Why I'm going hundies for Matariki this year

A midwinter celebration for this environment. No brainer.

To the 56% of my readers who aren’t New Zealanders, and for those who are but know as little as I did about Matariki until very recently, Matariki is:

• A cluster of stars also known as the Pleiades and Seven Sisters

• A single star (the mummy star of the cluster)

• The Māori new year according to the traditional lunar calendar

• A New Zealand public holiday as of 2022, observed this year on June 20

The fact that we only got an indigenous public holiday five minutes ago is obviously rude and bad, so I welcomed the correction. Still, I never felt a real red-blooded connection to Matariki—the natural outcome, I guess, of growing up in a colonial country that only paid lip service to its bicultural character.

At school in the 90s we learned the numbers 1 to 10 in te reo, a few songs and colours, and how to pronounce the word Māori the “proper” way: say it like ‘mouldy’. This ended up being wrong but was a slight improvement on the reigning Pākehā pronunciation (“Maow-ree”). Anyway, we never heard boo about Matariki. For New Zealanders in this boat—and there are plenty of us—you’re faced with a choice: either enjoy the day off and let the meaning of the occasion wash over you, as frankly I’ve done for the past few years, or forge your own clumsy, grasping connection to a holiday that’s not in your bones.

I happen to be ploughing through the History of Rome podcast. A week ago, I listened to the 2010 Christmas special, in which the host discussed why we celebrate Christmas on December 25th. The precise historical reason is a long story, involving the Saturnalia festival and Sol Invictus and the feast of the unconquered sun, but the short answer is: it’s the middle of winter (in the northern hemisphere, at least).

“Across time and space, back to the earliest tribes of mankind, there has been some sort of midwinter festival,” the host says, “and the midwinter festival, whatever the particular rituals or traditions, is always amongst the most popular and most anticipated.”

Across ancient cultures, the winter solstice was a perfect occasion for celebration. Darkness has reached its maximum ebb, astronomer priests reassured their people, now light is ascendant.

Saturnalia, Sol Invictus, Christmas, Matariki—lighting fires, feasting and gathering— decorating with the foliage of evergreen trees—singing, revelling and swapping gifts—looking ahead to the spring harvest: they’re different traditions, but they’re found all across the world, and they point in the same direction: to the universal human yearning, in the dead of winter, to huddle with other people and celebrate light, food and life.

In other words, I found out to my delight that Matariki is in my bones.

I’m so pleased because I find the vibes of Matariki to be immaculate. Stars, food, kites; remembering, wishing, planning; getting things in order. June is a great time for New Year, a holiday I’ve always loved. Two New Years! A midwinter celebration for this environment. No brainer.

Anyway, I’m all in. My grocery list is full of Command hooks to hang miles of fairy lights and tacky glow-in-the-dark stars and lamb legs. I’m not doing a bloodless, lip-service holiday this year.

They make a big song and dance out of Matariki at my daughter’s daycare. Shared lunch, craft stars, photo remembrance wall. I was wondering why she kept coming home singing about “Tamariti” but I think that’s just how she says Matariki (she’s two).

This generation of kids will have some connection to Matariki whether they like it or not. I think that’s good. Light and food and family at the midwinter solstice—what could be more good?

Welcome Matariki! Happy New Year!