My clever mother! No wonder she’s a good teacher. You could tell that the manager didn’t know what to do. He shuffled some papers. ‘There’s a twenty-dollar damage and good behaviour bond for every person.’

‘You didn’t mention that when I phoned.’ Dad’s voice was tight.

‘Yeah, well I’ve got to think about—’

‘Are you charging tour supporters twenty dollars as well?’ Nana Whina spoke quietly.

The guy’s face went red. ‘That’s my business.’

‘It’s our business.’ Nana Whina still didn’t raise her voice. ‘Are you telling me that one group of New Zealanders don’t have the rights of another group?’

Now Nana Florence cut in. This was starting to sound like a school debate. ‘As my daughter-in-law says, you’ve got a nice place here. We’ll respect it. We’re going on the march because we believe people deserve respect. I’m sure you feel the same way.’

The guy tossed two keys on the counter. ‘Don’t use all the hot water in the shower blocks, eh? There’s other people to think of.’

Mum gave him a dazzling smile. ‘That’s exactly why we’re marching: to think of other people. Thank you so much.’

Dad and Tipene looked as if they wanted to say something else, but Nana Florence and my mother eased us outside. ‘What a lovely man!’ Mum grinned, when we were on our way back to the cars.

‘Huh,’ grunted Tipene. ‘I’d like to—’

‘“Lovely?”’ muttered Dad at the same time. ‘I wanted to—’ He and Tipene stopped, stared at each other, began to laugh.

A voice called ‘Hello! You’re here! Kia ora — welcome!’

It was Finola, Tipene’s elder sister. She lives in Auckland and teaches at the university. ‘Big sis got all the brains and I got all the good looks,’ Tipene smirked when she was down visiting one time. Finola laughed. ‘You’re half-right. I won’t say which half …’

Finola’s writing a book, too. Hers is about Maori women: the things they’ve done; the ways they’re the guardians of songs and stories. She comes to Waimoana to do research a lot; reckons she’s going to steal Grandad Robert’s best stories and put them in her book.

She told me one time about some of the women from Waimoana Marae. Areta, who came to the valley with her people when a war drove them off their lands, and who tried to heal Great-great-nana Aggie’s blindness. Her daughter Hahona, who became Aggie’s best friend. Hahona’s young sister, Ngaio, who married one of our family and taught kids at our very first school how to speak Maori.