Connecting with the Protectors of the Forest

North America » United States » Hawaii » Big Island
November 7th 2014

Published: November 9th 2014

Edit Blog Post

Siewch

Mature Koa

Background

Since moving to Hawaiʻi, I have been very fortunate to work for a Native Hawaiian organization with significant land holdings, first as an independent consultant and now as an employee. One of the things that struck me about the people of Hawaiʻi, and Native Hawaiians in particular, was how connected many of them were to their land, environment, folklore and traditions. This is in direct contrast to many Singaporeans who are very disconnected. Although I love nature and I daresay I am more connected to the natural environment than most of my peers in Singapore, my connection tended to be visual, aesthetic and academic (I was a Geography major, map geek and avid kayaker) rather than something I internalized for my own wellbeing. For many Singaporeans, growing up was about academics and getting a headstart over our competitors. Other than physical fitness, other forms of wellbeing were rarely emphasized in any meaningful way. To complicate matters, our physical landscape in Singapore is extremely impermanent - in with the new, out with the old seems to be the prevailing mantra among our leadership ever since Singapore became a nation almost 50 years ago - and so we had few concrete

Juvenile Koa

Koa have compound leaves when young.

things to hold on to in our collective consciousness as much of the physical landscape was shiny, glitzy and inauthentic, driven by utility and commerce rather than by living or lived-in history and culture. To me, it is embarrassing that one of our most recognizable icons is a casino (okay, "integrated resort"). It therefore doesn't come as any surprise that few Singaporeans feel connected to the land or the physical environment in a meaningful way. In addition, for better for or for worse, ethnic Chinese in Singapore are required to learn English and Mandarin in school, and this put some distance between us and our cultural traditions. It isn't uncommon to find people of my generation, myself included, who were not able to communicate with their grandparents who spoke Southern Chinese dialects. In short, many Singaporeans are placeless, and this manifests itself in Singapore's high emigration rate. Surveys also generally acknowledge Singapore to be one of the least happy societies around.

My first introduction to concepts of place and placelessness were academic from my study of Cultural Geography, and my first immersion to connected cultures came from my trips to Indonesia while I was in university. While most of

Juvenile Koa

This young tree is transitioning from compound leaves to the crescent shaped leaves found on adults.

my peers headed off to Europe for their holidays, I traveled to our archipelagic neighbor to the south in part to see and experience how their belief systems permeated almost all aspects of their lives from how they built their homes to rituals that they practiced. Peel off the veneer of modern Islam and other religions practiced there and you'll see many layers of older Hindu or animist beliefs. Bali, in particular, was of interest to me for these reasons. See my Bali blogs here and here. I highly recommend Elizabeth Pisano's Indonesia Etc and the BBC's Ring of Fire documentary for those who want to know more.

Working for my then client and now employer, I saw how connected many of my coworkers were to their land and environment and how passionate many of them were about preserving and creating legacies - be it in the form of landscapes, cultures or traditions - for the betterment of current society and the benefit of future generations. Coming from a relatively placeless society, it was initially easy for me to dismiss this as irrelevant to modern life, but as time passed on, I grew to understand my clients' (and now

The Cedar Grove

Our cabin was tucked within this cedar grove. The trees acted as a windbreak.

coworkers') feelings of connectedness and I grew to envy them for it as it is something I will never get to internalize to the degree that they do. At work, I was fortunate to gain a lot of knowledge about my employer's lands because I participated in projects where I gathered data to help make management decisions about the lands. Through my coworkers, I learned about Hawaiian concepts of stewardship, and I also visited and did service projects on some of the lands on Oʻahu and the Big Island. The knowledge I acquired, however, was mostly paper knowledge that was academic and analytical in nature.

Every year, a lucky few employees are selected to be brought to Keauhou the eastern slopes of Mauna Loa to plant koa trees. The land where this program takes place is of high ecological and cultural value. It was once leased for cattle ranching, but the lease was terminated and the land is now slowly being reforested with native koa. I was extremely fortunate to be one of eleven employees selected to participate in the November planting (there are four staff plantings every year). I was excited to come on this trip as I

Koa Seedlings

The koa we planted were germinated in a nursery.

knew a lot (on paper at least) about Keauhou and also about the adjacent Kīlauea Forest which is the most intact native ecosystem in our land portfolio and I wanted to see these lands. This is my story of what I did and what I learned.

About Koa

Koa is a tree that is native to Hawaiʻi. In an intact native ecosystem it is the tallest tree in the forest. The koa is of deep cultural significance to Native Hawaiians and it is called the protector of the forest because if the koa is healthy, then other native fauna and flora will thrive beneath it. Another tree that is culturally significant is the ohia. In an intact native ecosystem, ohia grows underneath koa. Both trees have cultural and practical usage. I won't go into more detail as my limited knowledge wouldn't do justice to these trees when transcribed into my own words.

Getting There

To get to the reforestation site, we flew to Hilo and then drove west on Highway 11. Just after the turnoff to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, we turned right. Traveling north, we soon came across a gate that demarcated my employer's land. The

Koa Seedlings

We carried them in these bags to the planting site.

road transitioned from metaled road to gravel to no road at all.

After passing through the first gate, the koa and ohia got progressively more beautiful and majestic. Interestingly, my first moment of awe wasn't about the koa - it was about the ʻōhiʻa. On Oʻahu, ʻōhiʻa is more visible than koa and it tends to be short and stunted I guess due to lower elevations and also because the ecosystem there is highly degraded. Here, the ʻōhiʻa grew straight and tall. I never knew ʻōhiʻa could be this straight and tall.

Holy s***. This just became real.

The bumpy, hour long plus ride past the gates eventually led to a beautiful grove of cedar trees. To my surprise, we backed into the grove. Nestled within it was our cabin and home for the next two nights. The cabin did not have electricity, but we did have a generator that was turned on for limited hours at night and in the morning. The cabin was originally built during the cattle ranching days. We slept on bunk beds, had limited hot water to shower with, and we had a composting toilet. Basic but comfortable enough.

Planting Koa

Step 1 in Planting

One person creates a hole with an o'o stick.

Our second day was spent planting koa. After breakfast, we were driven to our planting site. There, many small holes about 2-3 feet in diameter had been previously dug into the ground, and our job was to plant the koa seedlings in those holes. Here's the drill. We were each divided into teams of three. The seedlings - which had been germinated in a nursery - were unpacked from their boxes and stuffed into carriers. Of the three team members, one uses a stick - called an oʻo - to dig a hole in the ground. The second person gets on his/her hands and knees, sticks the seedlings into the holes, and says something to wish them well (e.g., "grow straight and tall for the future generations"). The third person scatters fertilizer. We were to plant about 15 seedlings around each hole. Of these 15, on average three of four will grow into juveniles while only one will grow to a full-sized tree.

I did all three roles while planting. It was hard work. I felt a connection with each little seedling as I put it into the ground, patted dirt around it, and wished them well. It

Step 2 in Planting

A second person puts the seedlings in the hole and wishes them well.

saddened me to think that most of them would not survive. It was hard, dirty work, but we got through it and planted 1,900 seedlings that day. The weather was beautiful, and we heard native birds all around us. It doesn't get more real than this.

After the planting, we drove around the past planting sites including the first one from 1977. Throughout our three days together, the kupuna who led the program told us many stories about the history of the program (and the politics as well), and about community and culture. We then drove to the edge of Kīlauea Forest, which I knew from my project work was one the most intact native ecosystems we have. The forest itself was fenced in to keep pests out. I was awed by the size of the hapuʻu ferns in particular. This was a jaw dropping moment for me and I desperately wanted to jump that fence and get in among those trees.

Our next activity was to traipse through the forest floor to collect maile. We were taught which maile we could use and which ones we shouldn't, and how to strip the outer layer of bark and

Step 3 in Planting

A third person scatters fertilizer.

leaves. Once we collected our maile, we went back to the cabin and we were taught how to make them into leis which we brought back to Oʻahu to give to our loved ones.

The next day, we headed back down the mountain. Along the way, we stopped at an ahu (shrine/altar). Three 'io (Hawaiian hawks) circled in the air above us as we departed.

What Did I Learn

I don't even know where to begin. Of our group of eleven, seven were local and (I think) also Native Hawaiian while four were transplants. There were a lot of tears shed among the locals as this experience was very intense for them. The degree of their connectedness was not lost on me but I know I will never be able to feel that same intensity. I saw and experienced what an intact ecosystem should look, feel, sound and smell like. This experience also helped me make a little more sense out of the often bewildering and overwhelming mission that our organization is tasked with.

Most importantly, though, my paper knowledge about place, placelessness and connectedness became less academic and more real. And I know I have

Kīlauea

In the distance we could see the smoke rising from the vent on Kīlauea where the lava was coming out and flowing towards Pahoa. You can also see the 4WD conditions we drove in.

only scratched the surface.

This blog entry is dedicated to M., who would have turned 42 on the day of the planting (see my entry here). I thought about M. a lot as I put each little seedling in the ground, patted dirt around it and wished it well. It was such a perfect way to honor and remember M. on his birthday that I just knew I was meant to be in that place at that point in time. Happy Birthday M.

Additional photos below

Photos: 33, Displayed: 29