Ao Toa

by Cathie Dunsford

  “How much, Ray?”

  “Can’t tell you exact sums, but it’s more than you’d ever imagine. Especially if they get a world first on your farm. You could be part-owner of Porky-Baa, the first baaing pig, which tastes delicious for all I know! C’mon, Tony. You in?”

  “What’s in it for you, Ray?” Tony is suddenly suspicious.

  “Just a few back-handers. Bit of a commission, as agent, just as you’d pay a real estate broker. Besides, we’d fly these government dudes up and down, and then there’s all the PR people and foreign investors. Could keep us both rich for a while to come, mate. It’ll bring money into the Hokianga for others in business and we’d get rich and be heroes for it too, once the experiments are done and over. But it’s gotta be top-level secret for now. Ya can’t tell anyone. I won’t even tell the missus. You’ll have to sign a pledge and if you break it, you’ll lose everything.”

  Tony sips his tea quietly, mulling it all over. Just yesterday, he felt helpless and wanted revenge because Moana and the kids had left him. He’d even thought about seeing if the brown fellas could talk her into returning. But now, he has an even better future ahead. Once he could get rich quick, he’d be able to get a lawyer and get the boys back off Moana. If she would not come back – he’d force them home and then she would follow. He knows her maternal instincts would be to stay with them. Then they’d all be sweet. His anger was only when he was pushed up against the wall, too many bills to pay, not enough help on the farm. This way, he’d have everything, and fast. “Okay, Ray. Bring it on! When can I meet some of these fellas and talk over a deal?”

  “As it happens, we’re flying them up here next week. They’re keen to get some land sorted before the GM Royal Commission makes its rulings and before that bloody left-wing Labour–Alliance–Green lot get their mitts stuck into it. They could ban field trials and ban GE altogether if the greenies can convince them we should be organic and GE-free.”

  “It’ll never happen. Too many sensible farmers out there.”

  “That’s what we all said about nuclear power and nuclear weapons as a deterrent, Tony. But look how those lefties got mainstream Kiwis on board. Never did trust that Marilyn Waring sheila. What’s a lefty lezzie like her doing in the National Party anyway? We’re a party of farmers and politicians. If she’d never walked over the floor of parliament and joined the Labour opposition over the nuclear-free issue, we might never have gone down that path.”

  “Na. The lefties had Muldoon by the balls anyway by then, Ray. He lost it on whisky that night and it was the beginning of the end. The greenies and eco-activists and gays have run the country ever since, even when the Nats were in power. They’ve been whittling away at the edges, and we’d all hoped the GE decision would come when the Nats were in power. We’d have no worries then. Federated Famers are all for genetic engineering, bar a few greenies. Now we have MagicMilk, we’ll be looked after by the Big Boys, so long as they can get the government to come to the party.”

  “No worries, Tony. Money and power always win out. You’ll see.”

  Tony finishes his tea and burps. “Looking forward to that meeting, Ray. Give me a bell soon, eh? I think I’ll go down the pub and celebrate tonight.”

  “Okay. See you there. But no blabbing. This has to remain top secret or you’ll never have a chance in hell of getting a rich, fat lease on your land.”

  “Mum’s the word then, Ray. See ya.” Tony saunters out of the lunchroom, feeling better than he has in ages. Finally, some light on the horizon.

  Maata steps down from the chair and closes the window. She’s still in a state of shock. Raymond and Barbara have been really nice to her since she started work and she never dreamed that he’d be into something underhand until Irihapeti had asked her to check the records for the day of the Kawakawa poisoning. And now it sounds as if he’s into some subterfuge. But what can she do? She’ll lose her first ever job if she lets on – and maybe it could be even more dangerous for her. She cannot tell Barbara, because she does not know about it. Who’d ever believe this, apart from Cowrie and Iri and the others at Te Kotuku?

  She decides to keep quiet for a while and just monitor the situation carefully. Maybe it’s all above-board anyway? Maybe Kawakawa was a genuine accident. And perhaps the scientists do have to keep their work secret for fear of trials being interrupted and crops destroyed. She’d seen heaps of examples of genetically altered rape seed and corn trials being ripped out by activists in Europe and England on TV and on the net. And people suffering from terrible diseases that could be cured by genetically engineered solutions. Maybe the others at Te Kotuku are so set against GE that they do not understand some of the good it will do? Maata breathes a sigh of relief. She does not have to give up her job. Not yet. She’ll see what actual harm happens, see with her own eyes, now she is an adult herself, before jumping on a bandwagon for anyone. She takes out the sheet of paper copied from the files and puts it through the shredder.

  Irihapeti reads the next email from Kuini and Cowrie to the Te Kotuku nursery workers:

  Tena koutou katoa – We’re back at the email café in Kaiwaka after an amazing two days. Firstly, we went up a long winding road to the right of the Three Furlongs Pub leading up to the Otamatea Eco-Village. We were greeted in an old barn with an earthen floor full of broken, coloured tiles and sunlight gaping through the holes in the walls. It was very quaint, but bloody cold later that night when we slept on the floor!

  The collective explained their philosophy and their vision in building from eco materials and using solar and wind energy. They each have five-acre blocks of land sloping down from the ridge into the calm waters of the upper Kaipara Harbour. Beautiful land. We could picture a pa on those slopes and wondered how our ancestors may have lived there once. The group is mostly European ecologists from Germany, Holland and other northern countries, often married to Kiwi men and women. They seem highly educated and very genuine. But once we got to look around their houses and discover what materials they were using and how they’d learned by experimenting, we also realised that most of them had plenty of bikky to start with. No shacks or huts like home. Some of these places have two or three main buildings, and the timber alone would be worth a fortune. However, we still liked their courage and their vision. Some have erected wind turbos for their power – though they said it makes the internet pretty slow and they have to negotiate time online! A bit like us with our old generator. Wouldn’t mind trying some wind power at Te Kotuku, and one of the women said she’d help us design a system, so we’re rapt.

  Another wahine had a house which she described as Fairyland. She’s very creative and a real character. We liked the wooden houses best, and we’re impressed by the work they have done on the land already – transforming clay and kikuyu back to bush and a working organic garden by composting and mulching. But it was a shock to see so few trees up there. The land has been raped by farmers and it’ll take some time to heal. They were very interested in our work at Te Kotuku and asked if they could come and see the nursery sometime. We said any time after the GE march would be okay – unless you want them earlier, Iri. We’ve given them your email address anyway. The German woman who sells cheese at the Kaiwaka Organic Market is pretty cute. Turns out she’s written some organic cookbooks too. We should check these out. We liked her – a real sparkle in the eye and very sharp. Kuini teased me about liking her and how I go for those women from the north, but I assured her I am very happy to be single and focused on our work right now. [That’s her version – I’ll tell you the rest when I get back – Kuini] …

  Anyway, it was fascinating seeing how they are using alternative ways of designing and constructing their houses using Permaculture principles. They’re deeply into this Permaculture thing – but really, it’s pretty much the ancient principles our ancestors used, adapted to modern ways. Letting intuition make the design. What they lacked in organic gardening, simply because they are still building their homes, was made up for by our visit
to Koanga Gardens the next day. It endorsed all your work at Te Kotuku nursery, Iri and Koa. Kay Baxter and the people there have built up impressive vegetable gardens and orchards using old heirloom seeds gathered on Kay’s trips around Aotearoa, and they are now wanting to utilise the native forest more, learn about Rongoa Maori. We told them of your workshops, Mere, and they were very interested.

  Another woman explained the gathering of heirloom seeds and the people they have all over the country now collecting and saving seeds. There’s a whole Pakeha network out there and we could combine this with our own programme for tangata whenua and see which partnerships can benefit all. Last night, we stayed in their workshop space. They are also building a marae next door. We talked late into the night, shared knowledge about our experiments in working with plants and, of course, all the issues that concern us around genetic engineering. Spoke to another woman who got dusted in Kawakawa. We’re wondering if Maata has had time to check out the flight schedules at Flyworks yet? I guess we’ll find out on our return.

  Gotta go. There’s a busload of German backpackers trundling in here now and we wanna check out the whitebait fritters and kingfish at the Kaiwaka takeaways before heading on. We’re going to trek through the ferns in the Dome Valley now and we’re making a diversion through Matakana to visit Jo Polaischer’s Rainbow Valley Organic Farm. We’ve heard heaps about it and are really looking forward to it. More later. We’ve found out there’s another internet café in Warkworth and the kai is good too – so we’ll try emailing from there. Hope you’re all well and thriving. The energy on the hikoi is great. We might be up against the multinationals but we sure have strength within the ranks. We need to do this for the good of future generations also.

  As we said to the Otamatea folks: Toitu he kainga, whatu ngarongaro he tangata: The land still remains when the people have disappeared.

  This is now our emblem and we’ve painted it onto a large sheet to carry with us, in Maori and in English, for all to appreciate.

  Kia kaha

  Cowrie and Kuini.

  Maata’s best friend is Waka. He’s always been a good mate to her and she knows she can rely on him. Today they have trekked to the highest dunes and now stand in the wind looking down over the Hokianga Harbour, their sandboards under their arms. The blue-green water stretches out beneath them, swirling towards a rip at the harbour entrance where ancient sailing ships from England went aground, unable to negotiate the rough and treacherous Hokianga Heads. Maata recalls the day they farewelled the Manawa Toa from here to join the peace flotilla to protest nuclear testing at Moruroa. She feels a pang of guilt that maybe she has not fulfilled the wishes of her Aunty Cowrie in carrying out the task to spy on Flyworks. Then again, how could they ask her to betray her own employers who support her to bring money and resources back into the marae? The decision has not been easy. They look south towards the far dunes, Omapere and the mighty Waipoua Kauri Forest in the distance.

  “Race you to the sea,” yells Waka.

  Before he has had a chance to move, Maata throws her board down on the sand and lunges onto it, lifting her legs, bent at the knee, in the air, knowing she needs an advantage as his heavier body will propel him faster. Waka grins, diving onto his board, and they shoot down the largest dune at a fast pace, sending some pied oystercatchers squawking to their side. The thrill of the run is exhilarating as the sand whips their faces, the dunes flee past and the water comes closer by the second. Waka catches up with Maata and nearly overtakes her, but one of the torea flies right in front of him and he swerves to avoid it, losing precious seconds. Maata screams with glee as she surfs down the dune and into the waves and Waka swooshes in next to her, sending his wake over her body. She splashes him and they use their boards to spray each other with wave after wave of refreshing water after the long dune trek, laughing and relieved to be in the sea again.

  Afterwards, they stretch out in the warm sand, their arms behind their heads, and talk. Waka describes to her the design he has in mind for his part of the marae workshop extension. “I wanna use traditional designs, but also my own imagination. I’ll work with the theme of the kotuku, but interweave fern fronds into the design with some of the creatures of our bush featured also – like the giant cave weta and the bush weta. I love those insects – they are so ancient and powerful. Kind of primeval, really.”

  “Ugh. I’m not that fond of wetas but I can appreciate their beauty from a distance.” Maata grimaces. “D’ya know that they’re s’posed to be one of the two insects, along with the cockroach, that’d survive a nuclear holocaust?”

  “No kidding? That’s pretty heavy for such a beautiful day, Maata.”

  “Yeah. Maybe so.”

  “You got something on your mind?”

  “Why d’ya say that?”

  “You’ve been kinda distracted the last few days.”

  “Mmm. Just work.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yep.” Maata turns over, her back to Waka. They lie like this in silence for a while. Maata goes into a deep sleep in the sun. She has not been resting well at night. She dreams she is walking through the forest gathering flowers and leaves and berries, and a bird is caught in a trap over a pond. She wades into the pond to free the bird but begins to sink. She is in quicksand and it is getting deeper by the minute. The bird screeches and screeches until she can bear it no longer. She is being buried alive as the thick black sand comes up to her waist and then over her arms. She screams.

  “Yo, Maata. What is it? You’re here, safe with me.” Waka bends over her, smoothing her hair. He sees the fear in her eyes. Gradually, Maata comes around and realises she is in the sun on the beach and there is no quicksand. She thanks him and rubs her eyes. “It was just a bad dream, Maata. Wanna tell me about it?”

  Maata tells him what it feels like in her body to experience this fear and Waka listens quietly. “I reckon it’s a premonition or something. That’s why you’ve been so strange lately. You sure everything is okay? Are they working you too hard at the chopper base?”

  Maata sighs. She’s known Waka for years and can trust him to keep a secret. She tells him about the assignment from Iri and Cowrie to check out the books and then the conversation she overheard between Ray and Tony. Waka looks thoughtful throughout. “What would you do, Waka? You must promise to tell nobody about this, okay?”

  “Sure. I think you are wise to just wait until things progress. There’s no real evidence of anything yet, and you’d look like an idiot if you blabbed at this stage. Maybe we should hang out at Tony’s a while and see what we can find out? We’d need to get photos of this stuff he’s spraying and be able to identify the poisons too. No point in acting until we have all this. And then we can see if the Big Boys want his farm for their GE experiments. Sounds pie-in-the-sky to me. I reckon that Raymond fella is a bit of a bullshitter. Always likes to think he is in with the important people.”

  “He’s been okay to me actually, though he can be a bit sexist at times.”

  “Older men are like that. Must be in their genes.” Waka grins.

  “Yeah – well maybe those are genes that could do with some interference. What is it Iri talks about – horizontal gene transfer. Maybe they could lay all the blokes out in the sand and transfer the anti-sexist genes of women into their makeup?” Maata laughs at the bizarre idea.

  “One problem there, Maata. What about those sexist women who try to keep their power and betray other women in the process?”

  “Goes to show that the methodology just doesn’t work, eh Waka?”

  They snuggle together and talk about their mates, their ideals, and the complexities of not always being able to come down one side or the other on issues like those confronting Maata. They resolve to do a bit of detective work themselves and see where it leads them.

  Tena koutou katoa – Cowrie and Kuini here. We’re now hanging out at Heron’s Flight vineyard – not bad for a GE-free march eh? The owners, Mary and David, have let us camp between t
he café and the vineyard – and use their email today. The Dome Valley walk was stunning – tracks through fern forests full of mamaku, kauri, rimu and some very large kahikatea. We took a side track and came out in the Whangaripo Valley, and walked on a clay trail to Rainbow Valley Organic Farm. It’s a subtropical wilderness. It was once dry clay and kikuyu grass and we can see from the neighbouring farm, which is still sprayed all the time, how dry and cracked the land had become. Jo and Trish began replanting and mulching and inventing new ways of adapting Permaculture and organic growing principles just over a decade ago, and in that short time, this lush valley has responded with love.

  We were greeted by their kunekune pigs on arrival – gorging on bananas. They’ve used Ethiopian banana palms, with trunks as wide as a waka, as shelter under which to grow all manner of crops ranging from vegetables and herbs to Californian date palms. Everything responds to the heat, and in our Northland climate it needs the shelter to keep the mulch moist and the plants from drying out. We’ve now seen how we could extend the banana plantation at Te Kotuku and plant beneath the bananas. Jo has given us some seeds to grow these majestic Ethiopian bananas too. They only have one huge trunk, which helps for using them as shelter since our Hokianga bananas are ladyfinger variety and they sprout everywhere. We tasted the bananas – better for cooking than eating – hence the kunekune gets a great feast – but the leaves make a luscious mulch. We’ve had lots of talkstory over GE-free issues and Permaculture too. Then Jo showed us how he has invented new farm tools hewn from recycled wood, to make organic farming easier. He’s even adapted an old washing machine wringer to extract sugar juice from the sugar cane. It’s delicious! Yum!

  There’s an extensive nursery growing all kinds of heirloom varieties – plums, apples, pears, tangelos, and mandarins, tasting like fruit tasted when we were kids. They’ve built a rammed-earth house which uses solar energy, with a wild garden on the roof, and an earthen oven for outdoor cooking. Inside are superbly crafted colourful tiles and a sense of peace and abundance. Outside the kitchen window, a spiral herb garden with rocks to retain the heat of the sun, and basil, Vietnamese mint, coriander, thyme, peppermint, lemon balm, garlic – and many others – looking more like trees than herbs. Like Kay Baxter at Koanga Gardens, they make good use of local fish and seaweed as a fertiliser in addition to mulching with plant material.