Momoe Rangi Oberg left her homeland of the Cook Islands for New Zealand as a young teen. Employed by a farming family in rural North Island, Rangi quickly learned the palagi (European) way of life and later married a palagi. A mother of five, dedicated Pacific Island community worker and businesswoman, Rangi tells her story…

I was born in my mother's village, Matavera, in Rarotonga. She was from the Ngati Ta tribe. My father was a planter from the Ngati Te Pa tribe and was brought up by his relations high chief Pa Ariki. After my father died, my mother remarried. I have five brothers and one sister.

We were so happy growing up in the islands that we didn’t know we were poor. We created our own toys and games; we used vines from the beach for skipping ropes and climbed palm trees. My father became a successful planter. He wanted to spoil us so he bought us shoes and bikes abut we didn’t use them; we were happy enough just running around with our cousins and the other children.

At three or four in the morning we would go into the bush looking for mangoes to take to school. Because of the heat school would start at seven in the morning and finish at noon. Coming home with our cousins and friends we'd take our time, eating chestnuts and collecting shells at the beach. When it rained we’d just get a large leaf and put it over our heads. When we wanted to go to the pictures, we’d go and sell oil by the sack for a sixpence or shilling. All our mamas would be sewing tivaevae (quilts) or weaving baskets.

I love to talk about those days but I know some people who grew up in the Islands are ashamed; they want to make out that they come from somewhere else. I remind them that we all come from the “wop-wops”, and from the taro patch – we should be proud. I feel sad for those who grow up here because they haven't had the opportunity to enjoy that side of life. They miss out on the chance to create things for themselves. Today the young ones have a motorbike or a car to take them places and they spend most of their time watching TV. NZ is considered the ‘better life’ but when you experience the islands and then come back here, you can appreciate both ways.

I came to NZ when I was 13. In those days girls were brought out from the islands to work on farms around the country. I went to Martinborough in the North Island and lived with the McCleods, a farming family. I become very much a part of their family, whereas some of the Cook Island girls were treated as servants by their employers; they ate in the kitchen and were not involved in family gatherings. I did what I liked. I learned to drive a car and would pick up the girls to go to dances. I was very lucky being with the McCleods, being treated as one of their own.

Ruth was like a mother to me and my achievements are a credit to her. She taught me the European way of living. I learned to cook for the family and VIP functions, how to set places at the table and arrange flowers. These skills were very helpful for me later when I moved away, but it wasn’t easy at the beginning. I used to get angry being told to eat with a knife and fork, to sit up straight, keep my elbows off the table, and not sniff or make noises when I drink.

After 11 years with Ruth’s family, I was ready for a change and moved to Wellington. I found a job at the St George Hotel, owned by the Drewitt family. I became very close to them also. I looked after the old man and would take his supper to him at night. He was 84. The boss was very good to me and involved me in special occasions and I met lots of famous people. When they had conferences, I’d take the refreshments trolley in. My boss insisted I also take a saucer to collect money for the tips, which was embarrassing.

It was at the hotel that I met my husband, Norman. He was working as a night porter while I was a waitress on the day shift, so I would be on my way out when he was on his way in. One day he offered to take me to church and we became very good friends from there. I fell in love with him but he pretended that he wasn’t keen. Sometimes he’d say he couldn’t pick me up and I thought ‘oh yes, he’s playing games with me’. In the end, Norman decided we were going to get married.

The Drewitt family was not happy because I’d only just met him. They called me up to the top floor where they lived. They asked ‘how do you know he’s the right one for you?’ and I said 'I know he’s the right one for me'.

We got married in 1957 and flew down to Christchurch the day after the wedding. We lived in New Brighton until this house came up for sale. Norman's parents lived next door and they helped us with money to buy the house and we’ve been here ever since.

When I came here I didn’t know anyone. I kept in touch with my family in Rarotonga right from the day I came to NZ. When I married Norman, I’d go back nearly every year to see mum and dad until they died. In 1984 we started building a home in Rarotonga. Norman died before it was finished but our daughter lived there for six years.

I worked at the New City Hotel managing the dining room until I got sick and the doctor warned me I should leave. I left and never worked in paid employment again. But my life was to become very full and busy raising our daughters Stephanie, Frances and Michelle and looking after Norman's parents. I have a son and daughter from a previous relationship who were raised in Rarotonga by my mother, so I have five children in total, and 12 grandchildren.

In Christchurch I began getting involved with the Pacific Island (PI) people through Reverend Kenape, Samoan minister of the Pacific Island Presbyterian Church (PIPC) and dedicated community worker Louisa Crawley, also Samoan. Louisa in particular opened the doors for a lot of Maori and Pacific Islanders. She helped push us through. At times we’d say “We can’t do that” and she’d reply “Yes you can” and leave us to it. Our ability to stand up for ourselves is a credit to her. The community should be thankful.

There weren’t many Cook Islanders in the community when we first moved to Christchurch, but as more and more arrived I helped them settle in their new environment by finding flats and jobs for them. When they got into trouble with the law, I went to court on their behalf. The highlight of my community work is when I’ve been successful and the judge has left them in my care. I was happy and determined to help keep that person from going to court again.

I didn't only help the Cook Islands people; my job, my interest, is the welfare of all PI people. For many years I have represented the PI community on various boards, committees, and interview panels at: Kingsley, the Housing Corporation, Christchurch Polytechnic, the Macmillan Brown Centre for Pacific Studies at Canterbury University, Teachers Training College, the Christchurch City Council, and more recently, the Canterbury Pacific Health Trust.

The PI community has known me for so long, and knows that I am there for them. The majority of PI people here are Samoan and I earned their respect. I’ve had good working relationships with them and made good friends.

But it was a most upsetting time for me when the PI community attempted to shut down what is not the Ministry of Pacific Island Affairs office that I, and others, had worked hard to set up. At the time there were five staff members who helped many people get jobs; they may have been picking apples or pruning trees, but at least they were off the unemployment benefit with money in their pockets. The PI community decided it wasn’t good enough for our people and wanted to shut it down. I was so angry and said to them, “If you don’t think it’s good enough, why don’t you put your hands in your pockets and give them money?” Of course they wouldn’t. They tried three times to shut it down. I was determined to keep the place – not for me, but for all Pacific Islanders.

The church has been a great comfort to me. Everywhere I go - to meetings, to court - I pray. Things don't always work out the way I want it to and I accept that it’s meant to be that way. It’s funny, when we would come out of meetings, my friends would have tickets on their cars and I’d have none. I would tell them it's because I pray. They would get mad and say 'We do the same, we pray!' And I'd reply, ‘Well it’s obviously not getting up there – your prayers must only reach half way!' And we'd all have a good laugh.

I don’t have records for the work I do. When people borrow money from me, I don’t write it down. Some people say I’m stupid but giving is my nature. My mother was the same. She would give her last cent away to anybody. As they say, you always get back what you give in other ways. I have God’s blessing for the things that I do.

I taught my girls if somebody hurts never hurt back; forgive them. Pay the bad with the good, because the good always overcomes the bad. That’s how we’ve lived. If somebody comes for help when I’m not home the girls naturally know what to do, and do it.

In 1965 we bought Smiths Bookshop, a secondhand bookstore. We catered for the university, the polytechnic, teachers college and all the schools. Lecturers, lawyers and judges would come in, browse and smoke away while I made them cups of tea. After Norman died in 1984, I left the shop for our son-in-law to run until we sold it last year. I still own the building.

Norman spent all our money on books. He also got crafty and got me into collecting Victorian jewellery. He got mad though, when I got the knack of auctioning; I kept putting my hand up and that costs money! It was a happy time. I also began collecting old ruby glass, postcards, old linen and scent bottles while Norman continued to buy books. When Norman died, I lost interest in collecting.

I had taught Norman the giving side of an Islander, and he became that way more than I am. People just loved him. The Samoan people, the Sisters at the convent, they all loved him. He was proud of them too. Whenever they’d come into the shop he'd give them all a kiss and show off to the other customers and say, 'this is island style'. That’s why when he died, mostly Samoans came to the funeral. Some Cook Islanders don’t like to be with the Samoan people – they like to do their own thing. I’m not like that and that’s why I have so many friends. When my husband was sick, so many of my Samoan and palagi friends visited in hospital. When he died they helped with the funeral service and dinner.

A lot of people say when you’re married to a palagi, it’s difficult to have your Island culture. It’s not. You work together, you adapt to both cultures and it can be wonderful. Of course it depends on your husband or wife – they may not want to be an Islander, they want to be palagi.

It has been a full and happy life. Many times I’ve wanted to retire but I can’t. When people come to me for help I try to help them. I have had my ups and downs. Sometimes you think you’re doing well and the next minute you get stabbed in the back. It was the encouragement of my husband that got me through those times. He would say, ‘Why do you get upset? You don’t go to them, they come to you for help.’ And he’s right. Why should I worry when what they say is not true? I learned to be strong then.