Ka Wai Ola - Office of Hawaiian Affairs, Volume 6, Number 9, 1 September 1989 — Taro -- reviving a key to Hawaiian culture [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Taro -- reviving a key to Hawaiian culture

by Keake Akamai When you buy a bag of poi or laulau, or eat squid lu'au at a party, do you ever give mueh thought to the plant from whieh all of this comes, the taro? Taro is one of the oldest crops cultivated and a very important food for many around the globe, and especially here in the Pacific. The English word taro is borrowed from Tahitian, kalo is the Hawaiian word. Using only their hands and an 'o'o or digging stick, Hawaiians created vast systems of 'auwai or ditches, and lo'i or taro patches, for raising their kalo wai. The amazing ingenuity needed to eonstruct these waterworks impressed the early European visitors, since these waterworks rivaled many that Europe had to offer at the time. Even today, you need only go to some of our lesserdeveloped valleys to see with your own eyes terrace after terrace after terrace, still standing yet, in mute testimony to the paramount importance of kalo to generations past. And what about this wonderful plant, the kalo? It has been estimated that perhaps several hundred kinds of kalo were recognized by past generations. There certainly are many lists of kalo names, even some from the last century. Unfortunately, many of these are just lists of names with no description at all of what the kalo was like. Many were written when everyone was familiar with the various kinds of kalo, so there was no need to explain about them. Times have changed however, and today many of these lists of names are just lists of mysteries.

One list, though, that did have good descriptions was published in 1939 by the Hawaiian Agricultural Research Station. It was written by Leo Whitney, Francis Bowers, and Makoto Takahashi, and was called "Taro Varieties in Hawai'i." These folks went around the islands in the erly 1930's, collected as many kinds of kalo as they could, and wound up with over 140 kinds. They grew them at the Hawaiian Agricultural Experi-

ment Station in Makiki where Robert Louis Stevenson Intermediate School is now located. After a few years of growing the different kalo side by side, they figured they had about 80 truly different types. This collection is now at the Harold L. Lyon Arboretum in Manoa where it has become the "official" collection of Hawaiian kalo. Now, we all know, "'A'ole pau ka 'ike i ho'okahi halau," or "Not all knowledge is in one plaee." The long lists of mysterious kalo names certainly eeho this. Of the 80 or so kinds of kalo in "Taro Varieties in Hawai'i," about 10 or so were called unclassified varieties because they had died out at the Agricultural Experiment Station in Makiki by the time "Taro Varieties in Hawai'i" was published in 1939. Some of these lost kinds of kalo have been found again, but some of them haven't. Sadly, lihilihimolina, lauloa uliuli, 'oene, manini or hinupua'a, piko'ele, and others may be gone forever unless someone somewhere grows them. If readers know of any private taro collections, please alert the author, "Keake Akamai," e/o HWHA, Box 61494, Manoa, HI 96839. Even though 70 or so kinds of kalo are still around today, there are only a few types of kalo grown commercially. This is because poi mills buy kalo by the pound, not by the taste, so farmers, naturally, grow the biggest kalo they ean to sell to the poi mill. Some of the kalo that aren't so big are mueh better tasting than the commercial varieties. For instance, poi from the black kalo, naioea, was reserved for the chiefs in the old days because it tastes so good. Likewise, pi'iali'i is always 'ono and was also only for the chiefs. The glutinous kai smells lovely when cooking and excels all others in deliciousness. Onee there was a time when poi from these kalo, and many others, could be purchased in the marketplace. Those times have passed, and not not one person in a thousand ean describe the taste of these delicious kalo. The situation is the same for lu'au. Today only bun long woo, a chinese taro, is sold in the market as lu'au or taro leaf. How many of us have savored the lu'au of 'apuwai or 'apu or 'o'opukai or the many others? Again, probably not one in a thousand. Today we are satisfied with what we get. Our bags of poi get smaller while the price goes up, yet the farmer still gets 25 cents a pound for his efforts. Only a precious handful of restaurants serve taro; all serve rice. At the enriching celebration of Hawaiian togetherness awhile ago, "Ho'olako", the 'ono free lunches had only rice. Lilo paha ka lahui i lahui 'ai laiki? 'Auhea 'oe e Haloa ka hiapo? Eo mai! Perhaps the people are changing to people who eat rice. Where are you, Haloa the firstborn? Answer the eall! The kupuna of old have passed on. We in the present must keep culture alive while we are here, lest more by lost and keiki of tomorrow have even less. We might support our own kalo farmers, not rice farmers of other places, if we eat kalo more often. lf we ask poi mills for the different kinds of poi, then farmers may get paid for growing kalo that tastes good, not for kalo that just grows big. When a waitress asks us, "Will you have rice or potato with that?," we should reply, "I'll have the kalo, please." When we do things like this, we create a demand that the marketplace is supposed to respond to. lf so, perhaps then more than one person in a thousand will be able to describe the taste of our many kinds of delicious kalo. Perhaps then we will have a small glimpse of what our kupuna knew who have long passed from this life. Perhaps then we will revive a smail part of Hawaiian eulture. It is up to us. "Keake Akamai, " or Roland Fenstermacher, is plant collections manager for the Ka Papa Loi O Kanewai taro patches, at the Universify of Hawai'i at Manoa. He is a chemist for the Board of Water Suppfy.

Capturing the knowledge of taro cultivation, is a goal of Ka Papa Loi O Kanewai at the UH Manoa campus.