Munroe Smith

Transcription

My name is Takaputai Mete Walker. My hapu is Ngati Rakaipaaka, and my iwi is Ngati Kahungunu. This prayer was used to clear the way into the start of a new venture, but master carver Hone Taiapa's teachings that he passed on to Takaputai Walker were different. He told me that we should only retain the good parts of our customs. When it came to meal times, he'd turn our carvings over, place our food on top, and then we'd eat. But when Piri Poutapu arrived, we stopped that kind of thing. He held fast to the traditions of the art of carving. We had a lot of respect for him. He was a master, a true master. He built houses, carved houses, as well as war canoes. I didn't really want to be bound by the sacredness of our customs. My beliefs are only in the sacredness of God, and if all of our Maori people observed that, then we'd be better for it. But some of our old traditions - I was never in favour of the occult and casting of evil spells. I never believed in those things. But if people choose to follow that path, then that's their choice. I was born in Nuhaka, at home. My mother never went to hospital. My mother is Tira, Tirahaere Horomona. My father was Willie Walker. My parents. This is my firstborn, William Parker. This is my second son, Peehi. My third son, Takaputai. That one is Garry Errol. This is Robert William. These are my daughters; this is Isabelle Lillian and Hana. Rawinia and Evelyn. This is Venus, and Rachel is behind Kararaina - that's Kararaina there. I was adopted out as a child, so I have adoptive parents. They were the Smiths. Sonny Munroe Smith and Raihara Lewis. They were my adoptive parents. I was 2 years old when I was adopted out, still a baby. My mother cried when I was given away to my adopted parents. I was 15 when my adoptive mother passed away. My adoptive father died when I was about 16 or 17. We weren't allowed to speak Maori back then. We were told to only speak English. But we weren't disciplined if we did speak Maori. We were only instructed to speak English. My parents always spoke to me in Maori, and sometimes I'd reply in English. I recall occasions when my parents got annoyed. My adoptive mother would say she'd whip my legs with a stick, that kind of thing. We all travelled to school together by bus. I knew who they were; I just didn't know them properly. But my adoptive parents told me they were my siblings. My aunt and her husband came to visit one day, and they asked my adoptive father if I could go to Gisborne with them to chop manuka trees. He agreed, so I went with several of my relations to cut scrub for an European farmer. We then went to Wellington to find work. I had two older brothers living in Trentham, so that's where we went. We found work with the Ministry of Works, digging holes along the roads. The pay was good. It was much better than milking cows. Later, the department directed me to become an operator driving bulldozers, a D8. We didn't have licences back then. We were too young. But me and my relation Ted drove all of the machines. Unlicensed operators, we were. That's where I first met Te Ao Peehi. When I finished there, so did Te Ao Peehi. There were about four of us who moved to Hastings. We stayed in a hotel in Waipawa for the night. Our mate Te Ao Peehi was our leader, 'Percy Kara'. I was in town being a mischief when the bus from Hastings to Wellington arrived and stopped at Waipawa. These people hopped off the bus. They were the Waereas from Nuhaka, Mina Waerea. I asked her, 'Who's your friend? 'She's beautiful! 'Go and see if I can take her to the movies. The Europeans call it a date. So we went to the movies, and my date didn't drink alcohol, nor did she smoke. So I did all the smoking and drinking for us. We courted for about three to four months, then she became pregnant. So I suggested that we should get married, and we did. We got married at Te Hauke. We got married there. Just on the other side of those trees was the building. It's no longer standing. It probably fell to ruins. Another church was built just on the other side of the houses over yonder. At the time I was working for a building company, plastering. While there, I was asked to go to Tuhikaramea on a mission for two years. My first job there was to plaster inside the temple. About three years, around 1961, Hone Taiapa was commissioned to oversee our carving of a meeting house for Hawai'i. I was so honoured to have met him. A true master carver. He was very knowledgeable, and his skills were impeccable. A very humble person who knew a lot. Hone didn't want to teach beginners. He preferred people who were already experienced carvers. It was the leaders of the church who said for him to take me under his wing. When we started, there were six of us. Then Tuti Tukaokoa came, followed by Hemi Ruru, and then came Piri Poutapu. So there were nine of us in the end. These designs are called the teeth of the Taniwha. Other tribes liken this to the ridge on a dog's back. And these here are called haehae. They're cuts. We worked for two years. Some of us carved on Saturdays, but we weren't allowed to work on Sundays. We'd get growled at. Then we returned from Tuhikaramea to the Hawke's Bay. The meeting house in Omahu, Kahukuranui - Hone Taiapa was asked by the elders to complete the carvings. They didn't know I was there. But Hone told them about me and said that I could carve their meeting house. Only the outside was carved; the interior was left. The secretary of Waiohiki Golf Club called me one day. Their management wanted a carved figure commissioned for the club. The idea was to have two ancestors, Kapi and Kurupo Tareha, depicted on to wood. That's who they wanted on the post. I believe that Kurupo was a good putter, while Kapi was an excellent golfer. At least that's what I was told. Both these men were excellent players. Before that was Mangaroa Marae and the meeting house Hikawera. Only the exterior was carved - the interior wasn't. These ancestors are holding muskets. Te Wera Hauraki is the bottom one, and the top figure is Te Whareumu. The figures opposite these two are Kahungunu and Kahukuranui. I came here to help restore some of the carvings because they had started to rot. However, the original carvers came from Te Arawa. I started on the meeting house at Te Aute. After two weeks, our government funding ran out for that project. While at Te Aute, I was approached by a group of leaders asking if I could build them a canoe for Waitangi Day. I agreed to build a canoe for Kahungunu. I left the rest of my carvers at Te Aute until their funding was exhausted, then they came through to Porangahau to help on the canoe project. Though, when more funds were made available, I couldn't return to continue on the meeting house at Te Aute. So they found another carver, named Winiata Tapsell of Te Arawa. He was an excellent carver. Our carvers worked really hard to carve the canoe. Our tribal superiors were good too, but there were some heated moments. All trying to take control, those kinds of things. But we managed to complete the canoe, and we delivered it to Waitangi. It broke. We didn't know how bad the conditions were. We launched the canoe on to the water so that our paddlers could practise. Many of them didn't know how to paddle. That was their time to learn and get used to it. So we launched it, but the waters were too shallow, and our captain wasn't aware that the water levels weren't suitable for this canoe. It would have suited smaller canoes but definitely not suited for bigger canoes. So the canoe broke. The canoe's carved sideboards and stern are at Porangahau, on their marae. The sideboards are hanging along the fence line. I carved another canoe but a smaller version for Jimmy Edwards. He asked me to build a canoe for them in Hastings. But that's a much smaller canoe. I have concerns for her health. We've been married many years, and she's always been a sickly person with her heart and other ailments to her body. But apart from all of this, she's a very strong woman. Despite her illness, she's still able to laugh. She's a staunch woman. She doesn't have a lot to say, but when she does, you'd better listen to her! I've no eyes for any other woman. I have a few words of advice. Be good to one another. Don't harm others. Love one another. Don't smack your children, your grandchildren or your wife. That's my advice to them. Without my language, I am nothing. Let's not be afraid to speak Maori to our children, to our friends. Let our language be heard! Lift our language from its silent pages into the world! For previous Waka Huia episodes, visit our website.