Well this is where it gets fun. You see Aidan and I made the journey to Porirua, just outside Wellington as to see Katchafire play with The Wailers. Porirua is a pretty hard out Islander place in NZ, one of the serious ones according to local NZ legend. On the way as I sat up the front of the car, Simon driving with Aidan in the back, something came over me.
“I have a funny feeling about this mate, is it cool that we go here?” I asked.
Simon replied whilst clutching the steering wheel he looked at me and said “I wouldn’t go here”.
As a little rush comes over me Aidan puts his head forward and says ” yeah mate, I have just been questioning what we are doing…”
Nah, all good I concluded to myself.
We arrived at the gig at the new basketball stadium to an amazing frenzy of Islander activity. There were heaps of people everywhere, almost as many cops loitering all over. OK, here we go.
Now, just for the record, and before I go on, when I travel I really like to immerse myself in the culture of the area I am visiting. This was the best travel I have ever had in NZ. This was real mon. I have never seen so many in one place at one time, actually I haven’t seen too many full stop, of completely tattooed faces. Even the pretty girls had them done, they are called Ta Moko. It is a traditional facial tattoo that is full of cultural significance and spiritualness. Others with facial tattoos here are actually gang members. I could tell there were lots of the later in the house tonight…
We made our way to the entry of this new and native styled stadium, cops and security all over the place. There were 3 searches on the way through, bags/pockets, electric scanner, and then a pat down. They were just making sure that now weapons or drugs were getting through the doors. That was interesting. We made it through and it was all exciting. A big place full of locals, first things first: the bar. Aidan and I downed a few beers to take the edge off, and this is where the fun began. Support band were interesting, but when Katchafire hit the stage in the heartland, the crowd went off. It was another fantastic gig by New Zealand’s best, and indeed one of the world’s best Reggae bands. They are just so good, even if you don’t like Reggae music their beats are infectious and warming. An hour and a bit later time for the main attraction, The Wailers. This was a different story. I was personally bummed that this band, made up of only 1 original member from Bob Marley daze was on stage, and even he was going through the motions. It just seemed like some Jamaican musicians in need of some $ so they did a tour. Very disappointing, lucky Katchafire were there to entertain us. Great stuff.
We moved over and said g’day to Jordon and some of the boys from Katchafire. You see they come each year to cairns and play a gig, and of course come to Calypso and taste the delights of our world famous Zanzibar. great bunch of guys and we look forward to hosting them each year.
Jordan passed us an invite to the after party at a bar across the road where we were to meet the rest of the crew and finish off the night in style.
We made our way over the road to the after party, heaps of others had the same idea after getting word of it. To be honest, I must have stuck out like a horse in a sheep paddock once again. It didn’t really concern me until we hit the streets, but it was cool as I was feeling very cool in my new temporary world.
Me, the white boy approach the bouncers who were obviously under the pump with all that wanted to get into the club, and he takes one look at me and says ” you’ve had to much bro, can’t come in”. You are kidding I thought, only had half a dozen beers and was on fire with excitement. Is this a reverse racism thing, ’cause I’m not Islander, no whites allowed?? I politely quizzed him and told him we had been invited by the boys of Katchafire, he again, this time a little more sternly declined me entry. Bummer again. I couldn’t believe it. But in these days I had no chance, and as a bar owner I understand that once the call had been made, that was it. Aidan told me that these daze it is commonly used as a cop out by bouncers who don’t have patience, but the power.
Just for the record, I was fine. We split and did the unimaginable. Go to a local bar in Porirua. We just walked down the street some what to find a bar nearby to discuss our disappointment and have a few more beers. This place was hard out. I wish I could remember the name, but that’s not necessary, as long as I never forget the memories that were made here, What a blast, a real dive into local culture. It’s hard to explain, but there were some pretty hard out characters here, Moko and all. We saw so much and started talking to whoever we could.
We made heaps of new mates over the next couple of hours, switching codes to the goodness of Jack Daniels we turned out to be the life of the party. The Aussie and Kiwi from outa town, unknowns but lots of fun to the all that crossed our paths. We had no fear, on the contrary, we had the audacious confidence to befriend some of the hardest bloke I have ever met, and we all had a wicked time. One of the fellas kept on slipping a small bag of marijuana in my pocket and giving me a wink. Nice gesture, but I really didn’t want it. I kept on politely giving it back to him, and as soon as I would he would place it back in my pocket. This went on humorously for a period of 10 mins or so, until I put it on a table and pointed to his mate to pick it up… that was a little funny episode in itself.
I was taught by one of the big boys how to rub noses in a friendly local customary gesture embedded in NZ culture. He made it quite clear that we were not to learn his name, so after asking clumsily a few times we got the idea not to ask again! It’s a way of saying hello, the ‘hongi’ is most interesting indeed. You see, you have to breathe in at the time of rubbing noses to fully make the greeting and taste the breathe and spirit of your fellow man… Great stuff.
Anyways, this went on for quite a while and we had a blast. It kind of came to an end when Aidan and I looked at each other after the mob was suggesting that they take us home to their place and have mum and dad cook us up a feed. The big fella also looked at me and said ” I reckon my sister will like you bro, let’s go” We politely slipped away and into a cab back to Wellington.
We had a wonderful Samoan lady as our driver, surprised to be picking us up from such a pub, she took $20 off the fare for us through her admiration of our adventure. That was it for Wellington, the next morning flew back to Auckland for the reason I went to NZ.
