CONCERTED EFFORT by G. M. O'Halloran ‘This concert had better be good,’ he heard a truculent young voice say, ‘that's all I can say.’ ‘Yeah, they reckon there's a pakeha joker in it too,’ same the reply. ‘E ki! What does a pakeha joker know about action songs?’ ‘I dunno but that young Kiri's back from Training College and she says some of them pakehas in her club are pretty good.’ From his position inside the hall doorway he watched the speakers as they lounged against the porch uprights. He remembered Kiri saying that the teenagers of her district were not ‘real’ Maoris, and that they had lost all their interest in Maori culture. Maybe tonight their ideas would change. For himself, Maori culture meant nothing to him as such, but as part of a developing New Zealand culture, sure, that was really something. Well, he thought, better have a look backstage and see if Wi and Roy wanted a hand. Must be just about time. He walked through the slowly filling hall, conscious of the stares of the gathering crowd, marking him as a stranger. ‘I just love these Maori concerts, don't you Mavis?’ he heard on the way. ‘Oh yes, but I like the hakas better than the action songs. They're always the same old thing like Manu Rere and all those. But when you see the men with their tongues poking out n'that, I get all goose-pimples!' He moved on thinking, someone else may see something a bit different tonight. ‘Kia-ora koutou,’ he said, raising his voice slightly above the rustle of piupius, ‘how's it going?’ ‘G'day. Wondering whenya goin’ to show up. Taking some Maori time eh? Gotya shorts?' ‘Course he's got them, Kia-ora e hoa, how wouldya be?’ With more good-natured bantering from the rest of the hurriedly-changing concert party, he quickly got into his shorts, and fastening the piupiu Sue had given him, he went over to Roy and Wi to ask them if they wanted a hand with anything. ‘Kia-ora Ruaumoko, all set for the big show?’ He smiled at the nickname Wi had given him. ‘Better have a brandy before you go on boy. Stop the butterflies eh!’ He swallowed the brandy gratefully, and asked if any help was wanted. ‘Kao, she's right mate, you've got enough to worry about anyway. Have another brandy.’ Minutes later in bustled Jacko the emcee. ‘O.K. boys and girls, smokes out, on stage, G'day ‘Ruaumoko’. Give ‘em the news.’ Before he could reply, Jacko was gone, with a grin and a wave, to give Rhoda a hand zipping up her pari. Once on stage he felt the warm glow of the brandy and when Jacko had finished his introductions, he managed to step to the front of the stage with some confidence. ‘He's a pakeha!’ he heard down one side of the hall. ‘He's white!’ he heard down the other. He's a New Zealander, he thought as he went carefully through the motions of explaining the history of the action songs that the party were singing for the audience tonight. ‘Kia kaha e hoa,’ he heard Kiri whisper behind him in the front line of girls. Now he was finished and the concert was under way. The first part of the programme passed in a blur of actions, pois, chants and the exhilaration of singing rhythmically with the ghostly, multi-blob-headed crowd in the hall voicing their approval. Half-time came at last and with the curtain down the party grinned at one another, knowing that the show was going over well. ‘Showing these west coast fellas eh?’ said Mihaka, wiping the sweat from his shining forehead.