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Living aloha: here's your guide to the real Hawaii—ancient temples, trendy food, taro patches, and crazy ukulele nightlife

Sunset, Feb, 2003 by Kathleen Norris Brenzel

Flying into Kona, the plane passes low over turquoise water so clear I can see white sand and Black lava rocks through its shimmering depths. Beyond the shore, the land tilts up to form mountains cloaked in mist.

Not so long ago, I came to Hawaii, like most visitors, to vacation on those beaches, to swim in the crystalline shallows and watch yellow butterfly fish glide over the reefs. Afterward, I'd drip dry on a lounge chair by the beach, sipping a cool drink or losing myself in a novel, before sun or soft breezes lulled me to sleep.

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But a couple of years ago, another, more vital Hawaii began to reveal itself to me--one that was far from the tourist hotels. On a grassy terrace above Kauai's Ke'e Beach, as a setting sun turned the sea to liquid gold, I discovered a Hawaii few visitors ever see. Hula dancers in grass skirts and shell leis, moving to the beat of drums and the cadence of a chant, gracefully acted out the story of a long-ago canoe voyage from Polynesia to Hawaii. Watching the dancers, I began to wonder: Is a ceremony like this simply an isolated remnant of a vanished past, or does a genuine Hawaiian culture still exist?

The image of those dancers on a ledge above the sea still haunts me. On this trip, I've decided to go beyond the beach and trek up into those misty hills in search of the real Hawaii. At the airport, I jump into a taxi bearing a bumper sticker that reads simply, "Live aloha." I don't know what that means, but I'm about to find out.

Hawaii (Big Island):

Tracking the ancients

"Move over," says Leimomi Mo'okini Lum, gently but firmly. "You drive too fast." Pulling over on an empty road in North Kohala, I slide across the seat and let her drive. Even behind the wheel she is regal in a brilliant blue floral-print blouse and blue slacks. Gold bracelets jangle on her wrist; yellow orchids flutter in her hair like exotic birds. We are heading to Mo'okini Luakini, one of Hawaii's oldest beiaus (temples). Lum--the present kabuna nui (guardian-priest)--has agreed to take me there.

The heiau, on the island of Hawaii's windswept northern tip, is one of several important sites that make the Big Island the state's most visible repository of traditional native culture. Other dramatic Big Island sites--like Pu'uhonua O Honaunau, a religious village, and Pu'ukohola Heiau, a temple built by Kamehameha the Great, who unified the Hawaiian Islands into a kingdom around 1795--are now national parks. But Mo'okini Luakini is especially significant.

Legend has it that Kamehameha was born nearby and was brought to this heiau to be blessed. The ancient temple is still an active link to today's native Hawaiian culture; Lum, I'm hoping, will show me how it's used. Like her late father, Dewey O. Kuamo'o Mo'okini, and generations going back some 1,500 years, according to family chants, she keeps watch over these sacred stones.

Turning off the highway, we bump along a road that becomes a dirt track through scrubby kiawe trees, eventually coming to a stop in a grassy field. The sun beats down, and beyond the heiau, wind pushes whitecaps across the blue sea. On distant Maui, clouds hide Haleakala's peak.

The heiau's walls, built of massive black basalt rocks piled atop one another, rise some 30 feet tall. "Ask for your needs, not your wants," whispers the kahuna nui outside the entrance. "Open your heart. Open your mind like a sponge." Inside, the temple is as big as a football field and open to the sky.

At the altar, Lum closes her eyes, tilts her face skyward, raises her arms as if to embrace the heavens. She whispers a prayer, then removes the yellow orchids from her hair and places them atop the sacred stones. Watching her, I'm struck by her deep spirituality, her reverence for this place of her ancestors. I whisper my own prayer, then put my lei of braided ti leaves near her orchids.

"Are you comfortable here?" she asks me later. Once a shadowy place where ali'i nui (kings and ruling chiefs) prayed to the war god Ku and where humans were sacrificed, Mo'okini today is a place of healing. "Yes," I answer. Water droplets fleck my arms, but I see no clouds. Lum smiles knowingly "You're being blessed," she says. "Your prayers have taken flight." Across the channel, clouds have lifted from Haleakala's crown.

In 1978, Lum rededicated the heiau to the children of Hawaii, and there, each November, she teaches them the ways of their ancestors. They make leis to leave on the altar. "They must learn to give of themselves," she explains.

Driving back to Kona, she shares her vision for the heiau's future. She dreams of seeing an education center nearby where Hawaii's children can learn their heritage, and she has started a foundation, Mo'okini Luakini Inc., to help make it happen. Preserving the ancient sites and passing on old traditions are ways that Lum and Hawailans throughout the islands are keeping alive their culture. "Without a past, we have no future," she says.

AUTHENTIC EXPERIENCES

Big Island

Horseback rides. Paniolos (cowboys) and ranching are synonymous with old Hawaii. Na'alapa Stables has a guided, 2 1/2 hour ride at 8:30 A.M. ($75) and a 1 1/2-hour ride at 1 P.M. ($55). (808) 889-0022.

Living aloha: here's your guide to the real Hawaii—ancient temples, trendy food, taro patches, and crazy ukulele nightlife

Sunset, Feb, 2003 by Kathleen Norris Brenzel

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