What a Niue Christmas in Aotearoa looks like to me

OPINION: The smell of roast lamb, chop suey, and the delicious takihi dish sums up my Christmas morning.

As Christmas Day nears, I reflect on how this memorable holiday has been celebrated.

This year will be different, as my family now lives in Australia. So, I’ll reminisce about our past Christmas celebrations.

Christmas Day

My youngest brother's eagerness to unwrap all the presents would wake the household at dawn.

My brother Riley next to presents on Christmas morning. Photo/PMN News/Matt Manukuo

We would then greet each other with a ‘Merry Christmas’, say a prayer to bless the day and start unwrapping all our gifts.

It was quite amusing since my family had eight members, which meant the present opening would take quite some time.

My dad wouldn’t hang around too long, as he would be busy in the kitchen cooking or outside preparing to put the umu down.

On Christmas Day, he’d show me and my brothers how to prepare the umu in the pit at the back of the house.

When I was younger, Dad would assign me the task of wetting newspapers in our wheelbarrow while the rocks heated up in the pit from the fire he had lit earlier.

Once the rocks were red hot, my brothers and I would use tongs to remove them, clear the pit, and then place the food inside.

Our Takihi before it is put in the oven. Photo/PMN News/Matt Manukuo

My dad had prepared food wrapped in foil earlier in the morning, including dishes like polo (nightshade and coconut cream) mixed with different meats.

We’d load the food into the pit, place the hot rocks on top, and then cover everything with the wet newspapers and tarpaulin.

Preparing the food

Recently, my parents have begun teaching me and my younger brothers how to cook traditional Niue dishes we enjoy on Christmas Day.

I was tasked with buying the taro, pawpaw, and coconut cream to make Niue’s national dish, takihi.

On Christmas Eve, my brother and I would begin preparing the food. I would peel the taro, carefully using a tea towel to avoid getting itchy hands (as my mum advised).

After peeling, we would move on to the pawpaw, removing the seeds and slicing them into thin pieces.

My mum would let us know if the slices were too thick. We would then layer the pawpaw, taro, and coconut cream repeatedly.

Wrapped in foil, our takihi creation would go into the oven for the next day, and once it was perfectly cooked, it tasted delicious!

Waiting for the umu

The food in the umu takes about five to six hours to prepare, so there was a long wait. In the meantime, family members would come over.

My grandparents were typically the first to arrive, including my great-grandmother, who would come to say another prayer to bless the day.

Here is the video I played for my nana from my time in a Niuean group.

Our house was always lively. Family members would come in and out, bringing presents, smiles, and laughter.

I remember playing some Niue songs and performing for my nana while we waited for the food.

Unpacking the umu

Once lunchtime arrived, my mum would finish making desserts and other dishes while I joined my dad to unpack the umu.

As we unveiled the layers above the hot rocks, I recall the steam burning my hands.

Dad would taste a bit of the food. The coconut cream had melted perfectly into some dishes, making everything taste amazing.

After unpacking the rest of the food, we would load up the car and head to my grandparents' house to enjoy Christmas lunch together!