The full moon was up but going down,
and all the stars and planets were out, though faint in the
light-washed sky, when the dogs and I headed out for a walk on the
mountain trail that brought such gifts as cloud tendrils draped
around jagged green peaks, blood red lehua blossoms and on our
return, a curtain of light beams shooting into the sea from a bank of
orange-red clouds that held the sun.
I went because there's something about
going mauka, into the native vegetation, away from the sounds of cars
and people, that is more restorative than anything I know. And I went
because I was reminded of its recharge powers yesterday by a friend — a
hot-headed local boy from Hanalei — who had sought such solace
after an encounter with tourists on the North Shore.
Seems he'd been driving along the road
up there, when a car passed, heading in the opposite direction, and
he felt some hard objects, which he determined to be candy, pelting his face and bare chest through the
open window of his car.
“It was coming at like mock speed, so I
knew it had to be aimed. Get a lot of sassy people in
Hanalei, tourists and newbees, it's hard to tell the difference. I
was livid. So I threw my car in reverse and caught up with them at the bridge. And I'm telling them that kinda shit don't fly,
they could've put somebody's eye out. Then I hear this hee hee coming
from some kids in the back seat and I'm like, wrong guy, you don't hee hee toward
me, and the dad says, I told you not to be throwing things out of the
window. So right there, he admitted it, and I was just so pissed off
I reached in and slapped him upside the head.”
“What? You can't go around hitting
people.”
“I didn't use my fist. It was an open
hand.”
“Still. You can't be doing that kinda
stuff. What did the guy do?”
“Nothing. Because he knew he was
wrong. I thought it was just. It felt really good to dispense some
roadside discipline. You hear all the old timers saying, what
happened to our sleepy little Hanalei? And I tell them, our town stay
overrun with these sassy motherfuckers, and they're like, yeah, get way too
many haoles nowadays and I'm like, don't you think that's a little
racist? I don't know. This place is getting nuts. Hanalei is so
fucked up, the entire North Shore is gone. We need to take a good hard look
at what this progress we say we can't stop is really all about. I'm
like a bomb ready to go off.”
“It sounds like you already did.”
“Yeah. Well, I'm not the only one.”
“I don't imagine you are.”
“So I'm all nuts, but then I go up
mauka, way up mauka, where the oopu live, and I saw them swimming in
their pools and I felt good again. You gotta go back to those places
that remind you, yeah, this is what's real. It's not the tourists. It's not the guys taking down the mountain for a fucking road. It's this.”
It brought to mind the conversation I'd
had with Kaiulani (Edens) Mahuka the night before, when she talked
about how William Aila, a Native Hawaiian who is head of DLNR, told
her the state had only recognized four lineal descendants in Wailua
and she wasn't one of them, so she didn't have a say about what
happened to iwi in the district.
“When you have the original people in
the country, it only makes sense they should govern their own shit,
but it doesn't make sense to say some don't have enough blood
quantum. It's apartheid. It is saying I have more rights than you
because I have more blood quantum than you. This is exactly what
Nelson Mandela spent his entire life fighting, but because it's so
colonized here, we're used to it. It's absolutely evil. It's not
Hawaiian.
“I always imagined my enemies were
the officials of government, when under apartheid, my own kind are
working harder than anything to obliterate our past," she said. "William Aila, that Pua
[Aiu] chick at SHPD, they're working 70 to 80 hours a week for the
state. They're working harder to destroy our iwi, our antiquities,
than I am to save them. When I realized that, I didn't even want to
leave my yard. I think I understand why so many people are on
anti-depressants."
She sighed. “No matter what, we're always going
to be dealing with a corrupt government, but how do we help our
people prosper, anyway? And how do we not hate?”
It's a good question, one that needs an
answer as tensions mount and tempers fray in the face of rapid,
seemingly unalterable changes, to this island, to the planet. Good
people, caring people, people like my friend and Kaiulani, don't want to hate, don't want
to be going off on anybody, don't want to be existing in a perpetual state of
unease. Yet how, really, do you live comfortably in a society that is antithetical to your values, that seems hellbent on following the wrong path? How do you move easily within a system that requires land,
water, communities, indigenous cultures, to be destroyed, defiled, degraded in order to keep running?
I think Kaiulani has the answer, though
it's one that many will find hard to hear, and even harder to heed: “What if we all just
supported the truth?"