Hakka Beauty

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Those among us who do not have a Kiwi upbringing think the Hakka is just a silly thing the All Blacks do before the start of a rugby match. Now we all know it is of pacific origin and most assume it is some kind of war dance.
Living here at world's end I have learnt very little else about the Hakka or its origins, but I have learnt this: There is a lot of power and emotion in a Hakka and with every movement there is a story. I am learning slowly to appreciate its beauty.
The uniqueness of the Hakka unites Kiwis worldwide when it matters most. Even during the Rugby world cup it has the power to draw in even those who have no interest in rugby, everyone sits down to watch the All Blacks perform a Hakka! 

Last year at Central School’s final assemble boys aged eleven and twelve stood up proud and performed a Hakka loudly and with joy in their faces they had made it through another year of school, they were well and truly ready for their holiday and it showed in every movement and shout.
Recently a family member of a friend died somewhat tragically, I don’t have the details of her death suffice to say that it was not from natural causes and it is obvious that she was loved.
I know this from a video taken at her funeral posted on Facebook: When her coffin was been carried from the service to the hearse the parking lot resounded with the cries of the Hakka performed by High School Students. Even over the internet the emotions were palpable, the respect phenomenal it sent shivers running up my spine. These boys were fare welling someone, they were feeling their loss very deeply, and it showed it every deliberate movement every loud resounding word of the chant. How can such incredible beauty not move you? 

At any important festival, at the arrival of dignitaries or celebrities the Hakka booms through the air and people stop and watch in fascination or pride. The Hakka sets or reflects the mood or says what people are thinking or feeling.  The Hakka is a part of Kiwi society, tradition and identification it will always be.
It has survived centuries of changes, oppression and modernisation yet it has managed to retain its primal value. It is a call to battle, a cry of welcome, it is a celebration, a sign of respect, it is an opening, a closing, and a sad farewell. 

The Hakka, in its own uniquely Kiwi tradition is a thing of pure beauty.

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