Ka Wai Ola - Office of Hawaiian Affairs, Volume 9, Number 12, 1 Kekemapa 1992 — Kalo, a metaphor for the Hawaiian famiiy [ARTICLE]

Kalo, a metaphor for the Hawaiian famiiy

by Jeff Clark One of the highlights of this year's 'Aha Kupuna was a workshop on kalo, or taro. As the staple food of ancient Hawaiians, and the legendary elder brother of humans, kalo oeeupies a special plaee in Hawaiian spirituality. LaFrance Kapaka-Arboleda of Hanalei, Kaua'i spoke to the kupuna about this venerated plant and its standing in the world of today. Kalo is a special plant, a sacred plant, but that's not all, she said. Kalo symbolizes so mueh to the Hawaiian people, but it should not be relegated to being a mere symbol. KapakaArboleda said she got into taro farming because she wanted kalo to be "a part of our lives, not just in legends." To many Hawaiians, taro is a memory, Kapaka-Arboleda said, and they associate taro with hard work. When

there is resistance to hard work, it is good to remind one another, "Hard work is good for us, it keeps us out of trouble," Kapaka-Arboleda suggested. Most of Hawai'i's kalo is grown in Hanalei, but only three of the area's taro farmers were of Hawaiian ancestry before Kapaka-Arboleda and her family got into it, she said. After six years, her 'ohana's kalo production is up to 10 acres. "It has not been easy but we have been able to do it," she said. Kapaka-Arboleda finds that her taro production, as a commercial operation, exists on two levels: corporate and 'ohana. They strive to keep the 'ohana system alive within the corporation, she said. Cooperation was very important to getting started. It costs 25-30 cents per huli (taro top), whieh is planted to create a new plant), but the 'ohana

was able to get around that expense. In exchange for huli to plant on their own land, they volunteered to pull taro for other area farmers. Onee they were producing taro, Kapaka-Arboleda said, "We decided that at any cost we would make poi — to make the circle complete." They started selling pa'i'ai poi (pounded but hard, undiluted taro) at $1 per pound and shocked the whole industry with the low price. They were able to sell it so cheaply because they use volunteer labor. Kapaka-Arboleda felt that "unless we got that poi back on the table while the kupuna were still alive, the mo'opuna (grandchildren) - a whole generation of children - would not get

to eat poi." Kapaka-Arboleda tells families who want to grow taro to start slowly. They should look at taro farming as a parttime activity, downplay the hard work, and emphasize the peacefulness of the lo'i (patch), the eool water circulating around your legs, the pau hana jump in the oeean. It's a good idea to start small, with maybe one to three acres, and introduce it into the family slowly. In addition to poi, families ean also harvest the leaves — one plant produces 30 luau leaves. Taro could eventually supplement an 'ohana's ineome, Kapaka-Arboleda said, and at the very least, you eat what you sow.