Keali`i Reichel: Voice of an Angel: Chapter 5: Meeting the Man with the Voice of the Angel

Meeting the Man with the Voice of an Angel

"That pure breath of life,
the spirit of man which God inspired."
~ Milton

A week earlier, I received an e-mail, informing me that we, and Craig and Annie, will also be meeting Keali`i, Puna, and Link ahead of time, right before the concert.

(Background: Fred "Puna" Krauss is the co-executive producer of Keali'i's music with Jim "Link" Linkner, the multi-Nâ Hôkû Hanohano (the Hawaiian equivalent of the Grammies) awards winning recording engineer; together with Keali'i, they comprise the triumvirate of Punahele Productions.)

The next few days, I am preoccupied with what makana aloha (gift of friendship / affection) to give Keali'i, Puna, and Link in return for their generosity and kindness. The symbology of LEI HALI'A deeply impresses me. "That's it! " I exclaimed to myself in the middle of my workday. "Lei. And they must be maile!"

Maile, a fragrant vine with glossy, deep green leaves, has always held personal significance for me. Growing up next to a rainforest, I grew up with it. Maile was part of the natural foliage, growing wild. Even so, we reserved "picking" it for only the most auspicious of occasions.

Although we would say, "We going pick maile," doing so entailed: traipsing into the dense forest growth, being careful not to fall into the puka (volcanic crevices), "picking" it off the trees, untwining the vines off the tree branches, being careful to not bruise the leaves, finding our way back out of the forest, pounding and stripping the stems to remove them from the vines, and entwining several vines to create a lush, open-ended lei.

Favoring the flower lei, the showier the better, malihini (newcomers/visitors) often misperceive a maile lei as just a "bunch of leaves". For us, a maile lei has no equal. To be bestowed one is a true honor. It was the lei worn by ke ali'i, the royalty, and ka maka`âinana, the commoner, alike.

For those of us who danced the hula, we knew the maile vine as sacred to Laka, the goddess of hula.

As a six-year-old keiki (child) for a hula performance, my Daddy presented me with my first maile lei. I was the "runt", the little one placed front and center, and the lei was much too long. I kept tripping over it during my performance, which made for unexpected comic hula. Unfazed, I danced on, proudly wearing my maile lei.

As young as I was, I knew maile was extra special. What made it most special was that Daddy had gone into the forest, harvested the maile, and made it especially for me. I kept Dad's maile lei in my ipu (gourd instrument) and to this day, I can recall its fragrance, as if it were yesterday.

Makana aloha decided upon, but where and how to get? Auê!

Ah, call Lynn! Lynn is a "HIKI NÔ" ("CAN DO") person. Link will attest to this. As soon as I spotted the concert listing in Susan J's Music Pages, we called Lynn.

Lynn immediately drove down to the Shell. No one had yet heard of this event. She then drove over to the Neil Blaisdell Arena ticket office. No luck. Lynn managed to get Link's name and number. How, I do not know.

"It hasn't even been announced in Honolulu, " he told her, surprised.

Lynn was absolutely intent on "beating us to the punch"; i.e., she and Wayne wanted to make sure it was THEIR treat. She was going to procure those tickets, come hell or high water!

Lynn's single-minded quest to pay for the tickets, and Keali'i's and Puna's simultaneous gifting must have left poor Link totally befuddled. E kala mai, e Link.

Back to the maile. Aren't I good at stretching out this story?

We call Lynn back to let her know about Keali`i 's and Puna's generosity, and put her on another trail, the maile trail. "No problem," she says, "but only if you let us go halves on the lei.

Now, back to the concert:

Wayne walks into the Shell with a box, heaped with maile. Pila has arranged his own surprise. From the bottom of the box, Pila pulls out a beautiful, multi-stranded lei of loke lani (pink rosebuds), the flower of Maui, and the lei adorning the Lei Hali`a CD. Loke lani was our wedding flower. Instead of traditional white blossoms, I chose loke lani for my bridal bouquet.

He `ohu i ka lei hali`a,
`ala mâpu i ke anuhea.
Adorned with a lei of fond recollection,
a permeating fragrance that comes.

With his smiling kind eyes looking into mine, Pila drapes his makana over my shoulders. `A`ala! (Sweet fragrance!) Mahalo for this dear, sentimental man in life, my best friend, my best bud, Pila!

Moments later, Judy introduces us to Puakea Nogelmeier, haku mele (composer), pû`ukani (singer), University of Hawai`i's and the world's foremost Hawaiian language authority, first recipient of the Mary Kawena Pukui Hawaiian Language Award, and radio host of Ka Leo o Hawai`i (The Voice of Hawai`i), a Hawaiian-only-spoken program.

I expected a scholarly, older gentleman. I am delightfully surprised: Puakea is this cool, good-looking dude with intensely turquoise eyes. He warmly greets us in Hawaiian. Other than aloha, I don't know what he is saying, but I feel his words. I am completely taken by this man, who has dedicated his life to ka `ôlelo, the language. He has forever perpetuated the language in song, as Puakea is the composer of one of most beautiful songs ever written in any language, Lei Hali`a.

"He `ohu i ka lei hali`a,
`ala mâpu i ke anuhea"...

It's time. The butterflies return. We head toward the back of the Shell with our backstage passes plastered over our hearts. I hold on tightly to Pila's hand. This is exciting. This is scary!

There, we meet Link and Puna, who immediately make us feel welcome and at ease with their warmth and friendliness.

Link is adorable, with a distinctive sparkle in his eyes. We are both surprised; I think we both had very different preconceptions of one another. He is clearly one of the most accomplished, respected and honored members of the Hawaiian music community. Down-to-earth, his humility is refreshing. Not at all a Hollywood type, he is a completely adapted "local" now, a kama`âina (a child of the land, or one who has been completely acculturated to Hawaiian ways, and thus, honored with this status). As we present our maile lei to Link, celebrities, many his clients no doubt, wave to him, and he smiles and waves back.

Puna has an easy smile and a gentle ebullience. I am instantly charmed, as he reminds me a lot of my Pila. Both are sweet and easygoing, with extraordinarily kind eyes.

"Old friend here we are..."

I'd already felt a kinship with him. He is Puna (spring, source of mana). I grew up in Puna, a district on the Big Island; it is a fertile land of underground springs that yield the sweetest of waters. Puna was the name incorporated in my Dad's farming enterprises. As my grandmother's punahele (favorite), I knew he is dearly loved, to be honored with the name, Punahele.

He lives up to his esteemed names.

Introducing myself, I present Puna with his maile lei; he is incredulous. Grinning and looking askance, he says, "Aunty? No, you're not one Aunty..." He hugs me warmly, as one might a long-lost Aunty, which pleases me.

"Every road leads back to you..."

The butterflies flutter away in the presence of ke aloha pau `ole (never-ending love). Puna is, after all, no stranger to me.

He takes us to a red-clothed table with chairs, set under the shade of palm trees. " The concert will be starting in 15 minutes, " says the announcer. I drape Keali'i's maile over my lap. I lift it, inhaling that wonderful, inimitable fragrance of maile, intertwined with a garland of red he`e (octopus tree) berries.

I can count on my olfactories to transport me back in time and evoke hâ`upu nui (cherished memories). I see the rainforest. I see my Daddy. I remember how proudly I wore my Daddy's makana, my first maile lei.

Silently, I invoke the blessings of those who inspire, on this 'aha mele (concert), on every being here, whether in the physical or in spirit, and on Keali'i, Puna, Link, his hâlau (hula school / troupe), singers, and musicians. I thank them for their incredibly wonderful "arrangements." I look at the beauty about me. The blue skies. The fluffy white clouds. The brightness. Diamond Head. The canopied trees. The flowers. My loved ones with me. This is Ka Lani (Heaven) on Earth.

I break out of reverie when I see Keali'i at the backstage door, directly in front of us.

Dressed in pre-show casuals, baggy khaki shorts, green tank top, an earring, and rubbah slippahs, he says, "Hello!" His signature flowing hair is tied back. I sense that he is as nervous as I am. He's dealing with his butterflies, too! Keeping his left hand in his pocket, he peers over his sun specs.

I can appreciate his nervousness. THE concert of his career is about to start! May the time never come when he is no longer nervous, no longer challenged, no longer wishing to please his audience, no longer willing to exert his best effort. Today, he cares deeply, and his honest nervousness is becoming and touches me.

A "Who's Who" guessing game ensues. He identifies Craig immediately; Craig's red `umi`umi (whiskers) give him away. I am riveted to my chair. Lynn whispers, "You gotta get up, he doesn't know what you look like."

With his hand to his cheek and a quizzical look, Keali'i is looking for Aunty. He says, "Let's see..." Lynn's right, and I step forward. He is surprised, and responds with, "Wooooooooo."

Suddenly, time and space are suspended. Just like in the movies, everything starts moving in slo-o-o-w motion. There's a smile in his eyes; warmth, in his voice.

I move forward, draping Keali'i's maile lei around his neck. He draws me to him, gently wraps his arms around my waist, wishing me, "Aloha."

We kiss each other's right cheek. "So glad to meet you," he murmurs.

Aloha ... we acknowledge the presence of Divine Inspiration in one another.

I whisper, "Mahalo, Keali'i. Eyes closed, I savor the moment. He whispers back, "Mahalo."

Mahalo...we have placed each other in the presence of Divine Inspiration.

He has put a face to Aunty, and I have met the man behind the voice of an angel. Two souls meeting, in the presence of the Divine Inspiration. We have connected.

"A wide-eyed wanderer...a star-crossed voyager..."

I step back. Pila steps forward, introduces himself, "You all right, brah. Congratulations," he says to Keali'i.

"Mahalo," says Keali'i. Two men, whose voices are the sweetest music to my ears, are connecting.

I am beaming, as ka manawa pono kêia. (this is the right time.)

"Ancestor rhythms,
the sound of many hearts dancing together...."

Pau.
(The End)

But not really. It's only just begun for you and for me:

>> Keali`i's Greetings and Invitation to Learn the Language.

>> Kûkahi (Standing Alone) `96 with Keali`i Reichel

>> the hawaiian home page

Fly.