THE TWO TRAVELLERS

Te Ao Hou, December 1961, Page 1

THE TWO TRAVELLERS With Te Ao Hou now in its tenth year, it is perhaps possible to look back and consider what a magazine like this can do for the Maori people. A magazine editor, visiting Maori communities and meetings, is always the odd man out. He does not come to speak, although he may sometimes say a few words to make himself known. He does not come exactly as an official, for he cannot deal directly with people's land or housing or money troubles. As he really only comes to listen and belongs to a paper, many people call him reporter. They will grin at him and ask: ‘Did you get a lot of good stuff? Did you fill your notebook?’ But again, the editor is not exactly a reporter either. When he hears those cheery questions, he feels a little guilty. As likely as not, his notebook contains no more than a few names and addresses. What then does an editor do and what use is he to the Maori people? His real job is to get people to write down their own stories. Perhaps this can be best explained by a brief tale. Two commercial travellers went around selling gramophone records. One of them loaded his van with all the best records, modern, classical, rock and roll, Caribbean, old hat, everything. And as he went from place to place, he played these records to the people. He did a reasonably good trade, but he had a lot of bad luck too. For instance he would see a very solemn old gentleman and he would say to him: Would you like to hear one of my records? and he would put on a hymn. But the old gentleman would turn it down: ‘Sorry, all I am interested in is pop singers, old fellow,’ said the gentleman, and that was that. So this salesman wasted a lot of time playing people music which they did not want to hear. The second traveller took nothing with him except a tape recorder and a few blank discs. When he went to see people, he said to them: ‘Will you sing me a song, old fellow?’ The people were always very glad to do this. He would then quickly cut a gramophone disc with their own song on it, which the people would naturally buy with great pleasure. When this traveller met the solemn old gentleman I have just mentioned, he also said to him: ‘Well, I suppose you would like me to record a hymn for you?’ And the old gentleman said ‘No, I never sing them. But I can do some pop singing if you like’. He did this, and an awful falsetto voice the old gentleman had, too, but never mind, the record was made and the old gentleman bought it. Naturally, this second traveller was very popular, and many of the songs he collected were really good. Now the editor of Te Ao Hou resembles this second traveller: he does not go around selling favourite stories and ideas, but rather he gets the people to give him their own songs, their own stories and ideas, and he then makes a permanent record of them all. He gives the Maori people the opportunity to hear their own voice. E. G. Schwimmer