Sunday, from the north Boarder of Pensilvania , journeying to
i’ts southern end. We travel to spend noon, and lunch @ LongWood
Gardens---Dupont’s legacy to the Art and love of caring for plants.
They have a Tropical Garden The Size of My yard in Puna, Hawaii, one
acre plus under roof Winter Proof................. Among the
Ti
Leaf and Orchid roomgardens,... I Slow time, SHUT, time down,... now.
....now,, kahea kuana;.. “I Call me to my place in this universe” ...to
Feel sorry In this day in memorial., as divine’s forgiveness beat from
our hearts. for whatever where ever, we are un haunting The memory,
hurt. and Thank you, Thank you for our chin low. We love you Mother
earth. And good to Really really see ,OUR trees who take our wet tears,
and raw waste to build wood and leaves to take our dirty breath and
clean it returned. we love you. grace receiving gratitude. aloha nui...
in Christ light we see.
Dusk
shines shadows east, as the dirty yellow and orange moon rises over
the Rehoboth Beach board walk, In Delaware, facing The Atlantic Ocean!
Yellow Curry, and Padthai, This Teaching Hawaiian healing--- is a gig
with perks. Tasting Atlantic. Salt water. Smell the same as pacific,
but Dense, Like Gray in color, Not our feast of blues in Hawaii.
From Punana Leo o Hilo to Oxford
Saturday, August 13 1:05 am
By PETER SUR
Tribune-Herald staff writer
For anybody who has questioned the value of a Hawaiian immersion education, consider the case of 'Oiwi Parker Jones.
As members of Protect Kaho'olawe Ohana, his activist parents met in a courtroom following a protest.
Raised
by his mother in Hilo, he entered the first class of Punana Leo o Hilo
in 1985, and stayed with the program until he was 15.
Now
30, Parker Jones is a junior faculty member at England's University of
Oxford, where he earned his PhD., and he was recently granted a
prestigious $50,000 Mellon-Hawaii postdoctoral fellowship in
linguistics.
He joins a select group of scholars
to receive the fellowship, which this year includes postdoctoral fellow
Renee Pualani Louis, and doctoral fellows Larry Kimura and Kekuewa
Kikiloi. Kimura and Kikiloi earned $40,000 for the fellowship period,
which runs from September through June 2012
On a
two-week stay in his hometown, the first since 2009, Parker Jones
reflected on his work as a research fellow at Oxford. He works in the
field of computational linguistics, which involves using computers to
understand Hawaiian.
"If you want to make up new
words, are those words written consistently?" Parker Jones asked. His
work is useful for those scholars on the Hawaiian Lexicon Committee,
which is tasked with creating new Hawaiian words to bring the language
into the 21st century.
His other specialty involves running brain scans on bilingual people to explore what happens as they switch between languages.
For
Parker Jones, who grew up speaking Hawaiian, earned advanced degrees in
English, and who is now conversant in German, it's a natural fit.
Being
bilingual has its advantages, Parker Jones said. "It helps you know who
you are and where you came from. That's important, I think." Also,
"It's good to be bilingual if you can. While growing up, a lot of people
thought if we'd be good in Hawaiian, we'd be bad at English."
Parker
Jones stayed with Punana Leo until he moved to Utah, where he graduated
from high school in 1999. He enrolled at Colorado College, and in the
summer of 2000 took a linguistics course at the University of Hawaii at
Hilo.
"I didn't know much about linguistics" at
the time, he said. But the course helped Parker Jones unite what he
called "a double life" as a Hawaiian speaker and as an academic.
"It
seemed like a way that I could bring the two parts of my life
together," he said. "I would have something to offer as a linguist."
So,
in 2003 he applied for the best graduate program he could find, at the
University of Oxford. He received top honors for his master's thesis in
2005 regarding the stress patterns of 'olelo Hawai'i, the Hawaiian
language, and stayed at Oxford to earn a doctorate in linguistics.
He
wrote his dissertation on the phonology, or sound patterns, and
morphology, or word structures, of the Hawaiian language, including the
relationships between the two.
The research "makes
substantial new contributions to our understanding of the structure of
the Hawaiian language," said Oxford professor John Coleman, in a
statement. "The fellowship will provide him with much-needed time to
publish his work more publicly, either as a monograph or as a series of
journal articles. Either way, it is excellent news for his career and
will be a wonderful addition to the literature on Hawaiian."
Parker
Jones has published academic studies on a number of topics, including
loanwords in Hawaiian -- foreign concepts turned into Hawaiian words --
and predicting the use of the passive tense in the Maori language.
At
least one other part-Hawaiian Big Islander is also enrolled at Oxford
-- La'akea Yoshida, a 2010 graduate of UH-Hilo from Ka'u now studying
classical Greek and Roman history.
Parker Jones
likes living in the United Kingdom, but he'd also like to be involved in
the Hawaiian community. For him, "It's up to me to give back," but it
also depends on possible job openings.
His unique
background and cutting-edge research caught the eye of a distinguished
panel of scholars and Hawaiian elders that was charged with naming
Mellon-Hawaii doctoral and post-doctoral fellowships, which give
promising Hawaiian scholars the opportunity to finish their
dissertations or to publish original research.
One
member of the panel, Hawaiian Volcano Observatory scientist-in-charge
Jim Kauahikaua, said there were about 18 applications reviewed this
year, a relatively high number.
"It's sort of neat
that he's come up from the Punana Leo, then turned up into a lingustics
expert with incredible credentials in a very new field," Kauahikaua
said.
Email Peter Sur at psur@hawaiitribune-herald.com.
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About traditional Hawaiian lomilomi rites of passage and bodywork
DescriptionLOMILOMI RITE OF PASSAGE
What
are you calling forth in your life? Lomilomi is more than just another
massage. It's an ancient healing modality that provides support for your
life's transitions.
Chances are good that at this
moment, you or someone you love is going through changes in career,
family life, lifestyle, or personal growth objectives. Our mainstream
American culture only has established rites of passage for a handful of
these life events, such as weddings and graduation ceremonies, and even
these too often become such outwardly-focused social events that they
don't always provide the nurturing support or the true sense of
celebration we all need and deserve at key points in life. Lomilomi is
designed to provide that support.
Moreover, there are
some life changes for which we typically receive little or no community
support or recognition. How does a person mark the end of a bad
relationship and the beginning of a new freedom? How does the community
acknowledge a renewed commitment of a busy working person to be there
more fully for the family? What ceremony is there for the person who is
finally tired of compromising their health and plans to pursue sobriety
or overall better self-care? Lomilomi is that acknowledgement, that
support, and that beautiful, powerful ceremony.
In
lomilomi, therapeutic bodywork combines with non-denominational chant,
prayer, and intentional, deep presence to nurture your intentions and
new commitments to yourself as you move into a new phase of life. The
mind, body, and whole being experience this sacred ceremony, and the
concept of a new phase of life is no longer abstract. The mind, heart,
and every cell in the body are aware that not only is it time for a
change, but that there is support for that change. It is a new day, time
to act for the happiness and well-being of yourself and all those whose
lives you touch...and having experienced both divine and human support,
you can pursue those choices from a place of confidence, inspiration,
and joy!
Puna the aina knows this kind of lomi that lives in this practice.
Why our hawaiian healing school is constantly endorsing non violent confrontation.
"Non-violent
resistance implies the very opposite of weakness. Defiance combined
with non-retaliatory acceptance of repression from one's opponents is
active, not passive. It requires strength, and there is nothing
automatic or intuitive about the resoluteness required for using
non-violent methods in political struggle and the quest for
Truth."-Gandhi ... Harry Jim In the last century, the only ,
and i mean only successful transitions of power have been the non
violent resistant movements. This is the Global culture coming to
authority over bullies masquading as impovershied not enough. We have
enough. we are enough. without violence.
Hale Pai Pacific American-News Journal `Aukake - August 1996 Volume 2 Issue 8 SPECIAL FEATURE A CHOICE OF CURE by Martha NoyesOctober 15, 2011 at 7:29pm
Hale Pai
Pacific American-News Journal
`Aukake - August 1996 Volume 2 Issue 8
SPECIAL FEATURE
A CHOICE OF CURE
by Martha Noyes
I
first heard about Kalua Kaiahua a year ago when I was at `Ulupalakua
Ranch on Maui, working on a documentary about Hawai'i's legendary
paniolo, Ikua Purdy. Some of the people there talked of Papa Kalua. They
said he was a gifted Hawaiian healer who lived on Maui. They talked of
some of the people he had healed, and they told me he wouldn't see just
anyone.
Because of this, I didn't look for him. But I remembered
his name and the things that had been said, and I hoped that one day I
would meet him.
I have lupus, Some people may find it bewildering
that I'm not a great fan of Western medicine, even though my father is a
physician and my mother is a psychologist. Since my father's work was
largely at the leading edge of medical research, I've always been
comfortable with the understanding that the science of medicine is both
young and imprecise. Research is necessarily experimental, and inherent
in the experimental process is acknowledgment of the unknown. In short,
doctors don't have all the answers.
My disillusionment with
traditional Western medicine is not the result of any one experience. It
comes from an accumulation of experiences, and it is a disenchantment,
not a denial. Western medical practices have great value; they simply do
not contain all that is valuable.
One personal biological
idiosyncrasy in particular has made me wary of most Western medicine. If
a drug has potential side effects, there's a good chance I'll
experience them, sometimes - as in the case of aspiring and sulfa drugs -
to a life-threatening degree.
Another factor that has contributed
to my disenchantment is that I'm a bit uncomfortable in large and
impersonal surroundings. Maybe that's a personality flaw. Maybe it's
because I'm a writer and an artist. Maybe it's because, the fact that
I'm Caucasian notwithstanding, I believe the Hawaiian way of doing
things is the right way, and that which is not Hawaiian often feels
invasive and overbearing to me.
Finally, I have a belief, or
perhaps it's a theory, about some diseases, their causes and their
cures. For example, I believe that auto-immune diseases and certain
cancers are the result of long term trauma. Recent studies have begun to
show strong evidence of a causal link between trauma and damage to the
human immune system, including two empirical studies released last year
by the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH) and Harvard University
that linked physiological damage to the immune system and the brain to
childhood trauma.
Concomitant with this belief in trauma as cause
and disease effect, I believe that cure is possible. But I believe that
cure requires elements not yet generally accepted within Western
medicine. Thus, when late last fall my lupus came out of remission, I
wanted to find Kalua Kaiahua.
I was afraid, though. I remembered
the words I'd heard at `Ulupalakua - “Papa Kalua won't just see anyone.”
Under the circumstances in which those words had been said, I took them
to mean he didn't see haole people. I didn't want to presume that there
was any reason that I might prove to be an exception so I waited. And
while I waited, I asked Kekuni Blaisdell, M.D. for help. Doctor
Blaisdell and my father were colleagues, and I've known him since I was
fifteen. I knew he would respect the choice I'd made to not take
steroids or other drugs. He gave me a different sort of prescription.
By
now I've probably paraphrased his prescription to the point of
inaccuracy, but here it is as I remember it: Pray every day, meditate
every day, laugh every day, spend an hour every day with someone you
love and fill your life with purpose. For several months that was the
only medicine I took. It helped, but it took so much will, and I didn't
have enough will to sustain it daily and to keep true heart in it.
Then,
in January, someone told me Kalua Kaiahua saw people on O'ahu three
days each week, and she gave me his phone number is `Aiea. I am not an
especially brave person. Whatever acts of courage I may have committed
in my lifetime have come from desperation rather than from bravery. By
the second week of January I was desperate indeed.
I telephoned. A
woman answered. I asked if I could see Kalua Kaiahua. She said I could
and asked what was troubling me. I told her it was lupus, and she gave
me an appointment. By this time, I had little use of my hands or arms. I
could not grasp a glass of water in my left hand, and with my right
hand I could not keep hold of a pen. It was difficult to walk, and just
reading was physical labor.
I was very sad from the pain and
sickness, and at times I wondered if I could continue living if this
were how living would feel. I wanted one thing above all else. I wanted
to feel hope again. That was the miracle I sought.
I walked along
the marked pathway at the side of Papa Kalua's house in `Aiea to the
screen door at the entrance to his treatment room. A voice called out,
“Come, baby. Come inside.”
Papa was working on a person who lay on
a massage table. Eight or ten other people were seated in chairs along
the walls, awaiting their turn for treatment. I signed in at the book on
the little table near the door and took a seat in an empty chair. Papa
smiled at me. His smile touched me. I was safe here; that was conveyed
in his smile. He told me to look around and make myself at home. As I
did so, he talked. I quickly learned Papa talks as he works. He tells
stories and jokes, and he quotes the sayings he's made up over the
years. Sometimes he prays with a person. In all the hours I've spent
with him I've only once heard him lecture a person, and even that was
done gently.
What stuck me most as I sat waiting was the aloha
that permeated the room, the aloha that came from Papa Kalua. That, to
me, is the essence of a healing environment.
Papa was still
talking and still smiling. He spoke of a person's spiritual place in the
world. He spoke of needs and prayers, of hurts and forgiveness, of a
person's gifts and of the uses of those gifts, of visions and how to
know them, of broken families and of cutting the cords that tie one to
the past.
When it was my turn on the table, Papa Kalua put his
hands on my `opu, my stomach, and gently and firmly pressed and kneaded.
I didn't know what he was doing. Immediately, I felt some relief, but
my mind was on his words. “Uncle, how did you know?” I asked. He
continued working and said, “I know, baby. I know. I feel people. I felt
you when you came in.”
He worked on my shoulders, arms and hands.
He worked on my back, hips, legs and feet. He worked quickly, head to
toe in maybe fifteen minutes.
When he was finished, I had almost
full use of my right arm and hand, and my left arm and hand were about
fifty percent improved. I was much less tired than I had been when I'd
arrived.
He didn't stop there, though. He went into the house and
returned with his Bible. He took my hand in his and placed it on the
Bible and prayed.
I suppose I'm Christian. I went to Punahou where
each school day began with a prayer and Chapel was a weekly event. I've
always prayed, but it was something I considered to be personal. I
never thought of myself as being religious, but when Papa Kalua brought
out his Bible and prayed with me it seemed natural and right.
I
wasn't cured when I left Papa's house that day. But I had gotten the
miracle I'd asked for. I left Papa's house with hope restored. I think I
knew then that this was just a beginning. I'm sure Papa Kalua knew it,
too.
Within a week or two, I was coming to the house daily. Papa
asked me if I would help him put together a little book of his sayings, Kalua Sez is our first collaboration, and Papa's generosity gives me more credit than I'm due. Kalua Sez is all Kalua Kaiahua.
In
time, Papa mentioned his classes. At first I didn't want to be a
student. I was curious and interested, but I didn't think I had the
right qualities to study Hawaiian healing arts. For several months, I
successfully avoided becoming Papa's student, or so I thought. I look
back now and realize I had become a student almost immediately. I just
hadn't joined a class.
Papa didn't work on my body every day that I
went to his house. It was often enough just to be where he was - to
watch, to listen, to experience. Always I went home stronger than when I
had arrived.
There were so many little moments within these
months, so many hurts healed, so many fears calmed and hearts soothed,
so many little miracles and small flashes of insight, so many little
moments that accumulated more or less to form a continuously evolving
organic whole that I find them difficult to write about as distinct
events.
I remember a young woman who came in frightened and
crying. She was pregnant and her doctor told her the pregnancy was tubal
and needed to be terminated. Papa took her and her mother to a private
room and moved the baby. A few months later, the young woman gave birth
to a healthy eight-pound boy.
I remember a boy who had nearly lost
an arm in an accident. His doctors wanted to amputate the arm. The boy
came to Papa Kalua instead. Over a few months I watched the flesh on his
withered arm begin to fill out, the elasticity return to his skin, the
veins start to stand out, the muscles begin to tone, and feeling start
to return to his hands.
I remember an old woman who had cancer
that had already metastasized. She'd been through chemotherapy, but she
was dying. She came to see Papa. She wanted two things. She wanted to be
able to attend her grandchild's wedding, and she wanted to die in
peace.
She was weak and in pain. She sat slumped on the sofa at
the far end of the treatment room. When Papa told her it was her turn,
she tried to rise. Papa saw her pain. He said, “No, mama. You stay right
there. I'll come to you, work on your right there.”
He helped her
to lie on the sofa and he began to gently work on her `opu. Her pain
and fear and frustration spilled over and she cried. Papa held her. He
told her it was all right, that she didn't have to fight any more if she
didn't want to. He told her he would take the pain away, and she could
see her grandchild married and be at peace. He kissed her forehead and
she held onto him. It wasn't a long moment. It might not have seemed
like much. But when she left she was smiling.
Papa made no effort
to be objective or detached. He felt the woman's pain. He understood
what she was feeling. He gave her warmth and acceptance and love as he
worked her physical pain away. HE recognized that she had decided to
die. I know this because he and I talked about it later. He would not
judge her choice. He simply gave her peace in accepting it herself.
He
touched for in affection, brushed away her tears, stroked her forehead,
embraced and kissed her. When her pain made motion difficult for her
nameless people in uniforms picked her up to put her on a gurney to
wheel her to a table for the doctor's convenience. Instead, Papa went to
her, right where she was, and knelt on the floor beside her so he could
work on her body without moving her. He dignity was intact. Her spirit
was supported. Her feelings were accepted. Her value was acknowledged.
That
was a turning point for me. The next time Papa Kalua suggested I join
his class I said yes. In mid-April I began six weeks of formal study
with Papa Kalua Kaiahua. I'm not objective, I know, but I think my class
was special. There were six of us, all women. Three were Hawaiian, two
were Japanese, and one was haole. The youngest of us was in her
twenties, the oldest about fifty. Three were married and three were not.
Three lived on the windward side, two lived in town and one lived in
Central O`ahu. All of us had first come to Papa either as patients or as
family to patients.
What set our class apart was its heart. Each
person in this class approached her understanding of Papa's work first
through her spirituality, and then through the physical application and
intellectual codifying of what she was learning.
We began to work
on volunteer patients in our second week. This is a week earlier than
Kalua Kaiahua's students usually start to work on patients. Here I fell
short. I didn't have enough strength yet, especially in my left arm and
hand. After only a few minutes of effort, I shook. I was ashamed. I
thought Papa would be disappointed in me, and that my classmates would
think me a wimp.
What a waste of shame that turned out to be. My
classmates worked on me while Papa pointed out the peculiarities of
lupus. And he told me that there are many parts to healing and that the
hands-on part is just one. There is the spiritual part, the intellectual
part, the emotional part. He told me I could do those parts even while I
could not do the other and that in time I could add the physical part.
To
make up for what I could not do, I began to study the plants Papa uses
in his healing. I read about them in books, I asked him about them, I
looked for them in the wild and in botanical gardens, I grew them in my
yard. And I drew pictures of them. I took the drawings to class with me.
Papa explained the ways to prepare the herbs for medicines, and how to
use them. Together, Papa and I produced the book, Hawaiian Healing Herbs.
My
class graduated on the twenty-fourth of May. In a simple ceremony each
of us received a certificate of achievement that read: “This Award is
Presented to _____ in Recognition of Distinguished Achievement in
Contrast of Old and New Traditional Healing and by Recommendation of
Ho`ohalike Ko Kahiko Hou La`au Lapa`au has been granted this
certificate. Given by Kalua Kaiahua.”
Of all the diplomas, awards
and recognitions of any kind I've ever received, this one alone is
framed and hanging on my wall. This one I earned, and this one I'm proud
of. This one means something.
I am not done with Papa Kalua, nor
am I done with lupus. I will learn from him as long as he will have me. I
believe I have lupus for a reason, and through Papa I think I will find
a way for the experience of lupus to be of use.
Send mail to halepai@punawelewele.com with questions or comments about this web site.
