A beautiful telling of surviving #Hurricane #Iniki (1992) #Kauai #Hawaii #landback I have added a few minor translations in parentheses.()
"I just wanted to say, mahalo to everyone. As how, we malama (care for) each other. This is Aloha. I'm on Kaua'i and I see all you guys are dealing with, I had pule for all of you.
When Iniki had hit. We were at my uncles house because his house was newer so we thought stronger. The roof went. Then we saw bits of the ceiling go. When this happened, the adults stuck us keiki (children) into the closet. We waited till the eye of the hurricane was over us so we can run to the neighbors house cause uncle's house was ready to go. When it came, was so weird, so still. And like dummehs, we had to run barefoot to the neighbors house cause everyone left their slippers (flipflops) out on the porch, but us keiki were carried. The neighbors took us in, protected us keiki, and was really chill, they weren't panicking and after what we witnessed in my uncle's house, we were scared. They were calm. Then the adults started drinking and kanikapila (music jam session) with 'ukulele and slack key guitar and we all was singing. It helped calm us.
When we were able to go to our home, our home was gone. Literally blown down into the valley. Two things remained, my playhouse (I was 5) and our toilet, and it was still working, still hooked up. Was something though. So with hundreds of families, we moved down the hill to Hanama'ulu beach. Sharing just 1 Waterhose, our only source of fresh water. We slept on army cots in make shift tents made from tarps. But we never went hungry, we never went thirsty, we were never cold. Us keiki would trade our MRE, the cocoa, bubble gum and peanut butter ones was like gold and currency amongst us keiki. Was like one big community and many months of camping. We had malama everyone, we looked after each other, when a few was able to go back to work, aunty guys 2 tents down would watch the keiki. We shared, never asking for anything in return. I'd walk the beach with my cousins, see someone cooking on a grill by their tent set up, they call us over to eat. We didnt know them, we called them aunty and uncle. One couple lived in their van and the woman would braid all the girls hair and put beads at the end. This made us girls happy and smile for days. There were no school. So we'd play all day, everyone fishing, throw net, picking opihi (limpets) and hau'uke'uke (helmet urchins). The trees in the hills had lilikoi (passion fruit), the Japanese sour berries, and guava, then we go aunty house at the corner ask to pick from her trees then we go down valley grab lychee.
When our land was cleared we moved back. We had some aunties and uncles join us with all their keiki. We set up tents. Since our toilet was working, we had put my play house over it for a bit for privacy, lol. But the adults had a hard time. So we hauled scrap wood and metal from the remnants of our hale from the valley and built an out house. We used to bathe, 3 at a time in the big rubber trash cans, we had running water, tarp walls for privacy. But no one wants to be squished in a trashcan to bathe with 2 other keiki. Then we had the biggest surprise! Dad found our tub during another one of his treks in the valley. Him and uncle hauled it up to our site. That was one real luxury!
In the end, the land we rented was $1 lease. I guess they had an offer for the land and told us of we wanted to buy it, we would need to buy our plot, the plots next to us and the entire valley. No one was working and we had nothing! We tried to get a loan but was only approved for 11k when they wanted 300k. That's cheap now, but then we had nothing. I guess my aunty made a deal, we get a few years and can make an offer. So we took that 11 k and built a 15 × 15ft shack. A tall dresser (served as a wall) in center and a full size bed on each side. One bed for our parents and the other for us 4. Aunty also did something with her portion of the loan.
We lived like that another 2-3 months. Total of about 6 months from the beach to our lot. Then we learned the land was sold and we had to leave. Just like that, now we had nothing. My mom never showed her grief and stress. She sent us to Oahu to live with our grandmother and go to school to give us a semblance of normalcy and assured we had a roof over our heads. Then when it was time, she sent for us to come back home.
It was devastating, but we felt safe, we malama each other, and that is the Aloha I am seeing and appreciate.
Mahalo everyone!
Stay safe."- as written by Chantelle Kane, Kauai, Hawai'i.
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