Lines quoted are from the movie script.
Dance with the waves, move with the sea.
Let the rhythm of the water set you free. - Christy Ann Martine
Tomorrow has always been my favorite day. It’s the day when I get everything done, but specially, because tomorrow ends the waiting for a leader...
... the descendant of the whale rider.
If this all sounds familiar, you're on the right track. I'm channeling the storyline from the movie Whale Rider.
We're in the Mitai Maori village in New Zealand.
The smells.
The feels.
They remind me of Whangara, the nearby island shaped like a whale where the movie was shot on location. I won't be surprised if I see the twelve-year-old Maori girl here.
Ah, there she is, emerging from among the Poi dancers.
Pai.
She stands and begins to recite, keeping her voice steady. In the old days, the land felt a great emptiness. It was waiting... waiting for a leader. And he came on the back of a whale, a man to lead a new people. Our ancestor, Paikea.
Her hand over her eyes, she peers upward. But now we were waiting for the boy who would be chief.
She has no articulate dialogue, just truncated thoughts. Everyone was waiting for the firstborn boy to lead us.
Except... he dies. And Pai, one of twins, doesn't. Her Koro wishes in his heart that she'd never been born. Only males are allowed to be chief. No fair. Pai, however, is determined to claim her birthright.
Is it possible?
Will she one day roll her eyes and say, I am so sure... And toss her hair and stomp her feet and demand a tattoo that's just like her Koro's?
Her much-anticipated, constantly-promised-over-achieving tomorrow never seems to arrive. But the tiniest little part of her keeps hoping. And tonight is when it is going to happen.
Excited, I look out into the sea with her. The wind is whipping the rain sideways in a gathering storm. Then what should emerge behind the rolling mist but, wait for it...
The immense form of a whale. Stranded on shore.
A mass of people try to push it back to sea. It will die of dehydration, someone says with urgent concern. It can collapse under its own weight, another says in a clipped tone. But their efforts are in vain.
Despite my fear of deep waters, I just know what to do. I'm with you, Pai, I shout boldly.
Hello, Chief Whale.
Nice to meet you.
I can hear the audible gasp from the frustrated folks who are walking back home, for now they see Pai, and me in tow, mounting the whale.
What if she doesn't succeed?
What if she loses courage?
What if tomorrow never comes?
I can see Pai's snub-nosed resolve. She knows. This whale on the beach... The Taniwha. It is Paikea's whale. It came from Hawaiiki where the ancestors are.
I have to turn it around, she tells me calmly but firmly, her teeth clenched.
I look at the sea. It seems like a hundred rivers across which the spirits have sent angry winds. She wraps her arms around the whale... like trying to embrace a shadow. And I? I'm hanging on to her for dear life. We bob in the choppy waters, impossibly large and full of beauty and danger.
Until suddenly….the waters part and Pai, astride the mammoth creature, finally coaxes it back into the ocean in a display of sheer spiritual power. With this one grand gesture, she has affirmed herself as the tribe's leader.
You make me proud, girl!
The next morning, Pai with her father, grandparents, and uncle sit on the helm of a 60-foot waka for its maiden voyage. Pai's lips are slightly parted and the tip of her tongue protrudes, the way it does when she's concentrating.
I mouth the words, as she begins to say, My name is Paikea Apirana, and I come from a long line of chiefs stretching all the way back to the Whale Rider.
All that waiting.
That distant dream.
Done. Done. And done.
Classic.
Kia ora! Hello! Our Maori guide invites us to the traditionally cooked hangi meal being lifted from the ground. My mouth waters at the smell of succulent chicken and lamb baked with kumara sweet potatoes.
She stands and begins to recite, keeping her voice steady. In the old days, the land felt a great emptiness. It was waiting... waiting for a leader. And he came on the back of a whale, a man to lead a new people. Our ancestor, Paikea.
Her hand over her eyes, she peers upward. But now we were waiting for the boy who would be chief.
She has no articulate dialogue, just truncated thoughts. Everyone was waiting for the firstborn boy to lead us.
Except... he dies. And Pai, one of twins, doesn't. Her Koro wishes in his heart that she'd never been born. Only males are allowed to be chief. No fair. Pai, however, is determined to claim her birthright.
Is it possible?
Will she one day roll her eyes and say, I am so sure... And toss her hair and stomp her feet and demand a tattoo that's just like her Koro's?
Her much-anticipated, constantly-promised-over-achieving tomorrow never seems to arrive. But the tiniest little part of her keeps hoping. And tonight is when it is going to happen.
Excited, I look out into the sea with her. The wind is whipping the rain sideways in a gathering storm. Then what should emerge behind the rolling mist but, wait for it...
The immense form of a whale. Stranded on shore.
A mass of people try to push it back to sea. It will die of dehydration, someone says with urgent concern. It can collapse under its own weight, another says in a clipped tone. But their efforts are in vain.
Despite my fear of deep waters, I just know what to do. I'm with you, Pai, I shout boldly.
Hello, Chief Whale.
Nice to meet you.
I can hear the audible gasp from the frustrated folks who are walking back home, for now they see Pai, and me in tow, mounting the whale.
What if she doesn't succeed?
What if she loses courage?
What if tomorrow never comes?
I can see Pai's snub-nosed resolve. She knows. This whale on the beach... The Taniwha. It is Paikea's whale. It came from Hawaiiki where the ancestors are.
I have to turn it around, she tells me calmly but firmly, her teeth clenched.
I look at the sea. It seems like a hundred rivers across which the spirits have sent angry winds. She wraps her arms around the whale... like trying to embrace a shadow. And I? I'm hanging on to her for dear life. We bob in the choppy waters, impossibly large and full of beauty and danger.
Until suddenly….the waters part and Pai, astride the mammoth creature, finally coaxes it back into the ocean in a display of sheer spiritual power. With this one grand gesture, she has affirmed herself as the tribe's leader.
You make me proud, girl!
The next morning, Pai with her father, grandparents, and uncle sit on the helm of a 60-foot waka for its maiden voyage. Pai's lips are slightly parted and the tip of her tongue protrudes, the way it does when she's concentrating.
I mouth the words, as she begins to say, My name is Paikea Apirana, and I come from a long line of chiefs stretching all the way back to the Whale Rider.
All that waiting.
That distant dream.
Done. Done. And done.
Classic.
THE END
Until next time! For now, the balcony is closed.
Kia ora! Hello! Our Maori guide invites us to the traditionally cooked hangi meal being lifted from the ground. My mouth waters at the smell of succulent chicken and lamb baked with kumara sweet potatoes.
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