This story may not be your typical funny incident or normal "hanabuddah" type story you may have read. I felt that the treasure of my life experiences might give you a different perspective on what it was like being Hawaiian in a changing time. The only aina that I knew was of a culture that was rich with Aloha in the true sense of the word.
Let me take you back to a time in Hawaii before we became a state of the union, we talking early 1950's. I was born and raised on the island of Maui at a place that people never heard of called Kaupo. Although it still exists, it is only a memory to many who knew and called this place home. Many have passed on since its heyday as a productive little fishing village where living off the land and sea was the normal way of life.
We gathered our food from the ocean, planted our gardens and toiled the aina very hard everyday except when we went to church at Mokulau. That was when we got to meet other kids from the many families that once lived there and participated in "paina" after the services. We had a grand old time running through the pastures and swimming in the clear waters of the ocean. We would take our catch of fish and things we grew to Kipahulu and Hana to barter with other Hawaiian families. This was not an easy task. We had to load all of the goods on a mule or horse drawn wagon and then proceed to our destination on the worse roads that you can imagine. If the rivers were overflowing from the rains from the mountains, it was next to impossible to cross. When that happened, we would unload the wagon and carry goods over piece-by-piece. Sometimes it took all day. There were times we could not make the crossing. That meant turning back towards home. It also meant that we would have to wait till the following month to sell and trade our goods.
I am one of the few Hawaiians left that was actually born in a pili grass hut and speaking only the Hawaiian language. As progress would have it, soon travelers passing through our village shared wonders of a world we never knew that influenced the people of the village. For many of the villagers it would became their demise. I saw a way of life disappear, never to be seen again.
The following year we moved to a place called Ulupalakua and it was a new experience for me. We stayed with an uncle who in turned taught me how to be a paniolo. It was wonderful living that kind of life up in the Maui highlands and learning the lay of the land on a back of a horse. I felt free all the time with the cold wind pressing against my face as I rode swiftly through the eucalyptus trees.
Attending school for the first time I remember running through the grasslands to Keokea School in Kula about five miles from Ulupalakua and being chased sometimes by stray bulls. Finding guinea hen eggs was my favorite chore second to being with the paniolos on the range herding cattle. I hated school because I didn't speak English. I didn't know what the other kids were talking about. I sat outside the classroom and had no friends. It was a sad time for my siblings and me.
After a year we moved to the big city of Wailuku (Waihee) this is where I saw my first airplane. I learned what city life was about. This was very shocking to me. We didn't know what the word "poor" meant because we never went with out until we moved to the city. As I gradually learned English, I was told not to speak Hawaiian anymore. I thought that was normal. Lo and Behold was I ever wrong!
My first cultural shock was when we moved to Oahu and I had to get on an airplane. I can remember all of us crying to my mom that we didn't want to go on that thing. It wasn't natural. But we did get on and ended up in Honolulu. We were sent to live in a place called "Mayor Wrights" housing. Let me tell you, I learned the way of the streets quickly.
However, I longed to be back home diving for fish and limu. I wanted to grow taro and venture to the mountains for guava and mountain apples. I longed to catch opae along with hihiwai and all that good stuffs we grew up with.
Instead I learned how to steal and get in fights with the neighborhood kids. If wasn't for one man who intervened in my life I would have probably ended up dead or in prison. I credit the Manapua Man who with the ringing of his bell, we knew was selling his "goodies". The kids would all rush him at once and take the manapua from his two tin cans. Not me, because I felt sorrow for doing something like that to an old man. He befriended me and told me stories of his old days. He explained how he came to be doing what he was doing. His stories put the seed inside me that if you want something you have to work hard for it. It broke my heart when I heard he died. In my latter years I would write a song to keep the memory of the Manapua Man alive.
As a musician I have written many songs of my life. My grandfather Scott Hai wrote the famous song "Ahulili" for the mountain that showed us the way home.
My child hood friend when I was living in the housing project went on to become one of the NFL's greatest players. I was proud of him for reaching that goal especially coming from the projects. He has retired from football now and remains a friend. Mosi Tatupou, I wish you well, my brother!
All of my young life I longed for my home on Maui and I wanted to go back there so badly.
When we finally did go home I was disappointed. Maui wasn't the same. It seems that progress had also changed the way of life of there. Yet, I still enjoyed gathering of what God gave us on this wondrous world...our "aina".
When I was accepted into St. Anthony high School to play football, life's understanding came to me. You see, being Hawaiian at that time in my life wasn't cool and I didn't understand why. All I wanted was too be popular with the girls and my friends. I guess you might say that I wanted to be like a big shot I guess. I found that the Hawaiian way of life that I grew up with was being lost in a world of gadgets and technology. The awesomeness of being a apart of this great county called America was lost on me. I didn't even know how I, as a Hawaiian, became an American without even knowing it. I didn't even know what or how to be an American. I was just told to be one. I have always been taught to share and give to those who are less fortunate. Helping when there is a need and to be a friend to someone you didn't even know THAT was the Hawaiian way. But as I began to experience life, it was not always like that with people. I felt the discrimination when I went to college on the mainland. There was no sharing only TAKE! I was treated really badly, but persevered and overcame the negative.
I had to ask myself was this Americanism? Just when I was about to renounce my being American, America came to the aid of many people. America aided other countries, helping people in time of world disasters. It was always America who was there to lend a helping hand. For the first time I felt the Aloha as an American.
I am an advocate for Native Hawaiians and one who has seen my people close to genocide. I have learned there is a process to follow if you want things to change. It doesn't matter what race you are, we are all one people in the eyes of the All Mighty. God has given this world for us to live with one another. He left it up to us to make good or bad choices in life. Only we can make them. I hope and pray that one day all Hawaiians will be able to let go of the past atrocities that was done and work together with all peoples in enjoying that fruits of God's labor.
Moe e kealoha! (go to sleep with aloha) E ala e kealoha (wake with aloha)
About Author
I was born on the island of Maui, at an old forgotten fishing village called Kaupo. I come from the Kukahiko and Kana'e clans of Lahaina, Makena, and Kaupo. I am an entertainer and a Chef just to name a few of the hats that I wear." Kawika graduated from St. Anthony High ('72) and now lives in Honolulu.
