STUDENT OF THE MONTH
August 2015
Featuring:
Kat Lobendahn “Fineʻeiki (Noble Lady - for Mum)” and
“An Interview with Kat Lobendahn” by Anjoli Roy
University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa
Hawaiʻi Review Staff 2015-2016 Editor-in-Chief Abbey Seth Mayer Managing Editor Chase Wiggins Design Editor Avree Ito-Fujita Poetry Editor Julia Wieting Fiction Editor Kapena Landgraf Creative Non-Fiction Editor Rain Wright FEATURING: KAT LOBENDAHN “FINEʻEIKI (NOBLE LADY - FOR MUM)” WITH “AN INTERVIEW WITH KAT LOBENDAHN” BY ANJLOI ROY Copyright © 2015 by the Board of Publications, University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa
Graphic Novel Editor Scott Kaʻalele Graphic Novel Design Editor Crystel Sundberg-Yannell Contact us at: managing@hawaiireview.org
A Note on the Series
Our Student of the Month series features on our website stellar student writing and visual art from the University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, the institution where our roots dig deep. In print for more than 40 years, our journal has been an established voice in the Pacific and beyond for decades, featuring work from emerging writers alongside literary heavy-weights. The Student of the Month is our latest effort to expand Hawaiʻi Review’s reach by fostering the creative efforts of UH students.
About the Author I’ve been after Kat for a while for the honor of publishing her work. Last year, at a reading with Karlo Mia, I was first introduced to Kat’s poetry. Before then, however, I knew her from her intentional work within our communities to get youth, particularly Pacific youth, back to the land and ocean, underscoring the importance of centering indigenous Pacific knowledges. Kat is a powerful mentor and voyager – across ocean and also, as you will see in her featured poem, across languages. In the pages that follow, you will get a sense of how powerful and beautiful Kat is, herself. The poem, featured lovingly by the new Hawaiʻi Review team, is a tribute to Kat’s beloved mother and is presented in Tongan and in English translation. An interview with Kat follows and illuminates her thought processes about her language choices, the communities she is writing from and to, her deep love for her mother, and, because a lot of folks reading this are likely also writers, Kat’s writing heroes, the writing communities here at UH Mānoa, and tips for other authors. This is Kat’s first published piece. Read it carefully and please share it with your communities.
- Anjoli Roy
Kat Lobendahn was born in Suva, Fiji, and is of Sāmoan, Tongan, Sri Lankan, and European descent. She was raised in Waikīkī since the age of 9. After taking care of her family, she came back to school in the fall of 2011. Currently an undergrad who is double majoring in Ethnic Studies and Anthropology with a focus in maritime archaeology, she is considering a minor in Ethnobotany.
Fineʻeiki (Noble Lady - for Mum) Kat Lobendahn Fineʻeiki, ta nofonofo pe pea ke hola ʻOku ʻikai ke ʻi ai ha ʻaho ʻoku maliu atu ʻA e ʻikai teu taʻe ongoʻi ho mavahe atu Neongo kuo lau taʻu siʻo folau hola Noble Lady, we were here together, then you just left Not a day goes by That I don’t feel the loss of your departure Although, it has been years now since you ran away Siʻo leʻo na, ʻene fanafana mai mei Pulotu ʻAlaha ʻo manongi, ngangatu ʻi hoku mafu Hoʻo ngaahi akonaki, ʻalovili heʻeku manatu Koloa lauʻikuonga, kahoa noʻo loto, tapu ke toʻoa Your voice, how it whispers to me from Pulotu Pleasantly fervent, living fragrance in my heart Your counsels, determined to remain in my memory Eternal gems, noʻo loto (a garland bound to my waist), forbidden to be removed 1
Fineʻeiki (Noble Lady - for Mum)
Fineʻeiki, ʻoku ou mate, mate he ʻofa atu Malingi ʻa loʻi mata, tengihia ʻeku manatu Ki he faʻe ʻofeina, fakatofa e hala keu fou ai Kaliloa neu ʻolunga ai, ko hoku salusalu taʻengata ʻE tala pea ngali, koe kaliloa ne manava ola Noble Lady, oh how I miss you like the dickens Tears flow from my eyes, memories are mournful Such a loving mother, who paved the road for my journey The kaliloa that I have grew upon, my everlasting crown Foretold and revealed, the kaliloa’s breath, is life
2
ROY
An Interview with Kat Lobendahn Anjoli Roy Ajoli Roy (AR): Thank you for sharing this beautiful tribute about your beloved mother, Kat. It is a particularly powerful piece because you offer it to the reader both in Tongan and in English. Could you tell us a bit about your decision to present the poem in both languages? Did you write it in one language first and then translate it into the other? At the time of composition, did you know you would want to present it in both languages? How do the use of both of these languages interact with your audience(s) and a sense of community that you might be providing in your poem? Kat Lobendahn (KL): Thank you, Anjoli, for this great question. I wrote this piece last year for the reading with Karlo Mila. I thought it was a great opportunity to share Tongan poetry on campus, hence my writing this piece in Tongan. Quite honestly, I was not thinking of an audience as far as content. Most of the Tongans I know on campus aren’t that fluent in the Tongan language so I wasn’t even thinking of that, because I knew I would translate it for the benefit of those that did not understand the Tongan language. I just wanted to express what I was feeling at the time for the reading with Karlo. I love writing poetry in Tongan but hate translating it in English, because I find the English language very wanting and lacking depth to do justice to the Tongan language and its many profound metaphors—or what we call heliaki (hidden language). In my opinion, there are Tongan words that are not translatable, because the true essence of the word(s) could and do get lost in translation—and I want to avoid that. There is enough bastardization of our native languages and I don’t want to contribute to that. English just does not cut it for me, and American English for me is the worst for translating an ancient language. Anyway, some of my early Tongan writings that I translated into English were translated in Shakespearean English—only because I wanted to “elevate/upgrade” the English tone of the translation, to give it a more formal or regal, if you will, bearing. I hope that makes sense? 3
AN INTERVIEW WITH KAT LOBENDAHN
AR: It does! Can you say a bit about your history with the languages that you present here? Have you always felt comfortable composing in both languages? KL: Yes, I am comfortable writing in both languages, but I love writing in Tongan and Fijian as well. Growing up, however, I was forbidden to speak Tongan, Fijian, or Sāmoan. My father did not want us children to speak any of the languages native to us. He was born into a very colonial Fiji that was ruled by the British, and having assimilated to European ways, he wanted us to pursue all the colonial aspirations—speak perfect English, learn how to use a typewriter, and write shorthand so we could get that “office job”—because learning our native language, culture, and traditions would not have “qualified” us for “decent jobs” in the future. Anyhow, my father died when I was nine years old, so most of my upbringing from that point on had been predominantly classic Tongan, because my mother was Tongan. My mother was a mix of modern and traditional Tongan—and she carried both roles in a very dignified manner. I remember my late grandmother had some of her ladies over for a faikava (kava session—literally, doing kava) and like most faikava, it is always accompanied with live Tongan music amongst the drinkers. My first exposure to Tongan music was in my grandmother’s kava circle since I was a toddler. My grandmother gave me my first cup of kava when I was three years old, and I have been drinking kava ever since. Anyhow, I loved Tongan music from that early age even though I did not understand much of it, something in me loved it. One day I was listening to some old Tongan music on a cassette tape when I was about eleven or twelve years old, and my mother said, “Isa (álas), I remember when the Queen wrote that . . .” or “we were at Kauvai (royal residence) when HM composed that . . .” or “the Queen wrote this for/about . . .” and she would proceed to tell me stories behind some of the compositions of Her Majesty, the late Queen Sālote Tupou III of Tonga. She would explain the metaphors, history, and 4
ROY
KL (CONT’D): noble or oratory language used in the Queen’s music. And from that day forward I fell in love with the Tongan language all the more because I could understand it better and appreciate its richness. Queen Sālote was an amazing poet and composer, and many of Tonga’s top orators and bards have praised her work in their own compositions. I also love what is known as “faikava music,” sometimes referred to also as “hiva hanu” (literal, whining song(s)), which were basically hopelessly romantic love songs composed by contemporary Tongans, and being a hopeless romantic in my youth I ate those songs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner—ha! My mother told me that a lot of contemporary Tongan music was forbidden by Queen Sālote during her reign because some of the words they used were reserved only for members of the royal family or the chiefly class, and yet, these composers were using regal language in their compositions towards the object of their heart’s desire. But, yeah, basically my history with the Tongan language is that I taught myself through Tongan music, and my mother later helped me understand a lot of what I was listening to. For many years I sang Tongan songs but did not understand what I was singing, which was like how I sang and performed Hawaiian music since my younger days. I had no idea what I was singing about apart from the obvious, but when I learned ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi, I understood more. Music is a great teacher of language, for me anyway. AR: I appreciate how you have included some Tongan words in the primarily English stanzas, including Pulotu, kaliloa, and noʻo loto (though the latter is offered next to a parenthetical translation). Could you tell us about your decision to keep these particular words untranslated? Did you decide upon these words because you want uninitiated readers to seek out definitions on their own, or experience the outsider positioning that these words offer them? Or, in recognizing how languages offer embedded worldviews and cultural contexts, are these words examples of what is not translatable into English, as you mention above? 5
AN INTERVIEW WITH KAT LOBENDAHN
KL: Thank you, Anjoli. I purposely left those words in Tongan because there is no English translation, and I would not attempt to rob those words of their mana by translating them into the English language. They are ancient words that existed thousands of years before English language. Whilst I can give an English explanation of those words, as I did briefly of “noʻo loto,” I would not in good conscience translate those words into simple English without providing a larger explanation. I have too much respect for my language to slaughter and abuse it that way. I can offer the following explanations, though these are not full translations in any sense: • Pulotu: the proverbial Tongan underworld/paradise. In Tongan tradition, this is where the souls of the Tongan chiefly class go to after death. And thinking of my mother’s heritage I felt it appropriate to use this word for her. I have also heard that it is also our ancestral home, much older that Hawaiki—when Polynesia was mostly concentrated in Western Polynesia with very close ties to Fiji. It is one and the same as the Fijian Burotu. If we think of the ancient migrations, our ancestors came first to Tonga from Fiji. I heard one legend that said the early Tongans came from Matuku Island in the Lau Group in Fiji. Anyway, Pulotu is paradise, or heaven in traditional Tongan times. • Kaliloa: the kali is a wooden headrest, and the kaliloa is a large headrest that symbolizes a mothers arms. My use of the kaliloa in this poem is referencing the proverbial Tongan metaphor for my mother’s loving and nurturing arms. In her arms, since infancy, is where I received instructions, and learned everything I needed to learn about life, my genealogy, leadership, what my kinship ties are to various factions of my family or clan, and hierarchy of Tongan society as a whole. A child or person’s behavior, whether good or bad, is either a credit or a discredit to their kaliloa (mother). 6
ROY
KL (CONT’D): When a person behaves rudely, it is often said, “It is because he/she did not lay on the kaliloa,” or other rude remarks would be made about one’s kaliloa. In other words, this person did not have a good or proper Tongan upbringing, which is basically an insult to one’s mother. I remember once my mother chastised me about something when I was a teenager, and these were her precise words to me, “Behave as if you were brought up and not dragged up. Everything you do is a reflection of me. It is not you that will be whispered (gossiped) about, but me.” The kaliloa is a powerful reference to one’s mother in Tongan culture. • Noʻo loto: noʻo is to tie or bind, and loto in this context means deep, within. In that verse of the poem, the gems (words/teachings) of my mother are bound deep within my being. I briefly translated it as a garland (lei) bound to my waist. Why would a lei be bound to my waist and not around my neck, you must be thinking? Because that locality of the body is your core, where your intuition and affections reside—the Hawaiians call it your naʻau—that’s the true meaning of that line in my poem. An enormous part of who I am is attributed to the life-giving lessons learnt from my mother, and they are bound in my naʻau. The lei bound to the waist is tapu (forbidden) to be removed because that is where the nurturing of my soul comes from; to remove it would be to disconnect me from my heritage and cultural identity. I was very close to my mother, and I wanted to honor her in poetry. I have written several poems for her, as I have for other members of my family—but this one is more along the lines of a lament. I initially thought it was too short, but after reading it several times, I was content that it was just as it should be. To understand it in the Tongan context is a thousand times deeper than the English translation. AR: Your poem offers in more than one instance heartfelt language around the loss of your mother as a departure and a journey. I wonder if you might make a connection for us about your 7
AN INTERVIEW WITH KAT LOBENDAHN
AL (CONT’D): work as a voyager, and what it means to making crossings (be it across water or language) to our loved ones. How is your poem both a reclamation of mother tongue(s) as the reader is simultaneously invited to mourn alongside you the loss of loved ones? KL: Thank you for this question, Anjoli. In ancient and traditional Tongan times, our ancestors were known as masters of the Moana (Pacific Ocean). Being a crewmember and Tongan cultural rep on the Mālama Honua Worldwide Voyage aboard Hikianalia (sister canoe to Hōkūleʻa) on the Sāmoa-to-Tonga leg has been one of the most epic experiences of my life to date. Once I knew that Hōkūleʻa and Hikianalia would be making stops in Tonga en route to Aotearoa, I worked towards doing what I needed to do to make crew on that leg. This was very important to me, because for many years I had wanted to write my mother’s story, or do something significant as a way to honor her memory. So when the voyage came up, it was a no-brainer to me: I had to earn my way on that leg. Prior to the voyage, I made a trip to Tonga to set up port logistics, etc. I was very humbled by the warm reception I received whilst in Tonga—and I clearly saw how the grounding I received at the kaliloa was beginning to bear good fruit in this endeavor. During our crew trainings, I had the opportunity to share Tongan customs, protocols, and language with the crew to prepare them for Tonga. I was fortunate to have the help of another Tongan crewmember, Kalisi Faʻanunu, who is originally from Vavaʻu, Tonga. Together, we were able to prepare the crew for their Tonga experience. As we sailed from Tutuila, American Sāmoa, to Vavaʻu, Tonga, I was very humbled to be honoring my mother and grandmother in an unprecedented way. I mean, no one in my family or extended family has ever done anything like this, not in modern times. When the possibility and opportunity arose to pursue crewing this voyage, there was no question in my mind that I had to do 8
ROY
KL (CONT’D): it. I did not think of the risks and dangers at sea. All I knew was I had to do what it took to make crew on this voyage. And by God’s will I got to fulfill that deep desire to honor the memory of my beloved mother and grandmother in an epic way, pulling their beloved Tonga out of the ocean on a traditional voyaging canoe, just like our ancestors did for thousands of years. During the sail between Tutuila and Vavaʻu, and Vavaʻu and Tongatapu, there were moments when I sat alone gazing at the stars above and thinking that these were the very same stars my ancestors navigated by. There were also moments when I felt my mother and grandmother’s presence with me on the canoe. So much of it seemed surreal, but they are experiences that will live with me all the days of my life. So, yes, as a voyager in the Pacific sense, you are a bridge, between the past, the present, and the future. You nurture and maintain ancient kinship ties, you connect and build community. Our crew was well received in Tonga, and many Tongan’s were surprised that the crewmembers knew Tongan phrases and sentences. They were very impressed with the crew often using the word “tulou” and bending as they walked past someone that is seated, or to excuse or pardon themselves. It’s important Tongan social etiquette to do that; again, it is something that is learned at the kaliloa. All the crew had such a blast in Tonga and many expressed how they had no idea that Tonga was rich in its culture, and many vowed to return to Tonga. For me, that is mission accomplished. The crossing was on several levels, and most definitely, the Tongan language played an enormous role on the entire journey. Also, whilst I was in Tonga both times, I was interviewed by the local radio and television stations, and it was all conducted in the Tongan language. In terms of the connection between voyaging—across the Moana and in creative writing—to connect to our ancestors, in my experience, creative writing and voyaging complement each other. When I was at sea, there was so much wonder and beauty to write about. There were trials and tribulations to write about. And if you were brave enough, you dared to write about your fears 9
AN INTERVIEW WITH KAT LOBENDAHN
KL (CONT’D): and challenges. There is so much to write about on a voyage out in the open ocean, so much. I was happy that we were encouraged to keep a daily journal. You know what they say: “Better to trust a short pencil than a long memory.” When I read and reflect upon the poetry and thoughts I had written about on my voyage, I re-live the dream, and it makes my heart full and it inspires me to write more, and to make the connection between the two because there is a connection. If you pay attention, the connection is staring you right in the face. It’s like getting a revelation about something, and you’re like, wow! Just wow! Also, there are some experiences, especially spiritual ones that I am still struggling to this day to articulate on paper—and maybe it is meant to just be left alone in my naʻau to preserve the sanctity of that experience. AR: Thank you, Kat. In regards to that short pencil, can you speak a bit about your writing practice? Who are your writing heroes? How did you first get into creative writing? What are you currently working on? KL: As for writing practice, I did not have any kind of formal training in that. I started writing music since I was about 13 years old. And over the years, I just randomly jotted down what came to mind, or responses to what I had been pondering, hopelessly romantic love songs, poems, etc. Writing heroes? Hands down, Queen Sālote is my most favorite writer. I am greatly influenced and inspired by HM. There are quite a few Pacific writers. I won’t name names because I don’t want to leave anyone out, as some are my friends and relatives. But for non-Pacific writers, I love Indu Sundaresan’s historical fiction for light reading. I also love Jean Sasson’s work. Jean is a friend. As I mentioned, I just started writing—first composing lyrics then put music to it—then as I matured, I started to write more critically, but I never thought of it as creative writing. Currently, I am going through all my books on Tonga, researching Tongan navigation, as well as 10
ROY
KL (CONT’D): traditional Tongan medicinal herbs, and ancient Tongan tā tatau (tattoo)—how these will be connected is still a mystery. AR: What does it mean to you to be a member of the creative writer community at UHM? KL: I am flattered that you consider me a member of the creative writer community at UHM, because I did not consider myself that. I just always thought of myself as a supporter and admirer of all you fine writers and activists at UHM. I just “freeload” on all the beautiful work you guys put out. This community means a lot to me because I am always inspired and learning much from you all. AR: I understand that this is your first experience of offering your work for publication. What has helped you to push forward to this next step, of sharing your work with the world? What has helped to prepare you for this step? What is your advice to would-be writers out there who haven’t pushed forward to this next step? KL: Thank you, Anjoli. You are right: This is my first submission for publication. You know, I have had friends and even my professors encourage me to publish some of my stories or writings, but I never wrote for that purpose. I just wrote as a means of expression and to escape certain realities. Truth be known, what has pushed me to take this next step is you, Anjoli. I remember you asking me a couple of years ago and I just let it slip my mind. The last reading you hosted inspired me to submit something—because I admire the work you do/did with HR, and because I trust you. Advice I have for would-be writers out there is, don’t be so hard on yourself. Your work will speak to, or inspire someone, and it might even help them out of a dark hole. If you have the gift 11
AN INTERVIEW WITH KAT LOBENDAHN
KL (CONT’D): of writing, don’t procrastinate like I have. You only miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take. Just go for it! If you think your writing is crap, that’s okay, there’s a lot of crappy writer’s out there—so what, just take the plunge. AR: That is solid advice! Finally, could you give us a short bio, including your accomplishments at UHM? KL: Sure. How’s this? Kat Lobendahn was born in Suva, Fiji, and is of Sāmoan, Tongan, Sri Lankan, and European descent. She was raised in Waikīkī since the age of 9. After taking care of her family, she came back to school in the fall of 2011. Currently an undergrad who is double majoring in Ethnic Studies and Anthropology with a focus in maritime archaeology, she is considering a minor in Ethnobotany. Accomplishments at UHM? I managed to succeed at stressing really well. Mahalo, Anjoli. AR: Thank you so much, Kat.
10
This Could Be ...
If you are student and would like to feature your work in Student of the Month or an instructor for a creative writing course would like to submit exemplary University of Hawaiʻi student work to Hawaiʻi Review’s Student of the Month initiative, please send submissions to our Submittable account at bit.ly/submit2HR
Featured Calls Graphic Novel Illustrators + Storyboard Artists: Hawaiʻi Review is adapting
the legend of Koolau into a graphic novel that will be published as a special edition. We are looking for artists that want to work with us to recrerate this true Hawaiian legend. We will design storyboards and full illustrations based on multiple sources, including the original Hawaiian language newspaper articles that chronicled the attempted capture of Koolau and his family after he contracted leprosy in 1893 on the island of Kauaʻi. Deadline: September 30, 2015
Reviews: We invite you to submit “a review,” however creatively you might define that, of a forthcoming or recently published work or a recent literary event. We are interested in casting our net into literary scenes beyond Hawai‘i, but we give special preference to reviews of literary works or events from Hawai‘i. Deadline: Ongoing
Visit bit.ly/submit2HR for more details.
http://www.hawaiireview.org/
https://www.facebook.com/hawaii.review.journal
https://twitter.com/Hawaii_Review
https://instagram.com/hawaii_review/