 |
From Hawaii to New Zealand
by Amina Baird |
They keep colonizing. Pretty soon everything will have an entrance and an exit, which is pretty crazy, considering it's all made of the same stuff: oxygen, carbohydrates, lava...
It was raining in Hawaii and I was tired of having to buy something to stay dry. But I couldn't sit on those steps--"There are businesses here." As in, "Isn't it obvious?" or "Don't be ridiculous."
 |
| Amina and her friend Ben Trogdon visit Hot Springs in New Zealand. |
So like the rest of them, I paid for my carbohydrates and my oxygen: plain white rice in a cardboard box and a dry place to sit.
Across the island, the business man and the army man traded Hawaiian land the same way. They cut off big pieces and parceled them in brown paper, ancestors' bones and all. They build military bases and shiny subdivisions for families of four.
Across the Pacific, here in New Zealand, property values rise as rich folks from England and the States buy up all the beachfront property for summer homes. The Maori see that land as their sacred treasure -- their soul. They were born to steward and protect that land; to use it collectively and to give to it, not just take.
They say that when the Europeans came, everyone grew competition-like claws, settlers and native alike. A culture without a word for "private property" started selling out pieces of the land that entire iwi (tribes) used, but that no one "owned." Settlers lied and cheated and stole. One hundred and fifty years later, the wounds are still fresh.
 |
An American investor just began construction in a "protected" native area on the South Island of New Zealand. He walked into the county office and asked how big the fine was for cutting down the endangered trees. Then he wrote them a fat check.
No companies in the area would help him clear the land, so he flew workers across the sea, and said "sue me" to the local people--people with just enough money to live on. |
| Amina looks for a ride. |
 |
| Amina poses in front of a glacier on the west coast of New Zealand. She's holding crutches because she broke her foot skateboarding. |
So the rich immigrants and the generations of displaced Maori and the working class Kiwis rub shoulders like commuters on the Metro, edging out enough space to stay standing when the train jolts. And the old ladies and the pregnant woman glance hopefully for a kind face to give up their seat.
In 1769, when the settlers first came to New Zealand, the old Maori said it would be a span of four generations, from old woman to baby, that would live under the British. The first would be destroyed, the second would be assimilated, the third would learn the white peoples' skills, and the fourth would use these skills to set themselves free. And it is this fourth generation that is now in their 20s and 30s and 40s, itching for change and building.
In Hawaii I walked ancient trails to sacred beaches that were closed to public access for one hundred years by the corporations that "bought" the land. Liberated trails, they said. I witnessed the trial of a Hawaiian man who refused to cooperate with a state run by the same corporations that bought that land. A liberated man, they said, as he walked off in handcuffs.
And to the judge the lawyer said that, for Hawaiians, prayer and politics are one and the same. That in each action is the prayer oponopono --to set right what is wrong in the world.
I wonder if things would be different if all was set right. I wonder if the Maori got their land back, would they still charge me to watch the stirrings of creation in the giant glaciers and bubbling mud pools? Would Hawaiians ask me to pay to watch the bright red lava spilling out of the earth's veins? Overflowing, heartfelt, just to harden into a new piece of land. To start it all over again.
 |
Amina Baird is a Takoma Park resident. Taking a gap year following her graduation from Montgomery Blair in June, she is traveling around the world, working on farms, visiting new lands, learning about the struggles of indigenous people.
To follow Amina in her travels, go to www.livejournal.com/users/aminaalthea.
|
|
