logo
Hato Hone St John Introduces Samoan Language To Caring Caller Programme

Hato Hone St John Introduces Samoan Language To Caring Caller Programme

Scoopa day ago

Press Release – Hato Hone St John
This Samoa Language Week, Hato Hone St John is announcing the introduction of Samoan language to their popular Community Health programme: Caring Caller, with new volunteer callers fluent in Samoan joining the team.
Emotional support is now just a friendly 'Talofa' away for the Samoan community in Aotearoa New Zealand.
This Samoa Language Week, Hato Hone St John is announcing the introduction of Samoan language to their popular Community Health programme: Caring Caller, with new volunteer callers fluent in Samoan joining the team.
The St John Caring Caller programme is a volunteer-based telephone friendship service that offers companionship to those in need. This free service facilitates meaningful, regular connections that strengthen social bonds and enhance mental and emotional wellbeing. Clients who engage with a Caring Caller benefit from having someone to talk to, fostering resilience against the effects of loneliness and social isolation.
Eleni Mason, Hato Hone St John Community Engagement Manager, sees Caring Caller as an essential service to the Samoan community and the wider Pacific communities in general, saying 'many of our elderly community members are left alone at home while their family members go to work or to school. Some may have recently moved from Samoa to New Zealand and are having to adapt to new social norms. This sustained experience of loneliness can have detrimental effects on their health and overall well-being.'
With ASB as the official sponsor, the programme has been able to grow and diversify to meet the needs of different communities throughout the country. To date, the Caring Caller service is offered in English, Chinese dialects, Hindi, and now, Samoan.
ASB General Manager, Helen Fitzsimons, says, 'ASB is honoured to have partnered with Hato Hone St John since 2008. Through our work with Caring Caller, we've seen how the power of social connection helps to build mental wellbeing. This Samoa Language Week, we are proud to support the launch of the Samoan Caring Caller programme and the positive impact it will bring to the Samoan community.'
In support of this announcement, senior members of the Samoan community have fittingly adopted the name 'Gaualofa' for Caring Caller.
'Gaualofa translates to 'just love'. It is used widely in a popular Samoan phrase 'e leai se gaumata'u, ae na o le gaualofa', which means 'there is no anger, just love'. It is a truly appropriate and fitting name for the Caring Caller service due to the positive impact it has on all those involved,' says Eleni.
It is important to note that Caring Caller doesn't just benefit the client. The programme has a high volunteer retention rate, with Hato Hone St John callers finding their role within the service personally rewarding.
'I am a passionate supporter of Gaualofa, as part of the project team and having personally moved from Samoa to New Zealand myself, which was a challenging time, for my social wellbeing particularly. I am committed to promoting the inclusion of Pacific people in this Hato Hone St John programme and we are actively looking for both clients and callers from within the Samoan community to reach out,' says Eleni.
For more information or to begin your sign-up process, you can call 0800 4 CALLER (0800 422 5537) or visit the Hato Hone St John website:

Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

The Spinoff Essay: A bit of pain
The Spinoff Essay: A bit of pain

The Spinoff

time18 minutes ago

  • The Spinoff

The Spinoff Essay: A bit of pain

'I'm lucky; I've had it for only five years or so.' David Hill on living with chronic pain. The Spinoff Essay showcases the best essayists in Aotearoa, on topics big and small. Made possible by the generous support of our members. I ache. I'm sore, nearly all the time. I'm one of the estimated 900,000 New Zealanders who suffer from chronic pain. Chronic or neuropathic pain is usually defined as pain that's lasted for more than three months. I'm lucky; I've had it for only five years or so. Multiple thousands of Kiwis have suffered for decades, or their entire life. More statistics. Over 40% of people in the UK are thought to suffer, at various times and to various degrees. (The US estimates almost 50%.) For over-75s in Britain, the figure lifts to 65%. About 80% of this is back and neck pain. In Aotearoa, a 2018 report from research group Sapere suggested that chronic pain costs our health system some $2 billion annually, plus another $15 billion in lost production and benefit costs. Utterly predictably (think housing, working conditions, $60 for a GP visit, $75 for a physio session), it affects lower socio-economic groups more. Oh, and (think trad Kiwi male stereotypes this time), women are more likely to report it than men. In my case, it's cervical spondylosis with foraminal narrowing and radiculopathy. I like to roll out the phrase so I can watch listeners' eyes cross as they wonder how much time I've got left. English translation: my neck is stuffed. Age, plus bad posture at the keyboard, means the cushioning discs between cervical vertebrae have worn thin. Bone spurs have formed. My mobility is limited; I get deep pain in the neck and between shoulder blades, plus intermittent giddiness. I've gone into detail because, like most sufferers – and I dislike that word – I usually don't say much about it. People with chronic pain get little sympathy. Who wants to hear about an ailment that goes on and on, especially when it usually comes with no bandages, slings, plaster, other visible signs of affliction? Like Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and Long Covid, it's easily seen, even by some health professionals, as self-pitying, even malingering. ' Whatever happened to 'pull yourself together'?' I heard one sceptic sniff, after an acquaintance had vented over his months of continuing hip and leg discomfort. It's the least telegenic of ailments; if we do appear on screen, we're usually caricatured as boring old whingers who need to snap out of it. ' It's all in your head,' is another common dismissal. True. Also stupid. Of course it's in the head, because that's where the brain's pain receptors are. We don't register any injury or discomfort till those receptors fire. Trouble is, if the pain continues for more than a few hours, your pre-frontal cortex starts assessing the sensation in terms of what it may mean long-term, and begins reinforcing the synapses associated with stress and discomfort. The brain's 'pain switch' gets stuck in the ON position, and your body becomes convinced of its distress. Neurologist William Davies notes that 'pain carves a path directly between the realms of mind and body'. It's called Control Sensitisation: just as Pavlov's dogs slobbered when a bell rang, almost any tug or tension for a chronic pain sufferer sends those brain receptors into power drive. It means that pain can become a habit, and like many unpleasant habits, it's hard to get rid of. A cycle of discomfort – sleep deprivation – stress – more discomfort and more stress can become established. Withdrawal and depression may follow, with the symbolic Black Dog liable to squat and crap on any of your days. So yes, it is all in the head, and it's utterly genuine. There have been some curious associated discoveries. Women's limbic system responds to pain more than men's, so women often experience greater emotional distress, while the fact that men's pre-frontal cortex is more affected means they may see the issue primarily as a problem to be analysed. And chronic pain may be exacerbated by apparently unassociated events; Brexit, the Covid pandemic, even the Trump presidency saw a rise in reported cases. You're right: the Orange Roughy can indeed become a pain in the arse. Bad news for the next few years. Chronic pain victims make unrewarding patients, even to sympathetic doctors – and not all are. Symptoms are frequently vague and diverse. We're the unwell who can sometimes seem well. Our GPs ask questions, refer us to specialists who ask more questions, at $2 per syllable, rule out nastier possibilities if you're lucky (and that is indeed a help), and usually intone variations on the theme of 'y ou'll have to live with it'. I sympathise with them, actually: as with Chronic Fatigue or Long Covid, we seldom give them the satisfaction of finding a specific cause. So chronic pain is a formless and often unresponsive condition. It can take a long time to get a diagnosis, and it seldom comes with any clear path of action. It can be treated, but seldom cured – whatever that last word may mean. What are the treatments? Painkillers, anti-inflammatories of course, though all of them, except perhaps paracetamol, come with potential side effects. A TROUP (Trends and Risks of Opioid Use for Pain) study in the US found that 22-26% of people prescribed opioids for non-malignant chronic pain ended up misusing their drugs. Distraction, meditation, exercise, diet, therapy, physio and chiropractic, the analytical and shared talk of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy are other courses of action – and action is an early step to taking some degree of control. The New Zealand Pain Society (you'll find them online) offers sensible, practical programmes and resources. Complex Chronic Illness Support, also online, can help as well. Our local hospital used to run chronic pain workshops, where physio, dietitian, psychiatrist, counsellor would reassure attendees that they weren't malingerers; it was a genuine ailment, and here was a list of things that might help. They're the only workshops I've ever attended where some participants stood up every 10 minutes and lay down in the aisle for a bit. They were enormously valuable for their collegial quality, finding that you weren't the only sufferer. They've been discontinued – more funding cuts at Whatu Ora, I gather. Alan Gordon in his book The Way Out estimated that in 2021, there were 1.2 billion chronic pain sufferers worldwide. The number is rising: we're living longer and hurting for longer periods. Other contributing factors include people expecting to be pain-lite and becoming more inclined to seek help when we're not, plus our living in an increasingly isolated society, where loneliness aggravates almost any condition. The outlook isn't great. The future, for me at any rate? Keep learning – in the most positive sense of the verb – to live with it. Take unexpected solace from the fact that on good days, the world can seem brighter and more rewarding than it did before my neck started to pack up. And wonder if assault with the nearest deadly weapon might be a pretty reasonable response to anyone who tells me that it's all in my head.

Lemon heaven
Lemon heaven

Otago Daily Times

time3 hours ago

  • Otago Daily Times

Lemon heaven

Penelope Maguire celebrates the bright flavours citrus brings us in our darker seasons. I think I write about citrus around this time every year — but how could I not? With the darkening afternoons and the pull to lean into heartier, more comforting meals, citrus arrives like nature's sweet little reminder that brightness still exists, even on the greyest days. Lemons, oranges, mandarins and limes do more than just brighten a dish — their sharp acidity and aromatic oils cut through the richness of winter meals, making them a perfect seasonal pairing. I don't think that's a coincidence. Our digestion is closely tied to our circadian rhythms and, in winter, with shorter days and less natural light, everything tends to slow down — digestion included. Hormonal shifts, darker evenings, and disrupted meal timing can all make our digestive systems feel a little more sluggish. This is where lemons really shine. Traditionally used to support digestion and liver function, they can stimulate gastric juices, encourage bile production (essential for breaking down fats), and ease the heaviness that follows a rich meal. They're also high in vitamin C and flavonoids — antioxidants that support vitality, immunity, and the liver's natural detoxification processes. And yes — I realise the irony of following that with dessert recipes. But sometimes, especially in the darker months, a little sweetness is medicine too. This month, I'm sharing two of my favourite lemony recipes: a delicate Lavender & Lemon Posset, served in hollowed lemon halves, and a lush Lemon, Lemon Verbena & Boysenberry Cake with a fluffy cream cheese icing and swirls of lemon curd. The lavender and lemon verbena are optional — so don't let their absence stop you from making these — but if you've got a lemon verbena still hanging on in the garden, now's the perfect time to use it. Enjoy! Lavender and lemon posset A delicate, vintage-style dessert that feels light and elegant, served in its own pretty lemon shell. It's quick to make, beautiful on the table, and a perfect creamy, sweet and acidic finish to a winter meal. Ideally, you'll want to use culinary or English lavender ( Lavandula angustifolia ) for this — it's usually available dried from herb stores, or you might find some in your own garden. If you only have the more common French lavender ( Lavandula dentata ), that's OK too — just use a lighter hand, as its flavour is a little more camphorous. One or two whole flowerheads will be plenty. Ingredients 2 cups cream ¾ cup sugar Zest of 1 lemon 4 large lemons (you'll need ½ cup juice, and the shells for serving) ½ tsp dried culinary lavender (or 1 tsp fresh) Method 1. Slice lemons in half lengthways and juice them (you'll need ½ cup of juice). Carefully scoop out the pulp using a small serrated knife and spoon. Trim the bases so they sit flat. Chill in the fridge while you make the posset. 2. In a small pot, combine cream, sugar, lemon zest, and lavender. Bring to a gentle simmer and let it bubble softly for 5 minutes to thicken. 3. Remove from heat and stir in the lemon juice until fully combined. Strain out the zest and lavender. 4. Pour the warm posset into the lemon halves using a small jug or spoon. Chill for at least 4 hours or overnight. 5. Serve cold, topped with a tiny pinch of dried lavender or edible petals. Lemon, lemon verbena and boysenberry cake This cake is a showstopper for midwinter celebrations and it makes the most of lemons in every part: cake, syrup, icing and curd. Yes, it takes a little time, but on a winter weekend, what better way to spend the day? Serves up to 12 Ingredients • 200g butter, softened • 225g caster sugar • 4 large eggs • Zest of 1 lemon • 2 Tbsp finely chopped lemon verbena (optional) • 2 tsp vanilla extract • 120g gluten-free flour • 1½ tsp baking powder • ½ tsp salt • 160g ground almonds Lemon syrup • Zest and juice of 2 lemons • 75g sugar • 1 sprig lemon verbena or lemon balm (optional) Method 1. Preheat oven to 170°C. Butter and line a 20-23cm round springform tin. 2. In a large bowl or stand mixer, beat the sugar, lemon zest and lemon verbena to release their oils. 3. Add the soft butter and vanilla and beat until pale and fluffy. 4. Beat in the eggs one at a time, scraping the bowl between additions. 5. Gently fold in the flour, baking powder, salt and ground almonds until just combined. 6. Pour into the prepared tin and bake for 30-40 minutes, or until a skewer comes out clean. 7. While the cake bakes, gently heat the syrup ingredients until the sugar dissolves. 8. While the cake is still warm, prick all over and spoon over the syrup. Let cool completely before icing. To finish Frost the cooled cake with the cream cheese icing. Spoon lemon curd over the top and scatter with edible flowers, herbs or dried lemon pieces. Cream cheese and boysenberry icing Ingredients • 125g (½ a tub) cream cheese, softened • 125g butter, softened • 2½ cups icing sugar, sifted • ½ cup boysenberries, drained • Pinch salt Method Beat the cream cheese and butter until smooth. Add icing sugar and beat until fluffy. Fold in the boysenberries — swirl for a marbled effect, or mix in fully for a vibrant pink icing. Lemon and lemon verbena curd Ingredients • 3 egg yolks • ½ cup sugar • Zest and juice of 2 lemons • 2 tsp lemon verbena, finely chopped (optional) • 75g cold butter, cubed Method Whisk yolks, sugar, zest, juice and verbena in a small pot. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until thickened. Reduce the heat and stir in butter till it melts into the curd. Strain for a smoother finish. Chill before using.

Kilikiti Bats Bring Ara Campuses Together For Samoa Language Week
Kilikiti Bats Bring Ara Campuses Together For Samoa Language Week

Scoop

timea day ago

  • Scoop

Kilikiti Bats Bring Ara Campuses Together For Samoa Language Week

Press Release – Ara Institute of Canterbury Ltd The event is the vision of Aras Te Whatu Ora funded Pacific lead in Mental Health and Wellbeing, Greg Galovale, who wanted to involve trades students in a community project with a fitness focus. Samoan kilikiti pate (cricket bats) specially hand crafted and decorated by students will be at the centre of Gagana Samoa (Samoa Language Week) celebrations at Ara Institute of Canterbury. In a first for Ara, a tournament will take place bringing together teams from across the institute to play the Pacific nation's favourite sport. The event is the vision of Ara's Te Whatu Ora funded Pacific lead in Mental Health and Wellbeing, Greg Galovale, who wanted to involve trades students in a community project with a fitness focus. 'I was seeking to promote joinery in the Pacific space but also health, wellbeing and community,' Golavale said. 'Our Level 3 Pre-Trade joinery tutors Tim and Jody saw the prototype and got right behind the idea. The end result is fantastic!' he said. Kilikiti bats were also made, decorated and gifted to key community groups who participated in Moana Health workshops to launch Gagana Samoa on campus. The event followed the 2025 theme 'Ia malu lou sā. Folau i lagimā – a well-grounded self is a successful self.' The Wednesday kilikiti tournament will see teams from Ara's Woolston, City and Manawa (nursing) campuses line up alongside a team made up of the joinery students who crafted the bats. Joinery student Theresa Desouza said it had been a rewarding project and she was looking forward to the event. 'I've lived in a lot of different countries, so I grew up very multiculturally. This opportunity to engage in another culture and build community has been beautiful,' Desouza said. Student Advisor Pacific (Fautua ma So'oupu) Rev. Fitifiti Luatua visited the Woolston campus to share insights and first-hand experience of the game with the class. Fergus Gaughan said he'd enjoyed learning about the history of kilkiti and the stories behind the bat design. 'This project has also brought me back to why I started getting interested in woodworking. I enjoy working with raw timbers and shaping them. Being able to take something unrecognisable and turning it into art resonates with me,' he said. Joinery tutor Tim Melker said incorporating the project into coursework had been straightforward as the skills involved in making the three-sided bat were similar to aspects of furniture making. 'Our learners started with a square block. We used a jig and other machinery to cut off the bulk and then hand tools to fine tune it,' he said. 'But the standout aspect has been the cultural awareness we've gained through learning about the sport, having Rev share insights into the design of the bats and his experiences of playing in Samoa.' Tutor Jody Pehrson added the class had created a legacy item through the project and the energy in the workshop told its own story. 'The proof is in the engagement. Everyone has been focused on creating a bat worthy of the sport and now they want to go and play the game. We've all learned a lot,' he said. Once the bats left the hands of the trades learners, they were decorated and embellished by a team led by third-year Bachelor of Design (Applied Visual Art) student Lydia Iosefo. 'I do a lot of stencil work in my study, so this drew on that with some traditional patterning,' Iosefo said. 'As a bonus, this will count towards my professional practice hours which tests our ability to work with clients and deliver projects on deadline.' Golavale said he was pleased the project had resonated with all those involved and he was looking forward to the inaugural kilikiti tournament – rain or shine. 'If the weather doesn't play ball we'll head to the Whareora. We'll be ready for some fun and expect plenty of banter,' he said.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into the world of global news and events? Download our app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store