Our Hawaiian culture has been and is a beautiful thing. We were near extinction at one point in our history and all might have been lost had it not been for a handful of brave souls who committed themselves to breathing a sense of awareness and pride back into the minds and conscience of our people. Many of us yearn for the simple times of our ancient ancestors; which is why some Hawaiian people have returned to the more traditional methods of fishing, cultivating taro and kapa beating to name a few. Other arts like weaving, feather making and tattooing have also experienced a significant return to prominence. So too has the art of Lua, Hula and way finding.
However, some of our people have also returned to the practice of the more sinister arts, like pule ‘ana’ana, or praying people to death.
…
A Hawaiian man appeared on the sidewalk in front of a sandwich shop one morning and lingered about for several days. His hair was long and wild and he only wore a pair of board shorts and slippers and nothing else. He bothered no one and kept to himself, however, he was not shy about accepting food or a few dollars from anyone. One afternoon, after amassing enough money to fill his pocket, the Hawaiian man walked into the sandwich shop to buy a sandwich. The owner freaked out when she saw the shirtless native man in her establishment and rushed around the counter to chase him out.
“I just want to buy a sandwich,” the Hawaiian man pleaded.
“No!” The woman screamed. “We won’t serve you! You’re filthy!”
“What if I just give you the money then? Can you bring the sandwich outside to me?” The man asked. Looking at her name tag, he could see that it said, “Karen”
“Please Karen,” the Hawaiian man begged. “I’m really hungry,”
“NO!” The woman screamed again. “Go to the gas station next door!”
With that, the shop manager pushed the Hawaiian man too hard and he lost his balance. He tried to grab on to anything to prevent himself from falling and managed to grad a handful of the store owners hair. It came right off of her scalp. The woman screamed bloody murder and the Hawaiian man ran from the store. The police were called but there was nothing they could do, at least that’s what they told her. It seemed as if she was the one who assaulted the Hawaiian man. Not the other way around.
…
Three days later, the Hawaiian man appeared on the sidewalk in front of the sandwich shop with a wooden bowl. In it, was the hair of the shop’s manager. He removed a lighter from his back pocket and lit the hair on fire. Once the black smoke bellowed out from the bowl, he opened the door to the sandwich shop and called out the managers name,
“Eia ka mea ho’onaukiuki, ‘Oia no ‘O Karen. E laoa a make!” The Hawaiian man hissed and left.
The shop manager, Karen was in the middle of eating a salami sandwich when the Hawaiian man opened the door to her store and began his strange incantation. She was so incensed by his brashness that she jumped over the counter with a knife in her hand, she'd had enough. In the excitement, a chunk of her sandwich got lodged in her throat and she choked to death. Just as the Hawaiian man said she would.
The Hawaiian man wasn’t really homeless per se', he was just one of those Hawaiians who returned himself to one particular ancient practice. Praying people to death.
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