Auwē Ke Ola ē

Na Kumu Keala Ching

Lu‘ulu‘u ka maka o ka ‘Ōpua Uē ka ua kani Lehua Uē ka ua pulu ‘ole ka ‘āina Uē ke ola o Ke Ola ē Auwē, Auwē ke ola ē

I ka ‘o ‘Ōneo Kupu maila ke kupukupu Wili ‘ia ka lei ola He lei palena‘ole Ke Ola Auwē, Auwē ke ola ē

Kulu ka waimaka ola Uē ka ua kapakapa Uē ka ua hā‘ao Li‘u ka ua hā‘ao ala Auwē, Auwē ke ola ē

Lu‘u ka wai kōloa ala Pā anuanu kō Waiki‘i Puka maila ke Aloha Auwē Ke Ola, he pā ‘umi Auwē, Auwē ke ola ē

Lu‘ulu‘u ka maka o ka ‘Ōpua Uē ka ua Hawai‘i nei Pā aheahe ka makani ola Uē ke ola o Ke Ola ē Auwē, Auwē ke ola ē

Sadden the eyes of the ‘Ōpua cloud Rain upon the Lehua Light rains of Kona Recognized life of Ke Ola Sorrow, Sorrow the life indeed

On the sea sprays of ‘Ōneo Sprout the beginnings Woven into a living child A child is a never forgotten lei Celebrate, Celebrate the life indeed

Forever tears of life Rains of Hilo Rains of Ka‘ū Hā‘ao rain pauses Enlighten, Enlighten the life indeed

Surrender waters of Waikōloa Cold winds of Waiki‘i Unconditional love always Rejoice the 10th year of Ke Ola Rejoice, Rejoice the life indeed

Bowed down the eyes of the ‘Ōpua Rain upon Hawai‘i Gentle winds of life Recognized the life of Ke Ola Sadden, Sadden the life indeed

He oli Kanikau iā Ke Ola. Ua no‘i ‘o Barbara Garcia lāua ‘o Karen Valentine ia‘u e kōkua iā Ke Ola. Ua launa ma ‘Ōneo ā hiki ke pau i ka hana o ia mau wahine. He uē o ia mau makahiki ā hiki ke ola o Ke Ola ma hope o kēia kani pau. E ola, e ola, he mahalo nō!

A lamentation chant for Ke Ola. Barbara and Karen asked me to be a part of Ke Ola. We met at ‘Ōneo, Kona and now the completion of services by Barbara. This chant honors the life of services until the new life of Ke Ola. Let it live, Let it live, Gratitude Always!

Makahiki at Mälamalama

By Stefan Verbano

Students at Mālamalama Waldorf

School in Kea‘au will ring in the Makahiki season a little differently this year. Gone will be the crowds of spectators, the buffet tables groaning under the weight of steaming pots of taro and breadfruit, and the raucous spectacle of the

school’s annual game of hukihuki—Hawaiian tug-of-war—which have all become fixtures of the ancient harvest celebration akin to Thanksgiving held every November at Mālamalama’s 26-acre campus in Hawaiian Paradise Park. Like tug-of-war, many of the other games closely associated with Makahiki have been cut from the school’s program, too: wrestling matches, foot races, spear sliding competitions, and ulu maika—a game resembling American bowling where players try to roll disc-shaped stones between stakes set in the ground. Planners had to make dramatic changes to the typical festivities this year due to coronavirus restrictions, choosing to go a similar route as 2020’s scaled-down version. With so many of the usual “Makahiki Games” out, Mālamalama’s celebration now focuses on the one event that will remain largely unchanged this year: a part of the school’s Makahiki tradition that honors a living cultural heritage connecting modern Hawai‘i back through the ages to its ancient past. It is this ancestral connection that the school’s Hawaiian studies teacher Mahina Peleiholani BlankenfeldKaheiki hopes her students will experience firsthand during what she calls “the ceremony.” It starts with a three-tiered raised platform built by the 8th

grade class from natural materials they harvested themselves from school grounds in the weeks leading up to the big day. Fashioned from bamboo poles and strawberry guava branches, lashed together with rope, this is known in Hawaiian as the Nu‘u Tower, its three levels representing the akua (gods), the ali‘i (chiefs) and the maka‘āinana (common people). The classes gather outside on the school’s expansive lawn. The students’ hands are full. While their peers stand close by reciting over and over the oli lei, a traditional Hawaiian chant used while making offerings, each classmate takes their turn at approaching the tower and laying on its bamboo

With clear skies overhead, the Akua Loa stands in reverence overlooking the Nuÿu Tower and the rest of Mälamalama Waldorf's campus after the end of 2020's Makahiki ceremony. The 8th Grade class built both structures themselves out of locally foraged materials like bamboo and strawberry guava branches, and will do so again this year.

photo courtesy of Mahina P. Blankenfeld-Kaheiki

shelves whatever gifts they have brought for Lono, the ancient Hawaiian fertility god around which all of Makahiki revolves. Chanting only stops when the final student has added their contribution to the shelves, which by then are overflowing with lei, ornamental ginger, hibiscus flowers, breadfruit leaves, papayas, pineapples, ti leaves, and citrus fruit. The Nu‘u Tower is left standing for the whole four-month season, and then finally disassembled and buried along with all of its weathered offerings in a sacred spot on the school’s grounds. The meaning behind this simple act of placing offerings on the tower drives the entire celebration, Mahina says, and is

deeply rooted in the Hawaiian tradition of ho‘okupu. This is why, even after so many other beloved events were cut from this year’s roster, the ceremony simply had to proceed. “Itʻs about gratitude,” she says. “Ho‘okupu is our main word for ‘offering.’ For us as a people, Makahiki is the time when we give our best. Traditionally, that meant whatever you specialized in: a weaver would give their best mat, made from the best materials they had. A fisherman would give their best fish; a farmer would give their best crops. They’d do it to give reverence and to honor Lono for giving us such a rich harvest for the season, for helping us with our productivity and making our land rich and fertile.”

The Akua Loa

The other main component of the ceremony that festival planners like Mahina deemed crucial for the students to experience this year is the procession of the akua loa. This is when pupils in the eldest class parade around the school carrying a long pole draped in white cloth known as the “image of Lono” which, like the Nu‘u Tower, they build themselves out of local materials prior to the ceremony. In the age of ancient Hawai‘i Island, priests would carry the akua loa in a clockwise rotation around the island, ushering in the Makahiki season and collecting ho‘okupu in each community they visited. This effigy of Lono even has a peculiar connection to the history of European contact with ancient Hawaiians. Captain James Cook happened to arrive at Kealakekua Bay on Hawai‘i Island’s Kona Coast near a large heiau (temple) to Lono during the Makahiki season of 1778, and went on to make the first recorded European contact with the Hawaiian people. Some stories say the sails and masts of Cook’s ship resembled Lono’s akua loa enough that, along with these other coincidences, many were convinced that Cook was an incarnation of Lono. Traditionally, the akua loa would be made of wood from native trees like ‘ōhi‘a and adorned with white kapa cloth made from the beaten inner bark of select trees and shrubs. Known as “tapa” elsewhere in Polynesia, this material has been an essential element of Hawaiian textiles throughout its history. But real kapa—and ‘ōhi‘a poles for that matter—isn’t easy to come by these days, so the school improvises with what it has on hand. “What we have isn’t made of traditional materials since it requires resources not available to us, so we use modern resources to represent both,” Mahina says. Many aspects of Mālamalama’s Makahiki celebration seem to take place at this crossroads of ancient and modern. The Hawaiian studies kumu (teacher) admits that harvesting

Mälamalama students participate in the game uma, or hand wrestling, during the 2018 Makahiki events. Each takes a turn in trying to force their opponent's hand to the mat.

photo courtesy of Kelley Lacks

strawberry guava branches to construct the Nu‘u Tower is a deviation from tradition, which, like the akua loa, would have called for using branches from native trees rather than the emigrant guava, which some Hawai‘i conservationists consider to be the “most invasive plant” in the state. But, the wise teacher explains, opting to use the guava wood presents an important opportunity for the students to learn a lesson about ecology in Hawai‘i today. “I try to teach my students about the importance of managing our resources and the difference in what our forests were pre-contact to what they look like today,” she says.

Students from Mälamalama Waldorf and Mt. View Elementary Schools join in a traditional Makahiki game called ÿihe paheÿe during the 2018 celebrations. The goal is to slide the spear over the grass and between two stakes set in the ground 20 feet away.

Standing besides the Nuÿu Tower is Mahina Peleiholani Blankenfeld-Kaheiki, the Hawaiian Studies Kumu (teacher) at Mälamalama Waldorf School. Placed upon the tower are hoÿokupu (offerings) from every student from Kindergarten to 8th Grade as they participated in their annual Makahiki ceremony in 2020.

photo courtesy of Mahina P. Blankenfeld-Kaheiki

“We know the introduction of invasive species has heavily impacted our native forests, so in order to teach them about preservation, we agreed to use readily available invasive species to help manage their population and to actually utilize them.”

Makahiki of Old

This year, Makahiki festivities will last only one day at the school, and even during normal seasons the school’s events would typically only be one week long. Compare this with the four consecutive months ancient Hawaiians would spend celebrating: from late-October/early-November (as determined by the moon’s cycles), through February or March, making the revelry more a phase of the year rather than a solitary occasion. During Makahiki, work was prohibited and there were days upon days of feasting, hula performances, dancing, chanting, visiting of relatives, and sporting competitions where wagers would be placed on local champions. All warfare was

The 7th and 8th Grade classes surround the Nuÿu Tower after giving their hoÿokupu. Since this is their last Mälamalama makahiki celebration together, the class took a moment to honor the

season. photo courtesy of Kelley Lacks

forbidden. The other eight months of the year were spent under the auspices and rituals of the god Kū, one of the four principal gods in Hawaiian mythology—the other three being Lono, Kāne, and Kanaloa. The Pleiades star cluster appearing in the night sky marks the transition from the season of Kū to the season of Makahiki. In Hawaiian, the Pleiades are known as Makali‘i, and it’s from the term Makali‘i hiki, or “rising of the Pleiades,” that the season derives its name. By pure coincidence, it occurs in mid to late November near the similarly harvest-oriented US holiday of Thanksgiving, prompting some to call Makahiki the “Hawaiian Thanksgiving,” although history contends that the celebration of Makahiki predates the advent of Thanksgiving by many centuries. For a school like Mālamalama Waldorf that specializes in place-based education, teaching its students all these hidden meanings through the celebration of a holiday like Makahiki is crucial to their understanding and appreciation of the cultural context of where they live. “It’s to pay homage to a place, to a time in our history,” Mahina says. “Makahiki is about peace, prosperity, celebrating the harvest, celebrating our relationships, and celebrating everything we are doing in school, in our homes, in our community.” When asked about how the traditional Hawaiian ethos of mālama ‘āina (caring for the land) plays into Mālamalamaʻs conception of Makahiki, Mahina says the school’s name pretty much sums it up. “Mālamalama means ‘shining with knowledge,’” she says. “If you are shining with knowledge and you are a child of this land and you go to this school, then it’s your job to mālama this ‘āina,” she says. “Mālama ‘āina isn’t only about taking care of something physical like the land itself, but the ‘āina can be something that feeds you spiritually or feeds you mentally: taking care of your parents because they raised you, taking care of your spiritual needs, taking care of everything that helps you develop as a person.” ■

For more information: hawaiiwaldorf.org

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Meet Bernie Waltjen

By Carole J. Gariepy

It’s a special treat when a snowbird from Massachusetts has an opportunity to hear the life story from a native Hawaiian who has many skills, diverse experiences, and a rich Hawaiian history. When I stopped in front of a neighboring house that had an assortment of fruit out front with a FREE sign, I deliberated whether they were meant for residents or if I, a visitor, would be welcome to take something. Then a voice called out, “Help yourself!” That’s how I met Bernie. I’ve chatted with him several times since, and realize he has a story that needs to be told. Bernie was born in 1941 in Hawai‘i National Park, the park’s name when Hawai‘i was a US territory. After it became a state, the park became one of America’s national parks and was renamed Hawai‘i Volcanoes National Park. The park is Bernie’s heritage. His native Hawaiian mother, Harriet Hauanio, was also born in the park where her father, John, was a caretaker. Employees lived in small cottages near the entrance where the park offices are now. Bernie’s father, Bernard Waltjen, came to Hilo from Germany at the start of World War II. His family had sent him there temporarily to be safe, but Bernard remained on the island afterward. He married Harriet and obtained a maintenance job at the park, and also a place to live. Bernie remembers riding through the park every evening with his father (who was the park warden by then) to check that everything was secure and safe during the war years. The bombing at Pearl Harbor was imprinted in people’s minds. He said the headlights were covered so they wouldn’t be seen, only a two-inch opening was allowed to dimly light the roads. He sat close to the windshield to help his father keep watch. Tourism to the park was high after the war. The only airport on the island at that time was in Hilo. Visitors to Kona were transported from Hilo by limousine, a long slow ride over a narrow winding road. A stop along the way to have a meal at Volcano House and to see the volcano erupting offered a delightful and much-needed break. Bernie said the crater was much smaller then, and it was active. “Watching it was like going to a big drive-in movie,” he recalls. In 1951, the cottages were turned over to park rangers, meaning the maintenance workers had to leave. Bernie and his family moved to the Hilo area where he experienced another dramatic piece of Hawaiian history, the 1960 tsunami. There had been seismic indications and warnings about a possible tsunami for a month, then reports came from Chile about an earthquake causing serious damage. Hawai‘i was warned that it was expected to arrive around midnight. Later, further reporting came in that no significant waves had hit other islands along the path to Hawai‘i Island, so most people didn’t take the previous warnings seriously. Bernie and his friends were part of that group. He laughs as he remembers, “We had more guts than brains.” Bernie and his friends parked his car across the street from the Wailoa River around midnight and they went down to the waterfront to see if anything was happening. First, they saw fish scattered on the beach—huge fish—and the water had receded. That was very unusual, it wasn’t a good sign. Then a policeman beckoned them to come help tie a boat to a dock by the Wailoa Bridge as the strong suction of the retreating waves was pulling boats out to sea. Together they tugged it in and tied it well. The real danger of the situation came when they saw a gigantic wave in the distance. Bernie said, “The foaming wave was higher than a telephone pole. We ran faster than we could ever imagine we could run. We flew. I didn’t turn around. It sounded like 10 bulldozers were knocking down

the buildings behind me. Then an explosion and sparks filled the sky. The power plant had been hit; everything went black. We barely made it. People behind me died and some were my good friends. The Omega brothers who lived in the Japanese village didn’t make it. Sixty-one people perished that evening. I still hear the sound today when a big wave comes in when I’m at the beach. My memory bank tells me to leave.”

A magazine about the 1960 tsunami. Bernie is third from the left, helping to secure the boat.

Bernie went back the next day to look for his car. He found it crushed into pieces beneath an apartment building. The securely tied boat was found destroyed along with cars and other debris in a pile by the Civic Center. Bernie’s story and that of other survivors is preserved in the Pacific Tsunami Museum in Hilo. After graduating from Hilo High School, Bernie had several jobs. Like his father and grandfather, he could do most everything—he was a jack of all trades. He worked on construction for the Hilo Company, did maintenance at the Volcano House, operated heavy equipment for the Hawaiian Sugar Company, grafted macadamia nut seedlings for C. Brewer & Company—and then love beckoned him. His Hawaiian sweetheart, Grace Ortega, went to college in Los Angeles. Bernie followed Grace, they got married, and lived in Los Angeles from 1970 to 2000. While in Los Angeles, he

Tiki chess pieces.

worked for Weber Aircraft and built the bathroom units for the Boeing 747, and later for the 757, 756, and 777. During that period, Bernie had an opportunity to develop his artistic skills. The structural foam he worked with was as hard as wood. He started experimenting with sculpting the discarded pieces and became skilled in carving interesting figures and designs with the unique material. The many ribbons he won in art competitions in Los Angeles show how greatly his skill was recognized. His Hawaiian heritage is evident in many of the designs, such as the tiki figures, and a tiki chess set. These figures will eventually be gifted to a cultural center. Like many whose native land beckons them as they grow older, he and his wife returned to Hawai‘i and settled in Nā‘ālehu in 2000. The stop at Bernie’s fruit stand sure opened my eyes to an interesting life and part of Hawaiian history. Thank you, Bernie. ■

All photos courtesy of Carole J. Gariepy KeOlaMagazine.com | November-December 2021

19

Traditional Hawaiian Lomilomi

is Alive and Well

By Nancy S. Kahalewai, LMT

It wasn’t too long after the return of the inaugural Hōkūle‘a voyage, and wave of cultural pride in its aftermath, that Hawaiian lomilomi massage also experienced its own resurgence.

Hōkūle‘a navigated the Polynesian triangle, sailing to and from Tahiti in 1976. Immediately, the excitement and historical significance of this voyage was deeply felt across the Hawaiian Islands, and throughout Polynesia. It accelerated a liberating chapter that opened doors for genuine reconnection and deeper appreciation of ancestral knowledge, such as the Hawaiian language, sustainable lifestyle practices, and healing arts, including traditional lā‘au lapa‘au (plant medicines), ho‘oponopono (making things right), and lomilomi massage. Before this, people didn’t speak about lomilomi massage, nor was it ever advertised as a service. Lomilomi subtly existed in small family contexts, or perhaps was recognized as a special gift that a certain ‘uncle’ or ‘tutu’ had. Often it was a fading memory of a practice by a past relative, or a casual occurrence in the home or community, where one naturally massages body parts needing movement, soothing touch, or energy. Calming a baby with colic, assisting someone with indigestion or constipation, treating an injury, turning a breeched baby, or helping sore muscles after exertion—it was an everyday part of life to address these situations with skillful hands-on touch. The true history of the art and science of lomilomi take us much further back, and this knowledge included more than physical massage techniques. Lomilomi includes a tool chest of compressions, stretches, kneading, percussions, squeezing, and soothing strokes, as well as enhancing treatments with plants, herbs, salt, heat, ‘ili ‘ili stones, lomi sticks, and saltwater. For many centuries, traditions about Hawaiian healing practices were kept alive in narrative stories and genealogical chants. Two large classifications of practitioners were the kāhuna lā‘au lapa‘au, who used plants and medicinal materials in their practice, and the kāhuna hāhā, known as the diagnosticians, who excelled in the skills of touch. There are legends of traditional healers who could “breathe mana into the bones” to heal fractures, and the kāhuna kahea who could heal others from great distances. According to Dr. Maka‘ala Yates, author of Na‘auao Ola Hawaii–Hawaiian Principles and Practices of Being Well, the concept of “communicating down to the bones physically and energetically is significant…It is at the bone level that all memory is stored from past traumas, injuries or emotional links. As with many indigenous cultures, the bones are the most important and protected part of the physical structure…Tapping into the bones allows the Lomilomi practitioner to communicate on a soul level so healing can take place.”

Lomilomi History

In the 1700s and 1800s, there was a registrar of healing practitioners. The Territory of Hawai‘i passed legislation to have traditional practitioners licensed in 1917, which continued with the Department of Health in later years. Prior to World War II, permits were required to dispense traditional herbal medicines, and many native practitioners also received formal training in pharmacy, naturopathy, surgery, and other Western

medical specialties. In 1946, Elias Liko Jones, Kahuna Lapa‘au Lau Lā‘au o Hawai‘i Nei, explained his healing technique that he did “from the heart, not the pocketbook.” He “cured” simply by herbs (to clean out and tone the system), a semifast of fruit juices and water to rest the organs, then massage (to introduce and stimulate the patient’s vital energy), and patience. These and other stories can be found in KAHUNA Traditions of Hawaiian Medicinal Priests and Healing Practitioners, by Malcolm Naea Chun, PhD. Gradually, local traditional practices were pushed out with government regulation, while the Hawaiian lifestyle and language were also suppressed. Eventually statehood was passed, and the Department of Health, under the Department of Commerce and Consumer Affair’s Division of Private Vocational Licensing, began issuing licenses for massage. Meanwhile, the old kāhuna skills were forbidden. By the 1960s, “hippies” were flocking to Hawai‘i. In South Kona, they found an amazing Hawaiian woman, fondly remembered as “Aunty Margaret” Machado, with amazing healing skills. She soon gained wide recognition for helping people, using the power of akua (God), deep intuitive perception skills, and her famous saltwater colon cleanses. Unlike most native practitioners, Aunty Margaret was also a state licensed massage therapist. With her nursing background, she passed the Hawai‘i massage exam, which allowed her to legally teach and train apprentices. She had a unique healing gift, passed down from her grandfather, enabling her to “see” deep into the patient’s energetic and spiritual patterns. Doctors would send her their patients who had not responded to anything in their medical skillset. People near and far would travel to her for help, disclosing their journey of suffering and medical history. She would listen deeply, smile, and then reply with something seemingly

Daniel Albers, LMT, demonstrates forearm lomi kupele (kneading) on the quadriceps.

photo courtesy of Nancy Kahalewai

Matanuku using gentle lomi mirimiri on the ÿöpü. photo courtesy of Nancy Kahalewai

unrelated, such as, “You need to forgive your uncle!” She was amazingly accurate and in this way, she gained respect and achieved noteworthy results. Meanwhile, on the east side of Hawai‘i Island, other local healers were in the making. Hilo’s Mary Fragus became a selftrained specialist in lomilomi, as well as prenatal massage. She had contracted polio as a child, thus worked on a floor mat, and would put expectant mothers “on all fours’” to gently lomi the abdomen. She was never state licensed, but her pure spirit and expert skills were renowned within the community. By the late 20th century, lomilomi was making its way into spas, clinics, and international circles. The fascination of Polynesia and the thirst for traditional indigenous knowledge were at unprecedented levels of appreciation. Part of this was because of a shift from kapu (restrictions) put in place for protection of sacred knowledge, as well as the cultural suppression following colonization. The grassroots desire for knowledge, self-awareness, healing concepts, and a wholistic understanding of the body was flourishing. The lomilomi secret was out and the world wanted more!

What makes Lomilomi unique and effective?

Lomilomi, sometimes translated into “breaking up into small pieces” (as in lomilomi salmon), is much more than massage. Typically, techniques are administered with the hands, forearms, elbows and feet, while the recipient is seated or lying on the floor or a table. Lomilomi can break up those “knots” of tension, traumatic memory, and scar tissue held

in the body, bringing fresh circulation, flushing out metabolic waste, and restoring function and mobility. It can restore and renew the mana (life force) of the person’s body, mind, and spirit, as well as helping to increase function of certain organs and tissues, such as the ‘ōpū (intestines). Treatments begin and end with intention and pule (prayer) to align both the practitioner and recipient to the highest healing outcomes possible, during and after the session. Lomilomi, also called tau romi, romiromi, mirimiri, and many other names in the South Pacific, has a unique way of embedding ho‘oponopono into its practice. While the word pono carries the same meaning, the concept of mindfully practicing pono—of making things right or aligned—seems to be Hawaiian in origin. It is a common practice in Hawai‘i that has existed for centuries. It was also adopted and practiced within Christianity and professional counseling circles. The old stories refer to the deep, divine spark within all, and recognize that it is this indwelling light that is the innate source of one’s radiance and inner mana. This is where the sacredness of lomilomi can take us deeper yet. The use of the breath combined with divine guidance enables a lomilomi master to tap into higher states of awareness. The energetics may begin to shift, and a mutual zone of trust and knowingness unfolds. The breath deepens, the mind quiets, the heart opens, and time itself seems to shift. The person giving the session may find that his or her hands gravitate to certain places on the body that seem to be calling for attention. Subtle levels of palpation are heightened

Paul Rambo LMT using kaomi (compressions) up the arm.

photo courtesy of Nancy Kahalewai

Presenters (L-R) Mary Fragus, Nancy Kahalewai LMT, and Margaret Machado LMT at a Hawaiian lomilomi conference, circa 2000. photo courtesy of Kumu Dane Silva

as heat, tension, density, and blocked energy begin to dissolve. Stored emotions begin to seep out of their hiding places, while new layers of clarity and peace unfold. By this time, both the practitioner and recipient may sense the presence of ancestors and guiding wisdom. Old memories and new insights may arise while the present-moment awareness begins to expand. At this point, whatever needs to be released, may be released, and whatever needs to be restored, may be restored. A sacred understanding renews the spirit and infuses the breath. For those who want to learn more of this ancient art of healing, take time to seek out a lomilomi teacher or practitioner that you are comfortable with. Ask questions about their training, who their teachers were, how long they trained, and what their specialty is. Some of Aunty Margaretʻs students became teachers, and they and their students are practicing around the world. A few practitioners carrying on this lineage, here on the island, include Lehua Hobbs, Suzanne Kamaluhia Woolley, Jeanella Bingham-Keopuhiwa, Swami Om, Haunani Hopkins, and Dane Kaohelani Silva. Swami Om reflects, “Aunty taught us, ‘Lomilomi is a connection between heart, hand and soul with the source of all life. Love the body as if it were your own. If your hands are gentle and loving, your patient will feel the sincerity of your heart.’” Lomilomi massage should never push you into vulnerability or pain; rather, it should assist you to feel genuinely infused with the aloha spirit, with increased self-awareness and peace of mind. ■

For more information: howtolomilomi.com

Kumu Makaÿala Yates teaching floor techniques. photo courtesy of ManaLomi.com KeOlaMagazine.com | November-December 2021

25

Iopa Maunakea: Standing

By Ma‘ata Tukuafu

Dry land taro plants are being hand-watered by

two young men, one with headphones and the other holding a sprayer, in the Pāhoa morning sun. Banana trees, young la‘i (ti leaf), coconut, ‘ulu, and other thriving endemic plants are carefully planted and encircled by lava rocks found on the land. This is the seven-acre headquarters for Men of PA‘A, a 501(c)3 nonprofit that was originally founded by Iopa Maunakea in 2006. Iopa explains that the leased land was run down and misused by tenants from 1994 to 2004. After regaining the land, he was able to clean up the acreage to prepare it for a positive and regenerative use, a reintegration program for released prisoners and other community projects for the betterment of community. PA‘A, which means solid or firm in Hawaiian, is also an acronym for Positive Action Alliance, a thriving organization that has done much good on this island. Iopa, also known as the musician Bruddah Kuz, says all of this would never have happened if he didn’t start out with his 2000 CD release “Talkin’ Da Kine,” with the Bruddah Kuz Band. “It was at the events from performing that helped create the partnerships we have today,” Iopa says. “It evolved into gathering community to help with church events and other local festivals and gatherings. The music of Bruddah Kuz was the vehicle that inspired the Men of PA‘A.” Iopa worked as an operating engineer with the Local 3 Union, surveying and flying back and forth from O‘ahu. Retiring in June 2020, he began planting food, rejuvenating the land, and uplifting men’s spirits. He says during his career, work was routine, following set hours, but he’s now busier than ever, sustaining the programs he has created. Iopa’s success story with helping others begins with his grandmother Katherine Maunakea. Born in 1907, Katherine is the kupuna who set the foundation for the work ethic and aloha that her descendants carry forth today. Despite high poverty while living in Nanakuli, O‘ahu, Katherine was a teacher to many people. She knew that imparting

Working on Adopt-A-Highway, a project Men of Paÿa has participated in for the last 15 years. The Imu Mea Aÿi Project with the University of Washington Justice for Hawaii project.

self-confidence in the Hawaiian community would make them strong and capable. She published books on lauhala preparation and weaving, Hawaiian medicine, and a prayer book. Katherine, who was very humble, was awarded and recognized for her many deeds and accomplishments before she passed in 1994. “I’ve realized that she was setting me up to do much of the same work she did,” Iopa says. “I garner all the kūpuna ‘ike [wisdom] I can see, and exchange how it works for us today. We find resources, make strategic plans, and be administratively sound and transparent.” He mentions that one of his grandmother’s favorite ‘ōlelo no‘eau was, “Ne Huli ka lima iluna Pololi ka Opu, Ne Huli ka lima ilalo, Piha ka Opu.” (When your hands are turned up like a beggar you have an empty stomach. When your hands are turned down to the land, you have a full stomach.) His nephew, Dr. Alika Maunakea, is a geneticist at University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa. Iopa’s sister helped found the thriving Ma‘o Farms, a nonprofit organic farm in Waianae, O‘ahu. She

Iopa Maunakea: Standing Firm with the Men of PA‘A

was instrumental in assisting Iopa with setting up the Men of PA‘A as a nonprofit. Tutu Katherine’s legacy of empowering others has been carried forward through Iopa, his extended family, and her many students who are kūpuna today. Bradduh Kuz and Men of PA‘A tie everything together. Iopa had to learn how to be in compliance for the 501(c)3 and what it takes to set up a nonprofit. It allowed him to collaborate with other organizations and assist them with setting up their programs. Men of PA‘A, Iopa says, is about “people helping people, helping people. Itʻs an ‘āina-based recovery program from those coming out of the justice system.” The program has evolved, adding agricultural sustainability and stewardship of farms on the island’s varied districts. Iopa’s father and grandfather were born in Waipi‘o, and near the falls of Hi‘ilawe, the Men of PA‘A have established a lo‘i patch (irrigated, usually for growing taro) while taking care of the stream waters, culturally connecting the men who participate. The organization provides farming assistance to Sage Farms in Kohala, and also manages their own small farm in Hawi. Kalo is grown and maintained in Pāhoa and they are propagating small mamaki plants in Miloli‘i. The nonprofit also helps farms in other areas of Ka‘ū. Iopa works with different hubs around the island, assisting farmers with “getting up to speed,” then leaving the farmers to maintain it. “We are creating our own economics, and we hire people out to other folks. We are working with both farms and churches,” Iopa says. With help from the County of Hawai‘i, Men of PA‘A utilizes various methods to support in the rehabilitation of the men: moving out abandoned cars, picking up rubbish along the roads, and assisting the community during the 2018 lava flow. Iopa says they are trying to change the way things have been done in the past, and works with the county in partnership to assist them in fulfilling their kuleana. “We cannot expect different results if we keep doing things the same way. Public works is starting to find different ways of doing things,” says Iopa. “There are 30 of us who are active and organized. It feels good to make a difference, and hopefully we have a good rapport with the county, the prosecuting attorney, and the mayor, because with collaboration we can get more done.” During 2020 and 2021, Men of PA‘A have continued to make a difference despite the hardships presented by Covid-19. In order to continue serving the people, Iopa made sure Covid protocols were in place: they sanitized every place they worked, adopted masks, did temperature checks, and submitted to monthly testing. He says that when they met face to face, it made them confident in their space. The group distributed food, gas cards, and plants to Puna residents. They were able to work with the census bureau and signed up 123 families which brought in approximately $700,000 worth of resources to the Puna district. He added that working the census allowed Men of PA‘A to engage their civil duties. Iopa feels tourism came back too quickly, and that decision has affected the people of Hawai‘i. Another decision by the “powers that be” that adversely affected the community was

The Malama Kumukahi Project, a regenerative tourism program with the students of Washington University. KeOlaMagazine.com | November-December 2021

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when “people were let out of jail with no thought of what might happen,” he says. “We didn’t receive support for the release, yet we were affected deeply by it. We helped the clientele; we supported them and [eventually] by collaborating with the county, we have done good,” he said. Recovery is at the foundation of what Men of PA‘A represents. Iopa says, “When the kāne gets better, the family gets better, and who benefits? The community.” Working closely with Big Island Substance Abuse Council and other nonprofits helps with the success rate, as well as being productive and staying safe. After creating the offshoot program, Women of PA‘A, as a support system for the wives, girlfriends, and other family members, he sees the ‘ohana in the community healing and getting better. If they need help in any way, they are directed to resources and teamed up, or as he says, “We’ve created an ‘ohana piece. Mentorship for wāhine to share and to relate with one another. Now some women are really mentoring others.” The nonprofit has also begun mentoring in schools, specifically with 9th and 10th graders, a very crucial age of growth. Meanwhile, many of the newly released prisoners are not ready or prepared to enter the workforce. Men of PA‘A helps them get cleaned up, teaches them principles, commitment, discipline, and how to “get good” with self, family, and home. By helping them practice these principles, he says, unity is achieved. After developing a structured system, Men of PA‘A has seen hundreds of men through the program since its humble beginnings in 2006. It’s a process Iopa has enjoyed learning about, and he says he’s “seen a lot and learned even more.” “I’ve found my niche—helping people. And living our ‘ohana’s legacy. I have rapport with people. When you know people well, they come to me and say they would go to hell and back to help out,” Iopa says. “We are creating our own ecosystem and bringing in agencies. We are creating our own space that has a symbiotic relationship. Now we have four other kūpuna and two administrators on our team.” With more team members, additional programs have been put into place. Men of PA‘A’s umbrella organization, Kanaka o Puna (which translates to “Being Stewards of Puna”) builds community. Hawaiian cultural classes are offered to the public as well as workshops about incorporating healthy food into the diet. Sustainable agriculture classes and lua (Hawaiian martial arts) courses are provided. Iopa believes two things are very important to a successful organization: being very conscious of the overall strategic plan, as well as being honest with what is needed so help may be offered. “The system we’ve had in place does not set us up for success and it’s been so divided. No waha/grumble…enough already because aloha ‘āina has to be lived, not talked about,” Iopa says. “We’ve set up our clientele to be successful. WE have to do it, not wait for anyone else. We’re fighting to identify ourselves and practice ancestral and cultural kuleana. We are helping through this program, and now we are collaborating throughout the islands.” ■

All photos courtesy of Iopa Maunakea

For more information: kanakaopuna.org