Sunday, February 22, 2009

A Bit of Faith

The whole family went out Saturday night to see some live Hawaiian music. We trekked for an hour in the rain to see Faith Ako in Santa Rosa, California. I must say, I haven't had so much fun since, well, since the last time I was back in Hawai'i. We heard about Faith through my daughters Hula teacher, and joined the rest of a packed theater for the debut concert for her latest CD.

Her opening act and her backup band was Tunana Da Band, a trio from Maui that was just delightful. They warmed up the house with a selection of english and Hawaiian language songs, but it was the interaction between the band members that was the most entertaining. They were obviously having a marvelous time, kidding the audience about how cold it was and ribbing each other between songs.

The theater must have been at least two-thirds full of Faith's friends and family, and when she came out the place went wild. She has a great voice and though the acoustics of the performance hall weren't top flight, the selection of traditional and contemporary songs and original compositions were stirring. Joining her on stage for three numbers or so were members of a hula troupe who provided some very beautiful dancing, including one drum-driven chant in the ancient style which sent shivers up my spine.

If you get the chance to find some Hawaiian music performed in your area, don't pass it up!

Friday, February 6, 2009

Ke Ea O Ka 'Āina

I am trying, in my spare time, to familiarize myself with the Hawaiian language. I won't say I'm trying to learn it (though I am) because without formal instruction or anyone to talk to, it really isn't possible. But the self teaching is paying off, every once in a while, I just get something. 

Recently I was listening again to the song Hawai'i '78 by Irael Kamakawiwo'ole. This is a great song with most of the lyrics in English, except for a haunting introduction which plays on the motto of Hawai'i. This single sentence is symbolic of the beautiful construction of the language and offers a great segue into how descriptive the language can be, especially in Hawaiian songs about the land itself, which is what I'll talk about in this post.

Ua mau ke ea o ka 'āina i ka pono.

Let us break this down. Ua is a tense marker, it says that the action that follows occurred in the past. Mau means (among other things) preserve. So ua mau means (in this case) preserved. Ke ea means life; ka 'āina is land; and pono means (among others) goodness or righteousness. Putting it all together, the motto of Hawai'i says, in english:

The life of the land is preserved in righteousness.

The Hawaiian language features many words that have different meanings, depending upon the context. It is what makes the language such a delightful puzzle. For example, if you find the lyrics for Iz' song on the web, you'll find that some well-meaning haole translated our example sentence into something involving a constant rain falling on the land. What were they thinking? It turns out we can forgive them in this case because ua can also mean rain, and mau can also mean endless or ceaseless. Hence ua mau can indeed mean an endless rain.

I love the way the Hawaiian language provides for so many ways to describe things in a positive way. Of course people, things and places can be described this way, but these terms are frequently used in song and chant, both traditional and contemporary, in describing the land, the sea, mountains, trees, flowers, shells and other artifacts of the Hawaiians deep love for their land. 
Hanohano - glorious, magnificent, honored, distinguished

Hemolele - perfect, faultless, pristine

Kaulana - famous, celebrated, renown

Kūkilakila - majestic

Lani - heavenly

Pono - goodness, righteousness
The terms are often combined. My personal favorite is hemolele i ka malie or pristine in calmness. Think about that for a moment, if you've ever cleared your mind and just experienced a sunset, sunrise, or the view of distant snow-capped mountains on a calm day, you have witnessed something hemolele i ka malie. I think the way the Hawaiians say these things is more poetic than mere english allows, reflecting an appreciation of the land that has evolved over thousands of years.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Ka 'Āina Ka'awale

The islands of Hawai'i have stood in the Pacific for hundreds of millions of years. In that time they've endured storm and tsunami and have thrived. In the time before human eyes beheld them, these lands developed a magic that, over the centuries, people of many races have found irresistible. The power of these lands to captivate is beyond some spell, beyond mere love or beauty, it is ume mau, a never-ending attraction.

I like to think of the human discovery of the islands as being akin to the storm waves that have washed upon these islands for millennia. The first great wave was the original polynesian settlers, who braved thousands miles of ocean in vessels that most modern people would fear to voyage in. They brought with them the animals and plants that they could accommodate on their voyaging canoes. The islands, empty of human inhabitants, welcomed them, and the transformation of the land began.

In the second wave, westerners arrived, starting with Cook, and later Hawaii became a stop for merchant mariners. New England missionaries arrived shortly after and received a welcome somewhat better than Cook's. These missionaries, merchant mariners, and other early arrivals were caught in the island's spell. They and their descendants were welcomed by the people and the land, they intermarried with the original inhabitants, advised the kings and queens and chiefs of the islands. Lead mostly by American's, western thoughts on government, religion, land-ownership, and business provided a new transformation. This wave was perhaps the most profound and the most controversial. These westerners were the founders of the huge commercial agricultural companies which exerted overwhelming force upon the development of the islands between the mid-19th and mid-20th centuries.

Then the Chinese came. Their immigration was initially arranged to provide much needed labor in the sugar (and later pineapple) fields of the islands. They brought with them their own culture, food, and language. Their work-ethic allowed many to transform agricultural toil that would be unheard of by today's standards into opportunity and wealth. They became part of business and government and instead of returning to their homelands, they became part of Hawai'i too.

The fourth wave came from another island nation, Japan. Once again the demand for labor in Hawai'i's immense agricultural system caused the large western business interests to reach across oceans. Work-life was incredibly hard for these early immigrants, but they also found a place which allowed them near complete cultural autonomy. Like the Chinese, and the westerners before them, the islands worked their peculiar magic upon these people and instead of returning to Japan with their earnings, many stayed.

As each wave crashed upon the shores of these islands, the force was absorbed. Of course it wasn't always an easy transition, racial and economic tensions were not at all rare. Still, the result is something totally unique, like the islands themselves. Through generations of living with one another, and of frequently marrying each other and raising the next generation together, the people of modern Hawai'i have become the most unique and well-integrated cultural and racial mix the world has ever seen. 

Maybe it is because I am a member of a multi-racial family that I feel so utterly at home when I am in the islands. The influence of the orient is everywhere, from the food you eat to many of the customs you encounter (such as removing your shoes before entering a hawaiian home). Of course western influences are unmistakeable, from commercial enterprise to government and law. All of these influences do not replace, but are layered upon, the culture of the original inhabitants. The Hawaiians of yesterday may have been awash in wave upon wave of foreign migration, but their unique presence is still felt everywhere, from the food and language to the beautiful music and dances of the islands.

In this way, Hawai'i is a place apart, it does not feel like anywhere else in the world.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Kona Coffee

Our next trip to Hawai'i island is still more than two months away, and as I sit in my living room over 2000 miles away, I am sipping a delicious cup of freshly-ground, freshly-brewed Kona coffee. Sadly, I know by looking at my dwindling supply, just a quarter pound of beans left, that I will run out before the next resupply can occur. Every four months or so, I carefully gauge how much coffee to bring home, looks like I underestimated last time. By now you might be thinking, "just go online and buy some," and herein lies the kernel of this post.

There are many small coffee farms in that beautiful rugged country above Kailua town. If you are a true coffee lover, you should budget at least a full day of exploration in this region. These small farms usually offer tours and tasting. Some are just a few acres in size. As with fine wines, the real gems lay, not in the mass market, but in the tiny, almost anonymous farms that you really must go looking for. 

Kona coffee has a mild, yet complex earthy flavor and aroma. I can taste a hint of the volcanic soil which the coffee trees seem to love so much, as well as the cool, slightly humid mountain air of the higher elevations in which they grow. A cup of Kona coffee immediately transports me back to a sunny morning on my lanai, where I can hear the coconut trees rustling in the trade winds and the songs of the early-rising birds as they begin the days hunt for food.

Coffee was first planted on Hawai'i island in the early 18oo's and quickly became a major crop in the region due to the unique soil and climactic conditions, along with a steady supply of chinese labor, required due to the immense amount of manual labor required in tending the plants and harvesting the fruit. As the days of the mega plantation waned after the coffee market crashed in 1899, the large plantations broke apart into individual smaller farms of just 3 to 5 acres, and so it remains today.

It is true, I could probably find plenty of excellent Kona coffee online and with a few clicks have it delivered to my door. It wouldn't be the same as buying it from the back of the pickup truck just outside the Costco parking lot in Kailua, the bags still warm from the just-roasted beans. For me, Kona coffee isn't just another way to feed my well-developed caffeine addiction, it is a connection to place for which I have aloha mau, an unceasing love.