A Kalapana Reminiscence - http://hawaiianlanguage.com

Click on the underlined words to get to the translations.

Are the holidays as crazy making for you, as it is for me this time of year? Last night, I was preoccupied with ALL the things to be done. I was, quite frankly, driving myself pupule with overwhelm. Auê!

On the way to bed, I absentmindedly snatched a book off the coffee table, a gift from `ohana still unread. When I had received it, I had fanned through the pages then, but the pain of loss was still too piercing then. The reality was too harsh. The healing process takes time, and I wondered, "Am I ready to stir up these memories from the past?" I cracked it open, uncertain.

Graphic: Courtesy of Bishop Museum Press

The first page of ALOHA O KALAPANA drew me right in:

"There was a lot of people who enjoyed living in Kalapana, Kaimû, and Kapa`ahu in a peace--in a way of life that was a little different and a lot different from many of ours. They enjoyed their lifestyles. Their goals may have been different from what some in the western or highly industrialized worlds would aspire to, but Kalapana was one of the few, if not the last place, where a certain way of life of old was still being maintained. And they could do it because they had their land. Their land was abutted by the ocean, not by expensive resort developments. And this is what they lost."

Harry Kim, Civil Defense Administrator

For me, Kalapana's energy was soft, mellow, yielding. From the moment the right turn was made at the junction, she would be there waiting for me with a sweeping view of her famous Black Sand Beach...Kaimû. Nurturing, loving, and accepting, she wrapped me in a warm embrace. Her "welcoming song" was in the wind, the rustle of the hala leaves, the flower-scented air, the surf, always nahenahe...soft as a gentle breeze, melodious, harmonious.

Growing up, I spent many weekends in this remote corner of the island, "the rugged, hauntingly beautiful" home of kanaka maoli, who lived and thrived on these ancestral lands. This cluster of seaside villages in the Puna district of the Big Island had resisted westernization longer than any other district on the four major islands. There were no amenities, no electrical power and no resorts. The closest store was in Pâhoa, where I lived and went to school during the week, nine miles away, up old, twisting forest roads. Kalapana was truly an insulated pocket of maoli Hawai`i. It was the way "it was".

Her isolation allowed a flourishing, highly developed Hawaiian culture to exist in a modern world. Here, the continuation of indigenous ways, skills, and expertise was possible. Kalapana was a "living museum." The kanaka maoli were anachronisms, living in an out-of-synch time warp. Folks there made their living off the land or the sea; they fished and knew how to make the land productive. They lived a subsistence lifestyle. They knew how to live with the land without disrupting it, as they regarded it with as much reverence as they did their deities.

Every one knew each other. Every one shared. Every one helped one another. The people, nâ `ohana Ka`awaloa, Konanui, Roberts, Lee Hong, Kamelamela, Kama, Keli`iho`omalu, Choy, Hauanio, Pau, Enriquez, Lee, Ka`apana, Pavao, Kuamo`o, Elderts, Silveri, Peleiholani, Kipili`i, Naungayan, Kealoha, Hanohano, and others, made Kalapana special.

We shared common values, which were not American, Asian or an amalgam of American-Asian-Hawaiian values. These were deeply rooted, piha Hawaiian values, which were expressed in everyday living and actions. As a child, I simply had no awareness of these values' uniqueness and preciousness.

Only as an adult, can I now appreciate them as lasting values that have eased my life. I am worldlier now; I have experienced the treachery of the glib who give volumes of lip service to noble values, but who do not live them. Fooling themselves and others, in the end, they hurt themselves most. You see, they have not yet learned that most basic of Hawaiian values: be pono with yourself, others, and your god/s, and your life will be pono.

I flipped through the pages. Click here for a glimpse of the Kalapana that once was, one that remains not only in photographs, but also in the mind's eye and heart's memory of those who once was a part of Kalapana.

The book is laden with breath-taking panoramic views of my beloved Kalapana, some taken moments before being engulfed in flames, and entombed in lava. Flipping through the pages, I floated on a cloud of memories: the beautiful groves of coconut trees at water's edge ... the sweet and wonderful sea breeze ... ripening, juicy mangoes ... the rhythm of the sea ... watching the "half-monkey" boys shinnying up the trees to pick coconuts ... " niu moe o Kalapana", coconut trees growing in a reclining manner... the rustling hala trees with their sweet-smelling hînano blossoms... the jet-black sand beaches ... surfing at Kaimû ... fishermen "throwing net"... pole-fishing ... torch fishing ... squidding ... learning to swim in the brackish tidal pools behind the picturesque Star of the Sea Painted Church ... tent-tarpaulin camping ... arising to fiery sunrises ... exploring the sea caves and lava tubes along the coastline ... the hushed sacredness of the heiau ... the brackish, warm ponds ... the keiki pond ... the shave ice wagon ... playing among the sacred stones in the park ... looking for smooth, perfectly shaped `ili`ili for hula ... the mele wafting from front porches ... the overflowing hospitality, ""Mai, mai, e komo mai!"... the poi `awa`awa (no refrigeration!) ... the friendly, enthusiastic waves to one another... the smiles ... the `ohana: blood, hânai and extended ... the warm hugs, cuddles, and kisses ... the impromptu parties ... the songs ... the dancing ... the love of life ... raised by the entire village, we were the kids of Hillary Clinton's book ... the aloha pumehana ... the tropical languidness ... the stolen kisses at Queen's Bath, an inland pool for the ali`i ... a timelessness ... and most of all, the serenity and peace .... an idyllic calm ... mâlie.

In the early 1980s, while I was away at school, the federally built highway from the Volcanoes National Park began bringing hundreds, then thousands of visitors into these quiet rural villages. Before long, low-cost subdivisions with alluring English names like "Royal Gardens" were carved into the landscape. The visitors became settlers.

Slowly but surely, these outside influences and values began to erode the Kalapana lifestyle: television, cars, urban attractions, a drug culture, welfare, violent, robberies, vandalism, litter, graffiti, domestic violence, materialism, disregard for the land, and dysfunction. All of these were major interferences with the old-style lifestyle.

In 1983, just as I was finishing my studies and contemplating my return home, Pele let it be known that she was displeased with all the changes. She was huhû loa and literally blew her top, spewing fiery lava that flowed toward Kalapana. The land was hers to claim back, and she "wasn't going to put up with it anymore".

The kûpuna said that Pele (the volcano goddess) was cleaning house. Kalapana was being cleansed by fire.

Seven years later, by May 1990, Kalapana and all of her stately beauty was incinerated, then buried by lava, sparing but a few homes, some just inches from disaster. An entire community was scattered to the wind. Kalapana had been ripped from our hearts. Auê! What an overwhelming loss. There would be no more welcome embraces from her. She was gone, buried alive.

Kalapana was a part of me, a part of all of us who grew up there. The grief went deep, then compounded, when I lost a dear friend, Wayne, and my beloved " mom" who hânai `ed me ("adopted" me), Aunty Chick, after losing my own. I fell into varying states of shock, denial, anger, sadness, and pain.

This has been a time of profound healing. Keali`i's music closed the door on grief and opened a window to joy. Soft, nurturing, born of `eha, the music triggered memories of a special time and place, my wahi pana, Kalapana. I felt myself being healed. Such is the power of his music.

Unknown to me then, this opened window led me to further discovery. I was led to Moloka`i, where I experienced a spiritual homecoming. Of the major islands, Moloka`i is the most Hawaiian. Truly a "Friendly Isle," its lifestyle closely approximates that of my childhood Kalapana. Just as in Kalapana, people waved and greeted all passersby. Remnants of Hawai`i maoli still exist on this planet!

The people of Moloka`i are better prepared with na`auao, knowing what happened to Kalapana. Intent on keeping Moloka`i Hawaiian, they are vociferously resisting outside influences. I understand their efforts.

Although recalled with tears, these stirred memories of Kalapana will enhance the clarity of my vision of the future for Moloka`i. I've been awakened from a grief-stricken stupor, with a strong resolve to reciprocate the lokomaika`i generously bestowed me as a beloved child by the `âina. All has not been lost.

I've found my music- and fun-loving, creative keiki within, who once celebrated that `âina which bonded people. I am strengthening my values, Hawaiian values, for they are the legacy of our kupuna. Ka `ôlelo Hawai`i, too long suppressed, will serve to buttress them. The language is indeed that powerful. These are solid `ohana and Earth-sensitive values that make great sense in today's world. Our distressed world, at times hell-bent on committing family and environmental suicide, has much to learn from these wise, ancient Hawaiian values.

What are these values? They are, in no particular order: aloha, ha`aha`a, lokomaika`i, alaka`i, kûpono, kû i ka nu`u, kela, hanohano, ho`okipa, haipule/ho`omana, wiwo, laulima, kûha`o, koa, ma`ema`e, `olu`olu, pa`ahana, ho`omanawanui, le`ale`a, ho`okûkû, ho`ohiki, huikala, na`auao, lôkahi, and kôkua.

Did I just hear you say, "Hah?" Do check the Hawaiian Values webpage. "Learn `em. Live `em. It all begins with you."

I shall miss the Kalapana of my childhood. I will treasure the memories and keep them close to my heart. While I was a part of her past, I can also be a part of her present and future. I will join other former residents who have already made their pilgrimage back home to Kalapana. Together, we can ensure her future by helping her along with the recreative process. Her ashes that will yield new life. She needs our kôkua.

With full faith, our kûpuna traveled over thousands of miles of open ocean to prepare and settle new lands. In a few days, I too, with full faith, will cross thousands of miles of ocean in a jet plane to return home for the holidays.

My hands, as theirs did once upon a distant time, will help prepare the new land. I too will plant my hala tree and my niu alongside the virgin sands of a new Kalapana, confident in the knowledge that the hands of ka po`e `Aumâkua will be lovingly wrapped around mine.

Ua mau i ka mâlie o Kalapana.
The idyllic calm of Kalapana lives on.

Kalapana will never be PAU.

Click here for wahi pana (celebrated places, often with great personal significance) mentioned here.

Glossary
Pukui, Mary Kawena & Elbert, Samuel H., Hawaiian Dictionary, Revised and Enlarged Edition, University Of Hawai`i Press, Honolulu, 1986.
`âina [AI' nah]	Land, earth. Back
ali`i [ah lee' ee]	The royalty, the chief. Back
Aloha kâkou [ah loh' hah KAH' kou]	*Aloha to us. Lit.,* aloha to all of you (3 or more of you) and me. Back**
Aloha O Kalapana [al oh' hah oh kah' lah pah' nah]	Love of Kalapana. Back
aloha pumehana [ah loh' hah poo' meh hah' nah]	Warm aloha. Back
Auê! [au (W)EH' !]	Oh dear! Que lastima! (In Spanish) Back
`eha [eh' hah]	Pain, suffering, aching. Back
hala [hah' lah]	Pandanus tree, leaves (lauhala) are used to plait mats, hats, bags, etc. Back
hânai [HAH' nai]	*Adopted, legally or informally as honorary extended family. Lit.,* to feed, raise, nurture, care, sustain. Back**
heiau [hei' (y)au']	Place of worship, shrine. For more on heiau, click here. Back
hînano [HEE' nah noh]	Male pandanus blooms. Bracts were made into fine mats, moena hînano. Back
huhû loa [hoo HOO' loh' (w)ah]	Extremely angered. Back
`ili`ili [ee' lee ee' lee]	Pebble, stones used in hula. Back
kanaka maoli [kah nah' kah mao' lee]	*Native Hawaiian; the indigenous people. Lit.,* a true human, a mortal. Back**
Ka `Ôlelo Hawai`i [kah oh leh' loh hah wai' ee]	The Hawaiian Language. Back
ka po`e aumâkua [kah poh' eh (y)au MAH' koo (w)ah]	The assemblage of ancestral spirit guides. Back
keiki [kei' kee]	Child (keiki), children (nâ keiki). Back
kôkua [KOH koo (w)ah]	Help, assistance, aid. Back
kûpuna [KOO' poo' nah]	Ancestors, elders, grandparent, relative or close friend of the grandparent's generation, sages. Back
lokomaika`i [loh' koh mai' kah ee]	Good will, good disposition, generosity, grace, kindness, benevolence. Back
Mai, mai, e komo mai! [mai' mai' eh koh' moh mai'!]	Come, come, come hither. For more on heahea. Back
mâlie [MAH' lee (y)eh]	Calm, quiet, serene, pacific, still, silent, tranquil, peaceful. Back
maoli [mao' lee]	Native, indigenous, genuine, true, real, actual, very, really, truly. Back
mele [meh' leh]	Song, poetry. Back
Moloka`i [moh' loh kah' ee]	Island, with a population of 6000; known as Moloka`i, island of powerful prayer (pule o`o) In legends, Hina was the mother of Moloka`i. The island was known for its sorcery and sports. Back
na`auao [nah au (w)ao']	Wisdom. Back
nahenahe [nah' heh nah' heh]	Soft, sweet, melodious, as music or a gentle voice; softly blowing, as a gentle breeze; gently mannered, soft-spoken. Back
niu moe o Kalapana [niu' moe' o kah' lah pah' nah]	The sleeping coconut trees of Kalapana. Back
`ohana [oh hah' nah]	Family, nâ `ohana (families). Back
pau [pau]	Finished, ended. Back
Pele [peh' leh]	Fire/volcano goddess. Back
piha [pee' hah]	Full, complete, filled, loaded. Back
poi `awa`awa [poi' ah' wah ah' wah]	Sour (`awa`awa) poi, the staple and Hawaiian staff of life. Back
pono [poh' noh]	Right, just, virtuous, moral, fitting, proper, correct. Back
pupule [poo poo' leh]	Crazy, going nuts, bonkers. Back
Ua mau i ka mâlie o Kalapana! [oo (w)ah mau' (w)ee kah MAH' lee (y)eh oh kah' lah pah' nah]	The idyllic calmness of Kalapana lives on. Back
wahi pana [vah' hee pah' nah]	Legendary place; place of significance. Back

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