Kia ora! Our excellent adventure continues with some
thoughts on our connections to family. This is our Maori friend, Arapaera. When
we first met her, I had a difficult time making eye contact with her due to the
presence of what I considered to be a very unsightly facial tattoo. No matter
how hard I tried, it seemed that I could not readjust my attention from
focusing solely on her chin. After that initial meeting, I could not have told
you what she really looked like; what color her eyes were or how long her hair
was. I would not have even been able to hazard a guess as to her age. I had
only noticed one thing and it held my attention. I will also admit to having
mentally questioned why anyone would make a decision to permanently alter their
appearance in that way. I could not imagine such a thing, let alone understand
it.
As time passed, and we had the opportunity to get better
acquainted, the subject of Mokos, or facial tattoos came up in one of our
conversations. I was touched and quite amazed to learn that Arapaeras’ Moko was
a tribute to her family heritage. Mokos are not unusual in Maori culture and
Arapearas’ Moko tells about her ancestors and her special place in that family.
Each design and its placement speaks to some facet of her particular family
story. She explained, with great reverence, what each curve represented. She
related family history that was depicted by symbols displayed indelibly on her
face. Arapaera considers it an honor to prominently and permanently tell the
world who she is and where she came from.
No two Mokos are alike.
As I started thinking about conversations with our new
friend, I reflected upon other cultures which also show respect and reverence
for family. There are totem poles, clan tartans, coats of arms, and family
bibles listing all the events of a family inside its cover. There are unveiling ceremonies in the South
Pacific on the one-year anniversary of a loved ones’ death. There are in-house
shrines dedicated to the memory of deceased loved ones and family histories
carved into walking sticks and into the eaves of some humble homes. There are
stories; more like legends actually, that are passed down from one generation to
another. These sagas become more epic in their retelling. We save tattered photos and old letters
because they touch some spot in our hearts. We tell the same worn out jokes
over and over because they were told by a loved one. We cherish old quilts,
family antiques and favorite recipes. We wish to remember.
I personally treasure a piece of Irish linen that a great,
great (too many greats to count) grandmother wove as a young woman in Ireland . That
single linen has been passed drown from oldest granddaughter to oldest
granddaughter since the 1700s. This simple piece of ecru fabric would mean
almost nothing to others, but because it is accompanied by handwritten
signatures of all of the women who have cherished it, it means the world to me.
It is part of my Moko.
So what is my personal Moko? What do I treasure that has
permanence and speaks to the love and reverence that I feel for my family? Many
of you are way ahead of me on this one and can already make a guess as to where
I am going. While I have not chosen any kind of personal body marking, I have
made some life choices, which I hope, will keep my family together forever. I
have chosen to spend some portion of my life far away from home sharing what I
believe with others. In reality, everything we are doing here in New Zealand , revolves around the
central theme of family and the importance of keeping those connections. In
this process, I have also come to appreciate Arapearas’ Moko in a much
different light. She has the courage to forever display who she is and what she
stands for on her face, making no apologies. I hope to do the same.
As always, we are happy and trying to work hard. We are
grateful for our family and friends who feel like family. We treasure you and
honor who you are and what you stand for. We cannot imagine our lives without
all of you in them. By the way, you might find it interesting that in Maori,
the nickname for the word grandchild is Moko. That pretty much
says it all, don’t you think?
Love Ward and Susan, Elder and Sister Belliston, serving in Gisborne , New
Zealand