Hello, all!
I left you on a cliffhanger last time…in the end, I never did make it to Taumata Hill. I realized that in being such a long trip, I would need at least a day and a half to make it there and back, and in the midst of wrapping up my time in Aotearoa New Zealand, I couldn’t make it happen. Maybe some journeys are better left as punchlines.
I’ll include a photograph (not mine, sadly) of the sign that displays the hill’s name, so that we may still appreciate it:
However, staying in Auckland these last two days made space for an exciting opportunity: a last-minute interview! Last night, I received an email response from a linguist and te reo professor in the University of Auckland’s Māori Studies department, and despite it being my last day, I was able to meet her this afternoon on the UOA campus.
She described Māori Studies, and te reo Māori acquisition in general, as a field that is both flourishing and under pressure. Students come in with wildly different levels of te reo – from beginners to fluent speakers – and by the second year, most who remain in the program are Māori themselves (as opposed to first year, where enrolled student backgrounds are much more diverse), many preparing to become teachers. She explained that Māori medium education has now reached a third generation of children, producing bilingual graduates who go on to higher education and better-paying jobs, even as waitlists for these programs remain long and questions of access linger. She also emphasized how much te reo permeates everyday New Zealand English: loanwords, vocabulary, even subtle grammar shifts that many New Zealanders don’t even realize they’ve absorbed.
At the same time, she acknowledged the tensions. Kapa haka and other cultural practices can set a very high bar for what it means to be Māori, and older generations still carry memories of open discrimination – like her own mother enduring being spat on and called “dirty Māori” on her way to school as a child. Yet today, shame has largely given way to pride – she says that very few, if any, are ashamed of being Māori anymore, even if confidence in the language itself varies. She also spoke about institutional challenges: government cuts to humanities and linguistics have reduced her department dramatically, despite Māori being one of the most studied small languages in the world, led largely by Māori scholars themselves. Still, she was firm in her outlook: te reo belongs to everyone in Aotearoa, and the widespread desire to learn it is part of what makes this country what it is.
As I mentioned before, I’ve actually seen fairly limited te reo Māori signage in Auckland, and the few instances where it does appear tend to have inconsistencies – for example, bus stops are almost always announced in both English and te reo Māori, but the order flips depending on the bus line. Simultaneously, plenty of other languages – like Mandarin, Arabic, and Korean – hold roles in the landscape, especially in the restaurant scene, which reflects Auckland’s incredible diversity. Businesses vary too: Bank of New Zealand, for example, has taken a more proactive role, not just with bilingual signage but even in their banking app, which can be set to English, te reo, or a special learner mode that blends the two by providing definitions and prompts for beginners.
Yesterday evening, being my second-to-last, I decided to make the short trek up Mount Eden, the highest volcano in Auckland. The city of Auckland is actually situated on a volcanic field, home to 53 volcanic centers. This one, also known as Maungawhau, was historically an elaborate Māori fortified village settlement that was home to thousands. Its crater is the most sacred place, and is not to be entered – the city council has created an elevated walkway that traces the rim of the crater, complete with viewing platforms and sitting areas where visitors can enjoy the gorgeous, panoramic views of the city.
I stayed there to watch the sun go down. From this height, I could pick out a few places that now held memories for me: the stadium where I watched a rugby match on one of my very first days; the Sky Tower, a sharp needle in Auckland’s silhouette that often guided me home, my hostel just a block away; and, barely visible in the distance, Waiheke Island, where I’d taken the ferry one bright morning. With every minute, the colors burned brighter.
My bags are now packed…for the final time on this trip, which is quite bittersweet. I head to the airport at around noon tomorrow, flying to San Francisco first before making my way – all around and back again – to Chicago. Stay tuned for a final post tomorrow with some closing thoughts and reflections on the last two and a half months. Thank you all so much for following along!