By Moana Wereta
The two kunekune pigs, Pedro and Piggles, were stranded. Their whare (home) was slowly being surrounded by a lake that was emerging with the weeks of heavy rain that had been battering Aotearoa. Kui, our nan and matriarch, was anxious for the pigs. Everyday she waded through the flooded paddock with her giant, yellow gumboots to feed her distressed friends.
As the waters continued to rise, Kui knew a rescue mission was needed. She spent a sleepless night hatching a plan. The next morning, she sent out a karanga (call) to her mokopuna (grandchildren) and tamariki (children). She had an idea – a great plan that could only be pulled off if the whānau (family) worked together.
The whānau gathered in the pouring rain to hear Kui’s plan. Her idea was to attach a long rope to an old polystyrene refrigerator panel, then, using a long-handled shovel as a hoe (paddle), row across the lake to the stranded kunekune. Each pig would then be lured onto the raft with kai (food). Once safely aboard the makeshift raft, Kui would karanga to the whānau on shore to pull them to safety.
Some of the whānau scoffed at the plan and thought Kui was crazy, but others trusted her vision. Either way, they all wanted Kui to be happy and the kunekune to be safe and that meant working together.
Kui and Moko set off on the raft. The two little dogs, Piko and Toro, jumped on for the ride as well. Greedy Pedro was first to the raft; he was the fittest and hungrier of the two. Trustingly, he stepped onto the raft. Once centred, Kui gave the karanga to the whānau to “Pull!” Pedro was on his way to safety. Near the centre of the lake, the raft started to sink. Kui yelled, “Pull faster!” They all pulled faster, and the waka (canoe) reached the land. “Phew,” a sigh of relief was expressed by the whānau.
Piggles was next. This was a longer game of patience since Piggles was blind and much slower than Pedro. She followed Kui’s voice and encouragement onto the raft, and then the whānau pulled on the rope. Halfway through the lake, Piggles moved and the raft tilted dangerously. Moko jumped into the lake and used all her body to balance it. The whānau pulled and pulled, and finally Piggles reached the other side. Everyone was soaking wet and covered in mud laughing and celebrating while the dogs barked and the pigs sat stunned. The rescue mission was a success!
This ignited a week full of water play for the whānau. Old refrigerator panels and spades turned into waka and hoe. Races ensued for the fastest waka, and various other items became transportation. The whānau visited tree stumps and half submerged chairs that had become islands, balanced on logs, and ventured through bamboo canals narrowly escaping dangerous water creatures. Amidst a challenging and precarious situation, the whānau found a place to play, to engage with ducks and ducklings and frogs, to observe and explore their changing environment.
The whole whānau was able to enjoy and experience the taonga (gifts) of Hine Takurua. If we’re not looking, we can miss these taonga and lose sight of our ability to play in times of change and challenge. We are aware that our environment is in a great time of change. How do we tap into play to better understand and adapt to our new environment? Play Aotearoa would love to hear what fun games your whānau have played in these wet months that Hine Takurua has given us. Are you jumping through puddles in the urban expanse of Tāmaki Makaurau, or perhaps you’re in a rural playground noticing new pathways being cut by excessive rains? What lessons are being learned through this play? How does play enable us to creatively and joyfully adapt to and take care of our changing environment?
By Moana Wereta and Jessica Worchel In acknowledgement of Grandparent’s week (27 October to 1 November 2022), Play Aotearoa would like to share pūrākau (story) and whakataukī (proverbs) that demonstrate the powerful connection between mokopuna (grandchildren) and tūpuna as it relates to te ao Māori (Māori worldview) (1).
Jj woke from the loudness of the day. The manu (birds) were singing their waiata (songs), and the rays of Tama-nui-te-rā were shining bright through the window.
As Tama-nui-te-Rā (personification of the sun) moves away from the whare (house) of Hine Takurua (personification of winter) and closer to Hine Raumati (personification of summer), we move into kōanga (spring).
By Moana Wereta In te ao Māori (Māori worldview), various atua personify and represent aspects of our natural and supernatural world.