The true meaning of Ohana
MOST VISITORS ARE FIXATED WITH views of the soft sand beaches and Pacific Ocean waves framed by palm trees, but it’s the verdant hills below the mountains that capture the hearts of the islanders. In these plots of farmland, locals literally connect to their ancestral ohana (family) roots, especially through the taro plant, or in Hawaiian, kalo.
Walking across Hoaloha Farms with owner Bobby Pahia, the gentle tradewinds are rustling the dry grasses and rows of banana tree leaves. In his 60 acres of crops, Pahia is sustainably growing a wide range of vegetables and fruit such as tomatoes, beans, cucumber, onion, zucchini, sunn hemp and several varieties of the revered kalo.
Sporting a MauiBuilt t-shirt, whose tagline ‘Cuz this ain’t the mainland reflects the independent island spirit, the man most people know as Uncle Bobby is committed to making sure the island’s past is part of the locals’ future. He’s soft-spoken, doesn’t endlessly chatter, and wanders his acreage in an old pickup truck, as he watches the changing clouds for rain and notices the wind direction.
For over 20 years, Pahia worked at the University of Hawaii, concentrating on scientific study of taro. His research focused on the benefits of bringing back a wider variety of taro plants to the islands. Leaving the sterile labs and white coats behind, Uncle Bobby is happy to be outside every day working with his family and getting his hands dirty in the earth that is integral to the story of the Hawaiian people’s origins.
Once upon a time Wakea (Sky Father) and Papa (Earth Mother) gave birth to Ho’ohokukalani. Their daughter eventually gave birth to a daughter, Haloa-naka, who was stillborn. The child was buried, and the plant that grew from the spot was kalo. Ho’ohokukalani gave birth to a son, Haloa, who is the beginning of the Hawaiian lineage and whose strength to survive was thanks to kalo.
The last Hawaiian monarch, Queen Lili’uokalani, translated the Kumulipo, the Hawaiian creation chant, while under house arrest in ‘Iolani Palace. As a group of people who learned their history, beliefs and culture through oral tradition, this translation is especially important in the 21st century, as the locals reclaim their culture, reading the stories previously spoken, and discovering their distinctness, especially in their food culture.
For islands like Maui, the Slow Food movement and eating local are recently adopted trends. Canoe crops — taro, sweet potato, yam and breadfruit — have become fodder to local chefs, who are inspired to move away from fine dining dictated by European traditions.
Hotel restaurants in Wailea such as Ko Restaurant at the Fairmont Kea Lani and Ka’ana Kitchen at Andaz Maui are both showcasing not only these ingredients as part of their finedining menus, but also sourcing many of their ingredients from local farmers, fishermen and producers, happy to
showcase Hawaiian dining culture that is more than a luau.
But for many families, the traditional diet of the ancestors is an idyllic option, but not necessarily one that they can afford. With taro plants priced from $6.00 to $7.00 and fine dining not something most families can indulge in regularly, Uncle Bobby wanted to offer a better long-term solution.
Pahia has been offering taro plants free to locals, encouraging them to bring their proud heritage into their own backyard and be able restore a Hawaiian food tradition to home kitchens.
Rich with fibre, vitamins A,C, E, several minerals (magnesium, potassium, iron, zinc) and low in sugar, taro is a versatile tuber that was intrinsic to the early Hawaiian diet. This easily digested carbohydrate is served savoury or sweet in a variety of dishes but traditionally it’s served as poi, a mashed, pale purple paste made from the steamed underground stem or corm of the taro plant. Tradition dictates that when eating poi, all disagreements must be set aside as the family shares from the same bowl, because they’re in the presence of the spirit of Haloa.
Hoaloha Farms sells its variety of crops to Maui restaurants, works with fellow farmers and provides plants and produce at annual events like the Maui County Agricultural Festival — all Pahia’s way of helping to educate locals about their culture. His goal is to ensure that his fellow islanders can eat locally and affordably while still being able to maintain a commercial enterprise that fits the description of modern-day family farming.
As Uncle Bobby showed off his taro plants, including the eye-catching Elephant Ear taro plant, once only eaten by the Hawaiian royal family, I saw his pride in being able to grow kalo for his fellow islanders. But more than that, Pahia is ensuring the Hawaiian past is still connected to the future of all of his ohana.