
For a number of years, I have been appreciating the amazing talent and technology of the traditional Hawaiian culture. One example is the loko i‘a, the Hawaiian fishpond, which I was involved in the rebuilding and restoration of for several years. The loko i‘a was unique to the Hawaiian Islands and represents a very sophisticated environmental management technology that allowed Hawaiians to use various forces of nature to create a system that bred and stocked marine animals. At the same time, it provided a catalyst for abundance on the adjacent reefs. The advanced engineering that went into the placement and the construction of the walls and gates continue to be a testimony to the tremendous insight and talent of traditional Hawaiian marine engineers and hydrologists. When one adds the beneficial environmental impact of these structures, we begin to appreciate the depth of knowledge our ancestors had about the physical world they inhabited. They had the ability to understand and use natural phenomena such as the wind, tides, currents, fresh water and salt water, mixing them in ways that wouldmaximize benefits for the population and for the environment. In the loko i‘a, the community maintained a unique “icebox” to collect food reserves and breed and grow marine animals, and as a result, people and the reefs prospered by the presence of these fishponds.
There are numerous other examples of traditional technology and the sophistication it displayed regarding the management of human activities, the long term sustainability of important natural resources (such as the marine reefs, fresh water, land use, waste management), and other critical factors that allowed the culture to prosper and sustain itself. I have been fascinated as of late with the lowly wooden calabash, called ‘umeke in the Hawaiian language. I must make adisclaimer and say that I am not a woodworker. The “C” I got for my shoebox in Papa Wright Bowman’s crafts class in seventh grade cut short my promising career! But over the years I have been astounded by the work of those who make our traditional calabashes and have read some of the history and lore surrounding this sophisticated craft.

The making of wooden and gourd calabashes was an art that was passed down in secret from master to student and was jealously guarded by the craftsmen and their families. The production of a calabash would often take a considerable amount of time and effort and the product would become a prized possession of its owners. Types of wood and shapes of the container would be specific and often ‘umeke of various types would be used by families over many generations.
What, you might ask, does this have to do with today’s world of Tupperware and Ziploc containers? Please bear with me. In the making of ‘umeke, there often would appear cracks and imperfections that could potentially make the bowl useless. Because of the cost of production and the importance of these calabashes in the day to day culture of our kūpuna, the wood working masters developed a way to repair cracked ‘umeke and restore them to their original state… even making the cracked bowl stronger. They did this by using an innovative fishtail joint, the pewa, to seal the crack and save this important part of day to day life in traditional culture. The ‘umeke was restored to its function and its important role, and the family was able to continue to use this important implement for its benefit.
As I thought of this small, yet important example of the traditional technology of the Hawaiian culture, I was stirred by the picture of many people in our communities who quietly and often without recognition work as human “pewa” to heal and restore broken pieces of our families, neighborhoods, and communities. They bring people together, they restore dignity and usefulness to those we have abandoned, and they do it without need for publicity and promotion, just like the pewa that healed the traditional ‘umeke. How blessed we are to have these individuals who join together the cracked seams of our lives and allow us to grow and prosper as individuals and communities.

I hope you will take a moment and think through the “pewa” who work to bless us and encourage us in the midst of the challenges we all face. Take a moment to recognize their work and celebrate with others the gift they all give to us and our ‘ohana. May our most fervent prayer be that we would be a “pewa” in the lives of those around us. Blessings and aloha!