Ka Wai Ola - Office of Hawaiian Affairs, Volume 1, Number 9, 1 November 1984 — a short story Because [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

a short story Because

Editor's Note: The following short story was submitted b> a student of Hawaiian music and language; a singer/musician of strictly Hawaiian songs; producer of a Hoku award-winning record alhum; University of Hawaii instructor in the history of Hawaiian music; a former editor and writer with the Honolulu Star-Bul-letin; State Director of Information and many more

outstanding credentials. He is married to a Hawaiian, a top hula dancer, has part Hawaiian children and recently a part Hawaiian mo'opuna. He is now director of puhlie relations for Mid Pacific Air. " While my skin may be ha'ole wale no," he says, "iloko na'au, he Hawai'i au."

By Keith Haugen

The old man leaned against the hard back of his favorite chair. He appeared tired and deep in thought. His white beard seemed whiter still as the rays of the afternoon sun backlit his beautiful dark features. He was old for his years, and the lines of his face showed he'd had a hard life.

He looked warmly at the young girl seated on the floor near him. She was leaning against the railing . . . waiting. She seemed anxious for conversation. Her blonde hair was so fine and her fair complexion contrasted sharply with his. As he was old, she was young.

He spoke softly. There was understanding, maturity, in his voice. Although he seemed totally lost in thought, he continued to look at her with a feeling she also seemed to understand. She had spent many hours listening to him, on days like this. She knew there was some special reason why he always singled her out for this attention, but she didn't quite know why. The other children were in town, shopping, but, as

on many occasions in the past, the old man had asked her to stay home with him. He always asked her to talk with him. She used to wonder why, since she hardly ever did any of the talking. Maybe he just needed someone to listen to him, she reasoned. Today was no different, except perhaps that he seemed more tired. She listened intently. He spoke in the same soft voice he used when he talked to the lamily, she thought; the same as when he prayed. To her, he represented wisdom . . . wisdom that comes only with age. She didn't quite know how to tell him that. She loved the old man and wondered if he knew it. She also didn't know how to tell him that. He must know all things, she often thought. Perhaps it is best if she just listens.

"In the old days, the children never ran out to greet visitors," he said. "It was not the way. The children would run inside to get one of their parents or grandparents to greet the visitors. That's the way it was." "Why?" she asked. There was a pause as he reflected on her question. She wasn't sure if he'd even heard her. He continued, softly as before, almost as if he was talking to himself. "Lots of people think the custom of taking off the shoes when you enter a home eame to the Islands with the Japanese . . . or the Chinese. They don't know that it was an old Hawaiian custom, a manner of the Hawaiians before the arrival of any foreigners. "Of course their shoes were sandals made of ti leaves, but they removed them before they entered."

"Why?" she asked again. There was a longer pause, but no answer. As the old man studied her features, he seemed to be thinking about days long past. Perhaps he was thinking of another young girl, someone she resembled very strongly. "In the old days," he continued, seeming again to ignore her question, "In the old days, things were different. My grandmother . . . that's your great-great grandmother, told me that she remembered the old ways.

"Her father told her that Hawaiians didn't always kiss eaeh other when they greeted. They called it honi, but it didn't mean kissing like it means today. ln those days, they just pressed the side of their noses against the cheeks of the friends they were greeting. Nowadays, all the Hawaiians kiss and that has become a modern custom of Hawaii." She held back her question this time. It just didn't seem like the right time. She noticed tears welling the old man's eyes as his mind continued to wander to years past.

"On Christmas Day, the Hawaiians used to get together for parties and there was always someone who could play the guitar and ukulele and everyone would sing. But that was all new to Hawaii too. "Grandma said she remembered when they didn't celebrate Christmas. She said the missionaries who first brought Christianity to our people didn't eelebrate Christmas when they first eame because it wasn't a celebration mentioned in the Bible. They were puritans.

She interrupted him again. "Why?" she whispered. "Why are you telling me all these things?" There was a long pause again as the old man seemed to move back through time again . . . backtothe lanai he now shared with the young girl. "Because," he nodded wisely. "Because." "Because I'm your grandpa, and because we're Hawaiian." There was pride in his voice as hesaid that. His voice trailed off as he slipped back into thought. And he seemed to smile a little. "Because," he whispered. "Just because."

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