Saturday, April 4, 2020 Self-Reliance

I seem to do my best thinking when I become conscious in the morning.  Still abed, eyes closed, but aware of sounds, and whether or not the sky has lightened.  That still state, when thoughts, seemingly random, pop up.  This morning it was Self-Reliance.  

Iʻve been talking with friends about how these times are remarkably like the "Good Old Days".  Much less traffic, no tourists to speak of, infrequent but big quantity food shopping and planning ahead, and sort of an undefined quietness to the pace of life.  Yes, Iʻm single, so that last is likely not-so-much for those with energetic young people under roof.  I can imagine.  But nevertheless, it feels as it did decades ago.  Iʻll be 69 in a couple months, and like many, came to see The Government as Provider.  They provide many services, and we have expectations.  Clean parks and restrooms, efficient and helpful and honest public servants, laws to provide for a civil society, etc.  But.  I think without realizing it, weʻve become, as a society, dependent on any number of government programs.  Theyʻll do it.  Not my job.  

And now, with the luxury of time at home, we think and talk, and muse, and remember.  When we were so much more Self-Reliant.

Those of a certain age, who lived here in the 1950s remember, in 1958, a strike by sugar plantation workers.  It started on February 1, and ended June 6, 1958.  128 days.  It affected 13,700 workers on 26 plantations.  Four months.  No income.  Families to raise, bills to pay.  Kinda like now.  Kinda.  

The aerial photos below are found on the MAGIS website at UH Mānoa.  Maps, Aerial photos and GIS (geographic information systems).  They were taken on September 28, 1954.  Top one is of Honokaʻa and Haina.  Honokaʻa stretches parallel to the coast, though the east part is obscured by thin clouds.  Haina is ma kai of Honokaʻa, straight down The Hill.  That little plume at the shore is dirty sugar cane washwater from the Haina Mill.

Below we can see Paʻauhau at the center of the shore, with a much bigger plume, east of Haina.

Common to both photos are softly textured fields of cane.  Sugar cane was planted, starting in the mid-1800s, and became a major industry.  Major.  Land from the Wailuku River in Hilo to the edge of Waipiʻo valley, from the cliffed shore up to about 2,000 feet elevation, all of it, was planted in cane.

Cane was our life.  And so when The Strike happened, it was economically devastating.  But then, as now, we were all in it together.  For four months.  One of my momʻs cousins was a rancher,  and he and his wife, an excellent cook, set up one of those big green canvas Army tents in their yard.  Women and kids would spend much of the day there prepping and cooking meals.  Men would work in a community garden and harvest crops, hunt, slaughter cattle and pigs, go Waipiʻo to help plant and harvest kalo, etc.  All participated.  I remember flypaper strips hanging from the tent ceiling, and everyone talking story as they worked.  And too, we maintained our garden at home.

We made it through the strike.  Of course we did. We were self-reliant.  We, The Community, all knew each other; cared for and helped each other.  And Iʻm getting that same feeling now.  Even though we stay home, there are fewer distractions, and lives seem simpler.  Homeschool the kids, play with them, cook and eat what you have.  As a society, we seem to have fallen off the rails.  Everybody is busy working to make money to pay for $1,000 cell phones and not inexpensive data plans; big houses with master baths, fancy kitchens with granite counter tops, the latest appliances and gadgetry, electric vehicles (hmmm Where does lithium for those batteries come from?), giant flat screen TVs, fashionable fashions, restaurant meals, takeout foods, and donʻt forget the Daily Starbucks...  How did this happen?  

Yes, those are sweeping generalizations, and yes, there are those of us who try hard to live simply.  We arenʻt without fault, but living simply these days requires conscious will and effort.  No thanks.  No, thank you.  No need the big TV, the newest car, the latest As-Seen-On-TV gadget.  No Need.

We need family and friends, we need loyalty and kindness, we need to know that we arenʻt alone in all this.  And we arenʻt...  Nature and The Universe loves pitching curve balls.  Testing us.  Can?  No Can?  Before The Strike, the curve ball was, in my world, Polio.

The Salk polio vaccine was released April 12, 1955.  I got sick May 1, 1955 in Honokaʻa.  Spent a total of four months in hospital, and at rehab, in Honokaʻa, Hilo, and Honolulu.  Much of the time without family.  Imagine how devastated they were...

But maybe because I was so young, I donʻt remember much.  Being wrapped in hot,  steamed green itchy wool Army blankets to loosen my contracting muscles, a big stainless steel whirlpool bath to do the same thing, I think.  The orange-painted big-windowed Physical Therapy room at the Kauikeolani Childrenʻs Hospital in Honolulu with model airplanes hanging from the ceiling.  And then, after I came home, weekly drives to PT at the March of Dimes in Hilo.  The building still stands.  Ma driving the 1954 Chevrolet down the winding coast road through Hāmākua and Hilo, popping the horn at the sharp curves in the gulches to alert other drivers.  And negotiating for safe passage with laden cane trucks while avoiding rocks and cane stalks that the hāpai kō workers hadnʻt gotten to.  And we made it.

And if I was good during my physical therapy sessions, sometimes we went to the lunch counter at Kress for a burger boat.  Red plastic open weave oval bowls, lined with parchment, holding a burger and fries.  Or...Better yet:  Cream Horns at Robertʻs Bakery!!!

THE BEST!!!  Cold, coated with powdered sugar, flaky pastry, and soft, not-too-sweet pastry cream.  Like this:

 Oh.  My.  GOODNESS!!!  Below is an interior shot of Robertʻs Bakery, with owner Robert Taira, back in the day.  For some reason, I remember that the cream horns were in the refrigerated case to the right, just off the frame.

Robertʻs Bakery is now Short and Sweet, still on Kinoʻole Street, ma uka side between Jimmyʻs and the tennis courts.  Classic...

And then, Mr Taira, after Hilo success, opened other bakeries.  Read about Mr Taira.

Besides my cream horns, in Hilo, Mr Taira baked Portuguese Sweet Bread.  He fiddled with a recipe, and made his own style.  We never bought the bread, because Gramma Camara made and shared her own.  With raisins.  Because thatʻs what Daddy liked.

But Mr Tairaʻs bread was popular.  Very popular.  Today, people around the country know his Portuguese Sweet Bread as

now headquartered on Torrance, California.  

Ono bread, but Portuguese.  Not "Hawaiian".

Thanks for sticking with the ramble today.  Since weʻre on foods, and our versions of Portuguese foods, hows about a pot of Portuguese bean soup?  Having fun one day, I wrote this.  Translation available by request...

A couple notes:  for the spice mix, I find it easiest to put a tablespoon of each in a small jar and shake.  Then add the blend as needed.  Potagee cabbage (Portuguese cabbage) is a kind of kale.  Not easy to find.  TryAsk old people with gardens if they get.  It looks like this (thanks RK):

It keeps growing and growing.  Just break a branch and stick in the dirt.

OK then... Headed outside for some sun!

Stay well!  As always, with aloha,

BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com