Ka Wai Ola - Office of Hawaiian Affairs, Volume 6, Number 9, 1 Kepakemapa 1989 — Makaku [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Makaku

By Rocky Ka'iouliokahihikolo 'Ehu Jensen ©

Picture a little boy, perhaps seven or eight years old, playing in the large and dusty yard of his parents' home in Ho'okena, dragging the huge, knobby, war club of Ka'iana'ahu'ula behind him. Children are running around, participating in a more benign form of sham

battle. . . the prize being the privilege of dragging Ka'iana's club, it symbolically representing booty and temporary command. The reason that the club was constantly dragged was because it was too large to carry, even after 12 or so inches was cut off from the handle because of wood-rot. Homer A. Hayes would spend many hours talking to me about his past, Hawaii's past, and the life of his illustrious ancestor Ka'iana'ahu'ula who died in the last major battle of O'ahu. He was also lee-

turer and teacher in many of Hale Naua's workshops and seminars. Homer was a fountain of knowledge, having spent the better part of his life learning and understanding the purpose for that sanguinary battle called Kaleleka'anae or more popularly, Nu'uanu. His enthusiasm in research encouraged us to do the same. . . . forcing us to realize that "popular history" isn't necessarily "true history". When Hale Naua III, Society of Hawaiian Arts, presented its exhibit of Kaleleka'anae, at Queen Emma's Summer Palaee in 1982, we, of course, had spent months of research, culminated with a historical tour or "walk through" of the major battle sites from Cleghorn street the Pali. Homer A. Hayes and Charles Kenn are our historian guides to reliving the ordeals of 1785. The exhibit opened with paintings depicting many of the more sensitive and sorrowful aspects of that devastating encounter, from both sides. One painting in particular caught Homer's eye. He was standing in front of a "songline" portrait of

Ka'iana . . . depicting that chief's liquid dark eyes, set in a definitely strong, handsome face. In the painting, Ka'iana was surrounded with purple ha'uke'uke,and wana, crushed and dead, their souls slowly elevating from their physical burden, all representing his eolumn of fighting men who had died for his principles. Walking up to Homer, I could see that he had tears in his eyes, the painting being a quiet vindication of the unfair abuse heaped upon his ancestors by those who had recited the victor's opinion of the war and what led up to it. I did not interrupt his passionate solitude, but walked away, leaving him to that delicate eommunion that we Hawaiians have with those of our blood who have departed from this earthly plane. The very next day I spoke with his son Ka'ai, and he told me that this father was very mueh taken by the painting. He said, "Isn't it uncanny . . . they have the same eyes." We all went back to the painting and recognized that they did. continued on page 20