I am off on a tangent again. Supposed to be researching another subject, I am distracted by matters Maori. This is from the
1990 New Zealand Yearbook:
The ‘native race’
The New Zealand Wars were hardly over when the Vogel period of immigration and public works began.
Many potential immigrants must still have remembered reading of the wars when they weighed up the possibilities of emigrating to New Zealand, and the 1875 Handbook was published largely to attract these immigrants to the new country. However, in allaying fears of warlike Maori, it took liberties which today may well be seen as patronising and based on ignorance. It informed readers that:
As a rule, Maoris are middle-sized and well-formed, the average height of the man being 5 ft. 6 in.; the bodies and arms being longer than those of the average Englishmen, but the leg bones being shorter, and the calves largely developed.* The skin is of an olive-brown colour, and the hair generally black; the teeth are good, except among the tribes who live in the sulphurous regions about the Hot Lakes, near the centre of the North Island; but the eyes are bleared, possibly from the amount of smoke to which they are exposed in “whares,” or cabins, destitute of chimneys. The voice is pleasant, and, when warlike excitement has not roused him to frenzy, every gesture of the Maori is graceful. Nothing can be more dignified than the bearing of chiefs assembled at a “runanga,” or council, and this peculiar composure they preserve when they adopt European habits and custom, always appearing at ease, even in the midst of what would seem a most incongruous assembly. In bodily powers, the Englishman has the advantage. As a carrier of heavy burdens, the native is the superior; but in exercises of strength and endurance, the average Englishman surpasses the average Maori. As to the character of the natives, it must be remembered—if most opposite and contradictory qualities are ascribed to them—that they are in a transition state. Some of the chiefs are with the exception of colour and language, almost Europeans; others conform, when in towns, to the dress and the customs of white men, but resume native ways, and the blanket as the sole garment, as soon as they return to the “kainga,” or native village. The great majority have ideas partly European, partly Maori; while a small section, professing to adhere to old Maori ways, depart from them so far as to buy or to procure articles of European manufacture, whenever they can do so. They are excitable and superstitious, easily worked upon at times by any one who holds the key to their inclinations and who can influence them by appeals to their traditionary legends; while at other times they are obstinate and self willed, whether for good or for evil. As is usual with races that have not a written language, they possess wonderful memories; and when discussing any subject, they cite or refer to precedent after precedent. They are fond of such discussions; for many a Maori is a natural orator, with an easy flow of words, and a delight in allegories which are often highly poetical They are brave, yet are liable to groundless panics. They are by turns open-handed and most liberal, and shamelessly mean and stingy. They have no word or phrase equivalent to gratitude, yet they possess the quality. Grief is with them reduced to a ceremony, and tears are produced at will. In their persons they are slovenly or clean according to humour; and they are fond of finery, chiefly of the gaudiest kind. They are indolent or energetic by turns. During planting time, men women, and children labour energetically; but during the rest of the year they will work or idle as the mood takes them. When they do commence a piece of work, they go through with it well; and in roadmaking they exhibit a fair amount of engineering skill.
I worked in Glasgow periodically in the 1980s so retain an interest. Headlines from The Scotsman arrive daily by e-mail. This story about a Russian refugee family that fell from a 15th floor is awful but it was the accompanying image that caught me.
I suppose in their favour these Scottish blocks are at least well-spaced providing some daylight and view. My psyche craves physical space and light and a horizon. Personally I would rather be in flat with an unimpeded view than in a pokey terrace house with a garden the size of a postage stamp. But the flats are earmarked for demolition. What will replace them I wonder?
