What I Saw, What I Felt
By Kereti Rautangata

Before I even picked up the camera… I heard it.
Laughter.
Not the kind you politely smile at — but real laughter. The kind that fills a room and pulls you in. It was coming from every corner of the Kaumātua Olympics, and straight away, I knew this wasn’t just another event.
It felt like something more.
As I moved through the space, talking to kaumātua, filming, listening, observing… one thing became clear to me very quickly:
This isn’t about the games.
It’s about people.
I spoke with Yvonne Hemara, and she summed it up in a way I kept coming back to throughout the day. She told me, “It’s not too much the winning side of things… it’s just the involvement… having so many lovely people around us.”
That word — involvement — stuck with me.
Because everywhere I looked, people were involved. Not just participating, but connecting. Laughing together. Encouraging each other. Being present.

As I continued speaking with people, I started to understand just how important this space is.
Lourie Morrison, who has been part of organising these events over the years, talked about the relationships that form through it all. She said, “We might not see each other for 2 or 3 years… but we have this amazing affinity with each other.”
That’s what I could feel in the room — kotahitanga.
It didn’t matter where people came from. There was a sense that everyone belonged.
And for some, that belonging is everything.
Yvonne shared with me how isolating life can be at times, especially in more rural settings. She said, “It is very lonely if you’re on your own… meeting together every so often to do these things is awesome.”
That hit me.
Because what I was seeing wasn’t just an event — it was a lifeline for connection.

As I listened more, I started to hear a consistent message come through from almost everyone I spoke to.
Keep moving.
It sounds simple — but the way they spoke about it carried weight.
Eric Roberts told me, “Once you stop doing things… it’s hard to start again.”
Then Minnie Vercoe added to that in her own way: “You’ve got to get out of bed and get going… or you’re going to stay there all day.”
And Tiana Hodge said it even more directly: “Find something that you like doing… just get out there and move.”
As a coach, that message hit home for me.
We talk a lot about performance, about pushing, about outcomes. But here, it was different.
This was about continuity. About life. About staying engaged.
And what stood out to me was how the games themselves supported that. They weren’t about elite performance. They were simple, inclusive, and built for everyone.
Tiana laughed as she said, “It’s just fun really… laughing and joking.”
And honestly, that’s exactly what it looked like.

The more I spoke with people, the more I realised that wellbeing, at this stage of life, is something deeply understood.
Not theoretical — lived.
Audrey Rimaha told me, “Health means a lot… more important now than when we were young.”
But what stood out even more was how often whānau came into the conversation.
Audrey shared, “Whānau… that is the most important part… to be connected and look after one another.”
And Manutai Schuster reinforced that whakaaro: “Whānau keeps us strong.”
That made me reflect on my own world.
How often do we overlook that? The importance of connection. Of people. Of community.
Here, it wasn’t overlooked. It was central.

There was also something else I noticed — a real appreciation for life itself.
It wasn’t complicated.
It wasn’t wrapped up in big ideas.
It was simple.
Minnie said to me, “When I wake up in the morning… that’s a bonus.”
And Tiana followed that with, “Probably being alive.”
That perspective is powerful.
It made me stop and think.
Because sometimes we get so caught up in what’s next, what’s coming, what we’re chasing — that we forget to appreciate what is.
And here, that appreciation was everywhere.

As I wrapped up my interviews, I found myself thinking about what this all means moving forward.
Because there was a clear message being passed down — not through instruction, but through lived example.
Ariki Reiri said something that stuck with me: “Don’t be afraid of getting old… there’s another life out there.”
That’s a powerful statement.
Because what I saw today was proof of that.
This wasn’t an ending stage of life.
It was a continuation. A different chapter — one filled with connection, movement, and purpose.

Walking away from the Kaumātua Olympics, I didn’t feel like I had just covered an event.
I felt like I had witnessed something important.
Something we can all learn from.
That connection matters.
That movement matters.
That joy matters.
And that no matter your age, you still belong.
That laughter I heard at the start?
It stayed with me.
Because it wasn’t just laughter.
It was life
