In early June this year, the Balmoral Seventh Day Adventist school in Auckland celebrated Pasifika night by hosting an auction of artwork. One young artist’s painting caught our eye and we posted it on the Manaui Facebook page – to overwhelming response.
I’m actually not surprised.
Many artists devote years of dedicated practice to develop skills like these… and then when you learn that Dyralle Tamatoa Auora is only 12 years old (exclamation point!) you have to wonder:
First: How does a 12-year-old make such grown up decisions about theme, color, texture, contour etc. in his paintings? and…
Second: What kind of home does this boy come from? It’s one thing to learn the process of painting, but another thing for someone so young to be so confident in his artwork.
His parents are obviously doing something right.
So we sat down with Toa (that’s the name the artist prefers) and both his parents to find out what’s going on here.
The Parents
Toa’s mum is Fili and his dad is Ern.
Fili was born in Samoa and moved to New Zealand to study Business Management. She got her degree from Unitec, where she (‘unfortunately’, she says) met Ernest. She’s been a full time mum for the past 11 years, but prior to having her 3 children, she was a model (she laughs).
Ern was in born in Pukapuka (in the Northern Cook Islands) and migrated to New Zealand in 1983. In the early 2000s he gained a bachelor’s degree in product design then worked in the industry for several years. He’s been drawing since he was in nappies and realized in primary school how much he likes art. Over the years he’s also freelanced as a graphic designer on the side and held exhibitions for his artwork. Ern is currently in his first year of a master’s programme in architecture.
And how do they feel about all the attention their son is getting for his artwork?
Fili: Overwhelmed!
Ern: Happy for the boy – fist pump!
Here’s how the rest of our chat with Toa’s parents went:
How did you know Toa was interested in the creative arts? How old was he at the time?
Ern and Fili: From about 3-years-old he had a unique way of holding a pen. When he was 5, his teacher would try to correct his pen-holding technique, but he refused to change. To this day, he holds the pen the same way. We remember he never drew stick figures. His drawings were always 2D and detailed.
What did you do to help him develop these skills?
Ern: Kids need something to do – most of the time, there was no Internet [at home], but he was never without paper and pen. We made sure he had heaps of paper and boxes lying around, and we allowed him to get creative and just make lots of rubbish. It’s only paper – we can always throw it away. [Also] over the years we’ve spent thousands of dollars on Lego [for him to play with].
Toa always saw me at work – I always showed him the designs I was working on. He was surrounded at home by creativity and design.
How much time does Toa spend working on his art?
Ern: The two things he loves to do in his spare time is reading and drawing. He’s a bookworm.
Fili: We’ve never had a TV at home. Toa has no Internet access, no gaming console… and he’s got no ears (laughs).
Ern: The reason Toa is so skilled is old fashioned discipline (laughs).
Do his siblings also show interest in the creative arts?
Fili: I think these two (Toa’s younger sisters) will be better because all they do is color. They always have paper everywhere, and when we go out to buy toys, they prefer art supplies.
What can other parents do to identify and encourage talents in their own children?
Ern: Take away their electronic gadgets, have affordable art supplies at home – whether it’s boxes from the supermarket, recycled paper from work, homemade playdough or a small kit of Legos – toys that help them develop their hand-eye coordination.
Allow them to make a mess, especially if it’s helping them to learn. There are two types of mess – learning and creative mess, and the kind of mess you cause by running inside with muddy shoes. Understand the difference and keep them separate. With creative mess, it’s only paper anyway – you can throw it away.
At the end of the day, if the kids have no gadgets distracting them, they only have two options: be creative inside or go outside and play.
The young artist, Toa
We couldn’t have an interview about Toa without talking to the young man himself. Here’s what he had to say:
Why do you enjoy painting?
Toa: It’s new for me, but it’s fun because I get to explore colors and new techniques.
What are your favourite images (themes) to paint?
Toa: I like to draw dragons of a more realistic style.
How do you choose which colours to use, for example, to make up a person’s face?
Toa: Mix a few colors and if it looks good just do it.
How did you get so good at art?
Toa: Practice. I always take a sketchbook and a few pens, and steal my dad’s [pens] – I nearly got a hiding for that one (laughs).
I watch Lethal Chris on YouTube on my mum’s phone – when she has data (laughs). He’s an artist of fantasy drawings and comics.
What do you think you will do with art in the future?
Toa: Paint more pieces to sell and do a mini exhibition to buy more supplies
Lots of Asian countries do a coconut and rice dish, but they don’t do it like Samoans do. (As far as I know.)
Alaisa fa’apopo literally means rice that’s been coconut’ed, which of course means that we’ve done something very coconut-y to the rice.
(I’m cracking myself up right now).
It’s all true, though.
The only other thing you need to know about alaisa fa’apopo is that it’s yummmmm and goes perfectly with hot Koko Samoa. Here’s how you eat it.
Warm, sticky coconut rice in a bowl. Steaming hot Koko Samoa in a mug. Scoop up the rice with a spoon, dunk it in the koko, pop it in your mouth. Chase it with a (careful) swig of sweet koko. Oh my life.
I rejoice in alaisa fa’apopo every rare occasion someone (usually my mom) makes it. It happens so infrequently I thought it would be a difficult recipe, but it’s not. It’s so easy, and super cheap, I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to figure this out.
So under mom’s watchful supervision, I made my first batch of alaisa fa’apopo yesterday, and it turned out not too bad.
Here’s the How To:
Alaisa fa'apopo - Samoan coconut rice
Lils
Luscious coconut cream pounded into hot steamy, salted rice... Alaisa fa'apopo is a beautiful Cup Tea treat to go with a strong hot cup of Koko Samoa.
Chuck the rice into a pot, rinse well, then add 6 cups of water and the salt.
Place the pot on a burner and bring to boil, stirring every minute or so.
Cover the pot and turn the hob right down to low. Let sit for 10 minutes, or until the rice is well cooked. It should be slightly wetter than you'd expect for normal rice.
Mash and pour
While the rice is still hot (leave the burner on low), add some coconut cream and start mashing.
Add a bit more coconut cream and keep mashing. Taste the rice and add more salt if necessary (to taste).
Continue pouring and mashing until you've used up both cans of coconut cream.
Taste the rice again. Is it good? Is it mashed up and sticky but not too wet? Do you like the amount of salt in it? Can you taste the yummy coconut cream flavour?
Tweak stuff until you can say yes to all of the above, then turn off the stove because it's done.
Alaisa fa’apopo is great in any weather but it’s even more gratifying in New Zealand, when it’s cold. Or when it’s late at night and you want a heartier snack than chippies.
Manaui represents the nurturing land from which we rise, stretch out into the world, but never abandon. No matter how far we reach, we will always be connected to home – and to each other – through the strong, sinewy roots of our history, family, traditions and way of life.
Okay, but what does the word “Manaui” actually mean?
Here’s the long story:
In Samoa’s matai protocol, every ali’i (high chief) title is connected to an allotment of customary land. The ali’i in my family calls his tulaga maota – the site of his home – ‘Magaui‘.
According to my mother, this name comes from the words, ‘maga‘, an opening, and ‘ui‘, the act of turning or twisting. It refers to something our people were known for back in the day – pigeon hunting!
More specifically, it talks about the slingshot we’d use on the hunt – its Y-shaped head is the maga (opening) and ui is how we’d turn and twist it to find the perfect angle for our shot.
But I’ve loved the word Magaui since long before I knew what it meant. It reminds me that no matter where I am in the world, I’m intrinsically connected to Samoa – to my family, our traditions, our legacy – and that the precise piece of land “…from which we rise” has a name.
I’ve always been entrepreneurial and I love making up names for my little ventures, but I always knew that my one BIG project – the one that would have my heart and soul – would be for the People of Oceania.
My people.
And I knew that this project would need a name as momentous as its purpose. Magaui.
To signify that it was borrowed (and to make it easier to pronounce) I changed its spelling and found out that Manaui – with an n – is the Tongan word for a certain deciduous tree. That got me thinking…
So… I have no idea how panipopo – those decadent buns soaked in sweet, velvety coconut cream – became a Samoan thing.
I know that bakeries in Samoa are amazing, and have been for ages. Even my grandparents talked about getting up before the sun, seleni (shilling) in hand, to buy a fresh loaf of bread and rush it home, still piping hot.
I also know that luscious coconut cream…? Grated coconut meat, twisted and squeezed into liquid, through a husk fibre strainer…? Now that stuff is the nectar of the Polynesian gods.
It wouldn’t have taken long for some brilliant islander to start dipping steamy hot bread into sweetened coconut cream and then be floored by the mother of all lightbulb moments.
But whatever its origin story is (and if you actually know it, please share in the comments below), not many dishes are more iconically Samoan than the beautiful panipopo.
In my extended family, the ability to make good, authentic pagipopo (like they made it back in the old days) is a serious status symbol. My aunt is known around the family circles as the best pagipopo maker, but I have an older cousin who swears he taught her the recipe… and apparently, he got it directly from my grandfather. Oka!
So after I mastered the art of eating pagipopo, the obvious next step for me was learn how to make them. A few years ago, I went to my aunt. She made me swear a vow of secrecy then spent the whole day showing me – step by step – how to make her treasured pagipopo.
Over the next few months, I practiced and practiced (and ate and ate) and got pretty good at making them… and then I posted my aunt’s panipopo recipe on One Samoana.
I know I know… it’s supposed to be secret, but I had to do it!
Only cause back then most of the panipopo recipes online were posted by non-Samoans whose instructions were basically:
Buy some dinner rolls
Dip in coconut milk…
I felt like it was my duty as a Hamo Geek Girl to share an actual Samoan family’s old, authentic recipe for real panipopo.
The response to my original panipopo article was a lot of fun to read. For the most part, people loved it. Check out some of my favourite comments from back then:
Wow. Perfect, perfect, perfect! ‘O le panipopo mo’i lea!
I swear, when you try to tell the people who’ve served the ‘not as mama used to make panipopo’ and they tell you ‘Eh, ‘o le mea mo’i!’–it makes you crazy!
And, now… I am the Mastah Panipopo–hee, hee, hee. Thanks A LOT for the post, you gave me my panipopo sanity back; I knew my childhood taste-buds wasn’t lying.
just had to post up again!! so i made another batch and it went over so well, people actually think i do this on a regular basis!! this recipe has my boyfriend’s family LOVING me right about now!! thank you!! lol!! who knew that panipopo could create such reputation yeah?? lol!! Big faafetai’s to you and especially your auntii!! i hope you post up some more soon!!
SUCCESS!! Everyone loved it & I am super stoked to be able to FINALLY make this from scratch for my family to enjoy. I knew the pagi popo others were making didn’t seem right and it is because they used pre-made dough or frozen dinner rolls. Thanks so much for sharing your wisdom with us!
Yes. I know. I’m pretty cool.
BUT, I also had a lot of people (mostly offline, to my face) complaining that I didn’t include any actual measurements. They were like, but how can I make something if you don’t tell me how many actual cups of flour to use? Or how many exact teaspoons of yeast? And what exact size the pan should be?
And I was like… well, my aunt didn’t give me exact measurements either. What do you want me to do?
It really is about practice. I’ve made pagipopo so many times (you can tell from my pagipopo abs) that the process is pretty automatic to me now.
I still use coffee mugs of flour, heaped up just past the rim. I still add just enough butter so the mixture feels silky all rubbed between my fingers. I still stir in just enough warm water so that the batter is thick but jiggly. Are those not accurate measurements?
I get it, though. Not everybody is a fai mea palafu – I mean, a natural – in the kitchen like me. And even I get this pagipopo recipe wrong sometimes, like when I’m distracted and forget a step. And sure, writing the recipe down will help everyone to get more predictable results… So I finally gave in.
I’ve just spent the last couple days making pagipopo – refining things, getting my house to taste-test and critique, eating way more of those yummy pagi than I should (it’s for science) – to finally get you some actual, palagi-style measurements.
Now everyone can give this recipe a go:
Authentic Samoan panipopo (coconut buns)
Lils
Probably the most iconic Samoan dessert, luscious panipopo is a must-have for those especially momentous family gatherings. This one is an old, Palelei family recipe adapted for the world by a Hamo Geek Girl.
1cancoconut cream(or 425ml fresh coconut cream, if you're lucky enough to have it)
2tablespoonsplain flourfor thickening
1cupwhite sugar
Instructions
The Bun
Making the batter is so easy. Start by dumping your four cups of flour into a large bowl, add the salt and then rub in the butter until the flour feels 'silky' and gets a little bit clumpy. Then make a well in the middle of the bowl and chuck your sugar in there.
Time to work on the yeast. Put your 3 teaspoons of yeast into a smaller bowl (that's not made of plastic). Slowly add a cup of very warm water and stir until the yeast is dissolved... sometimes I get in there with my fingers to help the dissolving process.
Next, pour the yeast-water into the flour mixture - into the well with the sugar. You should see the yeast begin to bubble up as it makes contact with the sugar.
And then you just grab a wooden spoon and fold the flour into the liquid - mix it all up - adding more warm water (2 to 3 cups) until it becomes a thick batter that still jiggles a bit when you shake the bowl.
Cover the bowl lightly with a clean towel or baking paper and leave it in a warm, dry spot to rise for 2 hours.
When you come back to the dough, it should have doubled in size with lots of holes in it. Spread 2 cups of fresh flour out on a clean counter, then pour the sticky, hole-y batter on to it. Then you're going to fold the new flour into the dough and knead it until it's a lot less sticky because it's absorbed almost all of the flour. (This shouldn't take much more than 5 minutes).
When you've got a dough that's a lot more solid than batter, easier to hold but still a little bit sticky, chuck it back in the bowl and cover again for another round of rising.
This second rise should only take an hour and a bit. The dough should have doubled in size again but with only a few holes this time. On your clean counter top, dump another half cup of fresh flour because you're going to knead the dough again, but only to get rid of a little more sticky-ness.
And now it's time to roll your buns. That means, cut a palm-full of dough, roll it between your hands into a short, thick rope thing, then tie it like an 'almost' knot. If that's too hard, you can always just roll a sphere - up to you.
Oh wait!! Now is the perfect time to pre-heat your oven - 200 degrees Celsius if you're in NZ... or whatever that is in Fahrenheit (400?). Okay, continue.
Place your buns in neat rows in a pan that can take up to 24 buns (sorry, I'm still not sure what size pan that is). Let them sit there for a while (they will continue to rise) as you go prepare the coconut cream sauce.
The Coconut Cream Sauce
Pour one can (or 450ml) of coconut cream into a container. Chuck 2 tablespoons of plain flour into the empty can (or a cup) and slowly pour warm water into it - stirring, stirring, stirring - until the flour dissolves.
When the can/cup is full of water, pour the mixture into the coconut cream. Add one more can/cup of warm water - still stirring - and then stir in a cup of sugar.
The Final Step
Wow. This recipe is easy, but really time consuming, a ea? But we're finally at the end - yay!
You just need to pour your coconut cream sauce into the pan with the buns (save maybe a cup of cream to add halfway through the bake) then put the pan in the oven and go put your feet up for 20 minutes.
Come back after 20 minutes to check that your buns haven't burnt and the sauce hasn't spilled over and the oven is heating everything up evenly, etc. The sauce should have cooked down a little bit, so now's a good time to add the last bit of coconut cream, then close the oven for another little while.
After around another 20-25 mins (roughly 45 minutes in total), your buns should be golden on top with coconut cream bubbling around the bottom. Take the pan out and cover it with tin foil so the buns don't dry out as they cool.
Done! Call the family over, make a cuppa something nice, and share the panipopo love.
I think it’s pretty clear now why authentic, Samoan panipopo – especially this recipe – is food for MY soul. It’s all about family.
It makes me think of the grandfather I only know from stories and photos… a carpenter who built houses and cathedrals, a businessman who ran plantations and stores and inspired a Samoan newspaper… a caring babysitter who nurtured me as an infant when my parents had to work.
I smile thinking about my aunt – so proud of her baking skills, so generous with her knowledge… that apparently came from my cousin? I love that I’ve joined the family pagipopo tradition, but it comes with a challenge: who’s hand is really the best at making this treat?
Pagipopo reminds me of Christmas and New Years, birthdays and funerals, when the family is together and it’s time for Cup Tea.
I hope this recipe becomes a staple for your family, too.
Quick Samoan Language Tips:
Pani = bun, which isn’t quite the same as bread (or dinner roll), which is why this recipe does not include milk or eggs. Instead, this makes the same dough that’s similar (but not exactly the same) to the kind used for Samoan pork buns or German buns.
Popo = coconut, specifically mature coconuts with thick meat that’s grated and squeezed to produce gorgeous coconut cream.
Panipopo is the correct name for this dish, but in casual-talk, Samoans will also pronounce it pagipopo – where the ‘g’ sounds like the ‘ng’ in ‘hanger’.
The plural of panipopo is also panipopo.
—-
Tried this recipe? Please tell us about it in the comments below.
Ohh, and if you make this recipe and post a photo up on social, please use the hashtag #manauiPanipopo so we can check it out, too. 🙂
Every Samoan should be proud to know these stories from our history. These will make great bedtime stories for the kids, too.
Tongan King vs the Sons of Atiogie
In the old old days (like from 1200 to 1300), Samoa was ruled by Tonga.
For 100 years even!
It’s ancient history now – no hard feelings – but apparently, the Tongan king at the time was a bit of a tyrant.
In those days, a man named Atiogie (he’s a famous guy in Samoan legends, you should look him up) had 3 sons and a grandson who grew up to really not like this Tongan occupation. These brothers and their nephew got so rebellious and riled up so many other protesters that it lead to a military conflict kinda situation.
The angry Samoans drove the king’s forces from one end of Upolu to the other until the king had no choice but to board one of his naval ships and head home to Tonga. But the old man’s last words to his former subjects expressed admiration for their valiant effort:
Mālie toa, mālie tau
…which means something like, “Respect to you, warriors. Good fight!”
Germany vs Le Mau a Pule
Lauaki Namulau’ulu Mamoe, 1909. Photo by Thomas Andrew. Te Papa.
If only the fighting had stopped there. Thanks to lots of drama and two civil wars, even, our islands were far from at peace.
Those clever bigger countries lurking in the Pacific took advantage of all the local fighting. They chose sides and provided weapons to perpetuate the war (and stole land while the locals were busy killing each other, but that’s another story).
And then, in 1900, our country was finally divided and conquered. The USA took what is now known as American Samoa, and Germany took the rest.
Yes, today’s independent Samoa could have still been German Samoa, but not all our people were happy about that. The most outspoken protesters were a group of early freedom fighters led by a Savai’i man named Lauaki Namulau’ulu Mamoe.
This guy was a pretty impressive orator who led the Mau a Pule in challenging Germany’s control of our islands.
Mau means opinion and can refer to being firm or resistant. A pule is a leader, so Mau a Pule is something like… the resistance of the leaders.
Germany eventually had enough of all this outspoken-ness and exiled Namulau’ulu plus friends to Saipan, Northern Mariana Islands.
That happened in 1909, Germany’s rule was over five years later, then in 1915, Samoa’s new colonists (New Zealand) sent a ship to bring Namalau’ulu back to Samoa.
Sadly, the old man died on the journey home.
New Zealand vs O Le Mau a Samoa
After New Zealand was in control for a while, Samoans started to miss Germany’s rule. Things got that bad. (Find out just how bad over at One Samoana).
Only eleven years after Namalau’ulu died, Samoa was in full on resistance mode again, this time against New Zealand. The new wave of protests were led by a businessman named Taisi Olaf F. Nelson and our Head of State at the time, Tupua Tamasese Lealofi III.
Taking their cue from the first resistance, they called this new movement Le Mau a Samoa and published a newspaper – The Samoan Guardian – to help spread their message.
…and it caught on in a big way. One of my favourite stories is how women took over Le Mau after their husbands were forced into hiding by the New Zealand military.
Nelson was eventually exiled to New Zealand, but he just took his protesting all the way to the League of Nations in Geneva.
Back in Samoa, Tupua Tamasese Lealofi III paid the ultimate price for his part in the protest against New Zealand. He was gunned down by military police during a peaceful demonstration.
Even after this tragedy, it still took a few more decades before New Zealand left Samoa.
In 2018, Samoa will celebrate 56 years of independence. May we never forget the brave men and women in our history who loved us enough to fight for our freedom.
—
Are you a descendant of any of these historical heroes? Please share your stories about your ancestors in the comments below.[Featured image: Parade, Apia. From the album: Samoa, circa 1916, Samoa, maker unknown. Te Papa (O.041845)]
Recent Comments