The Tahitian He'eiau

When I was 16 the opportunity arose to join a student exchange program through Punahou Summer School that traveled to Tahiti to study French.  There were about 10 of us on the trip which included staying with local families and excursions to art museums and local places of cultural significance.  Ironically enough the family I stayed with was Chinese and spoke Chinese at home. 

Early in the trip we travelled around the main island of Tahiti, stopping at a site where archaeologists were excavating a he'eiau.  It looked very similar to the Hawaiian version, as the two cultures are very closely related.  In fact, Tahitian and Hawaiian languages are nearly the same, the only difference being certain consonants that are switched.  For example, in Tahitian the word for forbidden is "tabu" and in Hawaiian it is "kapu".  In any case, a he'eiau is basically a low wall of a few feet high surrounding a square shaped enclosure. There are often several sections and levels with an particular spot designated as the altar.

We arrived at the dig site and were taken over to a deep pit that had been dug off to the side of the lower enclosure.  I can't remember exactly why they had chosen this spot in particular to dig, if they had found artifacts or some clues that they might find something there.  In any case, the archaeologists were French so we had a translator along to translate for us since our linguistic skills weren't up to the task.  It took a very long time for the archaeologist to speak, then for the translation to us.  It was warm, and after awhile I started to feel very sick.  Assuming it was the heat and standing still, I told our chaperon I needed to go sit down. She told me to sit in the bus.

After a short time, feeling much better, I went back to the dig.  I usually find these things very interesting and wanted to get back and hear more about it.  I stood there again and within 5 minutes my stomach began to heave.  I  thought it strange, so this time I walked away to find the altar and look around.  Once I had walked 20 feet from the dig the illness stopped almost immediately.  I noticed this as being rather odd.  If I were really ill then surely it would return no matter if I sat in the bus or walked around, but I felt fine.  I decided to test a growing theory that the dig site was making me feel ill. 

After a walk around the place I headed back to the dig site being very aware of how I felt.  Once again the nausea welled up in me as soon as I got to the edge of the pit.  Stepping back made it abate, coming closer it intensified.  After we got on the bus I polled everyone else and learned that no one else had felt ill. 

Later in our trip we visited a woman on another island that was considered a Tahitian spiritual woman who we should give much respect to.  The house, as I remember it, was blue and much like every other house in Tahiti.  There were many plants outside, and dogs and cats hanging around.  The woman, whose name I don't remember, spoke to us about Tahitian spiritual practices in general and then the group moved on to refreshments outside.  The woman remained inside and so I asked to speak with her.  Through the translator I was able to relate the experience at the he'eiau, explaining how I had felt ill near the dig site and how this was not the spot thought to be the altar. 

The woman told me that something bad had probably happened in that spot where they were digging.  Sometimes there were sacrifices and possibly human ones at one point in time.  I couldn't believe that she was telling me this so matter-of-factly.  Instinctively I sensed that she didn't approve of sacrificing any living thing.  But she gave complete credibility to my experience.  She never doubted that I felt this odd nausea and that it only happened near this spot.  She told me that I was merely sensitive to these things and that the world was telling me something, that's all.  I felt better for having been validated.

What really happened? In my heart I felt that something was communicated to me.  Something happened - I wasn't sick before or after we went to the dig.  Strange things seem to happen in Hawaii and alsoTahiti. These places hold on to the spiritual thread that the ancient cultures brought to the land.  You can almost feel it in the air, a kind of different energy.  It's the kind of energy that I think people hope to find by visiting Indian sites or events.  They hope to find this powerful, primeval kind of energy that lingers just below the surface, but oddly enough I never feel that either at Indian sites or from Indians themselves.  It makes me feel sad. 

Sometimes, in places like Shiprock or Devil's Tower, there seems to be a very faint energy, but it's not like Hawaii.  In Hawaii, things happen. You get the feeling that nothing you do leaves you any control over what happens there.

Pele's Revenge

Please note:  it is helpful to read the post "Hawaiian Ghost Stories" first for background). 

As a child growing up in Hawaii I was constantly told stories about not removing rocks from a) an active volcano, b) a Hawaiian temple called a He'eiau or c) other sites which are deemed sacred to the Hawaiians and/or the volcano goddess Pele.  I love rocks.  To this day I have a large collection of rocks from all over the place (ok, mainly Utah and Wyoming, but just about every place I've been is represented).  Not only do I love rocks but my grandmother had taken a liking to a semi-precious stone found near the volcano called "olivine".  It is an olive-colored glassy stone that is created when the right combination of heat and minerals combine.  There is a beach on Kauai that is made of olivine and it is often found embedded in volcanic rock.  My grandmother had some jewelry made from it and I thought it was so beautiful.

In any case, my fourth grade class went on a trip to the Big Island of Hawaii.  The purpose was to see Volcano National Park, and various He'eiaus and petroglyphs and other things of educational interest.  In preparation for the trip my mother allowed me to use her special bag and a pair of her stylish slip-on wedges which were a bit large for me.  My grandpa gave me fifty dollars as spending money.  I was so excited!  I had never been on a trip without my parents and I felt very grown-up.

On arrival at the hotel, the teachers gathered us into the lobby for a stern lecture from the hotel manager.  He warned us to keep the noise down and to not run in the hall.  We were to stay away from certain areas of the hotel but we could purchase candy from the lobby store.  Most of all, he warned, we were not to lock our keys in the rooms as this caused many problems for the hotel staff! He mentioned this twice at least.  Then we had an hour to put our bags in our rooms and of course, buy some candy.  I held off, not wanted to appear desperate for candy right away.

The first stop on our tour was the volcano, looking very flat compared to all the movie volcanoes.  Even the extinct craters on my home island were steeper, having been eroded away.  In their original state they look like a shield and are called "shield volcanoes" due to the way they erupt.  They don't explode so much as fountain.  There are hundreds of pictures of the fountains of lava erupting from Kilauea or the other active vents in Hawaii.  In some pictures of lava the face of a woman can be seen and it is said that this is Pele. 

In any case, we arrived at the volcano and peered into the vast crater of Kilauea, which was slightly smoking.  There were men in special white suits walking around in it.  They said it was more than a mile down to where the men were walking.  It is an unforgettable sight once you have seen it.  After the crater we drove along the road making stops at various spots.  At one spot, to my great delight, was an entire field littered with - you guessed it - black volcanic rocks studded with olivine!  They were so beautiful and there were so many of them!  Yes, it is against the law to remove rocks from a national park.  Not only that, the  legend was hanging over me too.  She would surely have vengeance on me for taking her rocks.

But it was simply not enough to stop me from taking several rocks.  My grandmother would be so happy that I had managed to bring home semi-precious stones for her.  Perhaps jewelry could be made from them... And those legends, come on!  How could they possibly be true?  Would the park service prosecute a child?  And the people who made the olivine jewelry, they must have gotten it from the volcano too... I could justify anything!

As the day wore on, things began to change.  The group of girls I considered my friends sat with me on the bus as we made plans for spending the evening at the hotel.  All day we sat together, giggling and laughing in between stops at the volcano park.  So far so good.  When we arrived back at the hotel that night, everyone crowded around the kiosk in the lobby that sold candy, myself included.  We took our stash up to the room and proceeded to do all the things the hotel manager told us not to.  We screamed, high on way too much sugar, teased the boys, tried to break in to their room.  I got emotional for some reason and....locked our keys in the room.  Yes, me.  And when my roomies found out it was me, I was out of the club. 

The next day I had to sit next to some nerdy boy on the bus who also ignored me.  I tripped in my mom's shoes several times, finally tearing them.  Someone told me I looked stupid in them anyway and they were too big.  My cool bag that my mom let me use suddenly seemed too big, too touristy.  Was it my imagination or was everyone looking at me like I was a complete dork loser?  No one wanted to sit with me at lunch.  The guy that I thought liked me was holding hands with some other girl.  My friends barely spoke to me.  The trip went downhill fast. 

That night in the hotel room I decided to go through  all the things I'd bought on the trip. It was our last night and my friends left me alone in the room to go have fun.  At the bottom of my bag sat those olivine rocks, glinting and dangerous.  I made a decision right then because it had become clear to me that Pele had indeed punished me and I didn't like it!  I found my teacher, a great lady who I knew would understand.  Gathering all my courage I knocked on the door to her room and silently handed her the rocks.  I told her how sorry I was and how wrong it had been to take them.  She solemnly received them from me, understanding my situation.  She said she would do something with them. 

After that a weight lifted off me and I headed down to dinner happy.  Low and behold, my friends smiled and invited me to eat with them... we had fun, and I spent the rest of grandpa's money (much to his surprise - "what in the world did you spend that money on?")  on more candy and nick-knacks.  We had a great night. 

In the morning we piled on the bus to go home, and I happened to look down at the planter on the sidewalk of the hotel.  There were my three rocks, glinting in the morning sun.  I smiled and said goodbye. 

In case you think this is a bit "out there", here is a website you can go to to read similar stories and it also tells you how to return rocks taken from the volcano.
http://www.volcanogallery.com/lavarock.htm

If anyone has stories they would like to share, please leave a comment and share your story.  I love to hear about things that have happened to others!

Next post:  what happened when my Dad took a rock from the volcano.

Hawaiian ghost stories

My family moved to Hawaii in 1974 when I was 8 years old and quickly learned that we were in a whole new world.  Clouds obscured the top of the Pali (vertical, green cliffs) that loomed over the town of Kailua where we lived.  It rained seemingly every hour and the sun peeked out only briefly.  Hawaii was a dark place compared to the bright, sunny openness of my birthplace, Colorado.  Instead of carefully cultivating plants and trees and hoping they would grow, in Hawaii they had to be hacked down in a constant battle.  It felt like the landscape moved in on you, concealing and closing in. 

In this environment ghosts seemed only natural.  The stories local children told us were strange.  The first one we heard about had to do with the god Kamapua'a.  Kamapua'a was a pig, literally, and often at odds with Pele, the goddess of the volcano.  On Oahu, the island we lived on, it was said that Pele would not allow Kamapua'a to cross over her (now extinct) volcano.  In a practical sense this meant that those travelling over the Pali using one of the two (now three) highways carrying pork would have car trouble.  My family actually debated the reality of this, as we had planned to go shopping on the other side of the island.  In later years when I really thought about this legend, I realized that grocery trucks and restaurant supply trucks must cross the Pali daily, and you never saw them by the side of the road. In any case, the legend goes on...

Another legend tells about the Night Marchers. The night marchers, as it was told to me, are the ghostly Hawaiian soldiers that fought in various battles throughout the islands. They continue marching to the battle in ghostly formation.  If you happen to run in to them at night, you should avert your eyes and strip naked, lying down face up.  This way they won't hurt you.  I never learned what it was they would do to you, but I was sufficiently afraid to take heed.  The night marchers have sometimes appeared in photos as a line of vertical white smudges or flames. They can be seen holding torches and wearing Hawaiian warrior helmets as well.  I never saw the Night Marchers, thankfully, though some in my family think that the ghost that walked outside my room may have been a night marcher.

Another legend involves Pele, the volcano goddess.  She is said to be very powerful and many chants and hulas are dedicated to her.  Hawaiians often travel to the Big Island of Hawaii to make offerings of gin to the volcano in her honor.  Pele is one of the more powerful of the Hawaiian goddesses and also seems very much alive when the volcano is erupting.  It is said that if you take rocks from the volcano or from a Hawaiian temple, called He'eiau, you will have bad luck until the rock is returned.  In my experience, this is very true!  Pele is said to wander the highways as an elderly hitch-hiking woman.  If you pick her up she disappears from your car but you have good luck.  If not, of course misfortune rains down on you! 

I related the story of the Menehune in "Grandma says goodbye".  These are the stories as they were related to me and of course there are many variants.  There is even a movie out (fictional) about the night marchers.
There are other legends but these are the ones that came to mind first and had the most affect on my life.

If anyone has stories they would like to share, please leave a comment and share your story.  I love to hear about things that have happened to others!