An Everyday Event

The kitchen sink is full as always. I am alone with it, it calls my name. I respond not but take note. It is a sink full of mismatched human technologies trying to clean themselves up (NOT) but who call out my name to what? To clean them. Someone has to do it, why not this maid? I wash a few spoons (take a photograph) and then I write in order to build an ethnography of what is going on around me.

While washing the spoons I contemplate the collection of 'things' upon the kitchen shelf. There are all kinds of things for different reasons whose material reality clog up the shelf, prohibiting the cleaning of the ledge upon where they precariously sit. Being severe earthquake country, these objects should be classified as hazardous objects, let's not classify them, however, let's finish cleaning our spoons and write to the heart of the matter. Which is? I am sick of some objects! There are too many of them and they are all different and usually dirtier than the pallet will allow.Someone has to clean them, move them about, make way for them, be their keepers and lie down with them. What objects are worth that amount of energy and intimacy, well let's see which objects are? The answer depends on who or whom you ask. To who am I addressing? The new sociologist in me that is moving house, the person who studies people for the benefit of people but foremost for understanding herself alongside so many different objects including people, some dirtier than others, some made of metal, some plastic and some for specialised uses....things and people are legion! How to make sense of so much? And, how to move it all efficiently without breaking the objects and/or other hearts attached to them. Do we get to decide who and what we interact with the most? Are all the objects on the shelf a matter of personal concern? You bet they are, they need cleaning, sorting and moving and somehow they all landed inside my house. This entire household is on the move now because we are changing address, place and lifestyle in a matter of weeks. Every thing here is demanding consideration to stay for the next occupant, go with us or purchase a one way ticket to somewhere else to be recycled and become someone else's matter of concern. I washed a few more spoons.

Clark came back from the market and brought more objects, but he was forgiven because they looked like proteas.

Then, I went out into the garage and got two boxes, one for things to go to our new home and one for things to be donated to the Salvation Army. What a name, Salvation Army, something desirable coupled with an act of war. The war on objects has started here, I intend to be ruthless, unsentimental, practical and efficient.This will be my first box packed. While I was in the act of the doing of it I scrubbed walls, washed and squeegeed windows and emptied out another cupboard besides what was on the kitchen shelf. Things that needed doing grew and the kitchen sink was cleaned, too. Sparking from my motivation, Clark got his own two boxes and sorted his gardening and cooking books in-between reading sessions.

All in all, three boxes were taped shut, demarcated as to what was inside of them and deposited under the living room table for now.One box full of castaway objects sits in the utility room floor awaiting a speedy exit. There are less objects on the kitchen ledge now and the kitchen sink is empty. I am sure this will be an everyday event for some weeks, no months to come.

O Kaitiaki

My linguist friend that is educated in the Māori language has advised me that a better name than Kaitiakitanga for our special place is O Kaitiaki. Already the input from others that I embrace has created a more appropriate name. I told her that being originally from Oklahoma, whose abbreviation is OK, makes this new name feel intermingled appropriate with my past life and present life that feels bestowed rather than obtained. So, O Kaitiaki it will be. The Māori dictionary states that the 'O' without the macron means:

1. (particle) of, belongs to, from, attached to - used with this meaning when the possessor has, or had, no control of the relationship or is subordinant, passive or inferior to what is possessed. This includes actions that are regarded as part of the nature of people or animals

The Māori dictionary states that 'Kaitiaki' means:

1. (noun) trustee, minder, guard, custodian, guardian, caregiver, keeper, steward.

The Māori dictionary states that 'Kaitiakitanga' means:

1. (noun) guardianship, stewardship, trusteeship, trustee.

I feel O Kaitiaki is a better reflection of the type of relationship I intend to hold with this place that will serve as a home for my immediate family but with the understanding that we possess it passively and inferior to the rights of the land and its historical significance for others before us and those yet to come. There are already others called to come and celebrate the joy that is found when we achieve something together rather than individually. O Kaitiaki is not MY place, O Kaitiaki is OUR place through an environmental stance of kaitiakitanga. And, in saying that I will try to remain open and aware to the needs others might have to enjoy this plot of land bordering Lake Forsyth (known to Māori as Te Roto o Wairewa) that currently needs all of us to be better stewards of the environment for the many generations that continue to come. Haere Mai! (Come Here!)

Kaitiaki Kathy

Clark and I found our next home (and a venue to share with many) on June 21, 2016, the longest night and our thirteenth wedding anniversary. The photo above is one of the views from the back of the section of our new home. A friend who saw the picture called me Kaitiaki Kathy Kise, Kaitiaki meaning a guardian or trustee of the earth. I am very pleased to be the guardian of this property which is a heritage site for indigenous Maori. The entire history I do not know yet, but feel deeply. I will learn about the history as I go through my life at Kaitiakitanga, the name of this old but new place for us to share with others who feel the need to come and be with nature. Those needs will be met here we are fairly certain of it.

The above picture taken from the back of the section is Lake Forsyth, or traditional for the Maori, Wairewa.

Wairewa means water lifted up. Te Roto o Wairewa was the last lake to be dug out by the legendary Rākaihautū. On completion, he thrust his famous kō (digging stick) into Horomaka (Banks Peninsula) forming Tuhiraki (Mt Bossu), this act constituted the lifting up. Traditionally, Māori have sole eel fishing rights on this lake. Up until whaling times the lake had a permanent outlet to the sea and waka could travel right into the forested inlet, which was then known as Māori Harbour.

Christchurch City Libraries http://my.christchurchcitylibraries.com/ti-kouka-whenua/wairewa/ There are no trees now, but the remnants of past hunting and gathering procedures of the Maori still mark the landscape. It is a very sacred place where food has been gathered for centuries, battles fought and Maori dead laid to rest. There are bones (though which tribe I am not apprised of yet) buried on our property we intend to turn into a Whānau Trust. It is a peaceful resting place and one that called to me a few weeks ago as I walked by and suddenly noticed a sign advertising it For Sale. I had never noticed the property before. It was as if, it suddenly just appeared.It is a very private place and perhaps it is invisible unless one needs to see it. I had walked past it many times over the past year, not a glimpse of it in my memory. There is so much to see in this place of Birdlings Flat, it is no wonder that I might miss a large part of it for some time. I am grateful that nature often puts on a display that feels designed just for me and lifting my spirit. One day I went down to the beach, fell on my knees and then suddenly this rainbow appeared.

Nature is playful that way if we engage with making meaning for ourselves in relationship to it. I can tell you I felt held on that beach as if I was not only allowed to play upon the rocks (many of which are agates) but entertained by the most amazing colours. Who amongst us can look at the colours in this ocean and sky and not be transformed by the awe of it? I sat in awe that day. Little did I know that less than two weeks later I would be coming out of a real estate office in Lincoln after signing a contract to purchase the property and without yet knowing whether we would be the winning purchaser (as it was a multiple offer), I noticed this vague full rainbow in the sky and snapped its picture right before it disappeared.

I felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz repeating silently, 'there's no place like home' as this land claimed Clark and me with all its mythical presence and quirky habits laid down by its past lovers. I feel I have found a good enough place to die and THAT is the beginning of wanting to live again after five and a half years too long stuck in a city I had become allergic to. I love the people of Christchurch but I no longer have any love for a landscape haunted by traffic noise, rebuilding pounding, thumping, ringed by limitless road cones that spring up each morning in new places like a virus. I have vowed to leave this tortured city to the younger at heart and help them heal from the outskirts. There is no one who feels the way this city has made me feel that I would turn away from the gate (or portal) of Kaitiakitanga. This is a place to heal through nature.

Perhaps this Granddaddy San Pedro holds the keys to heaven on earth for the Kaitiaki Kathy and Kaitiaki Clark currently entrusted to help them (and us) remain standing. Peace to you if you are reading this and if you feel the need to come to a place for increased wellbeing, Kaitiakitanga will be available for the public to come and overnight by December of 2016. Come one, come all, just not at the same time. Bookings necessary, deeply appreciated and may be reciprocated by work in lieu on the property or a modest donation.