and what remains

Abstract

Miria George, and what remains (Wellington: Tawata Press, 2007) The Maori culture has resided in Aotearoa/New Zealand for nearly a thousand years, and its erosion through colonisation, globalisation and government policy is neatly allegorised in Miria George's play and what remains. The year is 2010. As the play's narrative unfolds, the viewer discovers that under the guise of hidden, false notions of 'universality' embedded into Pakeha (non-Maori) New Zealand governmental policy, the decision has been made for all Maori to leave this country. Mary - a name aurally reminiscent of 'Maori' mispronounced by the linguistically ignorant - is the last. She represents the final vestige of Maoritanga (Maori-ness), which is about to depart forever and which will be replaced by the homogeneity of the global world. Mary carries a suitcase that the viewer eventually discovers is full of earth: the last memory of the whenua (land). Moreover Mary's voyage provides an ironic counter to the great sea voyages of famed Maori navigators such as Kupe in the north and Rakaihautu in the south, who led their people through the Pacific, finally arriving on the shores of Aotearoa. and what remains is set in the liminal space of an airport's international departure lounge - 'the spaces in between places' (25). Mary's intended destination is equally liminal: the no-place of exile from one's turangawaewae (home ground), what Ila calls '[t]he trusty flight to Nowhere' (3). Ila, of Gujarati Indian heritage, is heading to London to escape her stifling immediate family environment: 'out there I can be found' (39). Ila can be herself and find a sense of belonging 'out there'. In contrast, Solomon's family in New Zealand provides that sense of belonging: SOLOMON: I'm dependent on Mum, Dad, my brothers and sisters ... on my Mates ... That makes me feel good ... I know that not one of us ...... that not one of us is left in need because need will only ever lead to problems for all of us! (24) While Ila rails at the delayed flight, Solomon - off for the first time on his Big Overseas Experience - becomes increasingly reluctant to leave. Although Ila and Solomon feel trapped by circumstances, it is Mary who truly lacks agency. She is grief-stricken, remaining all but silent while the other characters bicker, talk about her and defend their own reasons for leaving. Eventually, in scene 5, she talks to Anna, the airport cleaner, in the bathroom of the departure lounge about her family and her life. At this point in the play, Mary is given her voice and the viewer realises that she has been interpellated into the discriminatory government agenda. Problematically, she is a nurse and an unwilling accomplice in a political scheme to undermine reproductive rights. She has been charged with administering a compulsory government birth control and sterilisation programme to all Maori women, eventually including herself. However, she is tired of protest for minimal or no gains, and she is tired of the fact that '[w]e are all judged by the mistake of one person' (49). She is leaving; and she is the last. Theatrical metaphor is heaped upon theatrical metaphor: encroaching globalisation is potently symbolised by the repeated drone of departing aircraft. Anna is 'responsible for cleanliness' (9), a chilling allegory for the ethnic cleansing alluded to in and what remains. However, she lingers in the departure lounge after her work is done, watching and commenting, presiding over limbo. She cannot - or will not leave; when she is presented with a boarding pass she tears it up. The policies that have sidelined Mary come from Pakeha New Zealand bureaucracy and are symbolised in the play by the repeated visual motif of whiteness - Anna's gloves and cloths, Solomon's, Ila's, Peter's and Mary's clothing, Peter's white box, the chairs in the departures lounge. The characters, from a variety of ethnic backgrounds, have had their unique identities written over by 'whiteness'. …