Reflections: Terry Reveira

Reflecting back on all of my experiences I had traveling to, while staying there and heading home, all have changed my perception of this place and of my role in caring for the resources found there.
The week prior to heading traveling was very chaotic. I had to balance my job and family and I almost said, “Forget it, I can not go, there is no way”. But with encouragement (mahalo Ann Bell and friends) I knew this would be a life changing experience. So, I packed up and got on the plane to Honolulu and when I got there I tried to let go of my job and home life to focus on this trip.
When Saturday came and we boarded the plane to travel to the islands and sanctuary (Pu’uhonua) I was full of excitement and awe, I kept trying to press my nose up against the plane window to see the ocean and any of the islands that we were flying over. It did not work, but when the sun was setting it was amazing and shining through the front window of the plane. This was when thoughts of the island came to me and a song was given to me. I am always amazed when this happens and I think which kupuna or kuku is sharing with me this song or is it just me and because my love of this place and history shining through.
The song came to me in Hawaiian and though I am only a conversational speaker of Hawaiian language, many times it provides a more in depth meaning in the words than English does. So, I wrote it down as it came and the feeling was very heavy (kaumaha) and my tears also flowed when the meaning of the song came to me. I tried to write the English meaning but it does not come through the same. In the song I see the Albatross taking off and flying, soaring through the skys and in their heart is the compelling feeling of finding food for their young. I see them returning to the island and searching for their young, the young calling out to their parents and their parents feeding them the nourishment they need to survive. I feel the sadness in knowing that they are also feeding poisons to their young and the result is death from the plastics. Then I see the young ready to leave and they have the strong feeling to fly up and away but they are afraid, and so they follow the other older birds. Once, they are up in the sky they receive the knowledge to fly to where the food is and then receive the amazing feeling of being apart of a plan of nature that continues each year, it is generational. The cycle starts again, but the young must find their way back home each year to keep the cycle strong and the family strong. This also speaks to me of the need to care and teach our young the same values and providing them with the “food” to connect to their source and return after they leave back home to care for the land and ocean and start the cycle for their children the next generation. We also need to watch for the “poisons and plastics” that they are being feed each day. These need to be cut off so they can again hear, see and feel the need of the land and ocean.
So that was my beginning and introduction to Papahanaumokuakea, a feeling of awe, aloha, amazement and connection before I even landed.
When I landed and stepped of the plane a wave of feelings overwhelmed me, a feeling of coming home, of welcome from my ancestors who traveled through this area, I could feel their happiness that I was there to connect and learn and to carry the message of malama to others. As I walked out the door of the plane I could not see much, it was dark but my other senses kicked in and I could “smell” the birds and plants and the ocean. It was all good and I smiled, I was here, I had made it to Papahanaumokuakea, Aloha mai.
Each morning, I awoke with a smile knowing I was there and anticipating what we would learn each day. Each night and day, I would be out late walking, talking to the birds and connecting with the island. As visitors we had a agenda to follow and classes to go to. This was fine, but many times my focus was out with the birds, on the trails and at the ocean. I wish I had more time to just sit, feel, connect with the island. As a Hawaiian this is very important to me to link to the past and the “kumu” or source the island and ocean. This helps me understand the story of the land and ocean and the change that took place here the shaped what the island looks like today and to think what is missing, what is hewa (wrong out of place).
I do not want to write forever, so I will share a few of the events that stood out to me. One was being with some amazing people who had the same love for the land, ocean and animals. Who had the same drive and excitement to wake up each day at dawn and go to sleep late at night to try to suck in all of the experiences each day. Also, the community on the island were great every day they welcomed us, so that we felt like “locals” and were soon acting as such.
One thing that stands out in my mind was the birds. Each day when I got up and got on my bike (which I loved), I would stop and talk to the young birds and the parents. The young would look at you with such trusting eyes and touched my na’au (gut or soul). It made a weight in my na’au to know and see the birds die. The longer we stayed the more our eyes began to focus on the story of the birds and island. In life, along with the happy there is the sad, it is the lokahi or balance. The sad part of the story is the role that people play in the story of how we impact our oceans and land by our “instant” lifestyle and the use of plastics.
One day a bird would make little noises to say hello or where are my parents I am hungry. The next day the same bird stops making noises, and the next the bird can not lift its wings until finally we find it has passed on to a new place. Like the birds whose stomachs are filling with plastic, my na’au is filling with stones of sadness and the need to tell the story to get others to care. It is sad that the young birds get a feeling of being full from plastic, they do not know it is a false feeling without nourishment to live on. What else can we do to help them? They continue to watch us with trusting eyes each day.
So each day I visited as much as the island that I could but always felt drawn to the east side of the island, the side that my ancestors came from and traveled past and maybe stopped to get water and food as the continued looking for a new home to sustain their people. Many loved the ocean and swimming under the pier, but I loved just being there and discovering new places, plants and animals. I loved introducing myself to each place and making a commitment to each others and share the story of Pihemanu and the other islands. To help them to connect and understand the trust that the young birds give to us is a challenge to us, a challenge to make good what we have polluted.
I thank all those who encouraged me to take this trip. What I learned and gained has changed me. The feeling in my na’au is heavy and will not be lifted until I share the stories, songs and feeling of Papahanaumokuakea to help them to care and carry on the story and songs to others. In this way we can make a difference and change our lifestyles that affect others. My last day I went to ocean to say good bye, my eyes filled with tears again of sadness again as a short oli (chant) came to mind of the love and care of the ocean and land and of farewells. A hui hou (until next time) I said and turned and left.
Thank you everyone, I hope my journal and thoughts will help you gain a new feeling of Papahanaumokuakea and want to be involved of the care of such amazing place, a place of my ancestors. I also hope each of you will take the weight of the pohaku (rock) and tell your stories to lighten the load and create a aumoana (ocean current) to help the birds, land and ocean heal.
Mahalo ke akua, na kumu, na kupuna, ko’u ohana ame hoaalohaa a pau,
Terry Leianuenue Reveira