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The Life of the Party – Issue 5

When it comes to being Māori, we can have it pretty tough when we’re the only one in a room full of Karens and Keiths. But all of that changes when showing up at a party, like when you walked into school and saw Harold the Giraffe was there, you knew things were about to get lit.


Legit, a Māori person can do whatever they want at a party and the whole crowd of white people start freaking out like they summoned Michael Jackson from the dead. But don’t freak out, we’re just like you, you know, with a bit more rhythm. Here’s a conglomerate of all my friends mashed into one and what you might expect:



It’s highly likely you’re about to have your playlist hijacked and changed depending on the time of the night. Pre-midnight; Chris Brown. Post midnight; ‘Māori Shed Party’ on Spotify (IYKYK). Maybe they missed out on the front row at regionals but either way, you know ‘Marae Carey’ is going to be trying to belt it out. Hide your guitar too or it’s about to turn acoustic real fast.



Seriously, all we gotta do is clap our hands on beat and the crowd goes crazy. Māori people know they got rhythm, so they’re going to use it. This one ain’t hard to spot, look for the person dancing in time. 



You can tell how long someone is going to be staying at the party based on what they’re wearing. If I show up looking like I’m about to be heading off on a boat to catch fish, you know I’m in for the long haul. I’m talking trackies, a hoodie, and jandals. Guaranteed no matter how paru your floors are too, we’re gonna take our shoes off (or at least until you catch us pretending to undo our laces and tell us to “leave them on”).



Mama didn’t raise no fools so you know we’re showing up with a twenty-four box. And similarly to attire, you can tell a lot about where someone is from based on what happens to be in that box: Lion Red = up north; DB Export = central NZ; Waikato Draught = never travelled so don’t do any better; Tui = hell, probably.



There’s a saying, give a man a fish and he’ll eat for the day. Well, give the bro a pack of cards and you’ll be drinking for the whole night. Parties are all about getting to know each other, and what better way to do that than by all suffering together. There are more games out there than King’s Cup and if someone wants to play ‘Whakapapa’ then run.



If I ever went to someone’s house and made a mess as a kid we would have got a smack. That shit doesn’t change when you’re ‘an adult’ either. How do you think all those bottles are getting into your recycling bin, Sarah? The other cuzzies and I have formed an unspoken pact that is going around cleaning up because that’s called tikanga.