Native Hawaiians find relief through ritual
After deadly wildfire, community seeks spiritual healing, revitalization
TWAILUKU, Hawaii he week after devastating wildfires swept across Maui, Hokulani Holt walked to the center of a grassy courtyard about 12 miles from Lahaina, just over the island’s steep mountains.
A kumu hula, or hula teacher, Holt gathered about 50 listeners into a half-circle, and exhorted them to “lift your voice.” They each held a cup of water, a connection between the body, soul and ’aina, Hawaiians’ expansive idea of the land. Several men and women blew hollowed-out bamboo pipes called pu ‘ohe, producing a deep, trumpet-like sound. Then, led by Holt’s voice, the group began to chant.
After the country’s deadliest fire in more than a century — at least 115 people have been confirmed dead, with hundreds still missing — practical recovery responses were clicking into place: food distribution, debris cleanup, a visit from the president.
But traditional Hawaiian ceremonies such as the one Holt held are addressing another need that many residents say is crucial: spiritual healing.
Although more than half of the people in the state describe themselves as Christian, and there is a strong Buddhist presence on the islands, in recent decades, traditional Hawaiian spiritual practices have been revived and advanced across the state.
In a survey conducted last year, more than 40% of Native Hawaiians said they interacted with the sea or the ‘aina — an entity sometimes described as a relative who is respected and cared for and who, in turn, cares for the people — for religious or spiritual reasons. Among non-Native Hawaiians, the number was 31%.
“People automatically now expect the kumu hula to form some type of ceremonial situation to address whatever the need is,” said Cody Pueo Pata, a kumu hula and musician who was raised on Maui and still lives there.
Within two days of the fire, he was among the small group of kumu hula who were making plans for the gatherings led by Holt, at the invitation of the nonprofit community health center hosting the events. The midday ceremonies over the course of 10 days started out drawing a few dozen people and grew to as many as 100 in person and more than 80,000 watching a livestream on social media. Oprah Winfrey, who has a home on the island, attended quietly on the last day.
The group’s work included selecting prayers for healing the island’s land and people. That required precision, as they considered which ancestors to address, and what to petition them for.
“What we didn’t want was to call too much rain,” said Keali’i Reichel, a musician who was born in Lahaina. Rain could cause flooding, and wash ashes and debris into the ocean. Instead, he said, “we try to urge moisture, just enough to create regenerative growth.”
He likened the practice of chant to the action of pulling back an arrow from a bow, poised to shoot. Practitioners must be aware of that power and know where to aim it, he said. The prayer, in English, reads in part:
O Great Lono Residing in the Water —Urge growth, bestir, animate life;
Here is the water, water of life, thrive! Grant us clouds, clouds from which life comes, thrive!
Reichel is one of the most prominent recording artists on the islands, known for several bestselling albums of Hawaiian music in the 1990s. But he has also become an ambassador for Hawaiian culture both on and off the islands. He founded a hula school in 1980 and is a longtime kumu hula, a role that goes far beyond choreography and includes responsibilities including passing down knowledge of specific spiritual lineages. More than one-quarter of the state’s residents identify as at least part Native Hawaiian or Pacific Islander, according to the most recent census.
Revitalizing Lahaina, Reichel said, is “going to take planning, a lot of chanting, a lot of ceremony.”