it's not really memorial day, but i suppose it will do, as it gives me a day off to move house. what a hectic week! no time to blog. friday evening went to visit imiola at his house in kapahulu. he's looking thin and has bruise marks all up and down his arms where nurses have been poking him relentlessly. imiola said 'no more', so he decided to go home. stella made a pot of curry stew. we brought dessert. then poha arrived to hook up his computer on the chair near the bed. so he can read and send email more easily (one does not give up one's virtual life!). then evern arrived. we all ate together around the bed in a very tiny room with not enough chairs. but it felt homey and family-like. i think imiola ate a tiny piece of custard pie while the rest of us chowed down on stew and poi and stew and rice. i could have cried, but waited until we got into the car. and even though i had my trusty camera, i did not take a photo of him or of anyone else.
i don't remember when i met imiola, but i think it was around 1992. imiola is carl young, a great friend and supporter of poka and of all social justice issues. i worked for hui naauao, back then, as oahu island coordinator. i set up educational workshops in schools, homes, and for public events. poka was present for many of these, as was imiola. imiola was a substitute teacher for many years, and is a student/admirer of johan galtung, a peace activist who taught for a while at u.h. manoa. most of the papers i have from imiola are of galtung's writings. back then, in the early 1990s, i remember having numerous talk story dialogues at iolani palace grounds. one time, in particular, it was pouring rain. we had a tent and everybody, including galtung, tried to jam under the tent. it leaked. we were wet. but no one left. the discussion was so important to have that we simply couldn't let the opportunity to talk pass because of the rain. i mention this because 16 years later, we're still trying to have the same kind of dialogue--one of peace, justice, aloha, malama aina, malama i ke kahi i ke kahi. i can't believe it's such hard work.
on thursday next week, june 5, we'll be doing a similar kind of dialogue, trying to move away from the strictly political/legal/analytical kinds of educational gatherings we've had in the past, toward a talk story format that allows us to be honest in expressing how we feel about hawaiian sovereignty in this hectic and sometimes scary world. i sent out the invite the other day--and wouldn't you know i'd get the damn info wrong! so i re-sent. already got several responses, positive ones, from those who want to attend. maybe there are others tired of the never-ending barrage of "my way is the only way" rhetoric. we've been spoiled by the push for self-determination (at any level)--we actually do want to choose, and any process that comes down already made has obviously made the choice for us. where's the self-determination in that? sometimes it's so crystal-clear to me that nothing can be 'created' for someone else, not if you want that someone else to take kuleana for it. we need to create for ourselves so we live and die by our own actions, good or bad. part of growing up, of evolution for the whole human race.
yesterday i took my students to palehua. we were hosted by shad kane, who shared a ton of info with the students. there's stuff up there, and a few people mentioned they felt the presence of something/someone in the area. one of the students didn't want to walk around in the pa, even though it should be okay, as permission was requested to enter. since nobody dropped dead, it should be safe and we could take that as a "come on in" sign. anyhow, his hair kept standing on end, so he walked in and out quickly. on the way home in the bus, one of my other students shared his own native american genealogy. his great grandma, and grandma practiced shamanic rituals. we talked about ritual and blood. then he showed me his hand and a cut that was drying up. he had been watching from a little distance as shad took students around and noticed a stone over which a number of dragonflies were flying in a circle, which he though was odd. then a bunch of butterflies came (white ones, brown ones, and golden ones) and flew around in a circle over the same stone. so finally he figured there must be something special about that stone and went over to take a look. he put his hands on the stone to feel it. then he walked away. but he noticed a moment later that he had blood on his hands, which is when he noticed the cut. he didn't feel it and couldn't remember where he cut himself. so he went back to the rock and saw that his blood was on it, so he obviously cut himself there. i asked him how he felt about that. he said he felt really, really good, as if leaving his blood there, on the stone, was an appropriate thing to do. i was happy he was happy, as i'm not sure of the significance of that act in his culture. but i was intrigued about its significance in hawaiian culture. we'll see...
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