It's very therapeutic. Most look at it as unsightly and beneath them and yes even though it is, it's probably the best thing you can do for yourself. There are healthy minerals in it and it has good overall benefits physically and spiritually. This earth, this Hawaiian earth which gave birth to man himself and the many things that sustain him is what my people call, "Lepo."
In the context of which I tell this story, it stands for the very mud which fills my hands and passes through my fingers. My grandchildren can bathe in it for hours. I am proud to see them resist being taken out of it by my sons and daughters when dinner time soon approaches and a bath is necessary beforehand. Truly, they are children of the land. I linger a bit longer as my children to go on ahead and not to worry as the sun is soon to set and the air is cool as it filters through this lo'i.
I turn and look at our house which sits at the opposite end of our taro patch. Its a large home filled with warmth and many rooms for family and friends. The front yard is an acre of lively grass where animals and grandchildren love to frolic. In a time where children are being raised in condominiums with no yard to call their own, we are fortunate to have a place like this. The drums are sounding from Hakipu'u and the dim red torchlights are more fiery and intense as they near. it is time to go. I love to come at this early time and watch my grandchildren play in the mud with wild excitement, our children have done a wonderful job in raising them. It was myself and my wife who dug out this old taro patch and it was our children who played in it until they were old enough to till the land themselves. The procession is here and it awaits my presence, my wife is there too. She smiles and waves me to her and I go.
"They'll be fine," my wife rubs my arm. "This taro patch is the legacy given to us and so on and so forth. They will join us when the time comes."
The conch shell sounds and the drums pound. The command is called to march and so we move forward. The lights in our old house go dark and a tear fills my eyes. They listened, they remembered the kapu that we told them about the very procession that we would become a part of. How I love my land and how I love our children and grandchildren.
Come listen to Lopaka's storytelling LIVE - Friday, August 23rd, 7:30pm, at the Honolulu Museum of Art Doris Duke Theater
Please note: This is not a scientific study; the "most haunted" stories are purely based on the number of ghost stories and haunted tales shared with our storyteller about each place.
7:30pm, Friday, August 23rd
$15 per person/ $12 museum members
Get your tickets HERE
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