By Lehua Lopez
“Hula tells a story.” I was a 4-year-old Kanaka `Oiwi (Native Hawaiian) when I began
my hula training and first heard those words. Coming from a family of ‘olapa hula (hula
dancers), telling stories with my hands is instinctual. But, at 77, the “old stories,” our mo`olelo
kahiko that I dance or recount, no longer feel all that true and complete.
My Kumu Hula, (hula teacher) Kepa Maly, once told his hula students that our Hawaiian
culture is dynamic, that it changes over time because we keep it ‘alive’ through our dancing,
through the new mele (songs) that we create from the influences of different languages, new
technology, and world events. But as much as our culture, hula and mele change, there are
values and a worldview that stay the same—ka `ike pono o na mea Hawai`i—knowledge and
values that are true to the culture.
There’s an old story about Paka`a, a son whose father was a bird catcher, and who fed his
family, including Paka`a, with birds. But Paka`a complained about always having to eat birds so
he took it upon himself to learn to catch fish for the family. He became very successful and was
highly praised for his resourcefulness, as his family feasted on birds AND fish! In this story, the
Hawaiian values of loea (skills, inventiveness), a`apo (learning quickly), and malama `ohana
(caring for family), are emphasized. [1] But the narrative also tells us that the old Hawaiians
sought new ways to cope with situations that were ‘unsatisfactory.’ All of us are now forced to
change to cope with ‘unsatisfactory situations,’ like human-caused climate changes that threaten
our families and decimate non-human species.
All indigenous cultures pass on wisdom, na`auao, from elders, kupuna. They tell their
children how to behave with others, and especially, with (and in) nature; when to plant, build, or
rest; who to help or ally with; where to worship; what is necessary to protect and fight for; and
maybe most importantly, why we need to remember and pass on this wisdom. One of our most
beloved kumu hula, (hula teachers) was the late Kumu John Ka`imikaua, a brilliant, highly
talented, and generous teacher who would tell stories to illustrate the lessons he wanted us to
learn.
Wawahonua`aho, The Wind Gourd of the Goddess Hina
In this old tale, the cave home of the Goddess Hina (who protects the Island of Moloka`i)
is called Pa`oiki, wherein a gigantic gourd, called Wawahonua`aho, contains the powers of three
violent winds. These winds are released by Hina, one by one, as ho`ailona, as a warning for
people to know that they are not ‘pono,’ not ‘right’ with the land or the ocean, that they are
ruining, over-developing, or neglecting to clean and maintain the places they farm, fish, or live
on. The first wind, the Ilinahu, is released when Hina opens Her wind gourd part-way. This
howling wind rushes through the forests, knocking down trees, forcefully flowing through the
lowlands, and sweeping out into the ocean. These winds are ‘signs’ that the people need to do
ho`oponopono with the land, an ancient process, led by elders, asking for forgiveness and
knowledge, that would ‘set to right’ human actions so the land and sea can remain abundant.
But if the people continue their wasteful, greedy, or neglectful actions, Hina will open
Her gourd half-way, and the second wind, the Uluhewa, will emerge with even stronger winds,
coupled with heavy rains, that will batter the island, and cause huge ocean waves to rise and
destroy coastal fishponds teeming with sea life, and ravage the lowlands where the taro crops and
banana fields grow. The Uluhewa wind, however, only destroys property. But if the people do
not heed the first two winds of Hina, She will open her gourd completely and release the final
catastrophic wind, the Luluku. This will be a turbulent, annihilating wind with heavy rains from
all directions coming in with devastating lightning and thunder. This is the wind that takes life!
[2]
But what are these ‘right actions’ that would prevent Hina’s winds? Kumu John told us
about the ancient times when Moloka`i was ruled by a governing `aho, a council of experts,
chosen by the island’s residents, who were highly respected in various fields of knowledge.
These authorities, in specialties like farming, fishing, bird-catching, and herbal medicine, knew
how to maintain the fecundity of the land and the sea. As the ruling council of Moloka`i, they
consulted with each other, respecting each other’s knowledge and experience, and made
decisions about land management and ocean use, the ‘right’ actions, so the people could continue
to process the foods, products, and medicines they needed.
However, as sea rise and climate changes have upended the predictive character of nature
and weather, and as the imposed trauma of cultural/political/social changes in our native
communities continue to isolate us from our old ecological surroundings, our ancient stories have
become anachronistic. We no longer have governing ‘aho, ruling groups of local experts who
can tell us how to live on the land in a ‘pono,’ a ‘right’ way.
It is time to weave new stories! There are now many young Hawaiian experts—marine
scientists, land-use planners, water managers, historians, agricultural specialists—who have the
expertise to ‘right the wrongs,’ the western knowledge (with the spiritual and cultural wisdom
from our elders) to clean up polluted lands, and re-direct development away from contaminating
our natural resources. Our western-educated children have studied the scientific processes of our
earth—like what kind of energy production we should use to reduce pollution, or how to store
and recycle water in urban settings, and where to locate housing that does not damage
ecosystems (even if those houses need to remain small, multi-storied, and incorporate recycled
materials). But they also know our elders’ chronicles that teach our people how to treat one
another and how to honor our ancestors, because young Hawaiians are brought up to listen to
stories, whether they come from kupuna (grandparents/aunties/uncles), or from kumu (teachers).
And our kumu and kupuna are still the primary sources of wisdom!
Your Stories!
So, when the hurricane, tsunami, and/or fire destroys every physical thing you had,
what’s left to keep, nurture, and bequeath to your grandchildren? Tell them the story about
meeting the love of your life, the times you were happy, and how you felt when they were born.
Let them know that ‘nature’ is NOT their enemy or something to ‘overcome,’
but that hubris, vanity, and greed are the attitudes that lead to human and non-human losses. These are our
legacies to the coming generations, the treasures that every generation needs to survive, and
thrive!
Credits: [1] “Recovering Hawaiian Culture Through Children’s Literature,” by Ku`ualoha Meyer,
Literature and Hawai`i’s Children [Journal], 1990 Proceedings, Pg. 184.
[2] “Mo`olelo Malama Pono—the story of Malama Pono,” Chapter 6, from the video, A Mau A Mau, to
continue forever, by Kumu Hula John Ka`imikaua, produced by Nalani Minton and John Ka`imikaua,
2009.
Lehua Lopez, a native Hawaiian cultural anthropologist, was born and raised in Honolulu, Hawai`i, and
graduated with a Bachelor’s degree in human development from the University of Hawai`i (Manoa). She
received her Master’s degree in cultural anthropology, specializing in Hawaiian culture, at the University
of New Mexico (Albuquerque). She has been teaching adults and children the culture and history of
Hawai`i for more than 50 years. Since 2017, she has been living in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where she
considers herself part of the early 21st Century’s Hawaiian economic diaspora. She returns to Hawai`i
Island, and Honolulu, at least once a year, visiting family and friends, and eating poi and fresh fish.
Lehua’s contact info for those who may want to get in touch with her: 88hale@gmail.com
