The Koru of Times (eBook)

A multi-generational New Zealand novel of M?ori heritage, Love, Loss, and the Resilience of the Human Spirit

Bea Eschen (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2024 | 1. Auflage
312 Seiten
tredition (Verlag)
978-3-384-10490-8 (ISBN)

Infos

The Koru of Times is a multi-generational odyssey that weaves together M?ori heritage, love, loss, and the resilience of the human spirit. Set against the breath-taking backdrop of Aotearoa (New Zealand), this saga follows the trials and triumphs of a M?ori tribe, beginning with Amiri, a brave warrior, and Hahana, their union symbolising tribal unity. But their legacy is one of tragedy. The invasion of European settlers unleashes chaos and shatters Amiri's village. Survival becomes paramount as Hau, a trusted warrior, protects Manaia, daughter of Amiri and Hahana, and leads her together with her care mother to a place near a spring, where they rebuild in the face of adversity. The narrative moves through time to focus on Waiora, Manaia's son of mixed descent, whose thirst for knowledge sparks a journey to reclaim the severed sacred heads of his ancestors from England. London becomes the setting for Waiora's quest, intertwining his destiny with Koa, a helping hand, and Reginald, an unexpected ally. Together they bridge cultures, restore ancestral honour, and forge lasting friendships, crossing barriers in search of reconciliation. The story shifts to Waiora's daughter Hinewai and T?ne, whose love story unfolds in the shadow of Pakeha atrocities during the Gold Rush. Their flight to London, guided by family ties, leads to the establishment of an art business at 55 Proolmise, nurturing indigenous art and a new generation in a foreign land. The next chapter follows Manu Manuka, the sole heir to the prized artefacts shop in London, whose life takes a tumultuous turn when he's wrongly accused of murder. As Manu grapples with imprisonment, a web of deceit and revenge unravels, tracing back to a vengeful carpenter with a deep-seated grudge against M?ori success. His cousin Kahu and wife Hine join the fray, rallying to Manu's side and strengthening M?ori-London relations through their trade in indigenous artefacts. The family expands through the trials of World War I, witnessing Ihaka's artistic expression amid conflict, Rua's tragic sacrifice, and Pare's devoted nursing. Amidst the echoes of war, Ihaka's art becomes a narrative of truth, fuelling the family's fortunes, which have expanded to include Rachel and Elias. But the upheaval of the Second World War leads them to shelter Jewish children, including Eva, when they surrender their mansion-turned-hostel to the military. Determined to protect these displaced souls, Ihaka and his family take thirty-two Jewish children to Hau's village in New Zealand, where they find healing in the protection of the bush and M?ori hospitality. As the family reunites and faces life's trials, Eva and Elias's love blossoms, culminating in the bittersweet realisation of infertility and a rare disease. Fast forward to the present day, Eva anticipates the arrival of her great-grandchild and cherishes her connection to Hau's village and the legacy of hope and resilience it embodies. As the new family lineage unfolds, the youngest generation, Connor and Veronica, uncover a global conspiracy, revealing the enduring spirit of justice and integrity culminating in the anticipation of new life amidst the echoes of history.

Bea Eschen ist gebürtige Deutsche und lebt seit 1984 im Ausland. Momentan ist sie in Sydney, Australien, zuhause. Ihr bisheriges Leben auf den verschiedenen Kontinenten Südafrika, Neuseeland und Australien brachte ihr viele Erfahrungen, die sie zum Schreiben anregen.

Textauszug

Chapter 2

Manaia and Hau

The sky was covered in a thick layer of clouds that promised rain as the villagers went about their daily chores. Suddenly, a sound carried by the wind interrupted their peaceful routine. It was a clicking, a distant clicking interrupted by the occasional creak. The villagers stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening as they listened to the eerie sound.

For a moment, no one moved, the silence deafening as everyone tried to make sense of what they had just heard. Then, as if on cue, everyone dropped what they were doing and ran to the top of the hill overlooking the sea. They ran as fast as they could, their hearts pounding with anticipation. As they reached the top, one by one, out of breath and excited, they began to speak all at once. The air was filled with a cacophony of voices, each trying to convey their excitement at what they had heard. It was chaos, but a beautiful one.

With her eyes fixed on the horizon where the water met the sky, Manaia stood among them. There, in the distance, piercing the surface of the water, was a massive fin belonging to a sperm whale. It was a sight to behold, and Manaia knew she was witnessing something extraordinary. She watched in awe as the whale moved gracefully through the water, its huge body almost touching the clouds. Manaia was spellbound, unable to look away as the whale broke the surface again and again.

Irirangi stood beside her. She, too, was curious about the whale and put her hand to her forehead to block out the light. "The sea brings us good and evil," she whispered.

"What are you saying?" Manaia asked, confused by Irirangi's negativity in this wonderful moment.

Irirangi took Manaia's hand. "Even though the taniwha is not visible, I can feel it coming."

Manaia looked wide-eyed at her care-mother, for whom she had great respect. It had been Irirangi who had found her as a newborn next to her dead mother, and raised her. Irirangi never left her side because she had promised her mother that she would always be there for her and protect her throughout her life.

Manaia was distracted by her father's sudden activity, because for Amiri and his men, the whale's appearance meant immediate action. Without needing any instructions, they all started at the same time. They ran to the sheds where the largest canoes, their whaleboats, were stored. These canoes were the pride of the village. They had been built from the trunks of kauri and were equipped with harpoons, which were long wooden sticks with pointy tips. The harpoons were attached to a long rope made of flax fibre, which was coiled on the deck of the boat.

The whaleboats also had special oars. These were wider and flatter than ordinary oars and decorated with carved symbols of the koru, the sculpted image of an unfurling silver fern that stood for new life, growth, renewal and hope.

With a collective effort, they rolled the canoes down the prepared strip of sand. The strategically placed tree trunks ensured that there would be no delay. The canoes glided over the logs without getting stuck. The noise was deafening, but everything worked as it should. The men worked with a sense of urgency, their muscles straining as they pushed and pulled the canoes towards the water.

Amiri was the first to jump into his canoe, his eyes gleaming with excitement. His men followed, each taking their place in the other two canoes. They knew what to do and they did it with precision and speed.

As they paddled towards the sperm whale, their excitement grew. This was a golden opportunity to bring meat, oil and bones back to the village and they were determined to make the most of it.

The sea was choppy and the wind was against them, but they persevered, their arms pumping with every stroke. They could see the whale in the distance, its massive body moving through the water with ease.

The Māori hunters approached the whale cautiously, not wanting to frighten it. They watched in awe as the creature swam closer and closer, its deep voice echoing through the water. Amiri picked up one of the heavy spears, his grip tightened around the wooden shaft. He was ready for the challenge that lay ahead. With fierce determination, he raised his arm high and let out a loud battle cry, signalling the start of the attack. His men in the other two canoes understood the command and quickly manoeuvred their boats to form a triangle around the massive sperm whale.

The sea was turbulent and the waves high, but the men were undeterred. They paddled as hard as they could, their eyes fixed on the whale, which was now aware of their presence and moving away from them.

"Don’t take your eyes off it!" Amiri shouted out into the spray of wind and water. His men understood. Years of training and experience at sea had prepared them for this glorious moment. They were not to back down now.

The whale was moving fast, its massive tail propelling it through the water, but the determined hunters were gaining on it. Amiri signalled for them to prepare, and as they closed in, he hurled his spear with all his might. The spear sailed through the air, its sharpened point slicing through the water and striking the whale with a resounding thud. The whale let out a deafening roar, and the water around it turned crimson with blood. Amiri's men quickly followed suit, hurling their spears at the wounded whale. The whale thrashed in the water, its massive body turning in anger and pain, but the hunters held their ground, determined to bring it down.

After a long and gruelling battle, the whale finally succumbed to its wounds, its massive body sinking beneath the waves.

They waited for the tide to turn, their eyes glued to the tethered whale as it bobbed up and down in the water beside Amiri's boat. The rain started with a heavy downpour and they were soaked in seconds, but they didn't complain. They were focused on the task at hand, determined to get their catch back to the village.

Finally, the whale's carcass began to drift towards the shore and the men sprang into action again. They used their canoes to guide the carcass towards the beach, and then used their strength and skill to drag the massive creature onto the sand. It was a gruelling process, but the men worked tirelessly, using a combination of ropes, pulleys and logs to move the massive whale up the beach. The women of the village, amongst them Manaia and Irirangi, came to help, pulling on the ropes alongside the men.

After what seemed like an eternity, the whale was where they wanted it to be. The men collapsed onto the sand, their bodies shaking with exhaustion, but their work was far from over. Over the next few days, the men and women of the village worked tirelessly to process the whale, using every part of its body for food, tools, oil and clothing. It was a time of hard work and celebration as the village came together to honour the whale and the spirits of the ocean that had brought it to them.

As the last scraps of blubber were stripped from the whale's bones, Amiri and his men looked out to sea, their hearts filled with gratitude and awe for the power of nature and the gifts it had bestowed upon them.

* * *

Manaia's heart was in weaving. As the daughter of Amiri, the village's fierce warrior chief, she was fortunate to have all the resources she needed. Amiri's house had grown over the years as he had added two new rooms. One of the rooms was occupied by Irirangi, Manaia's care-mother.

Although Amiri had never fallen in love with Irirangi, he respected her greatly for her spiritual wisdom and unwavering devotion to Manaia.

The other room in the house was Manaia's weaving room. Here she spent most of her time creating the most exquisite baskets, mats,

jewellery, wall hangings and clothing. Irirangi assisted Manaia in harvesting the flax leaves and then they worked together to strip and clean the fibres. They softened the fibres by beating them with a mallet and soaking them in water. Then, Manaia worked her magic by knotting, braiding or twisting the softened fibres into beautiful objects.

As Manaia deftly weaved the flax fibres together, Irirangi spun tales of legendary beauty and a love that knew no bounds. Manaia’s deceased mother, Hahana, was the centre of these stories, and each one was more captivating than the last. The young woman listened intently, drawing inspiration from the love that had blossomed between her parents.

But Manaia hungered for more. "Tell me again what happened on the day I was born", the young woman asked gently. She knew her ageing caremother didn’t like to talk about the events of that day.

"Do you want to see me sad for the rest of the day?" Irirangi asked.

"No."

"I’d rather have you enjoy what you are doing, than being told about the sad events of the past."

"But we share the past. You grew up with my mother in this village which is my home too. You were her soul mate, as you are now mine, and you found her dead under that tree with me by her side."

Irirangi stood up slowly. "Let me brush your hair."

Manaia sensed that there was an unspoken weight in Irirangi's words. It was a feeling that went beyond their typical daily conversations, a sense of something deep-seated and confidential that demanded to be heard. The soothing strokes of Irirangi’s brush let the young woman settle into a stage of calm anticipation.

"The taniwha" Irirangi started with a shaky voice, "I could feel the spirit of the taniwha, the water demon, when I looked over the ocean to see the whale. It is the same feeling I had when I had the dream which...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 2.1.2024
• Verlagsort: Ahrensburg
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Geisteswissenschaften ► Geschichte
• Schlagworte: ancestors • Aotearoa • ART • Bay of Islands • Beliefs • Betayal • Children's Transport • Cold Case • Colonialism • corruption and greed • cultural oppression • Cultures • Education • endurance • European settlers • family legacy • fate • Fiction with historic background • generational • Gold rush • Heritage • Heritage Appreciation • History of New Zealand • Indigenous Art • London • Love • Maori • Maori Village • Message in a Bottle • New Zealand • Otiaka • Pakeha • Reading • Resilience • sacred heads • Taniwha • Traditions • Tribe • Water Demon • World Wars
• ISBN-10: 3-384-10490-0 / 3384104900
• ISBN-13: 978-3-384-10490-8 / 9783384104908