1 Captions by Julie Taylor. Edited by Antony Vlug. www.able.co.nz Captions were made with the support of NZ On Air. Copyright Able 2017 (GENTLE, RELAXING MUSIC) Avondale lies west of Auckland city. It's a suburb with proud working-class roots and an increasingly diverse population. Half of the residents here, like me, were born overseas. I was born on The Rock ` The Rock of Polynesia. That's Niue island. It's the world's smallest independent nation, and there's about 1600 people living there full-time. Still, though, it's a lot less than the numbers that flock to the Avondale Markets on the weekend. I've been living in Avondale for about 12 years. I love it. I think it's because the tide of gentrification hasn't swept over us yet, you know? We're still a little shabby ` and proudly so. Oh, we got an apartment block that's gone up, but that's only cos the racecourse had to sell us some land to pay off its debts. The local shops still have that same run-down charm they've always had. Let's find out what gives my hood its unique charm. In this episode of Neighbourhood ` a young Filipino woman pushes the boundaries. We actually have the legal right in New Zealand to be topless, but because of social stigma, women feel like they're not safe to do so. A Tongan local wears his heritage with pride. I want something to put on my body that is like a family tree for me. An Avondale local puts her culture on canvas. I mostly do these for myself. So, if they like it, good; if they don't,... tough luck. And a group of women with refugee backgrounds pool their talents. When I started to volunteer with WISE, I stopped crying. I stopped feeling` you know? I feel happy. I'm Shimpal Lelisi, and this is my neighbourhood. (UPBEAT MUSIC) (INSPIRING MUSIC) Niue was settled by Samoans over 1000 years ago, then came the Tongans. So, to me, Pasifika culture has always been intertwined. You know, we're all children of Te Moana-nui-a-Kiwa ` the Pacific Ocean. So when people ask me, 'As a Niuean, why are you in the Naked Samoans?' Well, you know, I actually started off in Maori theatre, playing Maori characters, then bro'Town and on to Sione's One and Two. I guess my love of wanting to make people laugh comes from my days back at school. I didn't learn how to speak English properly until I was in intermediate, about 12. So I got really good at reading people, you know ` mannerisms, gesture, body language. But I was also raised to think that I was a little bit special. Thanks, Nana. Which is all good, but, you know, I was acting that little bit special when I went to school. You know, getting into a bit of trouble ` that guy. You had to be fast or funny. Sometimes the way we define ourselves in our teens really can set us up for life. So, my parents are from the Philippines. I've got, like, all the traditions that my mum and my dad have brought me up with, with, like, singing, eating lots of food, trying to be, like, hospitable and being very talkative. But the Kiwis are pretty, like, chill. (LAUGHS) So that kind of cancels each other out. Growing up as, like, a Filipino in New Zealand, my cultural identity is a bit whack. I don't really know where I belong, because I do have, like, two different core personalities that are kind of just, like, battling each other. Being, like, a kid with self-esteem issues and being really insecure and shy and also not really knowing where I fit in, in terms of my cultural identity, I dove myself into learning about, like, self-love and learning about how society treats women and, kind of, makes us grow up thinking that we're, like, less than or we're unworthy of, like, respect to the same degree that our male counterparts are given. (PLAYS ACOUSTIC GUITAR) I feel like I was put into this world already predestined to make music, and if I don't do it, I feel like my soul is dying. # I have nothing # to complain about. # I have no reason # to frown or pout. # I am so # darn happy... # (WHISPERS) to be alive. My music is quite feminist. I mean, most of the time I talk about my pals, about girls and just uplifting us and empowering us and talking about us in a way that isn't usually heard in the media. I mean, songs about women are usually about, like, hoes, and there isn't really, like, 'Oh, she's a goddess,' and 'She's so smart. She's so kind. 'She's got a wonderful heart.' You don't really hear that. So I do make it, kind of, like, my mission to talk about women positively. # Your name is a garden, # and your heart is kind. I was very ignorant growing up. I mean, I did have a few traditional values of, like, a woman's place, and, so, becoming educated on issues really, like, sparked such an awareness for what the world is really like, cos I feel like I was seeing the world through, like, rose-tinted glasses, not really aware of how... how ignorant I was being. (RELAXED MUSIC) I started becoming more involved with activism, and I don't know how it happened, but I ended up being an organiser for Free the Nipple New Zealand. We're here to support women's rights and the right for women to have control over their own bodies. We actually have the legal right in New Zealand to be topless, but because of social stigma, women feel like they're not safe to do so. So we just create a safe space for women to come out and just enjoy being topless. (LAUGHS) (PLAYS ACOUSTIC GUITAR) # See that darling over there, # the one with long hair. # Is it a girl? # Oh-oh-oh-oh. # Once upon a time, it was illegal for men to be topless, and people don't really know that. They had to fight for their right as well, and now men being topless isn't even thought about. You just look at them, and you're like, 'Oh yeah.' (LAUGHS) # What is it to you? # But my dad, he was kind of telling me off about Free the Nipple, because, you know, they have their own traditional cultural values, and also being Christians, you know, they have these ideas about modesty and also being safe in a society that is quite dangerous for women. At our second-to-last event, we had a terrible confrontation with this lady who was saying that we don't respect ourselves as women; we don't respect our bodies; we're demons; we're going to hell. And then they called the cops on us, and we were treated as criminals, even though the people confronting us were literally giving us verbal abuse and physical threats, like, they were actually ready to fight. (LAUGHS) If it wasn't for the police, I think they would have knocked us out. So, yeah, having that type of experience doesn't make me feel too positive about whether a change can happen in my lifetime, but I know that if the generations continue to do the work that I'm doing right now, then change will happen. I mean, maybe it is too far-fetched to want a utopian world, but I'm not gonna stop trying. (LAUGHS) (PEACEFUL MUSIC) I was gifted to my grandmother when I was 3 months old, and she pretty much brought me up. My parents came over to New Zealand first for work, and then sent over for me and my brothers and my grandmother afterwards. I ended up living back with my parents once we got here, but, eventually, I ran away to be with my grandmother. She was quite special to me. She was always happy, you know? And she never spoke English, so I ended up having to go with her everywhere to translate ` you know, the doctors, the shops, the buses. You know, I was kind of like her handbag. Funny thing is, though, that wherever we went, like, if we ran into any other Polynesian elderly people, you know, she could always have a conversation with them. Didn't matter if they were Samoan, Tongan, Fijian, you know, they didn't speak Niuean, and she didn't speak their language, but they could always have a conversation of which I didn't know what they were talking about. I guess language is no barrier when you have a common cause, you know? My name is Sasi. Sasikala Syed Niyamathullah. I came from Sri Lanka. I was born in Jaffna. When I was 7 years, we moved to India, the southern part of India, Tamil Nadu. Similar to our country, like, our place where I was born. We speak the similar language, the food, even the dress, the culture, it's mostly similar. So for me, it's like, both the places are the same. I studied there, got married, and I got my two children. Then in 2013, I came to New Zealand. Thank you very much. Thank you. Have a nice day. You too. Thank you. See you again. See ya. Today, my friend Layta, she's helping me to cook. She's from Sudan, and we are very good friends. Now we become family friends. We are frying the onion first for the vegetable fried rice. That's what gives the taste for the rice. We both met in our project, WISE Collective Project. WISE stands for 'women ` inspired, strong, empowered and enterprising'. WISE Collective Project does community development projects. This is for women from refugee backgrounds. The main aim of this project is to bring the women from isolation. We are cooking for the school holiday event. This event, we are celebrating the arts from different cultures, and we are cooking for that. All the families will bring a plate of food from their cuisine. Also, we are cooking extra food for our women. We cook with different kinds of vegetables and the rice because rice is our main food. We have to eat the rice. (CHUCKLES) Previously, two times a day. Now it's eating one time a day, at least. And the chilli chutney is... Our country's people, mostly they love chilli, eating more chilli, spicy food, so I like it. My family ` my husband, my children, including me ` love the chilli chutney. It's yum. But some people may cry. (CHUCKLES) In our country, when we cook, it's not only one or two dish. We cook, like, 10, 11 varieties of dishes. And it's, like, we all sit together with our family, and it's like a love and affection of, you know, sharing the food together. But now I miss that. (CHARMING MUSIC) This event is at the Avondale Community Centre. This is the third time we are having our event here. When I come to New Zealand, for me, everything is new. So I need some support, like, to meet some people, to know about New Zealand, even including shopping; I don't know anything. So my first step is into WISE group, WISE Collective. So, there I met many women, and the coordinator and the staff, they help me a lot. Now I'm the coordinator of the WISE Collective. (TRADITIONAL MUSIC) When they come to a new place, our women, they feel so isolated. They feel about their family and the problems they faced when they are back home. So they cry at home always. Like me, when I came here, I don't have any friends, so I feel so bored and I started to think about my parents, family. So when I started to volunteer with WISE, I stopped crying. I stopped feeling` you know? I feel happy, so that's what every woman feels. After coming to WISE, they share their, you know, feelings and their happiness, their sadness, so when they share something happiness, we all laugh with them. When they share their, you know, sadness, we just tell them, 'Don't worry. We are there to support you.' My dream is the WISE Project should have the WISE kitchen. Now itself, we are doing catering for big events, birthday parties, weddings, meetings, like that. But I'll be happy if my dream comes real. Like, the WISE kitchen is completely operated by WISE women and doing catering for big, big events. Niueans are superstitious, so I've never been scared of a really good ghost story, you know? My grandmother talked to the spirits. Growing up, it wouldn't be strange to wake up and find her talking to family, you know. One night in particular, I woke up and she was having this full-on conversation with her brother. Of course, she was talking to the wall and stuff, but the funny thing was, the next morning, we got a call from the islands that her brother had passed away. Niueans are comfortable in the spirit world. It's all good. The past is all around us. I was born on the island of Upolu in Samoa. There were no fences in the village. And the kids... you know, we run free in the village and in the bush, and we had certain jobs to do. Making tapa was one of the main jobs of the women in those days, because tapa then was used for bedspreads, for curtains to divide to the house and to be given for funerals and births. And so it was often done nearly every day. But, as children, we helped collect the nuts, the candlenuts from the bush, then your mother would light the fire with these candlenuts, and then she would put a piece of iron on the candlenut while they're burning, and catch the soot. And that's how they made the black dye. I still remember all the patterns in my childhood, and you tried to make` add different things to it while you're doing it. And all these things stayed in my head, at school, at college, when I was teaching. It didn't matter what I was supposed to do, I always ended up adding patterns, tapa patterns. Yeah, I suppose it's part of you. A lot of the people at my age, there's nothing to do. But I'm always busy. I either write or read or do my painting. Yeah. I love the creativity when I` You see, I never thought I could do this all my life. As a kid, because I wasn't allowed. It's not part of the Samoan thing that is for making money. So I never dreamed I'd paint. But if I was born in New Zealand, I'm sure I would have been a painter, not a school teacher. (CHUCKLES) Yeah. Fatu, my husband, he was 83 when he passed away. I miss him. It's really hard. But I've got something. I'm really happy` I'm happy that I've got something to do. Yeah. There was an exhibition up the road two years ago. I said I was going to flip Gauguin. I said, 'I'm going to paint blondes and tattoo them 'and give them a sei, a flower.' If Gauguin and McPhee and all the others could go to the islands in the past and paint, so I can paint the blondes. She was born in 1963, and then she was born in 1964. That's Makerita, and that's Tasha, and Poutasi was born in 1965. So you go 'bang, bang, bang'. In Samoa, there's no birth control. You've got to run away. Yeah. (CHUCKLES) We came in '74. I brought five, with one in my tummy. We arrived in February, and Bill was born in March. So he's the only one born here. And we used to travel on the bus together. Bill would look at people and say, 'Hey, I'm the only Kiwi. They're all coconuts.' (CHUCKLES) We'd all laugh on the bus and say, 'Keep quiet!' (LAUGHS) All my kids love what I do, cos they've seen me, ever since they were young, try different things ` bone carving, pottery. I mostly do these for myself. So if they like it, good; if they don't,... tough luck. MAN: That's lovely, that one, isn't it? How long ago did you do that one? Uh, two months ago. See, these houses are always the guest houses. Nobody lives in the front houses; they're for guests. She gave us options as siblings and young 'uns growing up, and what I really, really appreciate is that most Samoan mums would actually force` not force, but, you know, really entice the young 'uns not to do the arts, where all my brothers and sisters are artists. She's been amazing, so she supports us, so now in her older years, she's doing her art. It's really good to be able to give back and give her the space and the room to grow and experiment. Yeah. We're really excited. They are proud of me, and I'm proud of them too, because we all do it. We're sort of living art. Yeah. I always say we're arty-farty and happy and poor. (CHUCKLES) (PEACEFUL MUSIC) The racecourse has been the green heart of Avondale since the 1890s. Come Sundays, this place is heaving as the location of the famous Avondale Markets. But I like coming here during the week,... you know, when it's all nice and empty. I can just think... and write. Get one. When people ask me about my tattoos, I tell them they're my lucky lotto numbers. (CHUCKLES) In fact, though, they're dates. The dates on the right are when my brothers were born, and the dates on the left is when they passed away. Yeah. Each year, on these four days, I like spending time with them, talking to them, cos they're always with me, you know. And I like having that reminder on my skin. (INSPIRING MUSIC) I was born in the biggest village in Tonga, called Vaini. I'm a bodybuilder. I win three gold medals, and I'm a rugby player, and I end up playing for Mele. And a lot of people, they are thinking, 'They can't do that. They can't cut hair.' But they didn't know it was just my skill. I came back from Tonga with that skill of cutting hair. I got three kids. That is the VIP. My oldest son is Vincent, and then there's my older daughter, Ivanya, and then there's my younger, baby one, the princess, Petra. And the business is quite helping me and my wife and the kids. I try help a lot to the community. I try to help my youth. But it's not about thinking, 'I'm the champion' or 'I'm rich' or the money, no; whatever I'm called, I want to help. I find out in New Zealand, when you're 16, you can leave school. I teach the kids cutting, and I show them how to cut. I said, 'You start coming here. 'If you've got nothing to do, come and watch the cutting,' cos you can learn from there. One day, I told you to come cut, so might be good for you for your future to concentrate to cut hair somewhere, you know? To make money. I think he's done a wonderful job, not just opening the business for him and his family, but also helping others. In particular, the younger schoolkids, as this young fulla over here next to us, sweeping and that, you know? He's not out there being a nuisance on the road; he's out here, earning a few dollars. I'm thinking about me and my past. I going through at their age, and I knew the kids, they're looking for something ` might be they're looking to survive, might be they're looking for some skill, might be they're looking for some better way to get some money ` and I think into my past, it's me. Myself, personally, he's really helped me a lot. I just became a father about a month ago now. He's given me a few advice ` you know, how you dedicate yourself to work. Yeah. Always got a big heart, eh? Apart from the big muscles, you know, big heart. I grew up in Tonga with five brothers and two sisters. My father came here, tried to look for better lives for me and my brothers and my sister. And then end up my dad's coming here, he's still young. End up find this a new life in here. He found a wife and kids, the children, in New Zealand. (CLEARS THROAT) So me and my brothers and sister with my mum in Tonga. And then it's quite hard` hard job for (VOICE BREAKS) a mother like that... (CLEARS THROAT) ...to look after too many kids. I tried to survive. But I had to hustle to survive, looking for something. (SNIFFLES) But I never give up hope. I never give up hope. My dad came here about 1971. All my brothers and sister came together in 1986. They promised us, 'One day, we come here,' but now we're here. But the reason I want to do tatatau, I want to keep that history and the memory with a life I growing up from there and end up with the life in New Zealand ` work and stuff like that ` and I want to carry on the history of my memory what I do in New Zealand when I came here. I want something to put on my body that is like a family tree for me. And there's me and my wife and my three children connecting in there. And I drew five around on the pele. It's all my five brothers. I knew every time I'm feeling lazy or not doing anything, I look at my tattoo, and I have to go and do something, you know? And I keep looking at my tattoo everywhere I go, and I knew that this is my family I carry. (RELAXED MUSIC) (ALL LAUGH) As the world's smallest independent nation, Niue is doing pretty well for itself, thank you very much. In 2016, they declared that their national debt was all paid off. They are fully committed to becoming a whole organic nation, and they're slowly transitioning into solar power, which is a pretty good blueprint for the rest of the world, you might say. But Niue is only 1600 people, you know? A rock in the middle of the big blue Pacific Ocean. As for me, I'd like to return and live in that big blue Pacific Ocean, but until then, home is here. In the 828, Avondale. See you round. Captions by Julie Taylor. Edited by Antony Vlug. www.able.co.nz Captions were made with the support of NZ On Air. Copyright Able 2017