Cultural death by apathy

As I sensed the Mayor’s song coming to an end I started to feel extremely nervous and just had to break with tradition as I sought counsel of the Maori Elder off to my right. I asked him if I was required, as the next in line in the seating order, to speak and sing.

To my relief he said that they would allow me time to get to my feet but if I chose not to take up the offer the next person in line would simply rise and step to the side and begin their address.

As the debonair Mayor took his seat I felt an uneasy nauseous feeling engulf me but discomfort soon turned to relief when the next elder in line eventually rose to speak.

The one thing I did manage to observe during the speeches in Maori was the identities of the elders and dignitaries who were being acknowledged by speakers in their introductory remarks. However there was one dignitary whose name was constantly being recognised but I couldn’t quite make out who it was as the person in question occupied a seat with the women at the back of the room.

I discovered later that it was the striking lady, splendidly attired with an unmistakeable facial tattoo (moko) on her chin, whom I met in the car park - Judge Caren Fox of the Gisborne Maori Land Court - who appeared not to be unperturbed by the seating arrangement.

When the cultural ceremony concluded we were ushered into an adjoining building to a banquet - once again served by women who took great pride in their service to the Marae’s formalities - before the evening came to an end.

The following day at a much longer Powhiri (traditional Maori welcome) for the public at the Wairoa Taihoa Marae, to officially open the film festival, we got to enjoy cultural exchanges with many of the same elders and a larger spread of youth.

To my amazement the youth also sat attentively listening and singing in Maori, when the occasion arose, throughout the long formalities. I don’t think that would happen so readily with Indigenous youth where I come from.

On this day I took advantage of an opportunity to speak to Judge Caren and her associate Marise Lant from the Maori Land Court who informed me of their work. Judge Caren told she had learnt a lot from her time visiting the Redfern Legal Service in the 1980s, when she worked for the Maori legal service.

Being aware of the demand on Judge Caren by others wanting to chat, I asked her a question I’m sure she’s fielded many times before: why did you get a moko?

Judge Caren informed me assertively that she only got her moko - a facial tattoo on her chin which represents markings from her tribe - a couple of years ago and felt she could do so in her capacity as a senior judicial figure. She said she felt comfortable in the knowledge that she had served five years on the bench before hand and knew the public wouldn’t view it as a publicity stunt.

On the same day, Rhonda and I were honoured to receive the award of Best International Indigenous Short Documentary for Nigger Lovers. Although we received prestigious awards in Australia; EnhanceTV ATOM and Inside Film awards in Melbourne and the Gold Coast respectively, this award was very special to us as it represented an acceptance by other Indigenous film makers of our contribution to the field of documentary making.