Back to the real life

 

They say that your eyes are the windows to your soul.  Well in the last few months of my time in Barcelona and during my 78 days of travelling I have seen the mean extremes – pure happiness and deep sadness.  I have left some great friends, family and colleagues in Europe which makes me very sad and I will carry this around with me for a long time.  However I am back with my family in my home and that is what my soul needs to heal. 

Here's when we were little and mum dressed us all up in traditional costumes.

It has been a true adventure and with this blog it will help me remember it all – from Morrocan snake charmers in Marrakesh, to final farewells in Barcelona, Harlem and Broadway in New York,  Playa del Carmen beaches and the Mayan ruins of Tulum, Palenque ruins in south Mexico, the zapatistas and revolutionists in San Cristobal, chicken buses and friends in Guatemala – Xela, hippies and finding my aura in San Marcus, streets of Antigua, the reggae of Livingston, Mayan temples of Tikal, diving in Caye Caulker in Belize and catamarans in San Pedro, little Amazon of Tortugero in Costa Rica, surfing in Puerto Viejo, the canal and old town of Panama City, hanging with the cool people in Miami, my time with Kiriana and Manawanui in Cuzco and mountain biking, walking Machu Picchu, time in the jungle with anacondas, tarantulas in the Amazon, sandboarding in Huacachina, Peru, Venice beach in LA, surfing in Hawaii, and relaxing with Sarah and Ross and the kids in Sydney and finally getting home.

I learnt many things but one thing that struck me when I went to the Polynesian Cultural Centre when I saw so many Polynesians, the Fijian, Samoans, Hawaiians, Maoris, Taonga, Tahitians,  together and performing their own traditional songs and dances.  It helped me glue together many parts of my trip and my life… I saw pride and passion. 

Pride for their culture and passion for what they were doing. I have seen that passion professionally, from people like Alfonso and the Exec team, Marc and Susana to people like John Banks, from my dad and the rest of my family.  And it is addictive. 

I have seen passion for ones culture from Muslims in Morroco to Peruvians over their land and arts, to the Polynesians in Hawaii or the Maori's in New Zealand.  You see the passion in their eyes. 

And passion for life and loved ones from all my friends and family and their children. 

Now it's my turn to find my passion for life, professionally, for my culture and personally…

Adios Taiawhio Te Parata

Ko Takitimu te waka. (My canoe is Takitimu).

Ko Tamatea Pokai Whenua te maunga. (My mountain is Tamatea Pokai Whenua).

Ko Whangaraupo te moana. (My harbour is Whangaraupo).

Ko Ngai Tahi te iwi. (My tribe is Ngai Tahu).

Ko Ngati Wheke te hapu. (My subtribe is Ngati Wheke).

Ko te Wheke te marae. (My home is te Wheke).

Ko Te Pura o te Rangi toku papa. (My father is Te Pura o te Rangi).

Ko Reihana toku mama. (My mother is Reihana.)

Ko Taiawhio te Tau Parata ahau. (I am Taiawhio te Tau Parata).