My bad date with a Māori podcaster, takatāpui Russian-Māori siblings, and a new Tuwhare.
Tēnā koutou e hoa mā,
From Ranginui and Paptūānuku to Hinemoa and Tūtānekai to Scotty and Stacey, te ao Māori is full of love stories and with Valentine’s approaching, we figured this was the wiki to go all in.
Here’s what we have for you i tēnei rā/today:
-four romantic recommendations to add to your watch, read, listen, and do lists
-a 25% discount deal from a creative Māori pākihi to have you glowing on date night
-a kiss and tell kōrero about a ‘bad’ date with a Māori podcaster
Plus, your chance to win a prize pack with $500 of epic goodies from Māori creatives!
Āe, we’re keeping it spicy with some new sections this week e te whānau. Let us know if you’re into them or not through our end poll.
Rehekō/Let’s go!
Greta and Valdin are takatāpui Russian-Māori siblings flatting in Tāmaki Makaurau. He’s in love with his ex who just left the country and she with her kaiako/tutor who appears to be using her for admin support.
Their parallel haerenga/journeys navigating modern love are as touching as they are funny/hātakēhi.
Reviewers keep calling this pukapuka outrageous (in a good way), but to this Jaffa with a Māori koro, Jewish-Austrian kui, and many queer siblings and cuzzies, it’s simply and refreshingly relatable!
A stereotype-annihilating, heart-warming must-read.
Find it: on the Te Herenga Waka Press website
Time: 336 pages
Cost: $35
The lyrics repeatedly tell us not to fall in love with THEM. But their SONG is fair game, nē? Nā te mea/because just about everyone we’ve played it to, regardless of gender or sexuality, has tapped that little heart icon on Spotify.
Inspired by classic showbands like The Hi-Marks, The Māori Volcanics, and The Quin-Tikis, this famous quartet have suave style, voices like caramel, and old-school charm that is hard to resist.
Frankly, they’ve got us hook, line, and sinker.
This waiata is perfect for date nights and doing whatever you want yourself while feeling thankful you’re single nights. Line it up.
Find it: on Spotify
Time: 3mins, 30 secs
Cost: free with your account
This trip to the crib once owned by her great-grandfather isn’t some spiritual journey, she says.
She’s just curious/mahira.
Heoi as she opens his door, sweeps her hands across his desk, and walks his beach, it’s clear to viewers that’s exactly what this is.
Her ingoa is Manaia Tuwhare-Hoani and she’s a poet—just like her famous tīpuna tuarua, Hone Tuwhare.
In this short film, Manaia writes a love letter to the world inspired by Hone. It’s a powerful expression of the grief we've all felt for the people we love but never got the chance to know on earth. Prep tissues.
Find it: on the loading docs website
Time: 9mins
Cost: free
You couuullllllddddd give your ipo/darling a mass produced card that says you love them this Valentine’s Day like everyone else…
Or you could give them a handmade beauty from Kāinga Stories that says ‘Your wairua makes mine flutter’, or ‘Your tūpuna would be so proud of you’.
Here’s an opportunity for those of us who want to express our aroha but struggle with the lovey-dovey: Te reo Māori is a poetic, deep, and metaphorical language—which means by switching to Māori kupu/words and whakaaro/ideas, you can totally pull off sayings that would just sound cheesy in English.
Make the switch and let loose e hoa mā.
Find them: on the Kāinga Stories website
Time: 5mins
Cost: $6 each or 5 for $25
Get 25% off Aotea therapeutic skincare!
These beautiful products are extracted, formulated and bottled by hand on Aotea/Great Barrier Island. Support Māori owned business and look good while you’re at it. This is a Valentine’s deal that won’t last.
Use the code: AROHA25 to redeem your discount.
My date was tino purotu/very handsome. Like so purotu I wished I was wearing more makeup. He had huge muscles, a beautiful smile, flash as clothes, and seemed super friendly.
The raruraru/problem was that two minutes in, I already knew we had zilch chemistry. Even more awkward, I could tell he’d realised the same thing.
We steeled ourselves for small talk and I prayed thanks as the waitress came to take a drink order.
Now here’s where it got rough—and it’s the only negative thing I’ll say about him—the man ordered us a terrible, terrible drink. Not pia/beer, not wāina/wine, but the most outlandish shared cocktail I’ve ever seen in my life.
It was a volcano shaped vessel, bigger than both our heads together, that looked like a child’s papier mâché assignment. It came with two oversized straws.
For a wahine who normally opts for a simple lager, this was a lot.
‘Nō hea koe?’ he asked as he took his first slurp.
I wrestled with my straw and proceeded to give him my usual line, ‘Oh ya know, Te Kaha originally. I’m a quarter cast Māori but pretty much just a mongrel.’
His eyes opened wide in an expression I can still picture clearly—a mix of anger (not toward me but toward an idea) and deep empathy. It cut through our conversation like a knife, launching us into a new level of—for want of another kupu, intimacy—that I certainly didn’t expect.
‘You don’t have to introduce yourself like that, you know,’ he said.
I was caught off-guard. I let my straw sink into a sea of weird purple bubbles, unsure if I should feel attacked. ‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
‘You don’t have to lower yourself to a blood quantum like that, as if you’re apologising or writing it off or something. If you whakapapa Māori, you’re Māori. That’s how it is.’
No one had ever said those words to me, let alone a beautiful Māori stranger.
I didn’t know what to do with them. While we moved to lighter kaupapa, they rolled around inside me, sinking into the softest bits, then piercing sharply at something deep.
He dropped me home. We exchanged a peck on the cheek and mumbled something about maybe seeing each other again some time (we didn’t).
Later, when I saw this tāne launch a podcast all about cultural connection, it confirmed something I’d already seen in my mahi. There are many, many Māori creatives out there who truly give a damn about helping people of all backgrounds to find their place within Māori culture. It seeps from them in both their professional and personal lives.
That ‘bad’ date (that he won’t even remember) gave me the confidence I needed to start my cultural reconnection journey and changed my trajectory in life. And I’m so thankful.
I wanted more people to experience the impacts, which meant I either needed to set this fella up on a whole bunch more dates, or start a newsletter to write about him and other amazing Māori creatives. About eight years on, we sent out our first issue of Te Arawhata.
If you’re reading this, Happy Valentines Scott. Ngā mihi nui for your words that night and I hope you’re slurping cocktails with someone special.
