Haʻalilio

Naue nā pali uliuli o ke koʻolau, haʻa nā mamo i ke ahe a ka Malanai, maʻemaʻe wale i ka ua ʻĀpuakea, heahea aku nā kini i kou inoa ʻala lā, e ō mai ʻoe, e Kamalehua i ka ʻiuʻiu. E ka ʻōlali o Oʻahu a Lua, lua ʻole o ke aloha ʻāina, e ka meʻe uʻi o ke kūʻokoʻa, i kūpaʻa no ka pono o ke aupuni, e ka lehua ʻōlino mau, ua mao ʻole kou aloha aliʻi, a no laila me ʻoe ka mahalo mahamaha o nā makamaka o kēia au e kūnewa nei. Ua ala nā kini a me nā mamo, a ke ʻīnana aʻe nei mai ʻō a ʻō o ka pae ʻāina. Ke laha aʻe nei ka moʻolelo o ka huakaʻi ʻimi kūʻokoʻa a he lāʻau ia e lapaʻau ana i ka naʻau a me ka noʻonoʻo o ka hū a me ka lehulehu. E like hoʻi me ka ʻōlelo a J.M. Poepoe, aia ka naʻauao ʻiʻo o ka lāhui o kekahi aupuni a paʻa nā moʻolelo o kona ʻāina kulāiwi iā ia. ʻO ka naʻauao e loaʻa mai ana i ka lāhui ma o nā moʻolelo o kāu mau hana like ʻole, he mea ia e akāka mai ai ke ala i mua o mākou. No laila he aloha mae ʻole kēia i nā kau a kau, e ke kupuna hiwahiwa, i kou hōʻike ʻana mai i ke ʻano maoli o ka ʻauamo, ka hoʻokō, ka hāʻawi pau a me ke aloha ʻāina. E ola mau kou inoa!

History is full of unsung heroes - people who accomplished phenomenal things we don't even realize affect our lives today. So it is with Timoteo Kamalehua Haʻalilio who, along with William Richards and George Simpson, carried out the most important international mission in our history: the quest for recognition of Hawaiʻi as an Independent State. Of chiefly lineage, Haʻalilio became a companion for Kauikeaouli at 8 yrs old and lived his entire life in dedicated service to him. Highly educated, socially adept, and of sterling integrity, he was a perfectly suited as a representative of his King and people. The 3 men traveled for 16 months to arrive at the day we now celebrate as Lā Kūʻokoʻa (Independence Day), November 28, 1843. On this cold day in London, Great Britain and France signed the Anglo-France proclamation (after the initial promise of recognition by America), recognizing Hawaiʻi as an Independent State - the first non-European one to join the Family of Nations. While in London, Haʻalilio took original artwork to a professional engraver to create the coat of arms. While traveling back through America, Haʻalilio fell ill. On December 3, 1844, he died at sea on a ship bound for home. His arduous journey of more than 2 years and 4 months ended, his life a sacrifice for our sovereignty. Let us honor this man and remember his story. Let this bright beacon of the past guide us into the future. Ka Lehua ʻŌlino Mau - The ever-brilliant lehua.

Hālanalana

Hakikili ka ua, hālana ka wai, hālanalana i ka houpo o Kāne; hā ka moana, hālana ke kai, hālanalana i ka houpo o Kanaloa; kaiehu ka moku, pāpapa ka ʻāina. He mau lālani mele kēia e noʻonoʻo ai kākou i nā hopena ʻino o ka meahana ʻana mai o ka honua, ke kumuhana hoʻi o kēia lau e hōʻike ana i ka pili wehena ʻole o ka ʻāina a me ke kai. Ua haku ʻia nō naʻe ua mau lālani mele nei ma luna o nā mele a nā kūpuna, ko lākou wehewehe ʻana i nā ʻino nui i hiki mai i Hawaiʻi nei i ka wā kahiko. ʻO kekahi moʻolelo o ia ʻano, i piha i nā huaʻōlelo nui o ka hoihoi, ʻo ia nō ka hōʻea ehuehu ʻana mai o Pele mā i ka paeʻāina: “Pau nō kēia mau ʻōlelo a Pele, ʻo kona kēnā maila nō ia i nā kānaka e paʻa ana i ka waʻa e pahu i ka waʻa i ka moana. ʻO ka manawa nō ia i pahu aku ai nā kānaka i ua waʻa nei a hele ana i ka moana kai uli, kai hohonu. Ia hala ʻana mai o ka waʻa o Pele, ia wā i hoʻouna mai ai ʻo Kahinaliʻi, ka makuahine, i ke kai hoʻēʻe nui a ka launa ʻole, a lewa ana ka waʻa ʻo Honuaiākea i luna o ka halehale hānupanupa kūhōhō a kāwahawaha o ke kai. Ua huahuaʻi aʻela nā māpuna o ke kai mai lalo aʻe o ka papakū o ka moana, kū ka punakea i uka o ka ʻāina, puleileho ka moana, hakikili ka ua mai ka lani mai. ʻOlaʻolapa ka uila i ka lewa uli, nākolokolo ʻikuā ka leo pāpaʻaʻina o ka hekili, huikau ka lewa nuʻu, ka lewa lalo. Auē! He ʻino! ʻO kēia ke kai luku i ʻōlelo ʻia ʻo ke kai a Kahinaliʻi i alahula ai iā Hawaiʻi nei.” - J.M. Poepoe, Kuokoa Home Rula, 17 January 1908.


The term hālanalana is used to describe both freshwater overflow and saltwater inundation. People who dwell at or near the world’s shorelines are already experiencing the disastrous impacts of climate change, especially indigenous communities with little or no connection to industrialized food production. In Hawaiʻi, rising sea levels and extreme weather floods pose challenges to communities seeking to restore traditional food production systems. During the 2017 king tides, the recently refurbished wall of Paepae o Heʻeia, Oʻahu’s most functional loko iʻa (fishpond), was completely submerged, a signal that sea level rise already demands increased fortification. The inland component to this food system are the loʻi kalo (irrigated ponds for growing kalo) at Kākoʻo ʻŌiwi, which mitigate the amount of sediment in the river water that empties into the fishpond. Extreme weather flooding events (which are exacerbated by climate change) can damage the farm’s traditional water infrastructure and destroy crops. This design speaks to the connectivity of land and sea embodied in the flow of water through this system and the challenges climate change poses to it. However, because Hawaiian systems design is shaped by the ʻāina and its attendant weather systems (and not the other way around), solutions for increased resiliency are embedded in our ancestral technology. Support those seeking to unpack that knowledge and create those solutions, our future just might depend on it.

Hāliʻi Maile

Haʻinakolo lived a life full of challenges and adventures that was made even more colorful by her younger siblings, the famous Maile sisters: Mailelauliʻi, Mailelaunui, Mailekaluhea, Mailepākaha, and Mailehaʻiwale. The unique qualities and abilities of each came to the fore when Haʻinakolo needed help. Occasionally, they were called on to beautify or impress, like the time when Mailelauliʻi, Haʻinakolo, and others were en route to Kuaihelani, but stopped on Oʻahu to play pūhenehene (a stone-hiding game). This likely annoyed Keaumiki and Keaukā, who were trying to deliver Haʻinakolo to Keāniniʻulaokalani. But chiefesses will do as they please, and she fancied a visit with Oʻahu’s royalty. After a friendly competition with Kahuailana, the island’s most famous beauty, Haʻinakolo mā were invited to an ʻaha ʻaina (feast). They happily agreed and insisted that they’d take care of the “lānai ʻaha ʻaina” (feast tent) under which the party would take place. After some discussion, they took a single hair from Mailelauliʻi’s head and over it their aunty uttered a special prayer (flip to read). Then they stuck one end of this strand into the earth at the base of a kou tree. It immediately began growing into a luxuriant blanket of maile, spreading over the surrounding kou trees and forming a malu (shady protection) for the folks attending the party. Oʻahu’s people watched in awe as the maile covered the feast grounds “like a fine pāwehe mat woven by skilled hands,” a gift by which they’d always remember their illustrious visitors from Waipiʻo. He hāliʻi ʻala, he moena pāwehe. A fragrant covering, a finely patterned mat.

E ka maile kū i ke awakea,
E ka maile hihi i ka lāʻau,
Maile aliʻi kū i ka wao.
ʻO kō kino lau, e ulu.
E poʻi i ke kahua nui, i ke kahua iki.
E hohola nā lālā, e muʻo, e liko–
E lau ka lau, e hihi a paʻa,
I malumalu hale no Kū a me Hina.
ʻO Hina i ka wai lele ʻo Hiʻilawe,
Lawe aʻe ou mau kino lau a paʻa;
Ka maile lau nui, ka maile lau liʻi,
Ka maile kaluhea, ka maile pākaha,
A me [ka] maile haʻi wale.
ʻO Haʻihaʻilauāhea,
ʻO Haʻi hana maile o ka wao,
ʻO kō kino nei lā, e ulu.

 

Maile that appears at midday,
Maile that spreads over the trees,
Regal maile that stands in the forest,
Your body forms, let them grow,
Grow over the large grounds, the small grounds,
Branch out, bud forth, and grow leaves,
A plenitude of leaves, a dense entanglement,
To form a shady house for Kū and Hina,
Hina of the Hiʻilawe waterfall,
Bring your many forms to make it solid;
The large leaf maile, the small leaf maile,
The fragrant maile, the stout leaf maile,
And the tender maile,
O Haʻihaʻilauāhea,
Haʻi who generates maile in the forest,
This body of yours, let it grow!

Hānai

2. vt. To raise, feed, nourish, sustain; provider, caretaker... (Hawaiian Dictionary). This design is dedicated to Hawaiʻi's fishponds and all those who and restore care for them. Fishponds were one of the main sources of food for Hawaiians and represent sustenance and sustainability. Restoration of both fishponds and loʻi (irrigated terraces for growing kalo) is a way for people in Hawaiʻi to become more self-reliant one ahupuaʻa at a time, providing clean protein and one of the most delicious and nourishing staple starches on earth. He pōhaku ka ʻai, kaʻa i ka lawa - If stones are the food, that will suffice. This ʻōlelo was inspired by "Mele ʻAi Pōhaku" (lit. "the rock-eating song" a.k.a. "Kaulana Nā Pua"), a patriotic national song of resistance to the (false) annexation of Hawaiʻi into the U.S. (no document exists to prove this merger). This metaphor of eating stones, rather than relying on government money, is contrasted here with thriving land (Ola ka ʻāina) where an abundance of food is produced in fishponds and taro patches, both built out of pōhaku. We could eat stones if we needed to, but with our expert technology we don't have to. We just have to turn our hands down toward the soil and water (hoʻohuli i ka lima i lalo) to produce our food.

Hawaiian Soul, Ke Kiʻiʻonoʻoni

“ʻAʻole lā e hoʻokiʻekiʻe aʻe ke kanaka i kona kūlana ma luna aʻe o ko ka ʻāina. ʻO ka hā e nape ana i kona houpo, ʻo ia hā like nō o Papahānaumoku. He kauā ke kanaka no ka ʻāina, ka mea e hānai mau ana i kona kino a me kona ʻuhane.” Kai ka noʻeau o kēia ʻōlelo a George Jarrett Helm Jr., he keiki papa no Molokai, he puʻuwai hao kila nāna i kuʻupau i kona aloha ʻāina ma ka ʻimi ʻana i ala e pau ai ka hoʻopahū ʻia ʻana o Kahoʻolawe, ka mokupuni i hoʻohana ʻia e ka pūʻalikoa ʻAmelika no ka hoʻomaʻamaʻa kaua ʻana no nā makahiki he nui hewahewa (1941-1990). Helu ʻia ʻo George i loko o ka pūʻulu kanaka i hōʻea kino aku i Kahoʻolawe i ia wā i mea e pau ai kona hanaʻino ʻia ʻana. ʻO kona leo nō naʻe kai kaulana loa i waena o ka lāhui, i ke mele a me ka haʻiʻōlelo e mālamalama ai ka noʻonoʻo o kānaka. Wahi āna, ʻo ka “ʻuhane” o kona mau kūpuna kai ili iho ma luna ona a pēlā nō paha i ʻike ai, i loko nōkī ona, ʻo ke aloha nō kai ʻoi aʻe. ʻO kona aloha i ka ʻāina a me ka lāhui ka mea e kau mau ai kona inoa i ka hano. Na ʻĀina Paikai kēia kiʻiʻoniʻoni pōkole, ʻo Hawaiian Soul, e hoʻohanohano aku ana iā George Helm, ka paʻa ʻana mai o kona kahua ma Molokai, a me kona aloha i ka mele Hawaiʻi, nā mea nui hoʻi i alakaʻi mau iā ia ma kona ʻimi ʻana i ka pono o Kahoʻolawe. He mahalo mānuʻunuʻu ko ʻĀina lāua me Kamaʻāina Creations i ka ʻohana Helm, nā mea hana keaka, a me nā limahana a pau o kēia kiʻiʻoniʻoni. | hawaiiansoulmovie.com

Hawaiian Soul Movie "There is man and there is environment. One does not supersede the other. The breath in man is the breath of Papa. Man is merely the caretaker of the land that maintains his life and nourishes his soul.” These are the words of George Jarrett Helm Jr., a kamaʻāina of Molokai who dedicated his life to the pursuit of aloha ʻāina, especially to ending the desecration of Kahoʻolawe, the island used for target practice by the American military from 1941-1990. George was one of several Hawaiians who occupied Kahoʻolawe, putting their bodies between the military and the island to stop the bombing, a peaceful but powerful form of physical protest. George also put himself in front of many crowds of citizens, visitors, students, and politicians. Using music and oratory, he opened people’s hearts and minds, fueling a “revolution of consciousness” that he knew was desperately needed. He believed that knowledge would empower people to push back against the destruction of the land and the trampling of their rights. As a Hawaiian who “inherited the soul” of his kūpuna, George led with aloha. Hawaiian Soul is a short film by ʻĀina Paikai that gives a little insight into George’s devotion to aloha ʻāina. In it, we learn of George’s Molokai roots and love for Hawaiian music, both of which fed him in his quest to protect Kahoʻolawe. Through the film, ʻĀina hopes to honor this man who is a personal hero to him and so many others. Mahalo nui to everyone involved in making this movie, especially the Helm ʻohana, cast, and crew! Learn more at hawaiiansoulmovie.com

Hīhīmanu

This is the Hawaiian term for stingrays and spotted eagle rays. Also carrying the meaning of lavish, magnificent or elegant, these aptly named creatures are some of the most stunning organisms to frequent Hawaiian waters. Hīhīmanu are found in warm ocean areas the world over and the beautiful patterns of spots on their bodies are indicative of their birthplace. Hīhīmanu is also the name of a famous peak on the island of Kauaʻi. Hele nō ā hīhīmanu - It becomes elegant.

Haumea & Hina

I kinohi loa, ʻaʻohe wahi ʻano o ka lani me ka honua, ʻoiai hoʻi, “ʻO ka lewa lipolipo a ka ʻohu panopano e ʻaʻaki paʻa mau ʻia ana e ka pouli, a ʻo ka puhohō neoneo mehameha loa me ka mole ʻole ke hāliʻi mau ana me ka pau ʻole.” Aia wale nō ma laila ka Pūkuʻiakuanuiākea (Kānenuiākea, Kūnuiākea me Lononuiākea) a me Kāhulikāhelanuiākea, ka wahine hoʻokahi. I nānā aku ka hana a lākou nei i ke alo lamalama a me ka “nani polohiwa mania” o ka wahine lā, ulu aʻela ke aloha a me ka makemake nui, a moe ihola he kāne a he wahine. “Mai loko mai o lākou nei ka moʻo akua, ka Honua-Lani me ko lāua mau mea i piha ai.” A no laila, hānau ʻia ka moʻo akua ma nā ʻanuʻu (kāoʻo) a ma ka lua o ka ʻanuʻu, peneia: “Pūkuʻiakuanuiākea (k) aoaʻa papa [moe] iā Haunuiākea (w), hānau ʻo Haumeanuiākea (w), ʻo Hinapuahihimea nō ia.” He ala kēia e maopopo ai iā kākou ē, he mau alo a māhele paha ʻo Haumea lāua me Hina o ka wahine hoʻokahi, a pēlā ka hoʻohanohano ʻia ana ma ka lau nei. Ua hōʻiliʻili ʻia nā inoa he nui no ua Haumea/Hina nei, nā mea hoʻi i ʻike ʻia ma nā mele a me nā moʻolelo he lehulehu e pili ana iā lāua. Ma ʻaneʻi mākou e hōʻike aku nei, i hahani hou ka maka o ke kanaka i ka nani, i nalu ka noʻonoʻo i nā ʻano, i ola hou hoʻi i kēia au o kākou nei, kākou mamo a lākou ala. Ua lawe ʻia ka ʻike ma luna aʻe mai loko mai o ka “Moʻolelo Hawaiʻi Kumuhonua” a Z. Kalai (Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, 17 July 1896).

 

In the very beginning, there was no sign of the heavens or the earth, for it was a time of deep and persistent darkness, an empty, black nothingness that expanded outward endlessly. The only things present within it were the male creative entities, Kānenuiākea, Kūnuiākea and Lononuiākea (known collectively as the Pūkuʻiakuanuiākea), as well as the female creative entity, Kāhulikāhelanuiākea. The Pūkuʻiakuanuiākea gazed upon her incredibly radiant, smooth countenance and were overcome with aloha and great desire, which was quickly consummated. The first creations to emerge from their unions were akua, who were born in groups. Haunuiākea (f), an akua wahine from this first group, then coupled with the Pūkuʻiakuanuiākea (m), producing the second group of akua, where “Haumeanuiākea (f) was born, who is also known as Hinapuahihimea.” This is one way to understand Haumea and Hina as two parts of one whole, thus our choice to honor both in this design. As ancient akua in the larger genealogical flow, Haumea/Hina are connected to the formation of the universe and all the things that fill it, so they have myriad forms and inoa (names). From the numerous poetic compositions and stories about Haumea/Hina, we gathered a significant number of inoa and presented them here so that their beauty can be seen, contemplated, and appreciated once again in this current era. This version of creation is found in the genealogy known as “Moʻolelo Hawaiʻi Kumuhonua” by Z. Kalai (Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, 17 July 1896). 

Haumea I. - Nā Moʻopuna

ʻŌlelo ʻia maila he akua wahine hānau wawā ʻo Haumea. Eia iho kekahi māhele kanikau na “Noʻiau” i hoʻohui ʻia maila me kā Kamakau i akāka ka nuʻa ʻana mai o ka mana akua i loko o kā Haumea mau moʻopuna:
ʻO Haumea nui a ke āiwaiwa,
A ke kalohe akua i nā keiki,
I ka iho nō Piʻo i nā moʻopuna,
I ka huli koke iho nō i nā keiki,
Moe moʻopuna kualima iā Hāloa,
[ʻO Hinamanouluaʻe ka wahine, ʻo Waia ke keiki]
Moe moʻopuna kuaono iā Waia,
[ʻO Huhune ka wahine, ʻo Hinanalo ke keiki]
Moe moʻopuna kuahiku iā Hinanalo,
[ʻO Haunuʻu ka wahine, ʻo Nānākāhili ke keiki]
Moe moʻopuna kuawalu nō iā Nānākāhili,
[ʻO Haulani ka wahine, ʻo Wailoa ke keiki]
Moe moʻopuna kuaiwa nō iā Wailoa,
[ʻO Hikawaopuanaiea ka wahine, ʻo Kiʻo ke keiki]
Iā Wailoa ʻo Haumea kapa i ka inoa ʻo Hikawaopuanaiea,
Hoʻi nō a Nuʻumehalani,
ʻO ka lani kahi noho o ia wahine,
Paʻipaʻi i nā ū, kapakapa i ka inoa,
Papani ka wai o ke akua wahine,
Iā “Kiʻo” laha nā aliʻi...
(No ke kanikau piha, kipa iā Kealopiko Moʻolelo)

ʻO Haumea nui a ke āiwaiwa - profoundly wondrous Haumea. She is the akua wahine (female deity) of multiple names and myriad forms; the principle female energy that joins with many male counterparts in the dance of creation, producing innumerable offspring. Haumea is one and the same with Laʻilaʻi, Owe, Kahakauakoko, Papahānaumoku, Huhune, Hinamanouluaʻe, and many other akua wahine whose names recall our most distant origins. They form the feminine flow that gifts the ipu ʻaumakua (womb) and the sacred red waters to all wahine in a continual stream of genealogy. One of Haumea’s hana āiwaiwa (amazing or notorious deeds), is a succession of matings with six moʻopuna (grandchildren). In each case, she returned to the Haleopapa in Nuʻumehalani, refashioned herself into a young woman with a new name, and returned to Hawaiʻi to piʻo again. Kiʻo, the last moʻopuna, realized what his grandmother was doing, so she stopped and returned to Nuʻumehalani. She left him to be the source of aliʻi bloodlines, as this string of piʻo matings via her six forms would have given him many aspects of her akua nature. Perhaps this was the real reason for these matings, rather than an act of revenge against Wākea for having a child with their daughter, Hoʻohokukalani, as is suggested by some writers. After Kiʻo, Haumea’s red waters ran dry and her breast milk stopped flowing. When her womb ceased to nurture life, she began birthing from her brain and other parts of her body, producing the Pele clan, a powerful metaphor for the intellectual and creative contributions of wahine who’ve transitioned out of their childbearing years. 

Haumea II. - ʻAwa

Ka Pule Hailona ʻAwa a Haumea
Eia ka ʻawa, e ke akua,
He ʻai nāu, e ke akua,
He ʻai na kini, na ka mano a me ka lehu o ke akua,
ʻO ke akua i ka pō loa,
ʻO kini o ke akua, lau a menehune ke akua—
Mai ka hikina a ke komohana,
Mai ka lā kau a ka lā komo,
Mai kai Koʻolau a kai Kona,
Mai ka paʻa i luna a ka paʻa i lalo,
Mai ka hoʻokuʻi a ka hālāwai,
E hālāwai a pau, eia ka ʻai, ke ō,
Eia lā he ʻawa—
He ʻawa nānā pono, nānā hewa,
He uli pono, he uli hewa,
He ola, he make,
Huaʻina ke ola o ke kanaka,
ʻO ke ola nui, ʻo ke ola loa āu,
A ke akua,
Ola kuʻu aloha,
Ola loa nō—
ʻĀmama—Ua noa—Lele wale

As a kaikuahine (sister) to Kāne and Kanaloa, Haumea’s relationship to ʻawa stretches back into ke au iō kikilo loa (the distant past). In the koʻihonua for Ahukai Kaʻuʻukualiʻi (Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, 20 June 1868), Kāne and Kanaloa journey over the ocean to Hawaiʻi. After their arrival, they ʻālana (offer) to Haumea the “pū ʻawa hiwa” and she conceives a child to them, purported in this chant to be her first. We know, however, that the great, fertile mother of all has several kāne to whom she bears children. One of the most notable is Wākea, with whom she lives in Kalihilihiolaumiha. When Wākea gets in a debacle for taking wild bananas that supposedly belong to the unkind chief, Kumuhonua, he is taken for execution. Haumea (Papa), who is fishing during Wākea’s capture, must then ascertain whether or not he is alive. Her chosen tool for hailona (divination) is the ʻapu ʻawa. Kaliʻu, a man she meets on her path to find her kāne, has the ʻawa she needs, but no water. Haumea chants to her kūpuna, throws a stone deep into the mountains, and a spring opens, filling the pool known as Pūehuehu. The text in this design is the first two lines in that pule: Ō kokolo ke aʻa i ka pō loa (Creep along, root, in the generative darkness), Ō puka ka maka i ke ao loa (Come forth, shoot, into the light). Kaliʻu prepares the ʻapu and over it Haumea does another pule (flip to read). When she gazes into the ʻapu, the pūnohu of the ʻawa is on the right side, indicating that her beloved Wākea is still alive. This powerful story shows us Haumea’s ability to use ʻawa, a tool gifted to her by her brothers, to commune with the akua and receive answers in a time of need.

Haumea III. - Pūpū

E Kāneikawaiola, e Kūikikilani,
E Lononohoikawai,
E maliu mai i ka leo,
Hōkūkū i mua ke oho o ka hoi o Maliʻo,
O Mālanaiku, o ka wahine, o Kapolei,
He lei ia no Papa i ke ʻālina,
I ka maliʻo o ke kakahiaka,
He ʻula, he mōhai ʻālana, e kala, e ola,
E ola, e ka haku lei o ʻĀwihilono,
ʻO ka wahine piʻo mua, ʻaʻe wahi kapu,
Kapu kai e lono i ke kiu lā a—Hiu,
Hiua ka malo lawakua o Kanaloa,
ʻO Haumea ka ʻena a kino lani,
ʻO Kūnakapolei i ka honua,
Hoʻoili lei haele, hoʻoili ʻula ē,
Hoʻoili malo ē, lei ē, lei kū,
Leikauaakāne kō kapa,
He kapa ia no Kāne me Nuʻakea,
I kuku ʻia e Papa i ka Honua,
I kukuku, hana ʻia e Lalohana,
Kani kekeʻu ke kua, kuʻikē ka loa,
Hoʻōki i nao Makaliʻi,
Ke kapa a ka wahine ʻoʻopu holo lalo,
I kuku a oki, kaulaʻi i lalo o ka honua,
Kaʻa ka honua i ke kapa a ka wahine...
No ka pule piha e kipa iā Kealopiko Moʻolelo: Haumea III. - Pūpū

In one of our creation stories, Lalohana (w) births the newly forming world and ʻŌpuʻukahonua (k) sucks the nalu (amniotic fluid) from its nose. Auikahuliʻōwelakahonua then holds the child up in the air and the remaining nalu and other fluids flow out everywhere. They quickly merge back together forming the Moana Nui a Kāne, which is then separated into 11 different kai (seas). “ʻO ke kai o Wauke, na Haumea ia” - Wauke’s sea is the domain of Haumea. This ancient connection of Haumea to the wauke plant is just one of many associations she has with kapa. This traditional barkcloth of our kūpuna is often called the fabric of life and our compositions reflect this. In the “pule hoʻīnana kanaka” (prayer to increase the people) above, Haumea is the maker of fine white and red malo that are carried into the heiau and the latter is put on the kiʻi akua (carved image) of Kū. Haumea making kapa together with Lalohana is then spoken about, culminating in the line “kaʻa ka honua i ke kapa a ka wahine” - the world turns on the kapa made by the woman. If this comes as a surprise because we normally associate kapa with Hina, one theory is that Haumea and Hina are different facets of the same divine feminine principle, the roots of which go all the way back to Laʻilaʻi in genealogies like the Kumulipo. This design was patterned after an old kapa with a watermark commonly known as mole pūpū. These hundreds of little pūpū are decorations hidden in the cloth, reminding us that these akua wahine are silently, but powerfully present in so many aspects of our living world and the very foundations of who we are.

Haumea IV. - Pua Hau

I ka wā i hāpai keiki aʻe ai ʻo Koananai, kekahi aliʻi wahine o Kauaʻi, ʻo ka ʻono nō ia i ka heʻe mākole o Kalihi Kai i hoʻohui ʻia me ka wana o ʻAnini. ʻO ka hana nō ke kiʻi a kāna kāne, a Kalalea, me nā aliʻi ʻē aʻe, a pau aʻe ia ʻono. I ka puni ʻana o ka ʻōpū o Koananai, hala aʻela ʻaono pō, ʻaono ao, ʻaʻohe mea a hemo iki o ke keiki. Hoʻouna ʻia akula ʻo Kaikialaweo, he punahele na Kalalea, e kiʻi i ke kahuna, iā Kanoeoalakaʻi, i lalo o Wainiha a hōʻike maila nō kēlā i nā mea e pono ai kona kōkua ʻana i ke aliʻi wahine. I kona wā i hiki aku ai i mua o Koananai mā, nīnau akula ia i ka mākaukau o nā mea i kauoha ʻia a pane aʻela ʻo Kalalea: “Eia, ua mākaukau ka wai, he wai puna o Kaluaokuahine, a me ʻelua pua hau o Hōmaikawaʻa, a me nā kiliʻoʻopu, a i kai o Kalihi. Ua mākaukau.” wahi a Kalalea. Lālau akula ʻo Kanoeoalakaʻi i kēia mau mea a pau a pule aʻela i kona wahi ʻAumakua inu ʻawa, a pau ia, hāʻawi akula ia iā Kaikialaweo e kuʻi i nā pua hau a me nā kiliʻoʻopu, a wali kēia mau mea, hui pū me ka wai. Ia wā i hāʻawi aku ai ke kahuna iā Koananai, ua hana ʻia a ka ʻapu, a ʻī akula ia, “E inu ʻoe.” I ka wā nō i hoʻomaka ai ʻo Koananai e inu, kuʻi iho ana ka hekili, ʻōlapa ka uila, nei ke ōlaʻi, kahe ka wai ʻula, ua ka ua koko, pouli ka lewa. Ia wā koke nō, ʻalalā ana ke keiki i waho. (Aahoaka, Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, 3 February 1877) Ua like nō kēia me ka moʻolelo kupanaha no ko Haumea hoʻohānau ʻana iā Muleiʻula, kekahi aliʻi wahine o Oʻahu. He nani maoli nō ka lāʻau a Haumea lāua ʻo Hina i makana mai ai iā kākou.

 

Hinahaukaekae was often confined to the walls of Malae heiau on Kauaʻi because if she went out, she had to be back before nightfall. The beautiful blossom her mother gifted her that changes color over the day (from pale yellow to red) was meant to help her keep time, but when she rushed out one fine morning, she left it behind. While out, she met children who needed light wood for their kite, fishermen who needed the same for net floats, a man whose canoe outrigger was too heavy, people who lacked carrying nets for their ipu, and a woman who needed medicine for a terrible dry cough and for her sister who was struggling in childbirth. In her desire to help, she got distracted and lost track of time. As the sun set, her feet sprouted roots, her arms stretched into limbs and her body became the hau tree, ultimately providing the people with wood, fiber, and medicine (Polihale & Other Kauaʻi Legends, Wichman, 1991). Hau (Hibiscus tiliaceus) is also a kinolau of Haumea, so this story helps us see that Hina and Haumea are two different faces of the same feminine force. Haumea is well known for assisting women who are struggling in labor with her blossoms kanikawī and kanikawā. In the story of Aahoaka, another Kauaʻi tale, the aliʻi wahine Koananai was given an ʻapu (medicinal mixture) of two hau flowers, two stalks of kiliʻoʻopu sedge, and the water of Kaluaokuahine to induce labor (flip for this story in ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi). The incredible hau plant with its many uses is a wonderful gift from our most ancient akua wahine.

Haumea V. - Ke Kapa o ke ao

ʻOiai no loko mai ʻo ia o Kāhulikāhelanuiākea, ʻo Haumea nō kahi lehua o ke kāhuli a me ka loli. I ka māhele ʻia ʻana o nā kai o ka honua e ka Pūkuʻiakua, ua ʻōlelo ʻia ʻo “ke kai o Wauke, na Haumea ia,” a no laila, mai kinohi loa mai nō kona kuku ʻana i ka wauke i kapa, a kaʻa ka honua i ke kapa āna, wahi a nā kūpuna. ʻO ia kapa a ʻupena lani nui nō paha kahi i mākia paʻa ʻia ai nā hōkū i hoʻohānau ʻia iā Haumeakuohanuiākea, iā Hinakaʻalelewa, a me ka lehulehu o nā akua, ma ke kauhoa lā o Anomakaliʻikapō, ka mea nāna i hoʻokuleana iā lākou “I mau ahi lākou no laila, e hoʻohānau a e hoʻomālamalama i ka honua, i lama lākou no ia hanauna aku, ia hanauna aku.” Na lākou nō hoʻi i hoʻohānau a “māhele” i nā mea ola a pau ma ka honua, pēlā pū me kānaka, a ua pili paha kēia i kahi lālani mele no Haumea, he wahine “No ka ʻaunaki kukū ahi kanaka.” He nani ia na ua mau “kūpuna Hōkū Aliʻi o luna” ke ahi a me ka wela, na lākou nō e hoʻolālā i nā pō huʻihuʻi a me nā pō pumehana ma ka malama, a e māhele i ka hoʻoilo a me ka makaliʻi. No laila, ua nui ka hana a Haumea lāua ʻo Hina i ke kaupalena ʻana i ke au o ka manawa o ka honua, a ma kona mau papa like ʻole e hoʻīnana mai ai ko ke kāne a hānau ʻia aku nā mea like ʻole, pū nō me nā manaʻo nui o ke kanaka. Auē ka ʻihiʻihi me ka mahalo i ua mau kūpuna lani nei o kākou, i ke ahi a me ka wai, nā mea koʻikoʻi e ola ai kākou, nā pulapula. Na Z. Kalai kekahi o ka ʻike ma luna aʻe nei
(“Moʻolelo Hawaiʻi Kumuhonua”, Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, 17 July 1896).
 
Haumea V. - The Universal Fabric
The original lehua (expert) of transformation, Haumea beats out connected fibers to form a network in which life can exist, a great web in which stars can be suspended, the fabric of creation upon which the world turns. In one origin story, Haumeakuohanuiākea, Hinakaʻalelewa, and many other akua were placed in the deep heavens as sources of eternal fire and heat for the earth. They were tasked with dividing time into seasons and choosing the warm and cold nights. Then they each took their heat and birthed the living things on earth, including humans, followed by the stars in the heavens, which they fixed in place with the sun and the moon. Haumea and Hina playing a part in setting up space, establishing seasonal cycles, and connecting celestial bodies to terrestrial ones is perhaps their oldest and most enduring contribution to the web of life. It is within their boundaries, and in combination with the male creative spark, that things gestate and emerge, whether stars, life forms, or ideas. In the same way Kūmau and Hānaiakamalama sit at the north and south ends of the star space, perhaps Haumea and Hina contain much of the creative energy that flows around and through us. Their manifestations of fire and water are foundational elements in the cycle of creation and destruction of which we, as their descendants, are all an integral part.

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Heʻe | Alaheʻe

Since we could not pass up this awesome combo, the ladies of Kealopiko offer you another pairing from the Kumulipo. A delicious iʻa (food from the ocean), heʻe is well-known and loved by many. There are three species found in Hawaiian waters: Octopus cyanea (a.k.a. "day octopus"), Octopus ornatus (a.k.a. heʻe pū loa or "night octopus"), and the very small Octopus hawaiiensis - the only species endemic to our islands. The upland friend of the heʻe, the alaheʻe tree, is less popular than itʻs charismatic ocean counterpart. This small indigenous tree grows in dry to mesic forests on all the main islands (except Kahoʻolawe and Niʻihau). Itʻs hard and durable wood was fashioned into ʻōʻō (digging sticks for cultivation) and a variety of spears (including ʻō and ihe). Could it be that spears made from this wood were used for "poking" heʻe itself? After all, ʻōheʻe is another name for this species (hmmm...), as well as walaheʻe. The blossoms of this plant have a strongly sweet odor (maybe why scientists call it Psydrax odorata) that often slips or slides (heʻe) along the breeze. The nickname "Hawaiian mock orange" should give you an idea of the headiness of this fragrance that is blown into many peopleʻs houses when their hedges burst into bloom. Ke ʻala e heʻe ana i ke ahe a ka makani - The fragrance that slips by on the gentle blowing of the breeze.

Hei

Modern science now tells us that we learn language through movement while in the womb, matching precise actions to specific sounds made by our mothers. Hawaiians understood this kinesthetic relationship to sound long before microscopes and ultrasounds were invented. They developed many sophisticated ways of using sound to store memory in the body. Hei, or the making of string figures (a.k.a. catʻs cradle), is one of these techniques. Hei was often employed as a way to help memorize long chants, but was used for many other purposes from fun to ritual. The word hei means to ensnare or capture, hinting at the possibility of capturing something desired when done with prayers in ritual. Hei is done by peoples worldwide, but as practiced by those in the Pacific it is associated with Kanaloa, god of the ocean. Dr. Taupōuri Tangarō (Panaʻewa, Hawaiʻi) generously shared his knowledge of hei with us, as well as the hei pictured on this garment, which he refers to as "Ka pae mānewenewe, ka pae manuʻa o Kanaloa." This name speaks to the vast and immeasurable presence that is Kanaloa, manifest in SO many wondrous forms. Some of those forms captured in the hei include the moon with four coral polyps on each side and the pū (head) of a heʻe (octopus) with eight aweawe (tentacles). Dr. Tangarō explains that the kaula (string) used in hei teaches us about the connectedness of the world and is a symbolic representation of our own connection to all potential (like a baby in the womb is connected to life through its piko and ʻiewe). Punihei aku nei i ka hie o ia kaula - Captivated by the attractiveness of that string.

Hīnaʻi

Hawaiian fishing methods are incredibly diverse. The use of baskets to trap fish was a popular method and often done by women. Baskets of various shapes and sizes were used to catch all kinds of fish including kala, hīnālea, palani, uhu, halahala, kūmū, ʻōpae, ʻoʻopu, and more. The aerial roots of the ʻieʻie (Freycinetia arborea) were the main material for various classes of baskets including hīnaʻi, pai (also ʻapai and ʻāpua), ʻie (ʻie palani, ʻie kala, etc.), ʻapi, and others. Small, single use baskets (hīnaʻi hoʻoluʻuluʻu, naomakalua, etc.) were woven from ʻāwikiwiki (Canavalia spp.), huehue (Cocculus ferrandianus), and other vining species. Some hīnaʻi had a rock woven onto the bottom side to weight them down to the ocean floor, others were secured by piling rocks around them. They were designed so that fish could swim in, but not back out. Various types of bait (pumpkin, ʻuala, kalo, crushed niu, wana, hāʻukeʻuke, limu, etc.) were often placed in the baskets to attract the fish. The hīnaʻi kala (also ʻie kala) was the largest of the baskets. Woven under kapu by men over 2-3 days, they were then filled with limu kala and lowered from a canoe. They were switched out with the ʻapi - open feeding baskets used beforehand to tame and fatten the fish. One haul in a hīnaʻi kala could hold up to 60 fish! Nothing short of ingenious. Ka ʻie lawe e lawa ai ka makemake - The basket that satisfies one's desires (provides what one needs).

Hinahānaiakamalama

Nui nā lāhui helu lā o ka honua, ʻo ka poʻe Hawaiʻi naʻe, he lāhui helu pō. Nani ka like o nā inoa pō mahina ma Hawaiʻi a puni, me ka ʻokoʻa hoʻi o nā inoa malama, i mea hoʻi e maopopo ai, ʻokoʻa kēlā me kēia ʻāina, ka nui o ka ua, nā lāʻau e ulu ana, a pēlā aku. ʻO ka lawaiʻa, ka mahiʻai, ka lapaʻau, ke kaʻi ʻaha, nā hana like ʻole hoʻi a kānaka, aia nō i ka mahina. ʻO ia hale anu nani o luna lā kahi o Hinahānaiakamalama, keiki a Kekoʻiʻulaakahaʻi (k) lāua ʻo Keānuenuepiʻolani (w). Lilo ʻo ia he wahine na ʻAikanaka a hānau ʻia maila kā lāua mau keiki, ʻo Puna, kupuna o ko Kauaʻi poʻe aliʻi, a ʻo Hema, kupuna o ko Maui me ko Hawaiʻi poʻe aliʻi. Ua ʻōlelo ʻia, no ka luhi o ka nohona a me ka hana ʻino ʻia mai e kāna kāne, lele aʻela ua wahine nei i ka mahina e noho ai. ʻO ka pō ia ʻo Lono a iā ia i lele aʻe ai i luna, lālau akula kāna kāne i kona wāwae, a muku ihola, a pēlā i kapa ʻia ai kona inoa ʻo Lonomuku. Mai kahi wāwae ona i ulu mai ai ka ʻuala hualani. ʻO kāna ʻai nō hoʻi ia ma kona hale hou, a pēlā ka loaʻa ʻana mai o ka inoa ʻo Hinahānaiakamalama. Ma ka mahina nō ʻo ia e hoʻomau aku ai i kāna hana nui, ʻo ke kuku kapa, ka mea i kaulana ai kona inoa ma ka honua nei, ke kapa palupalu a nani loa hoʻi āna i kuku ai me ka lima noʻeau.

There are many mana (versions) of the story of Hinahānaiakamalama and how she left earth to take refuge in the mahina (moon). In one mana, she leaps from Puʻu Māʻeliʻeli in Heʻeia, in attempt to escape her cruel and abusive husband. It was on the night of Lono, and as she jumped, he grabbed her leg and pulled it off, leaving it muku (amputated), hence the name Lonomuku. From her leg grew the ʻuala (sweet potato), a kinolau of Lono. Other accounts explain that in the moon, Hina found a variety of ʻuala called hualani (fruit of heaven) that was her nourishment there, from which comes the name Hinahānaiakamalama, or Hina nourished by the moon. Safe in her silvery home, Hina pounds her kapa and sets the rhythms for planting, fishing, and many other aspects of Hawaiian life. Each mahina (night of the moon) has a name and these are usually consistent across our various ʻāina. The malama (months), however, differ between islands and even districts, as each locality has its own unique aspect, weather patterns, geography, and assemblage of plants and animals. Our kūpuna were in constant conversation with the mahina, developing specialized local knowledge through observation and practice over time.

Hīnano

Ma nā moʻolelo hiwahiwa a nā kūpuna, kākaʻikahi ka wehewehe ʻia ʻana o ia mea he hoʻāo. Pēlā nō naʻe ka hana a Hinaʻaiulunui, ka uʻi polo hīnano ʻaʻala hoʻi o ka wai o Hiʻilawe, lāua ʻo Kūʻaikauakama a loaʻa mai nō ʻo Haʻinakolo. Aia nō i lalo o ke ahu kapa hīnano a ke kahuna, a Aniani, i lawe mai ai me ka ʻī aʻe, “E aʻu mau aliʻi hānau o ka ʻāina, eia ke kapa hīnano o Waipiʻo nei. He kapa i kūlia i ke kapu akua a me ke kapu aliʻi. Aia wale nō ka noa o nei kapa a moe ʻia e ka ʻulapaʻa. He kapa hoʻāo kēia no kuʻu lei, ka milimili lani hoʻi a kākou, ka hiʻialo a hiʻikua a nā aliʻi o kākou...” ʻO kona kāhea akula nō ia iā Hinaʻaiulunui me kahi pule e pili pono ai ka wahine me ke kāne (ʻo Hina hoʻi me Kū) i mea e loaʻa mai ai ke keiki. I lawa nō a pau ka pule, komo aku lāua i loko o ke kapa hīnano “wailehua” a hoʻāo nō lāua i mua o ke anaina aliʻi. Eia ua pule kāhea lā:

E Hinamelelani—ē,

E Hinapukuiʻa,

E Hinaikeaomelemele,

E Hinaʻaiulunui,

E Hina i uka,

E Hina i kai,

Hina ʻia mai kō kapu a moe i kauwewe,

Eia lā he ʻahu hīnano ka paʻa luna, ka paʻa lalo,

Hele mai a moe i ke kai o kō haku kūnane,

E kū mai hoʻi.

 

Love dust. Passion pollen. Erotic ʻehu. So many monikers for the hīnano, the famous blossom and its potently perfumed pollen! From the fragrant bowers of Puna to the sea-drinking hala of Naue, this pua hanohano (glorious flower) is celebrated all across the island chain. Hala (Pandanus tectorius) has male trees (hala hīnano) and female trees (hala hua). Scientists refer to such species as dioecious (two houses). It’s the male hala flower that yields copious amounts of the heady pollen we know as the original Hawaiian aphrodisiac. Not only is it aromatic, it also has a very real effect when consumed or applied to certain parts of the body at, ahem, certain times. We know of one man who kept this tantalizing pollen in a salt shaker on his bedside table and always had a pack of ladies following him around. Traditionally, it was sprinkled under malo as a talcum powder and used to scent kapa and various kinds of mats. The hīnano blossom is actually several flowers joined together, each sheltered by a cream colored bract (polohīnano). These fragrant bracts were woven into fine mats called puahala in some places and added into roof thatching as well. A metaphor for love, passion, and even status, hīnano is found in countless mele. Naʻenaʻe ka hīnano, ka hanu o ka makani - Fragrant hīnano, the breath of the wind.

He Hoʻoheno Ua

ʻIkea ke kualau, ka ua nū hele ma ka moana, ka pili ʻana mai hoʻi o ka polohiwa o luna me ka lipolipo o lalo, a ke pā mai ka mālamalama o ka lā i nā pakapaka o ka pōmaikaʻi e koʻiawe mai ana, pāhaʻohaʻo mai ana kekahi kinolau o ua akua nei: ʻōpiʻopiʻo ʻo Lono me he ānuenue lā. I loko o kona mau malama o ka noho pili ʻana mai, ʻo ko ia nei nohea nō ke hoʻopulu mālie i ka honua a hoʻohāinu mai i nā mea kanu a pau a kānaka. Ke ehuehu mai, ʻo ka ʻiliki nō ia a ka ua a hana mao ʻole, huʻe ʻia ka lepo me ka ʻopala, puka i kai, a waiho maʻemaʻe mai ke kahawai a me ka ʻāina. ʻO ke kuʻi ʻana aʻe o ka hekili, ka hā ʻana mai o ka uila, ka ua o kēlā ʻano kēia ʻano, a me ke ānuenue, he mau kinolau kēia no Kāne kekahi, akā nahenahe mai kona mau ʻano a ikaika aʻe hoʻi ko Lono. Ma ke ʻano hoʻohiwahiwa i kona mau nani like ʻole i ʻike ʻia i ka Makahiki, haku akula mākou i kēia hoʻoheno nona, he lau hoʻi e hōʻike mai ana i kekahi o nā ua i ʻike ʻia i kona wā o ke kipa ʻana mai (ʻaʻole naʻe kaupalena ʻia i ka Makahiki): ka ua koko (he ua lawe ānuenue i ʻike nui ʻia ma kai), ka uhiwai (he ua noe e uhi paʻapū ana iā uka), ka ua loku (he ua nui e ʻiliki mai ana, ʻaʻole o kana mai ka ikaika), a me ka ua lele (he ua i hoʻolele wale ʻia aʻe e ka makani ma ke ʻano pāʻaoʻao, a komo kolohe mai ma lalo o ka loulu a i loko hoʻi o ka puka aniani hāmama). Ke ʻike kākou i kona mau kinolau, e aloha aku paha kākou iā ia e like me ko kahiko: E weli aku ana iā ʻoe, e Lono!

A huge squall sits offshore, a dense column of water connecting dark cloud to deep ocean, a mass of falling rain that, when struck by the sun at the right angle, produces a glowing rainbow: ‘Ōpi‘opi‘o ‘o Lono me he ānuenue lā - Lono arches like a rainbow. From steady showers that nourish newly planted ‘uala to heavy downpours, the rains in the winter months are animated by Lono. At Makahiki, this akua moves into the space close to us and begins to drive the weather, while Kāne, with his gentler patterns, takes a sideseat. Both akua are embodied in lightning, thunder, rain and rainbows, but Lono’s manifestations are more intense, especially his rains, which cleanse all that has built up during the time of Kū. This design depicts five rains not limited to, but frequently seen during the four months where Lono rules the weather: ke kualau (ocean squall described above), ka ua koko (a rain often seen over the ocean with a rainbow), ka uhiwai (heavy fog or mist), ka ua loku (heavy downpours), and ka lele ua (windblown rain, or rain that comes sideways). This is our ho‘oheno ua, our visual mele that pays tribute to the many beautiful rains our kūpuna recognized and to Lono’s kinolau (multiple forms) seen in the weather during Makahiki.

Hōlei

I ka honi mua ʻana i ke ʻala huʻihuʻi hoʻohihi wale o ka hōlei, ma laila i kuni paʻa ʻia ai ke aloha no Auwahi i loko o ka naʻau, a he aloha pili paʻa hemo ʻole nō ia. Ake ihola nō e hō aku i ka lei onaona lua ʻole o ka ʻaoʻao kona i ka pūkonakona e kau ai ka maka. ʻIʻini ihola nō hoʻi e mehana ka ʻili i ke kīhei hōlei hiehie i ʻike ʻia ma nā moʻolelo kūpuna. A ʻo ka ʻehaʻeha o loko i ka hiki ʻole ke hoʻokō ʻia aku ia mau moemoeā, no ke kākaʻikahi hoʻi o ua kumu lāʻau nei, ʻo ia kekahi mea hōʻeuʻeu maoli mai e komo aku i loko o ka ʻoihana mālama ʻāina. Hala akula kekahi mau makahiki, kō maila ke au o ka ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi, a ʻike akula nō kā i ke kākaʻikahi o ka poʻe e mālama maoli ana i ka ʻōlelo. He mea hoʻokāhāhā wale ka like o ka pilikia ma nā māhele a ʻelua. ʻO ka mea naʻe e kulu ai ka waimaka a e moe ʻole ai hoʻi ka pō, ʻo ia ka hopena o ka noho kaʻawale ʻana o kākou mai ka ʻāina aku a mai kā ʻōlelo aku—heleleʻi nā mea e ʻike ʻia ai kākou he Hawaiʻi. Wahi a ke Kumulipo, he mau kūpuna nā iʻa, nā lāʻau, a me nā mea ola a pau no kākou. A no laila, ke mālama ʻole kākou i ia mau kūpuna a nalo loa aku kekahi mai ka honua aku, nalo pū nō hoʻi kekahi māhele o ko kākou ʻano Hawaiʻi, kekahi momi o ka hoʻoilina o ko mua. Pehea, e nā Hawaiʻi, e ʻae aku kākou i ka heleleʻi wale aku o nā momi koe o kākou? A i ʻole e paio aku paha, i hiki i nā moʻopuna o kākou ke lei i ka lei hōlei, ʻaʻahu i ke kapa hōlei, a nanea hoʻi i nā mele i haku ʻia no ka hāʻawi ʻana i ia ʻano makana makamae? Me kākou nō ke koho. Me kākou nō ke ola a me ka make.

 

Haleakalā was once encircled by a massive, unbroken lei of forest, according to Biologist Dr. Art Medeiros. An extremely special forest type in that lei, the dryforest, ran from roughly Makawao to Kaupō, about halfway up the mountain, and hōlei was likely a significant species in that forest canopy. Only about 3% of that dryforest remains, but it still contains 50 species of Hawaiian trees, hardwoods used for everything from adze handles to house rafters and much more. Dr. Medeiros calls it “the Ace Hardware of the Hawaiians” because of its immense utilitarian value. He also notes that it’s home to uniquely Hawaiian scents and colors. Hōlei is a perfect example: Its light yellow blossoms look like tiny Plumeria flowers (they’re cousins), but smell sweeter and muskier, and its bark and roots yield a treasured yellow dye for kapa. The four endemic species of hōlei (Ochrosia) used to be common on all the main islands, but O. kilaueaensis is now extinct. The largest populations of O. haleakalae now occur at Auwahi (Maui) and Puʻuwaʻawaʻa (Hawaiʻi). Once considered rare, Art, his team, and many volunteers have planted 1,600 hōlei seedlings into three protected dryforest areas they are restoring in Auwahi, and more will be planted in a fourth area in the coming years. Thanks to their efforts, future kapa makers, lei makers, and their lucky recipients may once again revel in the scent and color of the beautiful hōlei. Go to auwahi.org to learn more about this incredible project. Kaluhea wale kahi pua makaliʻi - A tiny flower with a big fragrance.

Hū Honua

Vi. Ka puka ʻana mai o kekahi mea mai loko mai o ka honua, e laʻa ka pūnāwai a me ka ʻalaea. He aka kēia no ke kipi kūʻē a kānaka. I aliʻi ke aliʻi i ke kanaka. He ʻōlelo kēia mai kahiko mai e hoʻomanaʻo ana iā kākou ē ʻo ke aliʻi mālama i aloha ʻia e kona poʻe kānaka, ʻo ia ke aliʻi e kohu ana i kona kūlana. Koe mai nō nā moʻolelo a me nā mele hoʻohiwahiwa aliʻi e hōʻike mai ana i ke aloha nui o nā kūpuna i nā aliʻi maikaʻi, e laʻa ʻo Māʻilikūkahi, ʻUmialīloa, Kauikeaouli, Liliʻuokalani a me nā aliʻi ʻē aʻe he nui wale. Inā naʻe he hanaʻino ke aliʻi i nā makaʻāinana, he kipi a he hoʻokuke ka hopena. Kalaʻihi akula ʻo Halaʻea i nā lawaiʻa āna, no laila hoʻopihapiha ʻia akula kona waʻa i ka iʻa a komo loa a piholo ihola. Hehi wale aku ʻo Koihala i ke aloha o nā makaʻāinana a hoʻonalo ʻia ihola ʻo ia i loko o ke ahu pōhaku. Ua mau ka ʻimi o ka makaʻāinana i ka pono i ke au aupuni Hawaiʻi. I ka makahiki 1876, haʻiʻōlelo akula ka lunmakaʻāinana o Kona ʻĀkau i mua o ka ʻahaʻōlelo no kona hopohopo i ka māhuahua ʻana aʻe o ka ʻaiʻē o ke aupuni. Wahi āna, "I ʻAhaʻōlelo ka ʻAhaʻōlelo i ka Lāhui, I Kānāwai ke Kānāwai i ka Lāhui, I Aliʻi ke Aliʻi i ke kanaka." E hū honua mau ke kanaka ke pono ʻole ka hana a nā mea o luna.

 

Vi. To come out of the earth as a spring or an outcrop of ʻalaea dirt. Figuratively, to rise in revolt. (Pukui & Elbert). I aliʻi ke aliʻi i ke kanaka. This old saying reminds us that chiefs enjoy their position because of the people. Aliʻi who treated their people well were dearly loved, as seen in the many stories, honorific songs and other acts of aloha by makaʻāinana. Aliʻi who abused their authority, however, were removed by the people. Halaʻea treated his fisherman terribly, so they overloaded his canoe with fish and it sank with him in it. Koihala trampled on the aloha of his people and was disappeared beneath a pile of stones. Holding leaders accountable carries over into the kingdom era. A South Kona representative spoke before the legislature in 1876 on his concerns about the growing kingdom debt. He said, "I ʻAhaʻōlelo ka ʻAhaʻōlelo i ka Lāhui, I Kānāwai ke Kānāwai i ka Lāhui, I Aliʻi ke Aliʻi i ke kanaka" - The Legislature is a Legislature by the People, The Law is the Law by the people, A chief is a chief by the people. The people will always rise up when those in power do not work in their best interest.

Hui Aloha ʻĀina a nā Lede Hawaiʻi

It's December 11, 1897. A massive tent awash in fragrant mountain greenery stands proudly in the yard of Dr. Makapine's house, just Waikīkī side of Washington Place. Elaborately decorated tables boast the best of the islands: lei of maile, lehua and hala, Hilo's finest weaving, and a sumptuous banquet. The leaders of the the Women's Patriotic League (aka Hui Aloha ʻĀina o Nā Wahine Hawaiʻi) attend to the tables and the many guests who have purchased tickets to this benefit feast, one of the Hui's many efforts to raise funds for the Hawaiian delegates who were in Washington DC at that very time, preparing to deliver the anti-annexation petitions for which the Hui had helped to gather signatures. This was how Hawaiians pushed back on both the illegal overthrow of the government in 1893 and the second attempt of the provisional government at an annexation treaty with America in 1897. The 38,000 petition signatures (Hui Aloha ʻĀina and Hui Kālaiʻāina combined) made the wishes of Hawaiians known to America: restore our queen and our government. The sentiment of the Hui was the same in their song "Ka Lei o Ka Lanakila" (chorus shown on this shirt) composed in 1896 for Queen Liliʻuokalani: Forward, O Hawaiian people, let our hearts be as one, that Hawaii may be ever glorious, wearing the garland of victory.

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