, where Hannah could see a
group of people filing in.
“Are we late?” she asked Drew softly as they approached the
group.
“Nah, just skipping a bit of the preliminaries,” he told her
as they were seated in the front row in the dark.
The man bent down and spoke to Drew again, shrugging when
Drew shook his head. Finally, he shook Drew’s hand again and smiled at Hannah. “Enjoy
the show,” he told her. “We’ll make it special, eh.”
Hannah looked at Drew, still confused, then turned back to
the stage as the show began. She forgot about the encounter as the talented
performers enacted the traditional greeting ceremony, from the opening karangaof welcome , to the fierce challenge by a young warrior, finally
ending in a speech from the village’s chief. A demonstration of weapons
practice with clubs, sticks, and spears had her marveling at the group’s skills
and prowess, while the powerful harmonies and haunting melodies of the songs performed
by both men and women moved her almost to tears.
“The songs are so beautiful,” she whispered to Drew during
the applause.
“Thought you’d enjoy it. Wait till this last bit, though.”
The village’s chief was talking about the haka, and Hannah
remembered Drew telling her about the chant. She was unprepared for the
ferocity and power of the demonstration. Although she knew it was a
performance, and they did this every night, she found herself shrinking back
into her seat from the shouting, stamping, gesticulating warriors. For some
reason, they seemed to be directing their entire
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