Dispatch from Ha’ena, Hawai’i
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It’s 7am at Ke’ei beach. Mist still hangs heavy over the mountains. My hula brothers and I have gathered at the trailhead with our Kumu (our teacher, or literally our source), Robert Uluwehi Cazimero. Kumu founded Hālau Nā Kamalei o Līlīlehua in 1975. His hālau is the oldest and most celebrated all-male hālau in the world. For 49 years, Kumu Robert has mentored hundreds of men to become gentlemen of the highest order and ambassadors of Hawaiian culture.
As I breathe in the morning air, I feel blessed in being among these men as a student of Kumu Robert and a member of his esteemed hālau.
We began our journey two hours earlier, driving northwest across the island of Kauai, over a series of one-lane bridges. We reached the end of the road and looked out upon Ke’ei Beach, a magical place with a serene lagoon of turquoise water bordered by a stretch of soft white sand. But the beach would have to wait, as we were there for a different purpose.
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Nestled in the mountains above Ke’ei sits a heiau (sacred place) that has particular meaning for na po’e hula — people of the hula community. Not open to the public, this heiau is reserved only for ceremony and pilgrimage. Kumu Robert gathers us around him and proceeds to tell us about this place’s spiritual significance. He speaks of his journeys here as a young dancer with his Kumu, Maiki Aiu Lake. He tells of dances and chants — many of which he has taught us — that this place inspires.
Through his voice, his eyes and his body, Kumu transmits his love and wisdom to us. He tells us he will not journey to the heiau with us. “I’ve been there many times,” he says. “You go.”
My brothers and I huddle to confer. Who shall stay behind with Kumu? But he insists that we all go. “I will be fine.”
So we begin our journey up the mountain. Mist shrouds the steep slippery slope. Drizzle is constant. In single file, we wind our way up in silence except for the occasional call of “branch” as we duck and press on with our journey.
As brothers, our ages range from 25–65. We help one another along the narrow path and offer a hand as needed. Then, the moment comes when we reach the heiau’s entrance. We remove our shoes and set our intentions. In silence, we enter this sacred place. My heart feels full!
We step onto a large plateau of grass, surrounded by a low rock ridge. To the west we can see the expanse of the ocean, and beyond. we look to the horizon and the place from where the original Hawaiians voyaged. To the east we can see a nook against the mountain that serves as a raised altar with offerings of lei from previous journey folk.
This mountain, five million years in the making generates a palpable lifeforce. I feel energy entering through my bare feet, akin to a mycelium network, connecting me to generations of hula dancers who have come before. We stand in silence, brimming with emotion and reverence for this place. Then Keola calls for a dance. We form three lines, and declare our kahea — Maika’i Kaua’i, Hemolele i ka mālie.
Our dance begins, and so does the rain.
As we continue dancing, the rains come on stronger. We feel our kupuna, our ancestors, dancing with us and blessing us with their tears. Drenched and ecstatic, hugging each other with joy, we embrace as our dance concludes. And once complete, the skies clear. A rainbow appears. Such profound blessing!
As we prepare to depart, I leave an offering in honor of my best friend, Scott Galuteria, an extraordinary hula dancer who died of AIDS thirty years ago. On the night before he died, I asked Scott how I would ever manage my life without him. “Dance,” he whispered, “and don’t ever stop. Because whenever you take your place in the line, I’ll be dancing right next to you.”
I came to this heiau once before, alone, in 1994, a few months after Scott died. Now, thirty years later, my journey is in community with my dear hula brothers, each of whom carries a bit of Scott in them, and reminds me that he is still here with me.
Scott, Kumu Robert, and this mountain have been stalwarts for me. The Five Elements speaks of this energy as the Rock. Solid, steady, reliable and dependable, “you can count on me.” Rocks, anticipate what others need — whether it’s respite, nourishment, inspiration, or a challenge. Rocks are sources of knowledge and wonder. They are our teachers, mentors, elders and ancestors.
Rocks are ever present, even when we can’t see them.
As we make our way back down the mountain, we see our Kumu, alone and quietly chanting. In true Rock fashion, Kumu Robert has been chanting throughout our entire journey — calling the ancestors to watch over his boys and keep them safe.
Kumu greets each of us with a smile and a hug, saying “I am so happy to see you.” The sun shines now and many of us go for a well-deserved swim.
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I often marvel at my Kumu Robert, who, at 75, is a stronger Rock for all of us than ever. He calls on us to go to him with anything — and he is there for us generously giving us what we need. A few days ago at a community gathering to celebrate my hula brother Keola’s graduation as a Kumu Hula, Kumu Robert asked his students to stand. In that moment, as so many moments before, he imparted his wisdom and blessing on us.
“Each of you is a Kumu in your own way,” he said. “Your kuleana (duty) is to share that part of you generously and without reservation. Shine on…because when you shine, I shine.”
People ask me how I am so unafraid to put myself out there with my beliefs and teachings sometimes before thousands of people. It is because of Rocks like Grace Lee Boggs, Aunty Puanani Burgess, Ms. Jacqueline Martin, Maestro Jerry Tello, Katherine Metz and Kumu Robert Uluwehi Cazimero. They continue to provide respite, nourishment, inspiration and a kick in the butt when needed.
My wish for you is that you have such mountains at your back, as I do.
Questions for Reflection and Discussion
1. Think about a teacher, mentor elder, or ancestor who has been a Rock for you.
2. And in return who are you a Rock for?
Kevin John Fong is an internationally recognized cultural translator, facilitator, and speaker in transformative justice, leadership development, and building beloved communities. Kevin is the Founder of the Kahakulei Institute, whose mission is to weave people and possibilities to cultivate communities of belonging.
Kevin is a featured host on the CNBC News series, Changing the Narrative, and the author of, “The Five Elements: An East Asian Approach to Achieve Organizational Health, Professional Growth, and Personal Well-Being.”
Most importantly, Kevin is the child of Bob and Mary; the spouse of Greg; and the parent of Rafael, Santiago and Conner. Kevin lives in the traditional land of the Ramaytush Ohlone people, now known as San Francisco, CA.
