As a kid, I remember visiting my mother's parents in Kalalau Valley on Kauai.
The house isn't there anymore, but it was a long drive and then a long trek to get into the valley to see my grandparents. They lived humbly and wanted for nothing because the land gave them everything they had. It's where my mom grew up. I love my grandparents, and I loved being there. I was always sad when we had to leave, mainly my mom, because she was never sure when we'd see each other again. One day, I went hiking into the valley with my tutu man to get mountain apples for dinner or in the morning. We reached a point where the valley wall went straight up, and there, a hundred feet above us, were mountain apples growing in profusion. There was no way to get up there, but my tutu man held my hand and began to chant. When the chant was over, and I opened my eyes, my tutu was a hundred feet above me, picking the mountain apples off the branches and carefully placing them into the burlap sack around his shoulders. He put his finger over his mouth, telling me to be quiet, and pointed behind me. When I turned around, giant black pigs stood there, looking me in the eye. I was ready to call out to my tutu man for help, but he was suddenly standing beside me."Tsa!" He motioned with his hands for the black pigs to leave, and quietly they went.
We trekked back down to the valley and were soon at the house, where Mom was helping tutu lady to prepare dinner. Lots of poi, pipikaula, limpets, and steamed pork. I said nothing to my mother about what I saw. It wasn't until we were back home on Oahu that I mentioned how Tutu man was suddenly a hundred feet above me, plucking mountain apples. My mom walked me outside to our large backyard, and suddenly took on the form of an 'Io, a mighty hawk. She flew up to the top of a telephone poll, and in her bird form, she said, "Like this, this is how he did it."
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