Six members of the Shibuya-Dayanan family gathered together for a small family reunion at Kualakai-White Plains Beach in September 2012. Barbara Shibuya, one of the younger members of the family, coordinated the opportunity for the interview to take place. While a 33-year difference in ages between the eldest interviewee (born 1933) to the youngest (born 1966) existed, the interviewees shared strong familial connections, and memories with elders who have now passed on. The family kindly shared detailed information covering the lowlands of Honouliuli, from the Honouliuli taro lands and Ewa Plantation Camps to the waters of inland Puuloa and the southern shore of Honouliuli, in the region of Ewa Beach, Oneula, Kiku, and Kualakai-White Plains.
During the interview, participants discussed a wide range of topics, including, but not limited to, the following:
• Plantation life was hard, but fondly remembered. Plantation camps, including those where Japanese, Filipinos, and other nationalities lived, were centered around the Ewa Mill and extended into the former Honouliuli taro lands. The Hawaiian camp was in the vicinity of the present-day railroad center.
• Family fished the lochs of Puuloa and the outer Honouliuli coastline. Kuhonu crabs, oysters, limu and fish were gathered or caught. The elder Zoilo Dayanan observed the Hawaiian custom of always giving an offering of the day’s catch back to the ocean, and instructed his own children to do the same.
• Kiku Point (between Oneula and White Plains) was one of the significant fishing grounds visited by the family.
• Limu collected included manauea (ogo) and lipoa. The younger generation was always taught to pick carefully, leaving the roots in the reef for future growth. In their lifetime, they have noticed a significant decline in limu, and attribute the decline to various nationalities that have come in and taken without respect.
• These same practices of respect for the ocean were observed on the land. The elder Zoilo Dayanan had a couple acres of sugar land in Honouliuli that he worked (sort of as a share crop), and before each harvest time, he and his wife would prepare offerings, which would be left in the field when harvest was finished. The family members observed that their Tatai always had the sweetest sugarcane of all the patches.
• While the family members did not recall hearing traditions of the larger Honouliuli region, they all knew of the night marchers and the need to be respectful of place.
• Residents of the Oneula-Hau Bush and Kiku vicinity are named and activities described, with recollections of the former piggeries, chicken farm, and many outings in the region.
Interviewees Jose Dayanan (JD), Roxanne Marie Tagama (RT), Barbara Shibuya (BaS), Mona Shibuya (MS), and Janice Trinidad (JT)
Interviewers Kepa Maly (KM) with Onaona Maly (OM)
Place Kualakai – White Plains
Date September 17, 2012
Transcribed by Leimomi Morgan, April 14, 2014
KM: We’re gonna just talk story and I should go, if I could, just to get background so I can hear voices, I should start with the oldest, go to the youngest. Just so I hear your name, when born, so that I can hear your voice, okay? So uncle, you the oldest?
JD: Um hum.
KM: Could you please, what’s your full name?
JD: Well my full name Jose Dayanan.
JD: I been born in Ewa, September 3, 1933.
JD: Yeah. And I been working for the Ewa Plantation through many years.
JD: Well that’s over, but after high school.
KM: Yes, yes. Wonderful.
KM: Uncle, do me a favor please. Spell your last name for me.
JD: Dayanan. D-A-Y-A-N-A-N.
KM: Oh, okay, okay. Oh, good. Tell me real quickly. Your parents were from here or did they come?
JD: Oh, they’re from the Philippines.
KM: Okay. Sakada, then? When did, Papa them must have come what in the ’20s? or early ’30s? Do you know?
JD: The ’20s.
KM: ’20s maybe.
JD: Well, I was born 1933.
KM: Yes, so very early. Did your father come to work at the plantation here?
JD: Yeah, they said at the beginning.
KM: Oh wow…
JD: They were cutting cane when I was young. But the plantation did not brought up right.
JD: From all of the labor…
KM: …all of the labor of the people who worked the land.
JD: Even my mom, too, was working…
KM: Really? Wow.
JD: …the plantation.
KM: Did both of your parents come from the Philippines?
JD: [unintelligible]… Philippines.
KM: What area? Do you remember?
JD: From Cebu.
KM: Cebu, oh, okay.
JD: So, from there they came down Hawaii.
KM: Yes. They came very early, because…
JD: They were the first ones.
KM: Yeah, among that first group, yeah?
JD: Yeah. First group, yeah.
KM: Yeah, because then in 1946 the HSPA brought a bigger group, yeah. Sakada, about 6,000 came. But your parents were early, because if you were born out here in ’33…
JD: Yeah, so they must came around the ’16 or ’20…
KM: Yeah. 1920-ish. Sorta there.
JD: Yeah, there. Right, right.
RT: Yeah, grandma was born 1908.
JD: Yeah, yeah. Right there.
KM: Your mama?
KM: His mama, your grandmother?
KM: Wow, okay, wonderful.
JD: Yeah, could be around there.
KM: What was your father’s full name?
JD: Ah… Zoilo Dayanan.
KM: Okay. And mama?
ID/RT: Juana Astacaan.
KM: Okay, oh, thank you. So we talked, so this is your niece, here?
KM: And you’re next in age?
RT: Down, yeah.
KM: Okay. Please, would you mind sharing your full name, date of birth?
RT: Date of birth and my name?
KM: Sure, and we should have your maiden name also.
RT: Um, Roxanne Marie Tagama.
RT: I’m the oldest of three of my siblings, right here. And, I was born and raised in Ewa, which was then called Fernandez Village.
RT: Fernandez Village.
KM: Oh, I’m sorry.
RT: Fernandez Village. That’s the house right on the front of Renton Road.
KM: Okay. So…
RT: Because I’ve been there…
KM: So, Renton, and…?
RT: Just Renton on Fort Weaver, no?
KM: So right on Renton and Fort Weaver?
JD: They used to have the Filipino Camp before.
KM: That was the Filipino Camp?
RT: We were called the Filipino Camp.
JD: That’s, you know where the graveyard is? Those were the… those were the camp.
KM: Yes! So by the Catholic church? Is that where? Was the church there?
RT: That was called Fernandez. We had a lower village. Which my mom and my step-dad lived with my siblings. And that the part of the old Ewa Hospital, which no longer exists.
KM: Yes, yes.
RT: And then we had a Korean camp, which was behind Fernandez Village.
KM: So behind Fernandez, mauka? Waianae?
RT: Ahh, mauka.
KM: Mauka. So, towards the up section, then?
KM: Korean Village? Korean Camp?
RT: That was Korean Camp. Why it was named that, I really don’t know.
KM: No more Koreans at that time?
JD: Oh, used to have.
RT: Had Filipino!
KM: Ohh. Well you know, it must have started because when Ewa Plantation started in 1890, that’s when they originally founded, yeah, 1890 as I understand.
JD: Yeah, they had all that…
KM: That’s right. So they had different. Japanese, then Korean came, and then the Filipino came.
RT: Yeah, we had a lot, I mean. And we also had C Village.
RT: C Village where the piggery was.
KM: Oh… where was that?
RT: Right in front of Varona Village.
RT: Yeah Varona Village. Banana Camp they used to call it, now. It’s still there.
BaS: I could take you riding one day.
KM: Oh, that would be great.
RT: But the village no longer exists.
BaS: It’s there, it’s there, but, people live there.
RT: People called it Banana Camp.
KM: Was there a reason?
RT: But Banana Camp versus C Village was opposite end.
BaS: Had a lot of bananas.
KM: I see.
RT: Where Varona Village still exists, but C Village is no longer there.
BaS: Yeah, that’s not there anymore.
KM: Leveled out, or are there houses there now?
RT: Leveled out. And behind C Village, my parents used to live was called Mendonca Farm. And that little village consists of maybe 5 houses and a long building, you remember that?
BaS: Leland said that that was a horse, where they used to keep horses, yeah.
KM: Oh, the Stable Camp?
RT: Yeah. That’s why it was long.
BaS: That’s why it would look like what it looked like inside.
RT: Who owned that, Mendoncas?
xx: Mendonca’s had one, two, three. Three sections.
KM: Really? Ohh…
RT: Yeah. And my mom and my dad lived, we went in circles around there.
BaS: Oh, yeah. We lived all over Ewa, honestly.
BaS: Lower Camp had the best view, but.
KM: Which view?
BaS: Lower Camp.
RT: That’s where the keiki, family keiki center.
RT: Okay, right across the street there’s like a hill. And that’s where we used to live.
KM: Oh, so the one right on the main Fort Weaver Road now.
RT/BaS: Yes. You remember when the big tree standing in the middle of nowhere? They claimed that they can’t cut the tree down because they hear babies crying. So that’s why that big tree is still there.
KM: And sorry, was that connected with the hospital area, or not?
RT: No, because, what village was it I just said?
BaS: Lower Village.
RT: Yeah, Lower Village. But of course the hill brings you up there. And then the old Ewa Plantation Hospital was here, and if you go up Lower Village all the way to the tip, because there was a dead end. When you overlook the fence that’s called Chocolate Beach.
RT: Chocolate Beach, where we went crabbing there. In our younger…
BaS: I could take you back there, too.
RT: Yeah, it’s different.
KM: You know, we’re gonna have to try and find, I’m sorry, usually I come and I bring maps to places. But, I couldn’t find any old Ewa Plantation maps, so I gotta try look around because that would be good. Like when you’re talking about Filipino Camp, Korean Camp, must have had Japanese Camp somewhere?
Group: Yeah. Tenney Village was Japanese Camp.
KM: I’m sorry, Tenney?
RT: T-E-N-N-E-Y. That’s where I live still.
KM: Oh. So that was Japanese Village?
BaS: Yeah, used to have a lot of Japanese families.
KM: Was Tenney one of the managers or something?
RT: No, was Ed Bryan.
Group: [discusses managers’ names]
BaS: Yeah, they were like the luna, kind.
KM: Ohh. Yeah, because I think I’ve heard the name Tenney.
JD: Yeah, James Orrick, too… Yeah? The manager.
RT: See, hence Orrick Street, yeah, Bond Street…
KM: James Orrick?
JD: Yeah, James Orrick.
xx: It’s a Bond, we have a Bond Street.
RT: Imelda, I don’t know where Imelda Marcos came from but we have…
xx: That’s in Fernandez.
RT: Filipino Village.
KM: Yes, yes. How interesting.
RT: Even Renton Road.
KM: What was Renton Road?
BaS: It’s named after somebody, one of the workers.
KM: Oh, it’s not a military person?
KM: Oh really, so it’s older? I just assumed, like so many of the ones, they took it over made military names.
BaS: No, not Ewa. Not Ewa.
KM: Ohh, so really, Ewa Plantation, now where the old mill was is where the district park area is, the new building now, right, basically? So, from there, you folks stretched, the camp stretched…
RT: All the way out…
BaS: To where the choochoo-trains are at.
KM: To the trains?
RT: By the railway.
RT: Hawaiian Camp.
KM: You said there’s Hawaiian Camp?
RT: Hawaiian Camp. Because they used to be the workers for the railroad.
JD: Right, right.
RT: And that used to be all Hawaiian families.
KM: Wow, interesting.
RT: Yeah, only Hawaiian families lived there.
xx: I could get you to speak to someone, that would be Gaelic them.
KM: Ohh, interesting. I will try, if I can find you folks some old maps to plantation, how it was laid out, it would be really beautiful because you know, all these things you’re talking about, it’s so nice when we can mark it on the maps and then actually commit it to a place, yeah?
Group: Umm hum [in agreement].
KM: How interesting. But at least you guys know what the modern stuff is.
RT: She knows a lot.
RT: She’s old that’s why! [laughing]
KM: And sorry, actually did, I don’t know think you shared with me your date of birth?
RT: July 13, 1955.
KM: Ohh, okay.
RT: I was born in the Ewa Plantation Hospital.
KM: Okay. Just like uncle? Uncle, too, was born there?
xx: She [gesturing to xx] was too!
RT: I was one of the last.
Sisters: We were, I was born in Wahiawa.
Sisters: I was born in Wahiawa General also.
Sisters: But that hospital was, even when we got World War II attack, my aunty was working there. Aunty Booning and I think she saw one of the planes or something?
KM: Aunty Booning?
RT: Yeah, she’s gone though. He’s [gesturing to uncle] the last surviving one.
KM: Ohh, interesting…
KM: So, I take it, you next?
xx: No me, this one.
KM: Oh, I’m so sorry!
MS: That’s okay!
RT: They’re only one year apart.
RT: They travel together.
MS: So you need the name?
KM: Please, name and date of birth.
MS: Mona Claire Aiko Shibuya, October 7, 1958.
KM: Okay now, what’s your connection here?
MS: We’re sisters [with RT].
KM: So how did you come up?
MS: I’m divorced, that’s my maiden name.
KM: I’m sorry, yes. But you have a Japanese middle name.
MS: ’Cause I’m Japanese.
MS: Yeah, same mother.
RT: Different father.
KM: Yeah, I see. Okay, it’s just, so you were born in ’57?
KM: So even by that time it’s kind of unusual, particularly for Japanese to marry Filipino.
RT: To inter-marry.
MS: Yeah, to marry.
KM: You know, even on Lanai it was. When I was in school on Japanese, the parents never like the girl go with one haole boy.
Group: Yeah, yeah.
MS: It was so hard.
JD: Before, it was a land trust.
MS: We felt the difference.
RT: Especially within the Pearl Harbor.
JD: Ohh, yeah. [laughing]
KM: Ohh, and you said 1958, but you were born up Wahiawa Hospital, then?
MS: Wahiawa General.
MS: For whatever reason, mom and dad, I don’t know.
KM: Yeah. But Ewa [Plantation] was still open because you were the youngest?
RT: Yeah, I was born there [in 1955].
KM: Well you know, you brought up an interesting point when you mentioned that people talk about, where was it, where they hear babies cry? The tree and they don’t like?
MS: It’s right there…
KM: It’s by the child support…?
MS: Yeah, when you go down, there’s this tree. It’s just the tree just in the middle standing in nowhere.
JD: That’s a landmark. [laughing]
KM: Yes. It is interesting because we know that in the earlier days, particularly through the ’50s, but before, there was a very high infant mortality rate on the plantations. There were some good doctors, but there were some, you know, and families often said, “It wasn’t until so-and-so came that finally our babies started living.” So, it’s interesting, you know that every child that was born in a plantation hospital is a survivor.
Group: Umm hum… [in agreement]
KM: That survived that.
MS: Well, my uncle them, in the old plantation graveyard. They have two brothers there. What did they die of uncle? Feliciano and… pneumonia. And they were babies, too, right?
RT: Yeah, they were 2 and 3 years old.
KM: So that’s in the old graveyard that’s on Fort Weaver?
RT: Our grandfather is in there, too.
MS: Yeah, his [indicating Jose] dad.
KM: Now, forgive my ignorance again. Catholic church, there was a Catholic cemetery, is that correct? Or not, was that plantation?
MS: No, plantation.
KM: Okay, but where was the church relative to that? Close by?
MS: Still there, still there.
RT: We had only one church.
KM: Okay, so that’s right in the camp, then?
JD: It’s still there, still there.
MS: Immaculate Conception is the Catholic church, and then Ewa Community is the Christian church.
KM: Ohh, okay.
MS: Right next to Ewa Elementary and the two churches.
KM: Yes. Ohh.
JT: But didn’t they have another Catholic Church by Honouliuli and they grew too big and that’s why they went build Ewa Church?
RT: That must be years ago.
KM: There is a history of an older one, you are correct. At Honouliuli there was a Catholic lot, but that lot was actually awarded… By the 1850s it’s already there.
MS: Ho, that’s a long time.
KM: And so that predated the plantation. When the plantation came, all of this, back then it was only a few Hawaiians who were being Catholics. But when the plantation came, particularly with the Filipino influx, yeah, it built up so they created interest. So you’re absolutely right, by what used to be the taro lands, all at Honouliuli.
JT: But then I think the Catholic church also purchased property there, in Honouliuli, that’s where our new church supposed to go.
KM: Oh really?
JT: But right now it’s still…
JT: Yeah. I’m not sure.
KM: I wonder if it’s on the same land, or if they bought new land. Interesting. That’s actually old, there was old land for the church at one point.
JT: By the golf course area.
KM: So please, give me your full name and date of birth.
JT: My name is Janice Kiyoko Shibuya Trinidad, born January 2, 1960.
KM: And, Barbara [Shibuya], you’re the baby of the whole family.
BaS: Um hum.
KM: Okay, when were you born?
BaS: March 25, 1966.
KM: Ohh, wow, big spread, yeah?
BaS: I know, that’s why they used to make any kine to me.
BaS: Yeah, beat me up, everything. [laughing]
KM: Lots of love, lots of love. [laughing]
RT: It’s just the way she is cause she was just spoiled rotten.
BaS: That’s okay. It’s all good.
KM: That’s what they all say, it’s like you guys started, no more new clothes, did you have rice bag undergarments or stuff like that?
MS: Oh, we all have stories.
BaS: I was blessed, I nice, nice clothes! They had the puka panties, not me!
RT: Holy smoke! I’m not gonna say anything about our underwear because we’re being recorded!
MS: Nobody’s gonna hear it, right?
KM: Oh, no, this is for you folks.
MS: Yeah, he can say it ’cause it’s for us! He’s not gonna go public. And even if he does with it, somewhere down the road, it’ll leave a legacy for the ones we leave behind! [laughing]
KM: Kids don’t realize how lucky they are now!
RT: When we were growing up, ’cause my mom and my dad was working, and I had my three sisters, being her that the youngest, I don’t recall, but what I used to do is put this one [Barbara] in the middle and all us three would jump around the bed, if ever she fell down, and I got good lickens.
BaS: See, and that’s why, I’m a receptionist only ’cause they abused me!
BaS: Tell ’um about duyan, they don’t know what is a duyan.
RT: Oh, it’s like a little baby hammock that’s laid out on a rice bag. And it’s attached to the wall, to the corner, like this, like a hammock. And then what my grandmother used to do is tie one end, strong, then I would put the pillow in and put her in…
BaS: And whip me around.
RT: And just because I was tired, and she wouldn’t go to sleep, I would tie the rope… [gestures pulling]
BaS: You guys are crazy! [laughing] No, but it makes the baby go to sleep.
KM: Yeah, of course! Yes, yes.
BaS: And today it’s called “Shaken Baby Syndrome!”
Group: Yeah, duyan.
RT: It was made out of rice bag.
RT: It was strong.
KM: Well of course, plenty guys had garments made out of rice bags, yeah?
JD: Yeah, at those days.
JD: Yeah, used for shorts.
RT: And then what happened is his younger brother, when he was young, he was really naughty. He’s no longer here with us.
RT: And he was saying that one day, our grandpa told him to do something, he didn’t listen, well his friends now came, called him, “Patoy! Let’s go play!” My grandpa said, “No.” You know what my grandpa did, put dress on him, that was our mom’s dress. And he went to the window and he said, “I no can, I get dress!”
RT: I said, “Wow!”
KM: You have one of two choices, either he never did it again, or he like wearing dresses!
MS: He never did it again!
RT: His pants got burned by a cigarette… you know the Pake store, in the back?
RT: It was in somebody’s garage. And I guess, he went to the store, ’cause he was sent there to go buy something, according to him, and he liked. ’Cause he would pick the buds on the ground. And he did not know that my grandpa was coming, and he saw my grandpa, he said he put the cigarette in, and it started to smoke out. Funny, he was dancing.
KM: So, you mentioned the store, so in your camp, did you have like sometime, did men go around the camp?
RT: Yes. We had a peddler.
KM: So, the peddler would go and…?
RT: Right, but this particular store, was built in someone’s garage, and the one who ran that store, he was Chinese.
RT: Yeah, Mau.
xx: Then the son took over.
MS: Because the father passed away.
KM: So did you folks have, you know, do you remember, uncle, you had bango?
JD: Yeah. Right, right, right.
MS: Yeah, they all had bango.
KM: So that’s how you had to, you would go sign.
JD: You use it for charge.
RT: Even Ewa Store.
KM: Was it by…
Group: By the Post Office.
JT: Friendship Bible has taken over the building.
JT: Yeah, that was the best store. They had the best barbeque meat, baloney…
MS: Yeah, you could buy fresh meat there. You could choose what meat, it’s not pre-packaged. So you could say, I want one pound of hamburger, one pound of barbeque meat, you know.
RT: All kinds.
MS: I miss that.
BaS: Yeah, and when we had parties, if we had pigs, they would let our father hang our pigs in there.
JT: Yeah, in the back room.
JT: You could buy the biggest block of ice, for a quarter!
KM: Did you folks still have ice box, or you had regular refrigerator?
MS: Oh, that’s only for parties. To hang our pig and they would get it in the morning. I miss those days, I reminisce…
KM: You miss those days, yeah? In the plantation days, when you were young, were the camps sort of isolated, like Filipinos stay here, Japanese there…?
KM: So, there was kind of a separation between the groups?
BaS: Yeah, even until when I was growing up, my boyfriend that I’m dating now, we grew up together, but like I said, he moved away, came back 27 years later. He knew that I came from the Japanese Camp, and like I was off limits. Yeah.
JT: We couldn’t walk a certain street in Ewa, because that would be the luna’s homes. And I remember my dad saying, “Don’t walk down this certain street.” But me and my sister walked down that street because that street had so much shade! And then, my dad got a call, well they went to his site, and they knew whose child, we belonged to, who’s your parents. And then my dad said, “Don’t you guys walk down that street,” cause somebody turned us in.
KM: Amazing. Even in the 1960s. Who was the manager then, do you remember?
MS: Ed Bryan.
JD: No, had Orrick. Orrick, too.
MS: But, I know Mr. Ed Bryan. I didn’t know the other one.
KM: Orrick was earlier?
JD: That’s right, when one of the old managers died, Bryan came.
MS: Ohh. Orrick and then Bryan.
JD: Yeah, James Orrick.
KM: Yeah, James Orrick? Wow.
JD: Yeah, before.
KM: Wow, it’s so interesting how the sugar plantation was actually much more strict about that, than on Lana‘i.
JD: Yeah, they’re all really different. Really different.
KM: Different camp, different village. Were there even different stores, like you know, Filipinos shopped at this store, Japanese shopped there?
RT: No, no, it was just the good old, Ewa Shopping Basket.
KM: Ewa Shopping Basket. So that was…
MS: Well had Murata Store.
RT: Oh, that’s right. We forgot about Murata Store. That was called Honouliuli Shokai.
KM: Honouliuli Shokai?
RT: They were run by Japanese.
RT: Honouliuli, yeah. That’s right… Shokai.
BaS: Chiuku’s, too, on the corner.
MS: There’s, the building is still there, but it’s all ugly now. I think it’s still there.
BaS: Have you guys been back there on that street?
KM: No, we should go sometime.
BaS: I can take you.
JD: Cause no more have the store, but the foundation.
BaS: Yeah, yeah. My uncle used to live back there for a little while that’s why.
JD: I remember the owner of that place.
BaS: Was cute back there.
MS: Cute, was so cozy.
JD: They own a big lot down there in Ewa. I never know they own so many acres in there.
BaS: The Murata family. There was a Japanese internment camp back there, too.
KM: Ahh, that’s where the internment camp was during the war?
BaS: Across the street, I believe, yeah.
KM: Ohh. Let’s talk, real quickly. How old do you think you were when you started… What did you do, hoe hana in the sugar, or did you actually cut sugar or what?
JD: Umm… cut grass, and I cut cane.
KM: You cut cane? From when you were in school?
JD: Umm, yeah.
KM: About how old do you think you were?
JD: Um, let’s see. 18.
KM: Ohh, ohh. So, high school already?
KM: Did any of you girls work plantation?
Group: No, no, no.
JT: Like I said, no, because he knew it was gonna fold up.
KM: Ohh. Did you folks know Bill, William Balfour?
BaS: Yeah, Bill Balfour.
MS: That was my dad’s good friend, too.
BaS: Is that the kine, Don’s uncle? Don, the one I dated.
RT: Bill Balfour. I worked for the brother, Dr. Balfour.
MS: Ohh, yeah, that’s right. He was the luna before, too.
KM: Apparently, Balfour was the one who was working when the plantation closed.
JT: His mother married that man.
BaS: I dated the step-son.
JT: [laughing] That’s her fault.
MS: So he now works for the city, yeah?
KM: Yes, parks and rec.
RT: His wife’s name was Dedra, I think.
RT: Yeah, I met her once.
JT: That’s Don’s mom?
RT: I worked with him, ’cause Mr. Balfour’s brother is Dr. Balfour for Straub…
KM: …Well you know, it’s so interesting, sounds like plantation… growing up when it was plantation, you folks sounds like you kinda, it was a good life, though. Sounds like it was good fun.
Group: Yeah, yeah [in agreement].
RT: Yeah, you don’t get a lot of material things, but there was love. And you could just hop on your bike and just go, “Uh oh! The whistle blowing, gotta go home!”
KM: Ohh, so what time did your whistles blow?
RT: Three o’clock.
MS: Three thirty.
BaS: Seven and three, and eight o’clock.
RT: Ohh, gotta go sleep now! [laughing]
MS: You can hear, it’s really loud!
RT: Yeah! [mimics sound of whistle] [laughing]
KM: So was the whistle on the mill? On the sugar mill?
MS: It comes from the mill. So loud!
BaS: But 3 o’clock is like, “I gotta get my butt home ’cause I gotta put the hot water on the stove for dad’s coffee.” [laughing]
BaS: The rice gotta be cooking.
KM: Was that pau hana?
BaS: And something gotta be thawed out. That’s when they all grew up already and I had to take care of the chores.
KM: So you had to pay your dues?
BaS: Back then, you respected your parents. You didn’t have to get a whip for it. You knew what you needed to do and you did it.
RT: They hop onto the truck, sit on the bench, and then they’re taken home. So, they park on one side, and all the old folks come down.
RT: Then they go onto the next stop.
MS: It was nice!
OM: You guys have pictures from before at all?
Group: Umm, no… I don’t think so.
BaS: Humm, but we can get, because we just had a…
KM: Well we should talk story about some photos, too. Did you folks used to go down to the beach on the Pearl Harbor side?
RT: Ohh, yeah! Used to have oysters stick out of the ground!
MS: When it was low tide, my dad would go over scoop um up, and fill up the big barrel.
JT: What was it, oysters?
MS: Yeah! Throw um the fire!
JD: Had clams! And everything.
BaS: And clams! And crab.
MS: And crabbing!
RT: That’s a different kinda crabbing.
BaS: See, when my husband started going crabbing, when we started dating, “Ohh, we’re gonna go crabbing!” They would go by the bridge and throw the nets in, and I’m like, “That’s not crabbing!”
RT: We were raised where, you walk in the water! And it’s dirty.
BaS: And then they lay out the crab nets with all our fish heads inside, by the time we line um up, then we walk all the way back, we dumping out already.
KM: Samoan crab, or what?
BaS: Uh, no, just the regular one.
KM: They call kuhonu?
MS: Kuhonu crab.
KM: Are they about this big?
RT: What you guys used to call uncle, Sand Crab?
MS: No, Blue Crab.
KM: Yeah, I think that’s Haole Crab.
JD: The Blue One. And they have the Haole Crab. And they have dots on the top.
MS: You see, going out, we don’t know get shark, yeah? In the water.
RT: So, we’re just going, following the “Big Baldee,” we call it Big Baldee, and then uncle is in the front of us, with a big stick, and we get the Big Baldee…
MS: And we walking…
RT: All we thinking about, “Ohh, we gonna get crab tonight!”
MS: And then we come out all itchy, itchy. ’Cause get like fiber glass, yeah.
RT: So, itchy, it’s really funny.
MS: But ohh, that’s okay!
KM: What was the itch from?
MS: The water is dirty! The chocolate beach.
JT: It’s brackish water.
BaS: We call it Chocolate Beach.
JD: Brackish water, yeah.
RT: And then not knowing, cause you cannot see what’s in the water…
MS: Yeah, it’s murky, it’s muddy.
KM: Did you folks never hear stories about sharks out there?
RT: They never told us.
BaS: They said hammerhead, no, Jan?
JT: Yeah, no, but there’s a lot of hammerhead sharks out there…
JD: I think they did, but doesn’t matter.
MS: They never told us.
KM: You know, it is interesting because Puuloa, the old Awalau, the old Pearl Harbor, was famed for one shark, that they called the shark goddess. And she actually protected people, no man-eating sharks, you folks never heard the story?
KM: No man-eating shark ever enter into from at Keahi, Iroquois Point, was kapu already in the old days. So people who lived within Puuloa, the Pearl Harbor area, they said, never had to be afraid of sharks. But you folks never heard stories, yeah?
JT: We never heard stories of anybody getting eaten.
RT: Because, we was like, “No problem!” [laughing]
KM: But uncle, you said one knocked you one time? One shark you felt went knock you?
JD: You can feel um, the hammerhead shark. You can feel the head, yeah?
KM: Yeah ’cause rough, kalakala, the skin, yeah? You can feel, like sandpaper.
RT: I think after that incident, when we went crabbing next time, there was a big barge, Chocolate Beach, we’d go on top that barge. So uncle said, “Put your aku head and go.” Me, Vern, and Nina, went jump over the net, and we kept making big noise, so uncle got mad. We neva catch. That noise.
KM: Well, you know what? That’s another interesting story for Ewa, they say that in Puuloa, in the old days they called it Awalau o Puuloa, Pearl Harbor, now. And, there was a kapu, you know the oyster, that you folks talk about?
KM: The old Hawaiian oyster they called pipi, and that oyster, if you made noise when you went fishing, it caused enough of a breeze, that the oysters would all go hide, they would be hidden, and you could never find them. So, even those kinds of stories, the practices that go on, you know. Like, your parents never told you, “Watch out for the shark.”
KM: Then, when you go make noise, and then they come huhu, they say “Pau, go home,” right?
RT: Yeah. Only thing, his father, my grandpa, used to go to, what is it uncle, Kiku Point?
JD: Yeah, Kiku.
RT: And I was little, and I went fishing with my uncle, his older brother, and I was little. And I went, cause I got up early. They caught lotta, lotta fish, that my grandpa told my uncle, “Panyo…” that was my uncle’s name, “I going throw one back.” My uncle got mad, yeah? So my grandpa said, “You just no keep on taking, taking. You give back.”
RT: Because we had three bucket full of fish, that my grandpa wen throw one, my uncle got huhu, he was mad! So my grandpa said, “No, no, no, no, two is enough for, you know.” And my mom them came, and my grandpa used to divide.
KM: Divide the share, yeah?
RT: Yeah. But always give back to the sea.
KM: That’s such an important cultural practice.
RT: But it’s like, grandpa, you know like, they work in the plantation. And had his own two acres of field by Honouliuli.
JD: Yeah, yeah, yeah.
RT: Okay. I was little, I was born and raised up by my grandma and grandpa. Because when I was little, when my mom met my step dad. Well to begin with, to make things short, my dad had another family.
BaS: Her real dad, now. Not my dad!
MS: And they had a big, big age difference. My mom was only 19, my real dad was 41!
JT: Yeah, he was already married!
RT: And he didn’t tell my mom, so of course, my grandpa I think was against it. But, when you’re in love… they got married… [family discusses background of various families, one in Hawaii and one in the Philippines]
After she had me, because all this commotion, she left me with these guys! My uncle, my grandpa, they the one that brought me up! She went to the Big Island, and then she went to stay with Aunty Trini Jusul, yeah?
JD: Yeah, yeah.
RT: Then she met my step-dad, so they got…
KM: So Shibuya was from…?
MS: Yeah. Keaau.
KM: Ohh, Keaau.
JT: Ohh, Olaa.
RT: Then, when my mom gave birth to this one, they came back because now my step-dad was now with the plantation because of grandpa!
JD: [laughing] Yeah, yeah.
RT: When they came over, and my mom now wanted to take me because now she’s married, she’s settled, and I have a…
KM: Yes, yes. So you have a sister.
RT: And my grandma said, “Leave me with them! Leave um with me.”
RT: Because now you guys live here, you could always, you know…
KM: Yes, yes.
RT: So, that’s why I was brought up [by my grandparents.]
KM: So she was so attached to you folks…
RT: After that, cause you know my mom left me with them because of this.
KM: Yeah, of course. From young, yeah.
BaS: But we never considered each other as half, it’s like, that’s our loved. We’re like, “What!? That’s our sister!”
KM: That’s how family is! That’s how family is.
RT: Because, I really didn’t know my real father’s side. Cause after I was brought up by my step-father, which he carried me under his medical, everything.
RT: So, that was the part of the story of my life and it’s just so different. And, it’s nice.
KM: So, interesting, so Shibuya must have been working for Olaa Sugar Company, or…?
RT: Was it Olaa? I think so you know…
KM: In Keaau. With the Shipmans.
JT: Well actually, they met at, I thought they met at Young Laundry?
BaS: No, Ariyoshi’s ah?
MS: Yeah, Ariyoshi’s Laundry, yeah? Out there.
RT: Where, in the Big Island?
MS: No, here.
BaS: Yeah, here.
RT: Where did? Because according to Nanai, when I asked her, then even mom, she said, “Ohh, no, we…” ’Cause she went to the Big Island, yeah, with uncle?
RT: And she got married!
JD: [laughing; group discusses family and marriage background]
JT: As far as we know, that mom and dad met at the Ariyoshi Laundry. Dad was a driver and mom was a checker, I think.
JT: That’s how they met.
RT: Then they moved to the Big Island?
JT: We went Big Island.
BaS: Well, maybe they were there at Big Island, cause that’s where dad’s family is!
RT: And stayed there for a while and then came back…!
MS: And so the first time I ever met aunty them, we was living lower camp, and they came and remember mom going, “Hey, get some Japanese ladies outside!” That’s the first time mommy met.
Group: [laughing, continues discussing background and relationships]
KM: …Interesting. So see, good thing we talk story!
BaS: But this is good, because we don’t have this when my mom was alive. Well, she had some awesome stories, that we wish we taped.
KM: Well you know, and then going back to your story, did you say, Kiku? Where did you say where you went with your Tatai?
BaS: Kiku Point!
KM: Where is that?
MS: Kiku, Kiku.
RT: It wasn’t too far from here, anyway.
KM: Oh, I wonder why they call it Kiku Point?
JD: Yeah, yeah, that’s a beach.
BaS: Maybe it was a nickname.
RT: And then there was one Kahe Point, but that was toward Nanakuli area.
KM: Yeah, yeah Kahe Point.
MS: And Kahe Point is still there.
KM: Yes, Kahe Point is still there.
JT: But no more Kiku Point, I think this is Nimitz, already.
BaS: But we used to pick ogo at Puuloa.
KM: Ohh, really?
BaS: Yeah, we used to swim inside.
KM: So speaking of limu, how about out here and towards Oneula. When you were young, did you ever go out there?
RT: A lot! The seaweed, you talking about?
BaS: Ohh, yeah!
MS: Sometimes we walk and just pick it up from the sea, and put it in your basket!
KM: Yeah, just right from the shore.
JT: For us, that’s rubbish.
JT: When we were growing up, my aunties would come down, from town, and they’d go, “Ohhhh! Look at all the ogo!” And we were like in the water, “That’s rubbish!”
MS: Why are they picking up the rubbish, uncle?!
MS: ’Cause you need the fresh one, in the water! You just gotta go with your feet and you get all the patches!
JT: You could see um at low tide, too!
MS: And one time, my dad saw me, I went with, “Look, check this out!” I go with my toes, I pull um out! And they get the root!
JT: The shells!
MS: Ohh, my dad went ballistic! He said, “Don’t you ever do that again! You go down, and you break it off!”
MS: You pick it off! So after that, I was like, “Okay, I won’t do it again!”
KM: ’Cause you look, now, hardly no more limu.
JD: Those Samoans take all the seaweed.
JT: Those Samoans, uncle?
MS: And the Filipinos, too.
JD: You go there, the thing is gone! When they came inside the water, what happened?
KM: Well there is, even on Lanai.
RT: They used to raid the mango trees, too. Cause I had four mango trees! And we had a fence!
RT: And one day I was home I recall, because my baby was sick.
BaS: The one family with the daughters? Is that the one yeah?
RT: Yeah. And then, I had a coconut tree. Okay? Then she go, “Hello, hello!” And we had a little dog that I would leave um, you know running around. And I go, “Yes?” and she go, “I can have some mango?!” And I said, “Yeah, you can.” So I said, “When you done, you pick up all the rubbish!” There were three boxes! I said, “Excuse me! Try stop!” Pack! Pack! And then all of a sudden, I saw, one of the Samoan kids when climb my coconut. I said, “What you doin over there?” He took the hatchet and just, Bam! Bam! All the coconut came down. I said, after that, no more.
RT: I said, “No! Enough!” And then they all bring you know the big bag. I said, “Wow! That’s enough! Excuse me, that’s enough!”
KM: Well, it is interesting like you said, how people, like you were describing, your Tatai, like he told even your uncle, “You give back.” Or, you take what you need, not everything, yeah, kinda stuff, yeah?
RT: Ohh, that’s what I was going to finish. Kay, my grandpa, they had, what was he, irrigation, yeah? No?
RT: And they all had their own acres of fields, my Tatai, his dad, had about an acre and a half. And that was by Honouliuli, above by the, what is that, the water pump?
KM: Yes, yes.
RT: There’s a water pump. Every three years, I remember, they would harvest our Tata’s field. But, after or before they did take away the cane, my grandma used to cook big pots of food and then the beer, and everything. And I look, how come no more. So, my grandpa, his brother, he comes home, my Tata he take a shower, my grandma gets all the stuff. ’Cause I was staying with them, right? And then we go. There was a hole that my grandpa made. My grandpa say something, and he throws all the food in this hole.
JD: Yeah. That like offering, yeah?
RT: Yeah. Whereas, the other Filipinos who had cane… skinny, no sugar. Ohh, the crop!
JT: Yeah, it goes about how sweet your sugar is.
MS: Yeah, and they would get a big payday, yeah?
RT: Yes, 1600, that was a fortune back then!
MS: And to them, that’s big bucks!
RT: And our day, this other Filipino man told my grandpa, because they were jealous, now. They would harvest their crop, as I recall, they get only 800. My grandpa is like, at 2 grand. That’s a lot of money before! So that’s why they were jealous of my grandpa. My grandpa never tell ’um what he does.
KM: That’s interesting. And you wonder, how did you grandpa, how did you father, learn about that kind. You that you, you care for the land, you give back, it gives to you.
JD: I think he learn it from his dad, I think.
RT: And after that, all the food, chicken, everything, it’s in there. He’ll take a shovel, he’ll cover it, and then around that little area, he would put beer.
KM: Interesting. So that’s the one by the water pump.
KM: The well?
RT: No more now, yeah? Okay, Honouliuli, not too far where we used to live. Was across. I don’t know how you…
JT: Isn’t before, didn’t after daddy them when have that field?
RT: He did.
JT: Daddy had that field after.
MS: Yeah, he did. My dad did.
RT: And what dad used to do, too, is he would grow vegetables. Squash. All kind of vegetables, and mom used to take it to work and sell um, and the vegetables would be really nice vegetables. And then, maybe the Filipino lady who sold pastry, she would trade in vegetables. One of the Filipino ladies used to trade vegetables…
BaS: And then you and I we go hide from her in the banyo.
JT: Why, you was scared?
BaS: Yeah, I was!
KM: So, did you folks, did you have separate banyo, or was it in the house?
MS: Yeah, was outhouse. And then the one and number two!
JT: We used to go to the bathroom, no problem, cause used to have the running water.
RT: They somebody was telling story that a man went go use the restroom, and the water get water rats, and he get bit, yeah?
MS: Ho! We used to hold, and hold, until we go to our Nanai’s house!
RT: They had a regular toilet! So after that, my dad had to… as soon as the house opened with inside restroom, we were in that house! Because we were like, “Come on!!! Take us Nanai’s house! We gotta go bathroom!!”
KM: Ohh, how funny! Aue!
RT: I refused to go use bathroom after that!
MS: All because we would listen to them talk story, the adults.
BaS: Those outhouse bathrooms were scary! They were scary looking!
MS: But we didn’t know any better, though!
BaS: Cause Aunty Jane them had. I never like that one.
MS: Until we listen to their stories.
RT: You can hear all kinds of stuff underneath there! You don’t know what’s in there.
MS: And you just hear the water running, too. Also the stench, too.
JT: But that’s when we used to throw Pine-O.
RT: There was a board that we sat on, yeah, Jan?
JT: Yeah, but then after they go put toilet seat cover, but with even those never like use um!
RT: And we used to pee in pots, yeah? You remember, night time?
JT: Yeah, because, who wants to walk all the way…
MS: It was outside.
JT: And there’s no lights!
KM: So, speaking of no light, and then we have to come back to the ocean in a moment, so you folks said, last night, Barbara said you folks was talking ghost stories. Did you folks ever hear any kine? Or did you? Like Night Marchers or anything? You know, they talk about?
RT: My house had. On Renton Road.
KM: Your house had?
MS: I’ve never. I’ve never seen um.
RT: The one that I was born and raised in.
JD: Yeah [chuckles].
BaS: No, but they said on the graveyard on Fort Weaver, some people can see, when it’s like drizzling. There used to be cars that would just flip over out of nowhere. And they said because a procession would be going across the street.
JT: But is it like Lynn’s house? It is by, that’s that path?
MS: That’s the pathway.
BaS: From the church, to the graveyard.
JT: My cousins, they’re not here, but their home is on the path. And they could hear, at night, you like chariot, oh you know, the horses.
RT: But you know that, even the Immaculate Conception Church, even the priest said, you can hear the galloping of the carriage. I would freak out. I would run away from it.
JD: Yeah, that’s how before, yeah?
JD: Get all kine stories, yeah.
KM: Yeah, well they say, the dry lands, from Puu o Kapolei, you know the hill. Kapolei Hill, come across here. In old, Hawaiian days, it was a place where the Akua, the ghost, used to run all over the place.
MS: Used to have here!
BaS: Is it true that Honouliuli used to be a battle ground?
KM: There was a battle there. And there’s a place in Honouliuli called Poohilo. It’s one of the old land areas at Honouliuli by the taro lands, it’s in the upper section where the old road cut across, the upper section is Poohilo. That’s named because the defeated warrior, or king, from Hawaii, Hilo, his head we put on top the stick right there.
Group: Ohh, wow. Eww.
BaS: Ohh, that’s interesting.
KM: Yeah, but you know.
MS: Where was this?
KM: Poohilo at Honouliuli. Up at the taro, the wetlands.
JD: Ohh, I didn’t know about that.
KM: So, you folks know, you said you would come out this side, gather limu and stuff.
KM: Now, may I ask a question, and I know you’re a little young. Uncle’s the oldest one. You know, where what they call Hau Bush?
JD: Yeah, yeah. Used to get all the seaweed down there.
KM: Just between sort of Hau Bush and White Plains, the fence, midway, there’s an old coral and cement, old Hawaiian-kine cement well. It’s still there today.
RT: There was a lot, isn’t it? That stone.
KM: Yes, yes. What I’m wondering is, up until the 1930s, if you look at old maps, there are two houses that were there. I’m wondering if you folks remember, where there any old houses still along the shore by your time when you came?
JD: On the shore?
KM: Along the shoreline.
JD: I don’t remember.
MS: Where is this?
KM: When you come out, when you leave what is Hau Bush, coming towards the fence at White Plains now, sort of mid-way between the Oneula Beach Park and the White Plains fence, basically where the lagoon marina was gonna puka out, but now no more, yeah?
KM: There is a wall made of coral stone with, you know how they made cement before days, they would bake the coral, pound it, and then mix it to make mortar, yeah?
KM: So it’s that kind of an old, and there was a sinkhole, a puka in the coral rocks, that used to have water in it. Well, there used to be two houses there up until the 1930s and I’m really curious to see if we can find out who lived there. Did you folks ever hear of the Kahalekulu family? Worked for the ranch.
BaS: Well, I used to rent from the grandma. The granddaughter bought a house from us.
KM: Yeah, Marissa.
BaS: Yeah, yeah.
KM: Yeah, well define, Marissa’s father’s coming home, he’s gonna be here on Wednesday. And we actually, we’re gonna go walk the shoreline, too. But he’s young like you, you know, he’s 10 years older than you. But he’s basically your age.
JT: Ohh, okay, okay, okay.
KM: You were born in…?
KM: Yeah ’55, yeah, so he’s born in ’56. So he’s one year younger than you. But from their family stories, I’m curious, you know, had to be that we should be able to find who the families were that were still living there. We assume it must have been with the ranch, you know.
KM: But you know, it’s so interesting, so important to talk story. And sometime, you know… So you’re leaving, though, you’re leaving you said, Sunday.
KM: This coming Sunday? Yeah. You know this has been such a wonderful, just to skim the story to talk story, you know. What we should do is we should try and sit down and we should try and talk story again sometime.
KM: So you goin keep coming home, you know.
BaS: Their next trip back here hopefully will be February.
KM: Good, good. What I need to do is, you can give me aunty’s and your sister them’s, or your uncle them’s mailing address so we can send a copy of the CD. So you’ll have the recording, then, each of you will have the recording. What I’d like to do eventually, Onaona will transcribe the interview in a draft format. Well I’m going to close up now, but we’ll transcribe this and send this to you… [recorder off]
Group: [continued discussion, and recorder turned back on]
KM: So the plantation, the plantation used to keep plenty records. The thing is, what we don’t know, I don’t know, is what happened to the plantation records. Now, where the management office was, there’s something the historical society or something, it says…
BaS: I don’t know, it’s the sad part. We have the railway, well the choochoo-train, so the manager’s house, they should make it like a museum.
KM: It is a historic landmark.
BaS: Because, you know where I live? It’s a historical preservation.
BaS: So it’s like how Lahaina they have all these museums, the choochoo-train running, but we don’t have. Nobody wants to stop in Ewa and have shave ice.
KM: Well, that’s one of the things why. What we’re trying to do with the Hoakalei Cultural Foundation, we have basically 30 acres of land that were set aside from Haseko’s development that have the old Hawaiian sites on it, house sites, salt making areas, agricultural stuff like that. And also stuff from the war. So what we’re hoping to do is we’re gonna build a small community museum where we can save these stories and try to collect and gather, you know… ’Cause I’m sure that people have photographs probably working sugar fields I bet before even your father folks probably found Hawaiian stones and things like that, you know?
JD: Oh, yeah, yeah.
KM: …So work with the community to build, and gather artifacts, photographs, the old plantation records and things like that. Fun stuff, you know, that’s a part of the history. We know that bango number… like do you remember your bango?
JD: Ohh, I forgot already.
RT: Number 1365 was grandpa! Ahh! That was a long time ago! [laughing]
BaS: She’s the one who made his bill high!
RT: ’Cause every time I would go with grandpa, I mean grandma, used to go Ewa Plantation Shopping Basket, and then we go Murata’s, then Kay would ask, “Okay, what the bango number?” I go, “1365!” Now I’m 58, “1365!” [laughing]
MS: And no one stole from each other, you know?
KM: Yeah, yeah. How different in those days, yeah?
MS: They didn’t steal their number, they didn’t steal anything.
KM: Well of course, they all knew, right, the store knew who everybody was.
RT: Everybody knew.
KM: How come you using 1365? Right? If you try use the wrong one.
RT: And even if you walk in the store, they knew who you was.
BaS: Yeah, her daughter ran away, at that age! They knew it was her daughter! She ran away from our house.
RT: That was horrible. And now how old is Nel? …34?
MS: She’s 38.
RT: And they watched her. Because normally they see other family members, yeah? But they noticed, “Ohh, look at the baby?” So she was busy walking around…
JT: While everybody was going hysterical!
RT: So one of the ladies saw her and just kept an eye on her. Until I came in and I was so angry ’cause we was looking high and low! Afraid because the plantation trucks, big kind of…
JT: She walked! It was a long walk.
RT: And when I saw her I just broke down.
RT: I was like, “Awww, are you okay?!”
MS: She wanted to go to church with them, because that’s what my mom does, she helps with the church. So they, she went, and then baby, we supposed to be taking care of her, but one thought the other one was watching her.
JT: But dad was, too, he was fixing the car.
RT: But she went outside, and my dad was outside. And what happened was, when my dad was looking in the hood, that’s when she went sneak out. So, he didn’t know. We all didn’t know, we all assumed.
MS: She was just determined to go to the store.
JT: Yeah, she had a little purse.
RT: But the danger part, going across the street. And how we found out, one of the residents saw her and was like, “That’s the Shibuya granddaughter! Why is she walking by herself?!” So she came to our home and asked my dad, and all I hear is, “Jenny girl, where’s Shan?” I go, “She stay with you!” “No she’s not!” That’s when everybody went out of the house flying!
MS: Thank God it all worked out.
RT: ’Cause you could tell, anybody coming around, “Do you know where so-and-so lives?” “Ohh, yeah, just go down this road, they’re like the third house.” You know, now!
BaS: Yeah, now we don’t know the neighbors.
MS: Yeah, it’s horrible.
KM: Yeah, it is. It’s junk.
MS: Sad, yeah.
BaS: But my son, he’s 27, and he told me, “Mom, thank you for raising me here.” Because he could run the fields and he could ride his bike because as he got older as a pre-teen he realized, because his friends were on the mainland and whatever, they didn’t have the freedom that he had, and everybody knew him. I could call one sister, “Did you see Shannon?” Or call my cousin around the corner, “Did you see Shannon?” Somebody was always watching. But you know, for him to tell my thank you, especially me being a single parent, that really made me feel good.
JD: [laughing] Oh boy.
KM: Ohh, thank you folks so much, this is a really good start. Barb knows how to get a hold of me. But, what I need is, if you’ll share, and your sisters, just the address just so we can have the CD and bring the CD back for you… [recorder off]
Group: [continued discussion, and recorder turned back on]
KM: Wait, you were talking about Papipi, and that was old from when you, but that’s ’50s.
RT: Right. I was still about maybe, I was still going to high school.
KM: But you said that you would go down Papipi Road?
KM: To get to Kiku?
RT: Kiku Point. That fishing area right there.
JT: Kiku Point!
JD: Yeah, yeah.
RT: So from Fort Weaver, we’d turn…
JD: All the way to the end.
RT: Papipi Road, yeah, coming down all the way. Past Hau Bush, past CPC Beach.
KM: Was it paved or was it…?
RT: It was rocky as can be! Go over the hump, keep on going, and we’d get to Kiku Point over there.
KM: That’s not Kualakai, though?
RT: No, they called Kiku Point as far as I know. And then, going down, we coming this way, right? Our uncle, his younger brother, live in a little village on the right hand side, there were one, two, three… five houses.
BaS: Oh, that’s the one with the big rock, yeah they had.
KM: Oh, where was this? Towards Kiku or here?
RT: Here. Oh, okay, Papipi Road, okay, we’re coming, we’re going to the beach. This side get houses, we’re coming, but here, there were lotta kiawe wood, but when you make that turn, my uncle house was the first. There was another house next to it. Behind there was a two-story house. Behind the two-story house was a piggery.
KM: So this is where you’re talking about, by the piggery, which is basically just past Papipi Road, right?
RT: Yes! That’s the one. And then there was a little house, and two more houses around the corner.
JT: Waipa, Waipa. One Waipa?
JT: They were the one the piggery people, right?
RT: They were the owners of the piggery.
MS: Is that where Uncle Rudy lived, Pohakupuna Road?
RT: He said, he was so drunk one night, he couldn’t find the key, he had to go bathroom. And so he went to pee at this big rock and somebody went go PATOCK [gestures, striking him]! And went come alive.
BaS: He was wide awake!
RT: After he do that he said he stumbled into the house, slam the door, and he fell asleep on the floor. Then the next day he go, “Wow! What was that?!” So he told our grandma, the mom, she said, “See what happened! You no do that! You just no go pee any kine place!”
MS: You have to say, “Excuse me!”
KM: Yeah, you have to go excuse yourself, yeah.
RT: And after that, PATOCK!
KM: So, aunty, just to get an idea of what we’re talking about, um. You come to Papipi, I know where the piggery was, and I’ve got a photo I can show you folks an aerial photograph. ’Cause, was a big area! Cement floors on the piggery.
RT: Yeah! They had like 2 piggeries, and my sister said they were run by the Waipa family.
JT: They were both Hawaiian, the husband…
MS: But wasn’t the wife Japanese?
JT: And then the [husband] was Hawaiian and I think the wife was Japanese.
BaS: Yeah, they were big people.
JT: And, they lived right next to the piggery in the back. And there was another… they lived, and then next to my uncle, you goin up this way, I remember there was this two-story house, there were lot of crown flowers. And then you cross, and my uncle lived right there, right by the crossing of the road.
KM: You know where Lion’s Club?
BaS: Yeah, the chicken farm.
KM: The chicken farm? Yeah was by there? The piggery was a little further down, yes?
RT: Yeah. And then sometimes the piggery, I guess when they let ’um go, they would come right behind my uncle’s fence. They would come up there and go, “KAWW KAWW!” And I go, “Oh my God! Uncle, the pig, you better tell the man!” And then here comes the Waipa man, “Tiny!” That was my uncle’s name. “No worry, no worry, I going let ’um go, I go pick ’um up.” “You better ’cause he’s snooching [gestures digging around]!” But, like I said, now, no more houses no more piggery.
KM: So Waipa had people working with him on the piggery, or?
RT: No. They had one daughter, only three of them. And they lived in the back, I wanna say, my uncle’s house, the two-story house, this way, and right behind the uncle’s piggery, you had to walk further in.
JD: Yeah, yeah.
RT: You remember?
KM: I gotta get a map, so we can try to draw some of this out.
BaS: That site isn’t there. Well the one I think we’re thinking about, ’cause I think the Haseko wall is there now.
KM: Yes, but you know one of the preservation… you know, there’s one of the three preservation areas. There’s the one that’s on the White Plains side, then there’s the one in the middle. The kiawe is still there. And then there’s the other one, where the Kuapapa houses going go. That one is, the piggery is in there, and the cement, some of the cement foundations. But there’s also ancient Hawaiian house sites in there too.
OM: You better go take her.
RT: Because, one time, I think my uncle was saying too, he saw a man by the big rock. That rock, though had words on it, you know? Because uncle used to, he had a little garage, you know parking there, we would just hang out. And behind that garage there was a fence where the Waipa’s pigs, when he would let ’um go, would come up. But next to that, there was a driveway, and then the crown flower and then the two-story house, the Waipa… Across used to be another Filipino family, the Bernadas. They lived in a little cute house. After the cute house, there were two more houses there. That’s it. But, majority of the stones had writing on it.
KM: Ohh, interesting.
MS: I remember which house, now, across from McAngus house.
RT: Yeah! That’s the one!
MS: It’s a family name.
KM: Okay, that’s their last name?
MS: Yeah, McAngus.
KM: Okay, McAngus.
JT: Related to the Gabucos, next to the next house.
KM: Related to…
BaS: They’re gone, too, though.
RT: Yeah, and their grandpa was a boxer, way back. Manu used to go see him.
JD: He used to be a fighter. The plantation days.
KM: When are you back at work?
BaS: Thursday, Friday. Then I’m off again on the weekend.
KM: I’m gonna print a photograph, couple of photographs for you so you can show your sister folks. Because these are 1960, ’60ish, aerial photographs, that show you piggery, a few of the houses you’re talking about. But you can also see the wetland, you know, that’s in the preservation area. The Kauhale preservation area.
KM: So, it’ll be nice for you to see because we can actually maybe see, “Ohh yeah, that must be the houses! Yeah?” So we can start to mark the houses a little bit.
RT: And you know, I was thinking about the chicken farm. When you’re going along Fort Weaver Road, coming into Ewa Beach, the chicken farm was on the left-hand side.
KM: Yes. By Geiger?
RT: Yeah, yeah, yeah. That’s the one.
KM: Yeah, by Geiger.
RT: ’Cause I remember, our mom, we used to go pick eggs.
RT: Ho! I was sick and tired, every Friday we’d pick eggs. Dozens galore, for the family. Eggs, eggs, eggs!
RT: That’s all we did!
KM: Was the railroad track somewhere up there?
RT: Yes, right in front of our house.
JT: It was operating while we were still in elementary.
RT: We were so thrilled to see the train passing by.
BaS: But I can find out if anybody knows.
KM: And you mentioned, it was Hawaiian families who lived by where the train museum is now?
KM: And they, so that was Hawaiian camp?
BaS: I know two of the girls, I can have them, Kaanehe and…
BaS: Um hum. That’s one of my best friends.
KM: It would be wonderful if we could see if there was any families around.
BaS: Yeah, I get them.
MS: Yeah! Aunty Jane is still alive.
BaS: Aunty Ahia, was her maiden name.
KM: But she’s not Kihewa, so she’s not Kihewa.
BaS: Yeah, she’s in Ewa.
KM: Okay, but not Aunty Jane Kihewa who works at… a different Jane. Yeah?
BaS: Yeah, Ahia Querubin.
KM: Oh, Querubin, okay. Ohh, okay. Oh, wonderful. Sorry, I don’t want to take your family’s time anymore, this was good fun stuff. Thank you! [recorder off]