Culture & Art

A Contest of Watermen

Monday, May 4th, 2009

Paka`a Part IX of a continuing series
By Catherine Aki

In our last episode, Paka`a’s enemies die, killed at sea. But a more detailed account indicates that they suffer from neglect, cold and exposure when Kuapaka, Paka`s son, refuses them food and protection from the storm. As a result they roll themselves into the ocean one after the other.

When they are dead, the boy guides the canoe and while everyone sleeps, heads back to the Big Island. Although the ali`i’s entourage is glad to be home, the ali`i himself, Keawenuiaumi, is disappointed because he has failed to find his good friend Paka`a.

Kuapaka`a predicts that the ali`i and his men will forget about him in all the excitement of their return home. Sure enough, when they reach Hawaii, the ali`i assumes that the keiki is in the care of his entourage, while the ali`i’s men assume that the chief himself should be responsible for the boy. Instead, the boy is left to fend for himself spending day after day on the beach, next the chief’s canoe eating the trip’s leftover food.

When a group men are about to embark on a fishing trip, Kuapaka`a asks to accompany them to serve as a bailer in their canoe. When they return from fishing, the boy sees another canoe nearby and challenges the fishermen to a race for their catch. He is so bold that he tells the owners of the borrowed canoe to jump into his opponents’ boat if they are scared of loosing. Like his father had years earlier, he convinces the fishermen to put all their catch into his canoe. The race begins and Kuapaka`a is losing. But after opening his wind gourd and chanting, a large wave rises from the sea. With great effort and fierce paddling, Kuapaka`a catches the wave which pushes him to shore for the win.

At the sight of the wave, Kuapaka`a’s opponents back-paddle for fear of crashing or flipping their canoe. They are angered both by the boy’s recklessness and for being beaten. So they demand a rematch.

This time, the only thing the boy has to wager is the ali`i’s canoe. But, the fishermen don’t believe the boy is entitled to offer it. The boy explains that no one else takes care of the canoe and offers it again. But now the men insist that the wager be their bones. The boy reminds them of their families, wives, children and friends who would miss them dearly if they were gone. Clearly the wager is lopsided he explains. However, the men insist and set a date for the contest on the first month of summer.

The event quickly spreads via word-of-mouth creating an amazing amount of hype. Soon everyone including Keawenuiaumi knows about the upcoming race. They make bets and wager a variety of goods and valuables like pigs, dogs, mamaki cloth, layered kapa, feathers and whatever else was treasured in those days. Most expected the boy would loose because he had to paddle a heavy canoe measuring 6 fathoms long by himself.

The imu is dug. The wood put inside. The fires are lit. Whoever lost the race would be thrown into the imu and baked. But the boy is clever. Because the fishermen are anxious for their revenge and eager to start, they agree to his terms on how the race will end. Once the canoe is beached, they must surf four waves before their opponent lands. But in their hurry, the fishermen neglect to define what kind of waves.

The fishmen, determining the starting point, keep going further and further out to sea until the houses on the beach are hidden by the ocean. The fishemen were poor paddlers churning the sea into a froth with each stroke. They also leave a wake behind them which Kuapaka’a catches and rides. So as they tire themselves out paddling, the boy keeps up right behind them. As they head to shore, the crowd cannot see the boy’s canoe as he is so close behind the fishermen, they block him from view. Those who had wagered on the men begin to cheer.

Because the boy had taunted the men along the way, telling them to paddle harder, they are now exhausted and ready to give up. With the shoreline in sight, Kuapaka`a finally begins to paddle, moving his canoe ahead. The crowd roars in dismay, realization they are going to loose all their prize possessions and riches.

After reaching the beach first, Kuapaka`a grabs a surfboard and catches four shore-breakers riding the white water instead of the regular waves further out at sea. The fisherman quickly realize their mistake in not making the rules more clear, but it is too late.

The fishermen are filled with fear of dying; their families lament and sorrow fills the air. A messenger is sent to Keawenuiaumi who amazingly still does not realize that Kuapaka`a is the racer. When Keawenuiumi finally gets the details, he sends for the boy. He is distressed about how much he has forgotten about the boy.

The ali`i asks the boy to spare the fishermen’s lives. First the boy refuses, but as the chief begs the keiki puts the decision back on the chief. The fishermen whose lives are now at stake, had been friends of the two enemies who had replaced all of Paka`a’s fishermen years earlier.

Keawenuiumi was afraid to be without any fishermen but the decision was now his -would the chief rather have his fishermen, or the return of his good friend Paka`a. The boy explains that in order for Paka`a to return, his fishermen must die. Who will Keawenuiaumi choose.

Next issue concludes the story of Paka`a.

Footprint on the Heart

Thursday, April 23rd, 2009

By Valerie Monson

Henry Nalaielua, who wrote about his accomplished life in the memoir “No Footprints in the Sand,” died early April 17, 2009, leaving the people of Kalaupapa to bid aloha to yet another great kupuna who left behind permanent footprints on the hearts of all who knew him.

“After hearing that Henry had died that morning, I noticed at sunset that there was no rain, just heavy clouds and deep crimson skies,” said Dr. Emmett Aluli, a longtime friend and colleague of Nalaielua. “There was just all this crimson. It was like Henry was passing without commotion, without fanfare. He was being welcomed home by the ancestors.”

Nalaielua was 84 years old. He was born Nov. 3, 1925, in the plantation village of Ninole on the Big Island. When he was just 10 years old, his mother was forced to take him to Honolulu on a ship and leave him at Kalihi Hospital because he had been diagnosed with leprosy. Henry was the third child the Nalaielua ‘ohana had to give up because of the disease.

Many years later, Nalaielua would still remember every detail of that childhood moment when the ship slipped away from the dock in the middle of the night.

“My father was standing at the pier, crying,” he recalled in an interview with this reporter in the early 1990s. “I’d never seen my father cry before. As the boat went away, as I could see him getting farther away, he was crying, crying, crying, crying. He knew he had lost one more child.”

In 1941, when Nalaielua was 15, he was told he was being sent to Kalaupapa. It was a move he welcomed, so could be free of the barbed wire that ran along the top of the fence that surrounded Kalihi. He immediately relished the wide-open spaces of Kalaupapa that reminded him of home.

“There were all these things I was used to –  ‘opae, ‘o‘opu, ginger, watercress, mountain apple,” he said. “All the things I grew up with.”

There was no cure for leprosy at that time so Henry was told he had only a few years to live. Because of that, he saw no good reason for educating himself. Books were not a part of his life until a friend who was a strong Catholic gave him a book about Father Damien de Veuster. Henry was surprised to learn that he had the same disease that Damien had contracted generations earlier.

But that book taught him something even more important: that he had a love of reading. From then on, seldom was Nalaielua’s bedside table without a book, even when he wasn’t able to read them. As he was preparing for cataract surgery about 16 years ago, there were three books waiting for him at home for when his eyes had healed: “The Autobiography of Frederick Douglass,” “Soldat: Reflections of a German Soldier” and a collection of South Pacific stories by James Michener. Another time, his table held a book on Hawaiian medicine that had been issued in both English and Hawaiian. He read each version.

There was also sadness for him at Kalaupapa. Soon after he arrived, Nalaielua was told that his two sisters, who he knew had left home before him, had also been shipped to Kalaupapa. Both had died before he arrived. He spent years searching for their graves, a search that proved to be fruitless. It was one of the reasons he became a strong supporter of a Monument at Kalaupapa that would list the names of those who had been sent there because of leprosy. He not only wanted his name permanently engraved on the Monument, but also the names of his sisters.

Wayne Levin, the well-known photographer, began documenting Kalaupapa and her people in pictures in 1984. Nalaielua, then the president of the Kalaupapa Historical Society, was one of his first friends there.

“Henry just understood the importance of the history of Kalaupapa,” said Levin. “He would drive me around, show me places and he was always so patient while I took all these pictures. He was very supportive of my work.”

Their friendship grew to the point that Levin would stay in Nalaielua’s spare bedroom during his trips to Kalaupapa. When Levin married, Nalaielua sang at his wedding.

“I just feel really fortunate to have had him for a friend,” said Levin. Less than two weeks ago, the two had lunch and went shopping for books at Barnes and Noble.

During his lifetime, Nalaielua had many jobs. At Kalaupapa, he was a police officer, carpenter and tour driver for Damien Tours. When he was able to leave Kalaupapa after testing negative for the disease in 1949 (drugs to cure leprosy were introduced to Kalaupapa in 1946), he worked for Hawaiian Electric and played music after hours.  He later moved home to Kalaupapa, missing everything he held dear.

Although he eventually became an author when his autobiography was published in the fall of 2006, Nalaielua might best be remembered as a musician and artist. He produced so many paintings during his lifetime that he had a one-man show in Honolulu in 2003.

“He was a poet, a composer, a genealogist, a storyteller, an artist,” said Aluli, “but what stands out for me about Henry is the scholarly and philosophical person that he was.”

For years, Nalaielua served on the Board of Directors of Na Pu‘uwai Native Hawaiian Health Systems where he was the guiding force for Aluli and Billy Akutagawa, another good friend, and others. He also served on the Board of Health for the State of Hawaii.

Burial was at Kalaupapa where his family and friends gathered together to celebrate a man whose life was a great work of art.

Honoring the Past

Friday, April 3rd, 2009

By Melissa Kelsey

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At the annual festival to honor the beloved Prince Jonah Kuhio Kalanianaole, Aunty Ku`ulei, Aunty Dora, and DJ Pelekai of the music group Ohana Hoaloha performed in front of his portrait at Kiowea Park last Saturday. The event, sponsored by Ahupua`a O Molokai, was a rich celebration of Hawaiian cultural traditions. Attendees feasted on ono grinds, including lau lau plates and fresh lemonade.

Prince Kuhio is important to the people of Molokai because of his sacrificial act of giving up his Hawaiian citizenship so that he could legally become a delegate to Congress, according to Louise Bush, President of Ahupua`a O Molokai. In this government role, Prince Kuhio advocated for the Hawaiian Homes Commission Act. As a result of his influence, Congress passed the act in 1920, providing homesteads for native Hawaiians.

“It is important for us to gather to honor this great man who did so much for Molokai,” said event attendee and Hawaiian homesteader Opu`ulani Albino. “We take care of our traditions and history, our kupuna.”

Officially, Prince Kuhio Day was last Thursday, March 26, two days before the festival. Many businesses throughout Molokai were closed in observation of the holiday.

Perfect Timing

Monday, March 23rd, 2009

Front and Center

Monday, March 23rd, 2009

Surviving the Rains

Monday, March 23rd, 2009

The wind gourd of La`amaomao

Monday, March 2nd, 2009

Paka`a - Part VI of a continuing series.

Keawenuiaumi comes to Molokai

Sunday, March 1st, 2009

Paka’a, part V of a continuing series

This rock out-cropping at the old Kolo wharf is a likely vantage point that Paka`a, and son Kuapaka’a, would have used to view Keawenuiaumi’s fleet as it approached Molokai.

In our last episode, Paka`a takes his son, Kuapaka`a, to the uplands located along the backbone of the mountain of Maunaloa. It is there that they begin to plant sweet potato in preparation for Keawenuiaumi’s arrival. Their field is a mile long and half a mile wide. The field is divided so that each of the district chiefs has a portion allotted to him. The shape of the fields is said to have been representative of those districts with markers sectioning them off.

In the meantime, Keawenuiaumi’s canoes and entourage are finally ready to set sail - so begins the search for Paka’a. He travels to Maui, lingering for a while before moving onto Molokai.

From his house, Paka`a can see the flotilla in the distant channel between Lanai and Maui. He devises a plan between himself and his son. They will pretend that Paka`a is an old deaf man fishing for uhu. In those days, the fisherman would always be bending over the water looking down with a line and hook to catch that kind of fish. With some salt encrusted in his hair, Paka`a looked the part when the two paddled their canoe out to intersect the ali`i’s fleet.

Kuapaka`a gets excited as the canoes approach. He keeps looking for Keawenuiaumi, but his father Paka`a informs him that the ali`i will be at the rear of the flotilla. However, as each district chief passes by, Paka`a whispers to his son to chant an insult directed at each leader. It is interesting that in the Moses Manu version of this account, the insults are part of a narrative and the responses are chanted. But in the Fornander account, the insults are chanted and the responses are narrated.

The scorn that Kuapaka`a heaps on each of the six district chiefs is basically that they are frauds. In other words they hold their high status based upon their appointment by Keawenuiaumi after he has conquered the Big Island, uniting it under one rule. They do not hold their position based their bloodlines and connection to the land but instead their ranks are rewards for their support. So to each he shouts, “you are not a real chief but instead an imposter”. And to make matters worse, he calls them eel catchers and shrimp scoopers belittling them all the more.

Finally, Keawenuiaumi arrives, and Paka`a’s half brother tells the ali`i to draw nearer to listen better to the keiki, Kuapaka`a. The keiki tries to entice the chief to land implying that perhaps he will find Paka`a. When that hint does not work, Kuapaka`a gives warning that there is a storm brewing the channel. He tells the ali’i to come ashore and avoid the storm. But Paka`a’s two enemies are also on board the chief’s canoe and they argue against landing. They taunt the boy back claiming there are no clouds in the sky.

Paka`a’s half-brother begins to recognize the boy’s chanting style as something familiar, realizing that only he and Paka`a know some of the chants. So he advises the chief that perhaps they should listen to the boy as someone from the island who might know more. However, the two enemies insist that the group continue on their journey.

Next time, Keawenuiaumi learns why he should have listened to the “keiki `o ka `aina”.