Skeptics Beware

My time in Christchurch was perhaps the most transformative experience that took place for my research in New Zealand, both anthropologically and personally. I had been in communication with a Māori healer from the North Island who specializes in mirimiri and romiromi. After sending an initial email explaining the intention of my research, the consent process, and the possibility of scheduling an interview, this healer was incredibly skeptical. He stated that he would be unable to participate in an interview unless we met face-to-face and got to know each other because “it is the Māori way.” He told me that he would be in the South Island working at a healing expo in the suburbs of Christchurch for a weekend in May and would agree to an interview if I made the trip. Knowing how valuable these connections are and how this could potentially be a once in a lifetime experience, I bought the five hour bus ticket to Christchurch and booked an airbnb in the neighborhood of Mariville .

My initial meeting with this healer was intimidating to say the least. It was approximately 8:00 pm; the sun had gone down hours prior and the cold winter air made my eyes water upon entering the coffee shop. A large man with full facial tattoos walked through the door and we proceed to do a hongi, a formal Māori I had grown familiar with over the course of the semester, but having my nose pressed against that of a stranger who was twice my size, I could not help but feel a bit anxious. I could feel the confused, and partially concerned, stares of everyone in the coffee shop. I strangely felt at peace, however, as soon as we sat down at the table. He expressed his gratitude for my willingness to meet and immediately asked me to tell him my story. Not only did I share what I was studying, but explained my cultural heritage, family life, aspirations, and past traumas. This did not seem like the skeptical healer I communicated with over email, but rather a familiar friend who could look at me and immediately know my innermost thoughts.

Sensing my open-mindedness and vulnerability, he explained that he would perform a healing on me because the best way to fully understand the significance and effectiveness of indigenous healing is to experience it myself. This process involved sensing my energy pathways (deep breaths, pressure points in arms, hands and head, karakia) and communicating with my ancestors and spirit guides. Although it can be difficult to enter new and culturally different situations from an anthropological perspective, I was fully invested in this healing session from the start. I began to feel a warm sensation in my body and a wave of nausea. Suddenly I began to cry uncontrollably like every emotion in my body was fighting to come out all at once. The healer explained that he was clearing blockages in my energy pathways and communicating with my spirit guides, angels, and deceased relatives in order to understand my pain and suffering. He said that I should also expect to have nausea and strange dreams into the night, but that I should feel significantly better in the morning.

The next day, I walked about fifteen minutes to the local elementary school where the expo was held. Although my experience the night before made me realize that I had no idea what I was walking into, I could not have anticipated the mystifying new world of healing to which I was about to be introduced. I entered the gym of the school and saw about thirty tables, each decorated with a sign reading the type of healing offered. There were fairy healers, crystal healers, mediums, traditional massage therapists, energy synchers, and the one Māori healer. The majority of the people at the event were middle-aged or older, and based on my discussions with people as we floated from table to table, many were regular followers of the New Age Movement who used non-conventional healing practices in lieu of or alongside of Western medicine. The relaxed structure of the exposition provided me the opportunity to engage in casual conversation with healers and guests, and the space was incredibly open. Those who wanted to receive a reading or massage were completely exposed, and this sense of openness contributed to my willingness to receive a healing treatment of my own.

As soon as I saw my healer friend, I helped him set up his table and shadowed him during a mirimiri. During what initially appeared to be a deep-tissue massage, he whispered karakia (ritual chants) to communicate to the patient’s spirit guides. I watched his hands hover over her body to “lift her negative energy” and allow it to pass through his own body. As I stood at her feet bundled in my winter coat, I was in awe of the fact that the healer was sweating profusely before even applying any pressure. He was obviously taking on an emotional load that affected his physical body in a way I had never before encountered. After about an hour on the table, the woman emerged from the black throw blanket in what appeared to be a serene state. She noted that since receiving regular mirimiri and practicing crystal healing, she had felt less anxious now that her energy pathways were cleared. Although shadowing the mirmiri was an intimidating experience and the thought of exposing myself on the table made my stomach turn, my discussion with this regular customer left me feeling more eager than fearful.

As we began the session, the healer told me that the more pressure I was willing to endure, the better my results would be. My heart raced as I rested my body face-down on the table. The healer assured me that my deceased grandparents were at my feet and my spirit guides stood by my head. I listened to the deep and soothing hum of his voice as he began chanting karakia to ask the spirits for permission to start the healing. He positioned his hands over my body, starting with the head and ending with the feet. He first applied pressure on my hands and feet, then moved to my limbs, back, and neck. The force was almost unbearable, but the brief moments of relief between pressure points was almost worth the discomfort. Tears ran down my face, not from the pain, but from the wave of emotions that passed through my body. I do not know if it was the idea of my grandparents at my feet or the overall discomfort of traveling alone in a new city, but the lump in my throat passed as tears flooded eyes.

Keep in mind I am fully aware that this post is out there and many of you probably think I am full of bullshit. To which I say - fair.

I will just leave you with these concluding thoughts. This experience completely shaped my understanding of Māori healing as a holistic practice that encapsulates emotional, physical, and spiritual elements of well-being. For the skeptics out there, I understand and am hoping you at the very least enjoyed the story.