hawaii leis

Living aloha: here's your guide to the real Hawaii—ancient temples, trendy food, taro patches, and crazy ukulele nightlife

Flying into Kona, the plane passes low over turquoise water so clear I can see white sand and Black lava rocks through its shimmering depths. Beyond the shore, the land tilts up to form mountains cloaked in mist.

Not so long ago, I came to Hawaii, like most visitors, to vacation on those beaches, to swim in the crystalline shallows and watch yellow butterfly fish glide over the reefs. Afterward, I'd drip dry on a lounge chair by the beach, sipping a cool drink or losing myself in a novel, before sun or soft breezes lulled me to sleep.

But a couple of years ago, another, more vital Hawaii began to reveal itself to me--one that was far from the tourist hotels. On a grassy terrace above Kauai's Ke'e Beach, as a setting sun turned the sea to liquid gold, I discovered a Hawaii few visitors ever see. Hula dancers in grass skirts and shell leis, moving to the beat of drums and the cadence of a chant, gracefully acted out the story of a long-ago canoe voyage from Polynesia to Hawaii. Watching the dancers, I began to wonder: Is a ceremony like this simply an isolated remnant of a vanished past, or does a genuine Hawaiian culture still exist?

The image of those dancers on a ledge above the sea still haunts me. On this trip, I've decided to go beyond the beach and trek up into those misty hills in search of the real Hawaii. At the airport, I jump into a taxi bearing a bumper sticker that reads simply, "Live aloha." I don't know what that means, but I'm about to find out.

Hawaii (Big Island):

Tracking the ancients

"Move over," says Leimomi Mo'okini Lum, gently but firmly. "You drive too fast." Pulling over on an empty road in North Kohala, I slide across the seat and let her drive. Even behind the wheel she is regal in a brilliant blue floral-print blouse and blue slacks. Gold bracelets jangle on her wrist; yellow orchids flutter in her hair like exotic birds. We are heading to Mo'okini Luakini, one of Hawaii's oldest beiaus (temples). Lum--the present kabuna nui (guardian-priest)--has agreed to take me there.

The heiau, on the island of Hawaii's windswept northern tip, is one of several important sites that make the Big Island the state's most visible repository of traditional native culture. Other dramatic Big Island sites--like Pu'uhonua O Honaunau, a religious village, and Pu'ukohola Heiau, a temple built by Kamehameha the Great, who unified the Hawaiian Islands into a kingdom around 1795--are now national parks. But Mo'okini Luakini is especially significant.

Legend has it that Kamehameha was born nearby and was brought to this heiau to be blessed. The ancient temple is still an active link to today's native Hawaiian culture; Lum, I'm hoping, will show me how it's used. Like her late father, Dewey O. Kuamo'o Mo'okini, and generations going back some 1,500 years, according to family chants, she keeps watch over these sacred stones.

Turning off the highway, we bump along a road that becomes a dirt track through scrubby kiawe trees, eventually coming to a stop in a grassy field. The sun beats down, and beyond the heiau, wind pushes whitecaps across the blue sea. On distant Maui, clouds hide Haleakala's peak.

The heiau's walls, built of massive black basalt rocks piled atop one another, rise some 30 feet tall. "Ask for your needs, not your wants," whispers the kahuna nui outside the entrance. "Open your heart. Open your mind like a sponge." Inside, the temple is as big as a football field and open to the sky.

At the altar, Lum closes her eyes, tilts her face skyward, raises her arms as if to embrace the heavens. She whispers a prayer, then removes the yellow orchids from her hair and places them atop the sacred stones. Watching her, I'm struck by her deep spirituality, her reverence for this place of her ancestors. I whisper my own prayer, then put my lei of braided ti leaves near her orchids.

"Are you comfortable here?" she asks me later. Once a shadowy place where ali'i nui (kings and ruling chiefs) prayed to the war god Ku and where humans were sacrificed, Mo'okini today is a place of healing. "Yes," I answer. Water droplets fleck my arms, but I see no clouds. Lum smiles knowingly "You're being blessed," she says. "Your prayers have taken flight." Across the channel, clouds have lifted from Haleakala's crown.

In 1978, Lum rededicated the heiau to the children of Hawaii, and there, each November, she teaches them the ways of their ancestors. They make leis to leave on the altar. "They must learn to give of themselves," she explains.

Driving back to Kona, she shares her vision for the heiau's future. She dreams of seeing an education center nearby where Hawaii's children can learn their heritage, and she has started a foundation, Mo'okini Luakini Inc., to help make it happen. Preserving the ancient sites and passing on old traditions are ways that Lum and Hawailans throughout the islands are keeping alive their culture. "Without a past, we have no future," she says.

AUTHENTIC EXPERIENCES

Big Island

Horseback rides. Paniolos (cowboys) and ranching are synonymous with old Hawaii. Na'alapa Stables has a guided, 2 1/2 hour ride at 8:30 A.M. ($75) and a 1 1/2-hour ride at 1 P.M. ($55). (808) 889-0022.

Mo'okini Luakini. A remote but significant heiau. Off State 270 about 7 miles past Lapakahi State Historical Park. Turn left just before Upolu Airport and drive 2 miles on the cinder road; the heiau is on a rise to the left. For more information, contact Mo'okini Luakini (Box 240125, Honolulu, HI 96824; 808/373-8000).

Pu'uhonua O Honaunau National Historical Park. This beautifully restored village and heiau on the southern Kona coast was once a place of refuge for kapu (law) breakers. 6 A.M.-8 P.M. Mon-Thu, 6 A.M.-11 P.M. Fri-Sun (visitor center 8-4 daily); $3, ages 16 and under free. 2 1/2 miles off State 11 on State 160; www.nps.gov/puho or (808) 328-2288.

Sailing canoe cruise. The Hahalua Lele (Flying Manta Ray) departs from the Fair. mont Orchid Hawaii, weather permitting. $95 per person for 2 hours. (808) 885-2000 ext. 7524.

Kauai:

Sweet success

Knife-edged peaks jab into the clouds on Kauai's lush north shore, combing down hundreds of inches of rain per year. The water spills in thin veils over sheer cliffs, then tumbles down deep, shaded valleys to the sea. Along this fertile watershed, now part of Limahuli Garden, early Hawaiians grew crops, such as taro, that they'd brought with them in their canoes from Polynesia.

Today the ancient terraced fields edged with black rock have been carefully restored. Up-slope from the farm site are natural areas where the garden's botanists are trying to protect native plants that grow nowhere else in the world.

"Most visitors expect to see orchids and tropicals here," says Chipper Wichman, the garden's director. "But this is a powerful place. It can show visitors what Hawaii is all about." The most important lessons are about sustainable farming and living in harmony with the native environment, points out Wichman. "On oceanic islands ... you have to learn how to live within the limits of the land."

But here on Kauai, as on other islands, waves of immigrants--starting with American missionaries in the early 1800s--quickly discovered the economic potential of one of the "canoe crops" brought by those first Hawaiians: sugarcane. By the 1860s, sugar had become the state's major product. Immigrants recruited from all over the world came by the boatload to help bring in the cane.

To find out how these immigrants changed the complexion and cultural makeup of the islands, I drive to Kauai's sunbaked southwestern shore, where the red earth flattens and spreads a broad, dry plain to the sea. Near Waimea, I head into Gay & Robinson Sugar Plantation, one of the state's two remaining mills. By offering tours, G & R is trying to preserve the sugar-plantation tradition and its rural lifestyle.

While we bounce over rutted dirt roads in a rattling van, our driver and tour guide, Wilfred Ibara, explains how sugar is grown and harvested. Clouds of red earth billow through a crack in the door and green cane stalks slap against the van's sides as he describes sugarcane's two-month ripening process, which culminates with burning the fields of leafy trash just before harvest. Stopping beside a pile of straw-colored canes in a newly burned field, Ibara motions us out of the van. He picks up a stalk, whacks at it with a machete, peels back the bark to expose the fiber, then hands us each a sliver. We suck out the sweet juice.

Conversation turns to Ibara and his family. His grandfather came from Japan to work the plantations and stayed. His father was a superintendent for Waimea Sugar Mill.

Ibara grew up with Hawaiian kids but admits that as a child he didn't notice a particularly Hawaiian culture. "Around the time Hawaii became a state, in 1959, culture for all of us was about fitting in and being American," he says. "It was only after the mills merged or closed and people began moving back to the land during the 1970s that native Hawaiians began reclaiming their culture."

Today Ibara lives in a cottage much like the one he grew up in. But as other plantation cottages become museum pieces, his is a way of life nearly vanished from Hawaii.

Continuing past the town of Waimea, I get a taste of plantation life by staying in one of 53 cottages that have been saved from demolition and restored. Set in a 27-acre coconut palm grove, they're part of Waimea Plantation Cottages, opened in 1996 on the grounds of the old Waimea Sugar Mill.

Here, I find the perfect place to soak up the ambience of bygone days and ponder the cultural mingling of Hawaii's many immigrants. From my veranda, a green lawn sweeps around a banyan tree, then gives way to wave-washed sand the color of chocolate. Across the lawn, another guest turns meat on a barbecue in front of his veranda. Each cottage is named for a plantation worker: Single-man, Samio, F. Ibara. Seeing them reminds me of something Leimomi Mo'okini Lum said: "We have so many races in Hawaii, we are like many-colored flowers in the lei."

AUTHENTIC EXPERIENCES

Kauai

Gay & Robinson Sugar Plantation. The best months to visit for a 2-hour plantation tour are March through November. 9 and 1 Mon-Fri; $30, $21 ages 7-12 (no infants or toddlers). Call for availability and arrive at least 15 minutes early. Off State 50, just past mile marker 19 near Waimea; www.gandrtours-kauai.com or (808) 335-2824.

Kauai Sunshine Market. At this open-air farmers' market, you can buy tropical flowers, as well as fresh, island-grown produce. 4:30 every Thu. Kilauea Neighborhood Center, Kilauea Lighthouse Rd. and Keneke St., Kilauea.

Limahuli Garden. The National Tropical Botanical Garden's north shore site, located 1/4 mile before Ke'e Beach near the western end of State 56, has guided and self-guided tours of the 3/4-mile loop trail (wear comfortable shoes). 9:30-4 Tue-Fri, Sun; guided tours $15 per person, ages 12 and under free (reservations required); self-guided tours $10, ages 12 and under free. www.ntbg.org or (808) 826-1053.

Oahu:

A lei of many flowers

The classic gateway to the islands, Honolulu reflects just how much has changed in Hawaii--and how much tradition endures. Visitors who love Kauai's quiet beauty and the Big Island's dramatic geography might argue that Honolulu doesn't represent "real" Hawaii, that the state's most cosmopolitan city is simply a mecca for tourists who want to soak up rays and ride the waves at Waikiki. That assumption is sorely out of date.

"Ten years ago, Hawaiians had a face but not a voice," says Clifford Nae'ole, president of the Native Hawaiian Hospitality Association and cultural advisor at the Ritz-Carlton, Kapalua, on Maui. It's my last night on Oahu and we're having dinner at The Willows, a Honolulu restaurant popular with locals. "We were lei greeters," Nae'ole continues. "Today we've got native Hawaiians in positions of leadership. That's good, because without Hawaiian culture, it's dooms-day for this place. The trick," he adds, "is to preserve our culture, yet walk in the Western world at the same time."

Tricky, indeed. Like any melting-pot society, this one keeps reinventing itself. Yet look beyond Waikiki's superficial glitter and you'll find a distinctive native Hawaiian influence, especially in contemporary music, cuisine, and art.

Take the humble ukulele, introduced to the islands by sugarcane workers from Portugal and promoted heavily .by Hawaii's last king, David Kalakaua. In recent decades, it had been relegated to tourist status in hotel lounge acts, but a 27-year-old Honolulu native is changing all that.

One evening at Chai's Island Bistro, I watched Jake Shimabukuro play "Crazy G" (in F) to a mesmerized audience. Fingers dancing with lightning speed, his whole body moving with the music; he coaxed from those strings the sounds of banjo, guitar, and harp all rolled into one--soft and sweet one moment, breathtakingly electric the next. This superstar is making a whole new generation of Hawaiians think of the ukulele differently--as an instrument of jazz, pop, and symphony "What I do with the ukulele goes beyond music," says Shimabukuro. "It's about feeling free to experiment with new sounds."

Hawaiian influences are also turning up in a new breed of restaurant that fuses local crops such as Kahuku corn and Maui onions with ingredients and flavors from the Pacific Rim--and beyond.

"Fresh produce and protein from small local farms are the heart and soul of contemporary cuisine in Hawaii," said Douglas Lum, executive chef at Honolulu's Mariposa. I caught up with Lum and his surfing buddy William Bruhl, also a chef, as they were about to hit the waves. Both support diversified agriculture and related island-based industries. But Lum is putting his own spin on regional cuisine. His lobster katsu--lobster tails breaded Japanese-style, fried, then served on a bouquet of Hawaiian baby greens with a Vietnamese mango-chili lime sauce--represents this coming together of flavors.

But nowhere are contemporary Hawaiian themes being more provocatively explored than in the work of island artists. One painting I saw in a show at the Honolulu Academy of Arts--Modern Times, by Chris Campbell--shows a young Hawaiian woman dressed in a red pareo, her black hair knotted atop her head to reveal a tattoo on one shoulder. She stands, hands on her hips, facing a large white canvas spattered with dark paint. To some, her stance might suggest pondering, or trying to make sense of it all. But to me it suggests more of an acceptance, a recognition that here--as with the ukulele-is something new she could embrace.

The painting raises another question: how can native Hawaiians preserve ancient traditions within the calabash of ideas and cultures that is contemporary Hawaii?

When I ask Nae'ole about this over dinner, he suggests we visit an old buddy. I almost laugh when we enter a lounge at the Waikiki Beachcomber Hotel and the buddy turns Out to be Don Ho, the silky-voiced crooner of "Tiny Bubbles" fame.

The lounge is dark and the stage awash in colored lights when Ho saunters out, banters with the audience, then introduces his daughter, Hoku, who perches on a stool and sings "Valentine." The song is Hollywood, but Hoku's voice, her face, and her smile are pure aloha, the music as lilting as Hawaiian slack-key guitar.

Ho comes back onstage, spots Nae'ole in the audience, and asks Nae'ole to join him onstage. The pair sing together in Hawaiian like long-lost brothers, delighting in a moment together. Then Nae'ole--a member of Maui's only all-male hula halau (school)--performs a chant in Hawaiian about the ancient navigator Hawai'i Loa, whose destiny it was to follow the path of the fish to the new land. Both men bring down the house.

In a few heartbeats, Don Ho's lounge act has gone from 1960s nostalgia to contemporary pop to an 800-year-old chant. Nae'ole's answer to my question is clear: For more than 200 years, Hawaiians have adapted to changing economies and have borrowed from other cultures, but somehow they have managed to keep intact the traditions they treasure. More important, the people of these islands seem willing to share their Hawaii with those who take the time to look for it.

Nae'ole drops me at my hotel, but instead of going in, I walk along the beach, shoes in hand. Gazing at a crescent moon that casts a silver path across the water, I'm reminded of what is real to me about this place, from abundant natural beauty to the easy warmth of locals who call out to one another in the darkness. "See ya, brah, malama pono." Take care of your spirit.

I toss aside my shoes and wade deeper into the water as fireworks splash the sky over Waikiki with shimmering light. The water is warm, delicious, a tonic. I have no idea what time it is, but it doesn't matter. I'm living aloha.

AUTHENTIC EXPERIENCES

Oahu

Bishop Museum at Kalia Tower. A new branch of the Bishop Museum offers an overview of Waikiki's history and the people who shaped it. 9-5 daily; $9.95, $7.95 ages 4-12. Hilton Hawaiian Village: 2005 Kalia Rd.; www.bishopmuseum.org or (808) 947-2458. The main branch is at 1525 Bernice St., Honolulu; (808) 847-3511.

Hawaii State Art Museum. This new museum's inaugural exhibit, Enriched by Diversity: The Art of Hawai'i, features the works of 284 artists with such themes as Hawaiian heritage and inspiration of land and sea. 10-4 Tue-Sat; free. No. 1 Capitol District Building, 250 S. Hotel St., second floor. Honolulu; www.state.hi.us/sfca or (808) 586-0900.

Hawaiian Fire Surf School. Started by three Honolulu firefighters, classes are day trips to a beach where surf is gentle. From $97 (picnic and hotel pickup included). www.hawaiianfire.com or (808) 384-8855.

Honolulu Academy of Arts. Built in 1927, this museum houses some of the state's best art collections. 10-4:30 Tue-Sat, 1-5 Sun; $7, ages 12 and under free. 900 S. Beretania St., Honolulu; www.honoluluacademy.org or (808) 532-8701.

Waikiki Historic Trail. Surfboard-shaped markers designate 23 historic sites. Walk it yourself (2 miles) or take a tour. Tours 9 A.M. Mon-Sat; free (call for information on where tours begin). www.waikikihistorictrail.com or (808) 841-6442.

Where to stay, where to eat

Following are lodging and dining suggestions for the Big Island, Kauai, and Oahu. For a travel planner for the state of Hawaii, contact the Hawaii Visitors and Convention Bureau (www.gohawaii.com or 800/464-2924).

Big Island

DINING

Huggo's. A large, open waterfront lanai where dinner includes island-raised lobster and other Pacific Rim-inspired dishes, Come early to watch the sun set over the water. Lunch and dinner weekdays, dinner weekends. 75-5828 Kahakai Rd., Kailua-Kona; (808) 329-1493.

Kahua Ranch. Evening barbecues at a working cattle ranch in the Kohala Mountains. Tue, Thu, Sat; $89 (includes transportation from Waikoloa); reservations required. (808) 987-2108 or www.eveningatkahua.com.

Merriman's Restaurant. Beyond the open dining room, chef Peter Merriman turns organically grown local produce into dishes like three-spice duck taco and Waimea greens with Mauna Kea goat cheese. Dinner nightly 65-1227 Opelo Rd., Kamuela; (808) 885-6822.

LODGING

Holualoa Inn. Upslope from Kailualona, this coffee plantation has six rooms. From $175 (includes full breakfast). 76-5932 Mamalahoa Hwy, Holualoa; www.holualoainn.com or (808) 324-1121.

Jacaranda Inn. Built in 1897 for the former manager of Parker Ranch, this quiet, charming B&B on the edge of rolling ranchlands has a cottage and eight rooms whose names--Iris, Passion Flower, Hibiscus--hint at their decor. From $95. 65-1444 Kawaihae Rd., Waimea; www.jacarandainn.com or (808) 885-8813.

Kona Village Resort. Thatched, freestanding cottages (125 units), many with hammocks between palms, are scattered around expansive grounds on beaches, lagoons, and lava fields. Old Hawaii ambience. From $505 (meals included). West of State 19 at Ka'upulehu; www.konavillage.com or (800) 367-5290.

Kauai

DINING

Bamboo Bamboo. In this stylish restaurant, open to an outdoor veranda, fresh local fare includes salads of Hanalei-grown organic greens and fish specials. For lunch, taro burgers are yummy. Lunch Tue--Sun, dinner nightly. In Hanalei Center Hanalei; (808) 826-1177.

LODGING

Hanalei Colony Resort. A small cluster of rustic two-story buildings and a pool on remote but beautiful Kepuhi Beach. All condos have two bedrooms, kitchen, bath, living room, and covered porch (no phones or TV). Best rooms are on the point with ocean views. From $180. About 5 miles west of Hanalei. 5-7130 Kuhio Hwy; www.hcr.com or (800) 628-3004.

Waimea Plantation Cottages. Refurbished plantation cottages nestle among palms on a pretty but unswimmable beach. All have kitchens and pool access. From $180. 9400 Kaumuali'i Hwy Waimea; www.astonhotels.com, (800) 922-7866, or (808) 338-1625.

Kilauea Lakeside Estate. Secluded house with kitchen, family room, and three bedrooms on a private lagoon surrounded by gardens. Great place to splurge on a honeymoon or family reunion. $495 per night ($750 per night in summer and on holidays). In Kilauea, toward the mountains from State 56; www.kauaihoneymoon.com or (310) 379-7842.

Oahu

All listings are in Honolulu.

DINING

Alan Wong's Restaurant. Chef Wong continually reinvents his menu yet serves some of the state's most creatively cuttingedge dishes, such as opihi (a type of limpet) shooters, an appetizer. Dinner nightly. 1857 S. King St.; (808) 949-2526.

Chai's Island Bistro. Hear Jake Shimabukuro, the Cazimero brothers, and other local favorites nightly as you dine on chef-owner Chai Chaowasaree's sumptuous Thai/Pacific Rim cuisine. Aloha Tower Marketplace, 1 Aloha Tower Dr.; (808) 585-0011.

Kaka'ako Kitchen. Hawaiian-style "gourmet plate lunch" eatery where you order indoors and eat outdoors on a patio. Try the crispy fried sweet chili chicken plate with brown rice and Waimanalo greens. 7 A.M.-9 P.M. (until 10 Fri-Sat, until 5 Sun). Ward Centre, 1200 Ala Moana Blvd.; (808) 596-7488.

Mariposa. Chef Douglas Lum serves up flavorful dishes such as oven-roasted saikyo salmon with yuzu-soy vinaigrette in his inviting Pacific-themed dining room. Go at lunch for ocean views, followed by an afternoon of great shopping. Lunch Mon-Sat, brunch Sun, dinner daily. In Neiman Marcus (third level), Ala Moana Center, 1450 Ala Moana Blvd.; (808) 951-3420.

Sam Choy's Diamond Head. Serving Hawaiian regional cuisine, this restaurant is where TV chef Sam Choy serves seafood laulau (steamed in ti leaves) and fried poke. Dinner nightly 449 Kapahulu Ave.; (808) 732-8645.

The Willows. Tropical ambience (waterfalls, pond, koa canoe) enhances this open-air Oahu classic. Locals love the poke and curry; arrive early at the bar for pupus (Wed--Fri nights) and Kona-brewed lilikoi wheat ale on draft. Lunch and dinner buffet daily. 901 Hausten St.; (808) 952-9200.

LODGING

Aston Waikiki Beach Hotel. With its name spelled out on lime green surfboards and giant tiki torches blazing nightly, this 716-room hotel takes fun, kitschy Hawaiiana "to da max," thanks to a $30 million makeover. Decor is tropical and so vividly colorful, you may need sunglasses to ae. From $150. 2570 Kalakaua Ave., wwwastonhotels. com or (800) 922-7866.

W Honolulu Diamondhead. Ultrachic 49-room hotel near the foot of Diamondhead has an understated Asian decor. From $400. 2885 Kalakaua Ave.; www whoteiscom or (808) 922-1700.

PUPUS AND MUSIC

Kapono's. Music on an open-air stage varies nightly from jazz and "island contemporary" to Hawaiian slack key. 1 Aloha Tower; (808) 537-9611.

Don Ho. Hawaii's living legend performs Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays. Dinner and show (7PM. seating) $52, cocktail and show (7:45 PM. seating) $32. Waikiki Beachcomber Hotel, 2300 Kalakaua Ave.; www.donho. (877) com or (877) 693-6646.

Waikiki Beach Marriott Resort. Legendary singer Auntie Genoa Keawe sings Hawaiian favorites on the Moana Terrace. 5:30-8:30 Thu. 2552 Kalakaua Ave.; (808) 922-6611.

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