NZ and AUS day 8: In which I learn to spell

Well, it turns out that I’ve been spelling Auckland wrong this whole time.  Now I know.

We began our day with the Wētā Workshop Unleashed tour.  I fully expected it to be a complete tourist trap and cheesy.  There were parts of it that were, in fact, cheesy, but it was a good time (except for the minute during which I walked through the horror experience devoutly hoping that nothing was going to jump out at me).  Here is one of the many clever signs:

 

Brent was unclear on the concept of looking like this inhabited box was attacking him.  I love him anyway.

 

There was plenty to see and experience.  Oliver, our tour guide, is an animator himself in his time when he isn’t working.  At first, I thought that he had some kind of cool hybrid job in which he led tours some of the time and worked on special effects projects the rest of the time, but no; at present, that job does not seem to exist.

 

Brent, very smartly, had suggested we get tickets for the hop-on/hop-off bus.  Once we were done with our tour, we hopped back on and rode to the Auckland Museum (sometimes called the War Memorial Museum).  This was the place I most wanted to go here because I wanted to learn more about Maori culture and art.

 

The Māori Cultural Performance at the museum was a great start.  The performers took the audience out of our cultural assumptions and introduced us to a different way of being.  The two front rows of the theater were reserved for the ancestors and we were not supposed to walk in front of them or take their places.  They explained to us that applause is not part of their culture, that it is a way of colonizing them into thinking that their worth comes from our actions rather than something they have inherently from birth.  Instead, we were to share our energy with them by vibrating our hands and by placing a hand on our hearts.  The music and dance and story were all fascinating, moving, and beautiful.  Also well out of my normal experience.  Sometimes I think that this kind of cultural experience can be something between a freak show and a zoo; this was not that, but rather a well-bounded invitation from the performers to learn about their way of being in the world.  It was inspiring.

 

We also saw an exhibit of amazing wildlife photography.  I wasn’t allowed to take pictures and I forgot to go back to the shop, so no evidence, but it was great.

 

The war memorial part of the museum was, to me, just flat-out depressing.  So many people dead.  The Great War, the second World War, the Boer War, the New Zealand War:  a long tale of mostly young men killed.  The acts of colonialism are frankly unforgivable.  I am so tired of reading about the perfidy of colonial settlers and governments in dealing with indigenous people.  We really have to do better.  My peacenik self has been reactivated.

 

There was not enough time to see everything thoroughly.  I liked these shapes:

 

I liked these butterflies:

Also these dragons:

 

More specifically New Zealand items included this carving:

 

I liked the textures of this bag and bowl:

And the bold pattern of this textile made me happy:

We hopped back on the last possible bus.  More tomorrow!