Tatau – the journey.

Pain is an interesting journey. We live our lives avoiding pain like the plague though when we might take the opportunity to look back on real learning moments in our lives; pain was often a main ingredient. From the time we are little and are told “don’t touch the element” we invariably touch the element and feel pain. And the pain reminds us that if we do that again we will feel pain again. A simple analogy I know but one we might all relate too.

So what about the pain we choose. A pain that we want and desire because the outcome of this pain is something we will actuall treasure and consider a taonga. Lying on the pandana mat I can hear the fan blowing as I look out the window to a cool blue South Pacific sky. I can faintly hear the waves crashing on the reef as I take a deep breath and prepare for the chosen inevitability of pain. How different this is to the pain I knew. The pain that never asked me first or gave me the opportunity to consider wether or not I wanted it or not. Unlike the pain of my past this I choose. This I have control over somewhat and this has meaning for me.

Tatau is the traditional form of tattling practiced in Polynesia. It involves a set of fine toothed combs made from boars tusk and attached to a stick. That is then struck by a hard wood stick piercing the skin. And when dipped in ink leaving the Indelible mark of Tatau. I have felt the machine tattoo and endured the process. This is markedly different from start to finish My search for something closer to that of my ancestors has lead me to where I am today. On a journey I never really anticipated and one that has only just begun.

Is it like the carver who talks about the wood possessing the carving and his job being only to chip away at the wood to reveal what was always there. The Tatau always present on my skin just waiting for the Tatau Taunga to bring it forth and make it visible exposing it to the world though it was always present, lying there under my skin waiting to be called out by the Tatau Taonga’s tools. The rythmic beating of the tools of his trade ; the rakau patupatu and the ivi provide a solace to the piercing of the skin as blood and ink flow together in a reddy black stream. The karakia a connection with that that is greater then myself and the process a connection with my ancestors who in times past felt a similar right of passage.

Tatau is a wonderful privilege. It calls us at the right time and at the right place and when we are ready to walk and carry those symbols and patterns with some sense of pride and dignity. They are not soley mine and they do not soley belong to me. I am merely a messenger carrying a message on my body from a time long gone. Passing this message on from my generation to the next surviving the onslaught and cultural imposition of missionaries and their holy crusade to nobilise the savage beast Many men and women have gone before me and I am just a link in a very long chain. Pain is part of this journey though this time it is a welcome vehicle and the only way to my chosen destination…..identity, connection and Turanga vaevaea. Finding my standing ground.

Tatau mapped out

Advertisement