Yearly Archives: 2010

A stark reminder about the need for care with herbal medicine

Contributed Articles

This note was sent in by one of our group, who will remain anonymous. However this person is well trained as a medical herbalist both here in New Zealand and overseas. This is her story.

“I ended up in hospital after mixing up a concoction that also included some Rumex Neglectus/Maori dock. It is a rare species, an unusual dock that is threatened so I have been giving it lots of  TLC.   I had been putting leaves in salad and really enjoying it, tastes like sorrel. So next I (unwisely) JUICED 4 leaves in with carrot and celery and beetroot and cucumber. Tasted great, but the concentrated juice (without fibre to slow its process) was a poison which caused me to start going into anaphylactic shock. The next day is was in A&E, having ecgs, blood tests and a hydration drip with many worried family members. I consider myself very lucky -I saw my life passing before my eyes. 2 weeks later I have just had my first few ‘normal’ days and so very glad to be alive. It hasn’t put me off foraging one bit, but has made me a lot more conscious about what I am doing with the native plants, and a lot more TRUSTING that others who have done this longer, might know better than me. I read (after the event) that dock is edible only when well-cooked. I’d gotten away with it raw in salads, and should have realised that juicing (taking the fibre out) would concentrate its oxylates dangerously. A bit like juicing rhubarb leaves I think.”

Thank you for sharing your story us and the reminder it provides for us to never assume that because it is natural it is harmless or that just because something is harmless to eat when prepared a certain way it will remain harmless if we modify the way we prepare it. Think also karaka berries, tutu juice etc…

The impacts of the loss of biodiversity on the continuation of rongoā Māori (traditional Māori medicine)

Contributed Articles

Presented by Rob McGowan in Dunedin 25 November 2010

One of the issues that is a growing concern to practitioners of rongoā Māori is the growing difficulty in accessing the plants they need for their rongoā (medicine). This has a number of serious consequences; one of course is that rongoā are not available; another, not often considered, is that the mātauranga (traditional knowledge) concerning certain rākau (plants and trees) is gradually being lost: the plants are not available to keep that mātauranga alive. As a result more and more knowledge is being lost with the passing of each of the old healers. There has been a tremendous amount of work, particularly with the Treaty of Waitangi claim Wai 262, to protect the IP (intellectual property) issues surrounding rongoā. That is very important, but there has been much less attention to, let alone realization of, the fading plant resource.

This presentation will outline some of the reasons for the loss of species used for rongoā, and suggest ways in which the situation can be addressed.

 Introduction:

 The “State of the Environment” report issued in 2007 records the continuing decline in New Zealand’s biodiversity. In particular the report notes that “Over the last 200 years, much of New Zealand’s most accessible and productive land has been cleared or modified for a range of different land uses, such as agriculture, horticulture, roading and human settlement. As a result many of our lowland and coastal forests, lowland grasslands, wetlands, dunelands, and estuaries have been modified. These habitats and ecosystems are particularly at risk of being modified further if they occur on, or are adjacent to, prime agricultural and horticultural land”[1]

 The decline of New Zealand’s biodiversity is the subject of much research and discussion. However what are the impacts of this decline in biodiversity on rongoa Maori, both its continuing use, and the matauranga, the knowledge base, that has developed over the centuries concerning rongoa Maori, in particular those aspects of rongoa which involve the harvesting and uses of plant material?

 That is the focus of this presentation. Experience suggests that when practitioners of rongoa are no longer able, over a period of time, to access the plants they have traditionally used, the knowledge surrounding that use gradually fades. This particularly is the case with the intergenerational transmission of matauranga. Knowledge is lost with the passing of each generation of healers.

 The following presentation does not come out of a carefully planned research programme. It is the result of years of day to day involvement with rongoa Maori. It reflects many decades of  working with traditional healers throughout the country, years of using rongoa and preparing it  for others, and in the last 20 years, the experience of  helping to pass on the traditions and knowledge of rongoa Maori, traditional Maori medicine.

 What it hopes to do is highlight some very fundamental issues that are currently very often talked about by people who work with rongoa, with the hope that it will share their concerns with a much broader group of people, people who, hopefully, will come to regard these issues as something that requires serious attention, and are in a position, in time, to contribute towards addressing them.

Wai 262:

 There is a lot of concern and a lot happening to retain the matauranga relating to rongoa Maori, and major efforts to protect it; Wai 262 still awaits the Waitangi Tribunal’s report, after so many years. In the claim there is a major focus on Intellectual Property issues, and the legal framework necessary to safeguard matauranga Maori. However it is my contention that even more urgent is the need to ensure that the species traditionally used by Maori, for many uses including  rongoa, continue to be available. The “Environment New Zealand 2007” report, and numerous other reports in recent times, on the state of New Zealand’s biodiversity, would suggest that this is a matter that cannot be taken for granted. The loss of the plant resource, and the resulting loss of the matauranga associated with those uses, is itself an important dimension to be considered by the Tribunal.

 We are not primarily talking about historic matauranga, carefully recorded by explorers, ethnographers, enthobotanists, etc., over the last 200 years. We are talking about matauranga that continues to live on in the lives and practices of practitioners, who carry on the practices of those who have gone before them, and adapt and extend them to meet the needs of an ever changing world.

 There are many dimensions to rongoa Maori. In this paper the focus is particularly on the harvesting and use of plants for medicine, but the term is much broader than that, and plant use is not the most important part of traditional Maori medicine. I am constantly reminded by kaumatua from different iwi that the foundation or rongoa is not rakau, trees and plants, but taha wairua, something spiritual. That is the case now as it ever was. However, having said that, matauranga Maori has at its foundation its connection to the natural world, te Wao nui a Tane, and if that connection is not kept alive, Maori culture itself will slowly lose its meaning and relevance.

 That applies particularly to rongoa; Maori in the 21st century are an urban dwelling people. Rongoa Maori is an important vehicle in retaining that connection to the whenua and to the ngahere. But it is not just a spiritual, intellectual, psychological or emotional concept. The physical act of going to the ngahere, the bush, to collect rongoa has a much wider significance than the medical properties particular rongoa may contain. It is representative of the connection between the children of Tane and Papatuanuku, the Earth Mother, and collection of rongoa gives expression to that connection. If the rongoa plants are not longer readily accessible that connection starts to become increasingly tenuous. Many present day Maori have little knowledge of the ngahere, and have little or no involvement with it. The continuation of the practices associated with rongoa, as traditionally understood by Maori, are key to retention of the matauranga that is associated with it.

 However, as the following comments will show, that access to rongoa is increasingly in doubt.

Getting in touch with the reality: outlining the issues:

 Some years ago I had happened to visit the far North during several successive springs. That pleased me at the time; there is lots of kumarahou (Pomaderris kumeraho) in the North, and that is a rongoa much prized, but for people living further South, usually difficult to obtain. And so as I travelled North I would always look for Kumarahou, and sometimes collect some to take home. Over the years it became harder and harder to find; for some reason it was quietly disappearing from the landscape. That’s not surprising when one knows the ecology of the plant; it is a pioneer species, one of the first to come up after a fire or a slip, or when a forest is logged. As soon as it becomes shaded by the species that succeed it, it disappears. But what was happening at the time is that in places where I used to find kumarahou it was not other native trees and shrubs succeeding them, as was the norm in the past, but a host of exotic weed species; blackberry, gorse, woolly nightshade/tobacco weed, ginger, and so many more that were invading the landscape.  Kumarahou was being displaced, squeezed out, by weeds.

 Along with that something more was happening. When asked about kumarahou more and more people were saying things like; “My nannies used to use kumarahou a lot but we don’t do that now; it’s getting hard to find”. Once the plant is lost soon the memories of the plant begin to fade; matauranga is lost. That is a major issue that needs to be addressed.

 Contemporary use of rongoa Maori:

 The use of rongoa Maori is not receding; in fact it is experiencing a real resurgence. This is happening for a number of reasons.

 The first is the cost factor; modern medicine is becoming more and more expensive, and many individuals and especially families are not able to afford the medications proscribed by medical professionals. As a result more and more people look to other ways of addressing their needs. Rongoa at times does provide an available alternative. This is sometimes compounded by a loss of confidence in pharmaceutical medicines. There is a fear of side-effects and the possibility of addictions.

 A further reason is that the use of traditional Maori medicines can be an assertion of Maori identity.

 There are two major issues:

 The first is that the plants traditionally used for rongoa are becoming increasingly hard to find in many parts of the country. A map of the vegetation of New Zealand highlights the fact that the areas most deplete in indigenous species is where most people live; and consequently, where there is likely to be the greatest call for rongoa.

 The second follows from that; when the healers can’t find the plants they need they cease to use them, and often don’t pass on their knowledge about those plants, in the way that they themselves learnt, to those that will carry on the traditions after them; in time more and more matauranga is being lost.

 This paper will first briefly explore some of the reasons why rongoa plants are disappearing, and the consequences of that. Once that has been discussed, some practical suggestions are made to address the situation.

 Obviously this is too big a question to be dealt with in this short paper. The aim of the paper is to bring the issue to people’s attention. Hopefully enough will be said to catch people’s interest, and this will stimulate some, with a range of abilities and skills, to contribute towards exploring the question more fully, and especially, direct some of their energy into contributing to its solution.

 Reasons for the disappearance of rongoa plants:

 1.       Where to find rongoa:

 A big number of the species used for rongoa are found in the regenerating fringe of the forest. A traditional way of describing the situation is to say that the plants that heal the land are also the ones that heal the people who live on the land. (Often the best way to work out the medicinal properties of a plant is try and understand what the role that plant has in the process of regeneration, and then to look for ways of applying that to healing sicknesses in people and animals). On open ground these species are the first stage of the regeneration of the landscape. A good example is the way tutu (Coriaria arborea) colonized areas covered by pumice and ash after the Tarawera eruption in 1886.

 In an established landscape these are often the species that make up the fringe that protects the species that grow within it. (In Whanganui the term  te totarahoe is used to describe this part of the ngahere). They keep the wind and sun out so that the canopy species within can stand tall and strong and the subcanopy species beneath them can thrive in the protected environment. In a healthy forest the fringe is constantly renewing and extending itself, so that usually most of the species involved continue to persist in the landscape.

 It is a natural process; it varies in different parts of the country, according to climate, altitude, geology, and local biodiversity, etc., but there is always a range of species that fulfils this role, and amongst these are found many of the main species that were traditionally used for rongoa.

 But a quick look at the forest fringe in most parts of the country these days will show a very different scenario. Where once would have been found a range of indigenous species; manuka, kanuka, tutu, kumarahou, mamaku, mingimingi, karamu, etc. one is more likely to find exotic species; gorse, blackberry, cotoneaster, wattle, pine, especially Pinus contorta, ginger, woolly nightshade, morning glory; the species vary around the country but for much of New Zealand, particularly the further north one goes, exotic weed species dominate not just the landscape fringes, but even large areas of regeneration.

 Some species will in time give way to indigenous species; gorse often proves to be a very useful nurse plant for a returning forest. But very often the exotic species increasingly dominate the landscape, and a succession of indigenous species disappear. Some weed species, Japanese honeysuckle for instance, prevent any other species from re-establishing and can lead to a monoculture. Among the indigenous species that are lost are a number of species important for rongoa.

 2.       Many of the plants used for rongoa are very palatable:

 Some years ago I was in Pureora forest in Central North Island.  I remarked to the local DOC workers who I was with that there was a lot of raurekau, but they all seemed to be about the same age. My guess at the time was that they were about 6 to 7 years old. My mates laughed; they told me that was about how long since there had been a 1080 drop. That had knocked out the deer that ring barked the mature trees, and ate any seedlings, and the rats and mice that ate the seeds.

 Plants like raurekau, also known as manono or kanono, karamu, makomako, hangehange and many others are often described as “ice-cream” to many animals. The practice of turning stock into the bush over the winter still persists, and that, with various feral species such as deer, goats, wallabies, is eliminating more and more species. In many places the understory of the forest is best described as a desert.  The affect is exacerbated  by the effect that canopy grazing species, particularly possums, have on the canopy. A further contribution to the decline of the forest is the effect of rodents, rats and mice, eating the seed that falls to the ground.

 Again, a number of species traditionally used for rongoa, gradually disappear from the landscape.

 Consequences of the loss of rongoa species:

 The first role of the rongoa plants is to heal the whenua, the land itself. It is easy to forget this. We are so worried about our own concerns, our needs, or sicknesses and injuries that we easily fall into the way of thinking that everything in creation is for our own personal use. We are much less important than that; in fact, as healers, our first patient is the land itself; our first duty is to heal Papatuanuku. It is only when the land itself is well can it heal the living things that belong to the land, ourselves included.

 The plants used traditionally for rongoa have a key role in helping the land recover from the many natural events that have always happened. The recent earthquake in Christchurch, the many flood events that happen each year, the droughts, high winds, and fires are most often natural processes; the various plant species that recloth the land repair the damage so that life can continue to thrive. The affect of the loss of the indigenous species that repair the damage is much researched and well documented.

 In many parts of the country the seed trees have long since disappeared, the seed bank in the soil is depleted or even totally exhausted, so that the land is incapable of responding to the urgency of a natural disaster. Search the roadsides and hillsides of parts of Hawkes Bay, Waikato, Canterbury for even the most common reveg species and one will be often disappointed; they have disappeared from the landscape.

 The birds and insects that depend on the trees also disappear, so even if the plant species do in fact survive, that is of little benefit if the species that pollinate them, or distribute their seeds, are no longer present. Admittedly many New Zealand indigenous species are self pollinating or wind pollinated, and many seeds are wind or water dispersed, but insect and bird pollination, and bird distribution of seeds play a significant role in the maintenance of biodiversity and the restoration of a landscape.

 Other factors:

 Pollution, contamination issues:

 A final issue needs to be introduced. Even when rongoa plants do survive in the landscape they may not be safe to harvest; they are often contaminated in some way. A good example are plants that grow on the edge of a road. That may be the only place where some species survive in an area, but often they are covered in dust, affected by fumes, and contaminated by the rubbish that people throw out of their car windows. Waterways may be contaminated by a range of pollutants, and remnants of bush, often in unfarmable gullies, are used as rubbish dumps. Thee are a range of cultural issues which also result in some areas being unsuitable for harvesting. The presence of certain wahi tapu is an example of this.

 Traditionally healers were very careful in selecting sites for harvesting rongoa. Many a time healers will return home empty handed, because they are unable to find rongoa that meet their careful criteria. That is becoming an increasingly common event.

 Practical responses:

The purposed of this paper is to highlight the impact of the decline of diversity on the retention of the matauranga relating to rongoa Maori. It is an issue that warrants much more substantial treatment than this brief presentation. However it is worth noting some practical possibilities to address the issues raised.

 1.     Rongoa species make a good tool for monitoring biodiversity:

 Because some of the many species used for rongoa are part of the regenerating fringe of the forest their presence or absence, can, in itself, be a very good indication of the health of a local forest remnant, riparian area, etc. Often when it is only when one starts to look for rongoa that one realizes how profound the decline of biodiversity may be. Some parts of the country have large areas of manuka with little else thriving. A manuka forest should have a host of other species within it, working towards succeeding the manuka. In many cases this is unlikely to happen, because of the factors already outlined.

 2.     Restoration plantings:

 There is a major effort throughout the country to restore indigenous vegetation to the landscape, on roadsides, riparian areas, restoration projects on land set aside for conservation. Traditionally the bulk of the plantings have consisted of those species that are easy and quick to propagate and grow on in a nursery, and reliable to plant in a landscape. That has often meant a relatively narrow range of species is used, and not necessarily species historically present in a particular landscape.

 It is important that species selected for a particular restoration site represent the range of species that were historically present on the site. That would include some species that might be slower, and more expensive to propagate and establish. By doing that not only would a site once again be covered with the original indigenous species, rather than exotic species, but  the avian and invertebrate biodiversity may also stand a chance of being re-established.

 That in turn would help re-establish a resource for use for rongoa, and help ensure that the local knowledge relating to rongoa be passed on.

 3.     Planting for rongoa:

 In many parts of the country, particularly those areas where there is a significant Maori population, it may be necessary to plant up areas specifically for use as rongoa. This is not a new idea; there are historical examples of this happening in pre-colonial times. However modern realities suggest that this be done on a much more substantial scale than in the past.

 It is important to remember that rongoa plants are part of a landscape; traditional practice suggests that their medicinal properties in plants relate in many cases to the environment in which they grow, and the species with which they grow. That is why many rongoa practitioners insist, as far as possible that rongoa be collected from the local ngahere.

 Companion planting isn’t a new invention. We have become used to a landscape dominated by monocultures of useful species, kiwifruit, applies, kumara, echinacea, etc. That is not the way to grow plants for rongoa. In establishing a rongoa garden we need to take note of the natural associations of species, and try and reflect that in our own plantings, to gain maximum benefit for the landscape, and all the species that are part of the landscape, ourselves included.

 4.     Maintaining matauranga rongoa:

 Most present day New Zealanders, Maori included, have little knowledge of the ngahere. Twenty years of involvement in teaching rongoa has shown that very few people can identify the most of the plants used for rongoa, let alone have an understanding of traditional ways of harvesting rongoa to ensure that it is done sustainably.  A rongoa clinic can quickly exhaust local resources in a very short time, and this is happening.

 If rongoa Maori is to survive there needs to be a very positive programme to reconnect people to the environment. It needs to be something that begins in the kohanga reo, and continues right through the education process. Country living people can more readily come to an appreciation of how totally they depend on the well being of the landscape for their own health and well being. City people are just as dependent; everybody needs clean air and water, and regular healthy food to survive. However it all seems rather remote and something taken for granted if one lives a busy city life.

 It is easy to learn about the traditional uses of plants for medicine; there are various publications that are very helpful. But rongoa Maori is not just about information, collecting and using data; it’s about the living connection between ourselves and the living world of the forest. That can only be gained by going into the forest and getting to know it as a friend, with all of its changes and moods, in all of the seasons. It can’t be done quickly, but it is the right place to learn; it is “te Wananga nui a Tane”.

 For that we need a healthy forest.

 One could say that modern cites are the most devastating monoculture that the planet has ever known.

[1] Environment New Zealand 2007, Published by the Ministry for the Environment, December 2007, p. 353

Gorse Flower Cordial Recipe

Contributed Articles, Recipes - Kai

From:  Wild food guide to the edible plants of Britain

It was a cold and frosty late afternoon on December 30th when Zillah and I decided to go chasing Gorse flowers. Vibrantly bright, Gorse certainly isn’t a timid plant. I love to graze on Gorse flowers when I walk. The sweet nectar that hides itself away at the bottom of the bud trickles onto my taste buds.

Today we gathered enough Gorse flowers to make a gorgeous Mid-Winter cordial you can have as a refreshing drink, or why not try it dribbled liberally over ice-cream.

A sweet, delicate cordial that becomes infused with the subtle coconut flavour of Gorse. It’s actually best to make this recipe in the Spring time when the flavour of the Gorse flowers is stronger. But we couldn’t resist this Mid-Winter treat, and although the flavour wasn’t as strong as in Spring time, it still makes a lovely drink.

Ingredients

  • 600ml/21fl oz cold water
  • 250g/1/2lb caster sugar
  • Zest: 1 orange
  • Juice: 1 lemon

Step 1

Gather 4 large handfuls of Gorse flowers.

Step 2

Measure out 250g/1/2lb of caster sugar.

Step 3

Measure out 600ml/21fl oz of cold water.

Step 4

Bring the water and sugar mixture to a rapid boil and keep boiling for 10 minutes. Remove pan from the heat.

Step 5

Juice 1 lemon

Step 6

Grate the zest of 1 orange.

Step 7

Measure 4 handfuls of Gorse flowers.

Step 8

Add the lemon juice, orange zest, and Gorse flowers to the sugar water (syrup). Stir in well and leave until cooled or overnight.

Step 9

Strain the liquid through muslin or a jelly bag into a clean container such as a glass jug.

Step 10

You should end up with roughly 500ml/18fl oz of liquid.

Step 11

Pour into a sterile bottle, cap and store. Refrigerate once you have given into temptation. Enjoy your Gorse flower cordial syrup.

Many thanks to Treena Gowthorpe for submitting this

Rob McGowan NZAMH Conference; 29-30th May 2010

About Rongoa, Contributed Articles

New Zealand Association of Medical Herbalists AGM Conference; 29-30th May 2010

Paper presented by Rob McGowan

 Growing the connection between Rongoa Maori, traditional Maori medicine and New Zealand herbal medicine.

Some years ago it seemed to me that one of the big challenges facing New Zealand herbalists was to learn to incorporate New Zealand plants into their practice. In my understanding of traditional medicine one of the key principles is to use what the land provides. Time and time again I have heard traditional healers from many cultures insist that everything one might need to be well was around you.

 That seems very sensible and practical, yet not to many years ago it seemed that the majority of New Zealand herbalists used only plant material from species that belonged to other lands outside of New Zealand. Even those herbalists who made their own preparations used species exotic to New Zealand. What made that even more difficult to understand was that some species that were very much used were threatened with extinction, sometimes caused by over harvesting, even though in some cases there are effective alternatives readily available amongst New Zealand’s indigenous flora. A further factor was that it was also, and remains, often difficult to source from overseas, good quality material, even for more common species

 That was the situation not many years ago. There has been solid progress made in addressing that challenge in recent years. There is a much greater awareness and understanding of New Zealand native plants and their medicinal uses, and this is gradually finding expression in New Zealand herbal medicine. Furthermore more and more people are on the journey of learning about rongoa Maori, traditional Maori medicine.

 However there is a difference between traditional Maori medicine and plants used traditionally by Maori for medicine. The focus is very much on the latter, on the plants traditionally used, their properties, preparation and uses, rather than the whole complex of knowledge and practice which is at the basis of rongoa Maori. Sometimes there is much enthusiasm for learning the traditional uses of plants, but much less for the tikanga – the protocols and practices surrounding those uses.

 That is understandable, given the cultural differences between peoples, and the practical nature of herbal practices, focused as it is on providing healing and comfort to people. But the focus of traditional medicine, regardless of culture, is the healing of people, not just the healing of the sicknesses that may trouble them at a particular point in time, and this happens within the context of the community in which the patient lives and belongs. It is within this broader context that is found the foundation of traditional medicine, not just in New Zealand, and it is this broader context that to me is most urgently in need of attention.

 Wai 262:

That does not appear to be happening at the moment. There is much attention on the commercial possibilities of plants used traditionally as medicines. Again that is not confined to New Zealand. Even Wai 262, the Flora and Fauna Claim at present being considered by the Waitangi Tribunal, to a large extent focuses on ensuring that the commercial potential of New Zealand’s flora and fauna is not captured by non Maori, and non New Zealand commercial entities, to the detriment of Maori and New Zealanders as a whole. The feeling is that Maori, like most indigenous peoples who have been colonized, have lost much or most of their resources to the extent that they no longer are able to provide for themselves a reasonable standard of living, and that it is critical that they secure effective control over what little remains.

 Much of the discussion, and much of the draft response from those acting on behalf of the Crown, focuses on Intellectual Property Rights and finding a pathway through the intricacies of commercial law to ensure that the concerns of the Treaty claimants are met in a fair and practical way. It is worth noting that the Wai 262 claim is likely to provide a significant contribution internationally, to the development of law surrounding the Intellectual Property rights of indigenous peoples.

 However I think that in focusing on Intellectual Property rights both the claimants and the Crown are paying insufficient attention to an even more important dimension. That dimension is not about ownership but kaitiakitanga, guardianship (that in itself an inadequate translation but sufficient for now). The major health crises facing the human race is not the plethora of diseases that inundate the world’s medical resources but the health of the planet itself.

 How can we expect to be healthy when the world itself is increasingly unhealthy; when the water we drink needs to be made safe by the use of chemicals that in themselves contribute to the decline of health, when the air we breath is far from pure, when the soils in which we grow our foods are increasingly demineralised and lack many of the nutrients we need, and even the best of foods, because of the contamination of groundwaters and rainwaters as a result of human activity, is laced with a  mix of chemicals that in time, can erode health. The concern of the kaumatua behind Wai 262 was not so much the danger of losing commercial opportunities, but the damage that commercial exploitation can do to New Zealand’s flora and fauna.

 The first patient for the traditional healer is to heal the land itself. It is interesting that so many traditional cultures regard the earth as Mother; in the Western World we talk about “Mother Earth”. Maori refer to her as Papatuanuku, and is at the beginning of all whakapapa/genealogies. If the Earth is healthy and well, she can care for us, can provide for us, can keep us well.

 The biggest concern of the Wai 262 claimants is not that other peoples may reap the benefits from exploiting the flora and fauna of Aotearoa, but that they will damage those taonga, the treasures that our land provides, to the extent that they will lose their power to keep us well. It is easy to see that a mine or a hydro scheme can devastate a landscape; to Maori the commercial exploitation of living creatures, be they plant or animal, and in this we can include people, has a similar, if less visible effect. It fundamentally damages their Mauri, their gift of life, and in doing so compromises their ability to share that gift, to give health and healing. That is no fantasy; there are ample scientific tests that demonstrate that modern cultivars developed for industrial scale horticulture, have often lost many of the micronutrients so important for good health.

 I think that if we really want to learn about traditional Maori medicine and incorporate it into our practice, we need to ask fewer questions and listen much more carefully. Often elders are unwilling to share their knowledge because they fear that others will use their knowledge without the care and respect to ensure its integrity, and the wellbeing of the taonga we look to use. We are so good at asking questions about what we want to know; often our elders would rather spend their failing time and energy in telling us what we need to know. When it comes to research often we much older people have not yet shed the ways of teenagers.

I remember very clearly many years ago meeting a kaumatua in Whanganui who was said to be an expert on rongoa Maori. He was exactly the sort of person I was most anxious to talk to, and quickly started asking him about some of the plants about us at the time. He very smartly told me that he had mostly given up using plants and that his focus was actually on taha wairua. I was greatly disappointed, particularly because I had been given the same answer a number of times already by different kaumatua along the Whanganui River. It wasn’t just because I was a priest at the time, and was expected to be more able to focus on the spiritual dimensions involved in healing; it was how they actually saw things; the source of illness, and healing begins at a much deeper level than the physical. That was more than 30 years ago. It has taken me much of the intervening time to slowly realize that in fact the foundation of rongoa Maori was not rakau – trees and plants, but wairua, something much deeper more comprehensive.

 What I hope to do over the next few moments is explain something of what that means, and how that can contribute to developing the theme of this presentation “Growing the connection between Rongoa Maori, traditional Maori medicine and New Zealand herbal medicine”. What is needed is some insights into the traditional Maori understanding of health and healing, and then how traditionally that was achieved.

Rongoa Maori wananga:

Over the last nearly twenty years I have run many hundreds of workshops and wananga on rongoa Maori. Rather than try and give you a list of definitions and terms that are used I thought it might be easier to walk you through the programme for such a workshop as a way of illustrating some of the key points that would be helpful in addressing the topic.

 Every wananga begins with karakia; that is obvious; that is how wananga always begin. We are becoming well used to karakia in New Zealand these days; every time something special happens, an opening of  a new public building, a conference, a new beginning, a disaster, and so on, a kaumatua is brought along so say a karakia. People usually stand in respectful silence, often wondering what it is all about, and hoping that it doesn’t carry on for too long. However it is much more than just a ceremony.

Much could be said; the following comments focus on the place of karakia in healing.

 The first reason for a karakia at the beginning of a wananga, or anything important, is to clear the way. We are busy people, and our minds are usually full of whole range of important business so it is hard at times to fully concentrate on the matter at hand. When it comes to health and healing it doesn’t pay to be distracted. The karakia is the time to collect your thoughts, to focus on what you are doing and why. It is not just things that we have in mind; it also is a matter of acknowledging our tiredness, grumpiness, lack of confidence, disappointments that bother us, anything negative that might hinder our ability to do what we have set out to do.

 That in itself is not just to clear our minds, it is also to protect us. Often when dealing

with illness we have to contend with a lot of negative feelings, from the patient, from family and friends of the patient, other health professionals. Sometimes it is peoples’ expectations; nothing less than a miracle will suffice. That sort of negativity can disempower us, and if we haven’t taken time to prepare ourselves carefully it can be very draining, to say the least, and impede our ability to help.

 The purpose of a karakia is to clear those things from us so that we are able to do the best we are capable of.

The words used are not important. We use our own words, language, not somebody else’s. Sometimes words are not needed at all; just a quiet time within ourselves. We draw on our own beliefs, our own traditions, our own practices – our tikanga, the way we have been taught to go about things. We remember the people who have taught us, inspired us, given us our values, our knowledge, and bring them with us. We draw on the knowledge and wisdom they have given us, not just our own. Sometimes the most significant part of a karakia is the quietness; we hear the sounds of the forest, the birds, the water, the wind. In the stillness is found the beginning of the healing.

 Having taken the time to begin with karakia the next step of the wananga is to focus on the plants themselves.

There was a time in New Zealand when most people lived close to the natural world of the forest and lots of people had a good knowledge of the trees and plants, and everything else that lived there. Those days have gone; most people enjoy the ngahere, the forest, but in fact know very little about it. There was a time when people depended on what the forest could provide for day to day necessities; food, water, medicine, shelter, safety, firewood, and as a result had a very broad and very deep knowledge of its life and energy. These days we go there for bush walks, to relax, recharge, find inspiration, but not so many people know just about every tree and plant, not just as a species, but as a family member, nga uri of Tane Mahuta, fellow children of Tane. I was told at the very beginning of my journey to learn rongoa Maori that nobody needed to tell me anything about the trees and plants; all I had to do was to get to know them and they would tell me everything I needed to know. That sounded rather discouraging at the time, but once again it proved to be the case.

Before people start to learn about the medicinal properties of the trees and plants of the forest they need to get to know the trees themselves. That means much more than identifying them and knowing where to find them. It means getting to know them in their relationship to the rest of the forest, not just other trees and plants, but the birds and insects, the sun and moon, the earth itself and the water that gives it life, and ourselves; we too are part of Tane’s family.

 People also need to learn to see themselves as part of that web of connections. One of the major causes of ill health in the modern world is that we have lost an awareness of our connections, our belonging to the earth and sky, and all that draws life from that. How else can the destruction the human race has wrought on the environment be explained? How can we ever heal the world until we come to relearn that we are in fact part of it?

The next stage in the wananga then is to help people to learn about the plants, not just the ones that will prove to be useful for their medicinal or other properties, but all the plants. We need to do this to be sure that we have collected the ones we are looking for. First we must get to know their names, just like we are getting to know the names of so many people at this conference whom we have met for the first time. Most plants have lots of names, traditional names, botanical names, common names, story names and the associations that help us to remember them, just like people. That can be a bewildering experience to begin with, but not an unachievable challenge. We can learn anything if we want to, and believe enough in ourselves.

 Having been introduced to the trees and plants, like getting to know a new friend, it is important to spend time with them. The venue for these wananga is not in a class room, but the bush itself. It is only when you really get to know the bush that we can begin to realize that even that is far from well. So many of the plants that were once so common have almost disappeared, thanks to the impact of animals, not just pest animals but domestic stock as well,  and the invasion of hundreds of exotic weed species. Most of the plants used traditionally by Maori for medicine are found in the regenerating fringe of the forest where they are readily eaten by animals and quickly displaced by more aggressive pest species. The use of rongoa Maori is declining because the bush itself is in decline.

 In using New Zealand plants in our practice we need to be mindful that even these may not be easy to obtain, and we must help address that.

In the past the rangatahi, the up and coming generation, were sent by their kaumatua /elders into the forest to learn to be orators; the beauty of their speech to be compared to the songs of the birds of the forest. Now the forest is a place of silence and emptiness, no sound but the wind soothing its way through bare branches, not even the flowers to adorn them. The sub canopy growth, seedlings, shrubs, ferns, mosses, often has disappeared completely. Even the giant trees struggle to survive, no longer nourished and nursed by the many layers of growth once shaded by their outstretched branches.

 Taha Wairua:

That all sounds very dramatic, even though we have heard that sort of talk so often that we have almost become immune to it. But isn’t much of our time as practitioners spent treating the illnesses that are directly caused by the environment we have created? We try to counteract the effects of industrialized food and contaminated water, in people who are so stressed by the pressures of modern living that they are dominated by their excesses, food, drink, play, work, worry. We live in a world full of people who claim their rights yet forget their responsibilities and wonder why there is not enough to go around.

 The answers are not going to be found in the better use of plant medicine, plants can’t heal the emptiness and loneliness, the uncertainty, the self doubt, the sense of disappointment that so many people feel. The problems are much more fundamental than that. That’s why we need to look beyond the traditional use of plants for medicine to a fuller understanding the basis of traditional Maori medicine.

At the beginning of this paper I repeated what I have been told so often, the basis of traditional Maori medicine is not rakau, trees and plants, but taha wairua. Health is not about medications, however prepared, or how effective; it is about who we are and where we belong to the world. It is about the world of connections of which we are a part, it is about that sense of belonging, knowing that we belong, and where we belong. It is about restoring and maintaining the balance that enables life to thrive. We are not the kings of creation, the glorious end achievement of the long process of evolution; we are unique, we are a treasure, a marvel, but still only one marvel in a much greater marvel, the world of creation.

 The focus of the traditional Maori understanding of the environment is on that interconnection; it is expressed in whakapapa, which begins with Tane Nui a Rangi and Papatuanuku, to Tanemahuta and their many other children, and through them to all living creatures. Certainly there is conflict in that world; Tawhirimatea lashing the children of Tane with the force of his wind, and Ruamoko shaking the earth, but it is all within the family, and it is a matter of maintaining a state of balance so that the connections that bind creation are strong and sustaining.

 Human kind are descended from Tane; in terms of the whakapapa we are in fact the teina, even more, the potiki, the most junior of his descendents. One of the key rules of the Maori world is to always respect one’s seniors; not to do so brings about disharmony and even conflict. It could be said that the devastation that is happening in terms of human impact on the environment is a direct result of this rule being overlooked. We have acted as if we were owners of the world’s resources, and taken without asking, taken much more than we were ever entitled to. We are beginning to pay the cost.

 This sense of belonging, or connection, finds expression in the way rongoa is harvested and prepared. Traditionally healers have a real relationship with the trees and plants they harvest for rongoa; they never harvest without preparing themselves properly, and ask permission before they start to harvest. They harvest with care and respect, taking only what they need at the time. Anything that is harvested is, after use, returned to the land.

 The healing is not only the physical or chemical properties that the plant may contain; they may be important, but more important is connection between the Mauri of the plant, and that of the healer, and the patient for whom the rongoa is destined for. One could describe the Mauri as the “gift of life”. It is much more than a physical reality; there is an energy involved, something much more than physical; it is this that empowers the healing.

 This is something that needs to be seriously considered in terms of growing the connection between Rongoa Maori, traditional Maori medicine and New Zealand herbal medicine. Kaumatua are often wary of entrusting their knowledge to others because they are not certain that others will treasure the knowledge and treat it with the respect it requires in order for it to live and share its gift.

 Modern herbal medicine happens in a busy world full of many pressures. Too often most of the herbs dispensed are prepared on an industrial scale; the mass production that is necessary to meet the demand of the market means there may be little space for the protocols, tikanga, required by traditional practice. 

That passes through to the busy herbalist working in a dispensary. How often do people proscribe herbs that they have never seen let alone harvested for themselves.  There is often no real connection between the herbs and the practitioner, other than the training they have received and experience they have developed. This may seem to be all that is necessary; they have the professional skills. However traditional healers might say that this is not “safe practice”, that in working this way not only do patients not receive the best of treatment but the practitioners themselves may in fact be putting themselves at risk. Even herbalists suffer burnout, become disillusioned, become so committed to setting up a successful practice that they lose sight of the values and goals that first drew them to their profession.

 In this very busy world, in this world where the places in which we live are becoming so unhealthy, it is critical that those who work with traditional medicines, retain their earth connection and the values that come from it. It may turn out that the greatest contribution that medical herbalist makes to their patients is not the wonderful medicines they prescribe, but reconnecting people back to the earth, the source of life itself.

 In a practical sense that means getting out and getting to know the plants you use; walk in the bush, grow herbs in your garden, live as much as you can from what you grow yourself. Not only is that a very good way to de-stress, but in fact it will enrich your healing. Of course you will have to make use of the excellent products that are now available; but you won’t be dealing with strangers. Your herbs are your family, you know them and you care for them. When you prepare a medicine with them you will be sharing their mauri, not just their chemistry.

 Herbalists with this sort of background connect to traditional healers much more easily; there is a very real connection which is quickly recognized. It is through that sort of connection that we start to learn.

 There is much to learn about traditional Maori medicine, other than the plants themselves. The meaning of such concepts as “tapu and noa”, “mana’, “taha wairua” are all important in coming to understand rongoa Maori. They are not barriers, as they are often depicted, but boundaries, to ensure safe practice. They help to restore and enable the balance, the strength of connections that are all necessary that a person may be well, and to ensure that the healer is kept safe and well..   

 We live in a world that is obsessed with its technology and biochemistry. Health care has become one of the major industries of the world and is dominated by multinational businesses that make many people wealthy. They fund research, and even though they have brought major benefits to very many people they also work to ensure that nobody or nothing can in any way jeopardize their profitability. Its proponents regard themselves as the leaders in healthcare and tend to belittle traditional medicines as being primitive and less capable, an anachronism that no longer has a place.

 We have largely bought into that thinking and spend too much of our time and energy in trying to find a little space to enable us to continue to survive. The battle over the ANZTGA and now the new proposal being promoted by Government are examples of that. We need to stop doing that. We are the mainstream medicine; more people in the world use only traditional medicines than will ever use, or be able to afford, pharmaceutical medicines, which increasingly are available only to the wealthy.

 We are not just talking about the medicines that can be made from natural products – even those are becoming available only to those who can afford them.  We are talking about the whole understanding, the whole set of values and beliefs that underpin traditional medicine, the sense of belonging to the world, the belief that the Earth is the Mother of us all, the right of each person to uphold their mana and to be treated with respect; the practice of using with care, and the willingness to share, and always returning to the Earth that which comes from the earth. These are all fundamental to the Maori understanding of health and healing; they are fundamental to very many traditional cultures. We need to rediscover them, remind ourselves of them, and give them full expression in the way we live and practice. We need to be  uncompromising in our determination to do so.

 The answer to the growing problems that our planet faces will not be found in technology, or the wizardry of the modern computer backed scientist. The answer is to be found in the teachings of our ancestors. We need to learn again to care for the Earth. Care for the Earth, our Mother, and she will be able to care for us.