Week 6: Hoʻolohe (Deep Listening)

This was a week of hoʻolohe...deep listening.

Not listening to talk. Not listening to refute. Not half-listening.

Really listening...

Listening to kūpuna (elders)

I know... I am an elder! But there are so many folks here who look my age and are in their 80s or older! On Monday, I walked to the post office and an ‘elemakule (elderly gentleman) asked me a question. I couldn't quite hear him over the sound of traffic, but I told him that I was visiting, so I wasn't going to be very helpful if he needed directions. He stepped in line with me and asked how I liked Hawai‘i. I told him I loved it! I raved about the beautiful trees and the breeze and the rains, and he smiled big. I asked if he was born here on O‘ahu and he nodded. His name was Mark and he told me that he is what the Japanese call Sansei (三世) — third generation. His grandparents immigrated to O‘ahu in the late 1890s. I said, "Oh! So they were here for the illegal overthrow! Your family must have seen so many changes!" He agreed and then proceeded to talk story about his family and asked where I was going. When I told him, he said, "I know where the post office is. I can take you there." It was a half-mile beyond the store he was heading to! I tried to argue, but he insisted.

I turned off my GoogleMaps directions and listened. It was lovely to hear stories of working for AIG Insurance in the 1980s — their parties, him dressing drag for a Wild Thing skit with his coworkers, and the way his first and last day of working for the company both featured a huge potluck. We walked extra slow and missed a couple of crosswalk lights so he could take his time to tell his stories.

When we got to the post office, he shared one more story, this time of the Ala Moana Center (the mall where the post office was). When the mall was newly constructed in 1959, they needed an anchor store and reached out to Sears Roebuck. The Sears executives said they would move to the Ala Moana Center, but only if the woman who sold boiled peanuts outside its store could move with them and continue her business. The stipulation was agreed to and Mark recalled with a big smile being a 5-year-old boy, running past the woman selling peanuts outside the Sears store. Before he left me to do his shopping, he told me that, eventually, the woman was able to send her three children to college, and I was floored!

I was glad I slowed down to listen to this elder and receive the gift of his memories of companies taking care of their people, and their impact on the community. This reminds me of my ethnomathematics work. That an unexpected walk or a talk with kūpuna (elders) can become the classroom.

Listening to the Land

On Thursday, I took a trip to the Lyon Arboretum. Before I even got to the visitor's center, the ancient trees, the wind, everything just spoke to me. I took several hours to walk maybe 2 miles — over rocks, through mud, on grass and leaves. There were countless types of birdsong, waves of fine mist, and silence interrupted occasionally by distant chainsaws as humans worked tirelessly to tend the land and fend off invasive plants. I thanked so many flowers, telling them I was just going to take their picture and leave them alone. There were patches of matured flowers, littering the ground. Slippery mud that made me extra cautious and giggle at my fear.

A panorama view from the Overlook Native Hawaiian Plant garden

So many flowers!

These palm trees are over 200 years old!

Lilōa, who is one of five staff who tends this incredible garden, talked about the trees, Ethnobotany, and coconut beetles that are threatening the trees. When he found out I was from Tucson, he shared that he actually spent his junior and senior years of high school in Tucson and graduated the same year as me! *What?!*

Ancient grandparent rock is covered with plant life. 

A gorgeous, towering tree.

At the end of the trail, you will discover ‘Aihualama Falls.

I rested in this beautifully tranquil spot to journal and listen and just be.

Listening to the keepers of the Hawai‘iloa

I ended the week working on the canoe named Hawai‘iloa. He (yes, the vessel is a he) is a double-canoe ship that has been dry-docked at the 10 Sand Island Parkway pier for eight years. I learned that a dedicated crew worked tirelessly for years to seal all of the wood and were almost finished during COVID, when they discovered wood rot and had to start again. They work almost every Saturday, along with any volunteers that show up, to make the repairs needed to get the Hawai‘iloa seaworthy again.

Photo of the Hawai‘iloa from the Story of Hawai‘iloa website

I listened to crew share how the Hawai‘iloa was designed in the 1990s to be built using ancient Polynesian ways, but deforestation of the Hawaiian islands resulted in an absence of native trees large enough. The Tlingit Nation of Canada/Alaska gifted two Spruce trees for the vessel!

All of the wood must be coated with epoxy seven times (with sanding in between) and then coat with another protective sealant six times. Hence, the years and years of sitting on the drydock.

I spent the morning sanding the ‘iako, which are the wooden bars connecting the two canoes.

The ‘iako I sanded will get a sixth coating of epoxy next.

The Hawai‘iloa has several ‘iako that are too weathered by the Sun and all need to be replaced.

I learned so much from listening to the other volunteers talk story: about their lives, their hopes, and their work. Although I had to skip Saturday pickleball to volunteer, it was definitely worth it and I will go again!

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