New Zealand: Maori Hangi in Rotorua

It wasn’t easy dragging myself out of the hot thermal waters of the Polynesian Spa in Rotorua on that cold winter night. Birds were rising from the lake, heading home to roost as steam rose in the dying light of Saturday.

As I forced my relaxed muscles to work, cold air hit skin: this traditional Maori Hangi dinner better be worth it.

A ride back into Maori history

Half an hour later, rugged up and feeling like I was still steaming gently, I stood outside my hotel waiting for the tour bus. In my befuddled state, this was a confusing moment: there were tour buses and tourists everywhere. How would I know which one was mine? But I knew: not one of the slick silver modern buses, no, mine was the gaudily painted, older style functional bus. The adventure had begun.

Being greeted at the Maori Hangi, Rotorua

The cheerful tour guide welcomed us on board, and the doors clanked shut. We made a couple of stops at other hotels, went around the block, and pulled into the tourist office almost next door to my hotel – there was half an hour of my life I’d never get back! But soon we had everyone on board and headed out of Rotorua on our way to the Maori village, 15 kilometres south.

The bus was completely full and the tour guide immediately set the tone of the evening: involvement! There would be no passengers on this ride. He explained a little about Maori history and culture, declared our bus a traditional canoe and encouraged us all to grab hold of an imaginary paddle and row. As the energy fired up, the windows steamed up and we became completely enclosed in our fantasy ride back into history.

Paddling a canoe-bus into the magnificent darkness

We were headed for a traditional marae, a Maori village, and the aim of the tour was threefold: the learn, to eat and to enjoy. Our guide told us we were journeying back into the 1800s, to a traditional feast to farewell the chief’s son.

Firstly, we had to elect a chief of our tribe. He would be the one who would go through the ritual of welcome when we reached the village, make a gift to the village chief on our behalf, and hopefully show that we came in peace not war.

Naturally, the first high-spirited young guy on the bus to make a joke was elected. We cheered then sat back to gaze out into the dark; I have to admit at this point I was still not sure whether I really wanted to be in a canoe-bus heading into the cold dark night or back in the thermal pools lakeside.

Pulling up at the Tamaki Maori Village, we piled out of the bus into the darkness. We were only about 20 minute’s drive from Rotorua but this was deeply dark countryside. In fact, forest. It was spooky and magnificent at once.

How wrong we were

Our guide once again impressed on our ‘Chief’ the seriousness of the Powhiri (welcome ceremony) he was about to take part in. We were instructed not to laugh, move or talk but we could take photographs. At the point I think we were all still a little removed from the whole thing, filled with expectations of a cheesy tourist song and dance and well-rehearsed routine.

How wrong we were.

Yes, it was well rehearsed – by generations. And yes, it was put together for tourists – but with a deep underlying wish and need to communicate a culture the Maori are determined to keep alive.

A traditional 'haka' greeting at the Maori Hangi in Rotorua

We entered the village forecourt (for want of a better term) and waited. A blood-curdling scream rang out from the forest. Then the warriors came. In traditional dress, doing the traditional welcome ritual of dance, weapon challenges, war cries, and the famous Haka. The villagers tested the resolve of our chief to not offend and offer gifts. He passed their test, their chief and ours pressed noses together in a traditional greeting, and we were invited into the village. But I heard him confess to his friends that he’d been terrified. And if you’ve ever seen a Maori Haka, imagine having that aimed at you, mere feet away – a very effective way of frightening your enemies. I don’t think our Chief will forget this night in a hurry.

The chief, doing an excellent job

Walking along a floodlit path in the dark forest, we came upon the village itself and were invited to wander among the whare (houses), watch arts and crafts at work, listen to presentations about tradition and culture, and ask any questions. There were probably about a dozen huts, each showcasing a different thing: warrior training, weaving, wood carving, tattooing. As a way of teaching people about culture, it was a great set-up.

I particularly enjoyed watching the warriors intensively training then swinging around to find the corpulent chief lying in his hut snacking. He good-naturedly pointed out that his role was to be Chief, to be smart and charismatic, and not do anything physically taxing. Clearly he was doing an excellent job.

After half an hour or so, we were invited to head further into the forest to the wharenui (meeting house). Inside the long wooden house decorated with ornate traditional carvings around the door, we settled onto benches and waited.

About a dozen or more Maori in traditional costume performed a variety of songs, dances and poi twirling. Poi are balls on long strings that you swing in rhythm and dance – it’s not easy and these women (because it is traditionally a woman’s skill) were skilled. Another distinctive moves of Maori dance is a trembling hand movement, which I learnt symbolises the life force in everything.

One of the things becoming really obvious to me was the good-humour of everyone performing. They seemed really proud of their culture, very relaxed and friendly, and ready to laugh. My New Zealand friends assure me that Maori gatherings nearly always erupt into parties and singing and this one was heading that way.

The Hangi feast begins

Next we were taken to the dining hall for the traditional hangi feast. Hangi is a method of cooking food in the ground. We were shown how a huge pit is dug and then the food layered, the pit sealed and the whole thing left for hours. There is a particular order for layering the food and a special way of ensuring the pit is sealed properly, otherwise the whole thing will spoil.

Clearly, these guys are experts at hangi. The food was delicious. It’s a meaty feast, and I’m a vegetarian and a worried one having seen a pit for cooking all the food together. But the layering kept the vegetables separate and our hosts had also made allowances for the dietarily-challenged among us.

I am still not convinced that the pavlova and sticky date pudding were totally traditional Maori food – although New Zealand keeps trying to claim the pavlova as a national dish in a fierce ownership battle with Australia – but they were really delicious.

Inevitably as dinner drew to a close, singing erupted again and all the staff joined in. Our chief was presented with a thank you gift and then it was time to leave the forest – by now really quite cold – and get back onto our bus.

Too much, the magic bus

The ride into town was no less festive than the ride out with the bus driver encouraging everyone to sing their national songs. I have to say the Irish were impressive, the Americans enthusiastic and the Australians confused chaotic. (I confess to being an Australian and to having stared out into the dark night and not sung… perhaps I was thinking about how to prove pavlova in Australian.)

We reached Rotorua well fed, amused, and must better educated about Maori culture and tradition. My trip to the Tamaki Maori village was definitely worth it. Even the sceptical New Zealander friend I took along for the ride was impressed.

And there was still time for another session in the Polynesian spa pools under the stars. Bonus.

-Philippa Burne

Planning a trip? Browse Viator’s New Zealand tours & things to do in New Zealand, from Rotorua tours to the Hangi Maori feast. You can also browse Hangi Maori photos.