People came. It’s not the same.

26 08 2011

In a roundabout way, from champagne and sashimi at a dinner in Waikiki to a long ride back to the studio via Ala Moana, an anniversary night out made me think of my late dad Arthur.

DH and I reaffirmed our wedding vows yesterday (27 years to the same partner, thank you) and celebrated by going to the “old” Surf Room at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel for dinner. The restaurant is now Azure that specializes in seafood since the grand Pink Lady was renovated a few years ago.

We knew it wouldn’t be exactly the same (it wasn’t) as what used to be our favorite restaurant, but Diamond Head was still in view (kind of) and the service was just as attentive.

The fine-dining room is now set farther back from the beach and does not include the terrace next to the sand, and pillars and the fancy tents from a different restaurant block the million-dollar view that was the Surf Room’s.

Instead of real tablecloths and that cute and endearing pink candle fixture of the hotel, there were place mats the server kindly encouraged us to keep our dishes on.

That part of the critique aside, the chef’s preparation of the fish DH ordered was excellent (apparently, because I don’t recall that he offered me any to try ;-)), the sashimi melted down my throat, and I got a little tipsy on the champagne. No hangover this morning either.

And, oh, I almost forgot to tell you, our table was next to Senator Dan Inouye’s, and I’m pretty sure the secret service folks could pick up our conversation.

Going home we picked the wrong route. By the time we figured that out, it was too late, we were stuck. Long story short, only one traffic lane was open on Ala Moana boulevard leaving Waikiki for many blocks. One. Or, I should say, it looked like the Board of Water Supply had coned off all the others.

I began a Facebook thread about traffic/driving conditions and found it interesting that I would think it interesting to write about routes and directions. A few people have told me I should be a taxi driver because I know my way around pretty well.

When I was a kid, Dad drove a dump truck for a living. Went riding everywhere, and he would teach me.

When he decided working for the government would give him more financial security, he quit independent driving and applied to the Board of Water Supply, starting there as a pipe fitter’s helper. (My uncle, his brother, also drove truck, and he quit driving because of the bad traffic. He said it wasn’t fun anymore.)

Dad, a Chinese-Hawaiian who left school before finishing the 8th grade, eventually worked up to traffic inspector, a job he held until he retired. He was the person you went to see down at City Hall for a permit to bend the rules affecting traffic flow. He was smart and important (to borrow key words from The Help). He knew how to adjust traffic flow to make it safe and smooth for motorists. He was honest and earned the respect of contractors.

The test in the job application process involved identifying streets and neighborhoods on Oahu. For example, where are the streets named after men’s first names, in alphabetical order? Answer: St. Louis Heights. Name them. He did well from his experience of driving loads all over the island.

He missed the answer to a question about a little street in Wahiawa. He really got a kick out of the fact that it was one block from our house!

All this was in the 1950s and early and 60s while there were still pineapple fields and a scenic view, before Mililani and subsequent subdivisions and towns sprouted up on our ag land. This was prior to H-2.

During those days it took about 40-45 minutes to travel from Wahiawa to Honolulu along two-lane Kamehameha Highway, which we enjoyed every Thursday—me with my mom in a taxi on her day off to buy music books, and on the weekend to call on the relatives—the three of us, first in the dump truck and then in the car when we got a car. I think it might take that long or longer on the freeway today during rush hour.

In 1963 our family moved to Honolulu, a sacrifice on my parents’ part so I could walk to Punahou School.

Today the places south and west of Wahiawa and Pearl City are unfamiliar if not foreign to me. What happened? People came.

I can’t help thinking that Dad might have something to say about last night’s road set up. I can hear him now.

Copyright 2011 Rebekah Luke

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Hakka dinner with Tsung Tsin

31 07 2011

Favorite food of Hakka people

For relatives on my mom’s side and friends interested in Hakka Chinese things, here is my link to the Tsung Tsin Association in Honolulu’s website where you can learn about this Hakka club too: http://tinyurl.com/tsungtsinhi

The group seeks new members to help achieve its mission “to promote the exchange of knowledge among the Hakka peoples, develop a spirit of cooperation among the Hakka in Hawaii and throughout the world, and promote education, charity, and benevolence.”

Last night, taking advantage of my “guest” status, eight of my cousins and friends partook of a Hakka dinner cooked by the chef of Golden Palace Seafood Restaurant. About 120 people attended.

At our table were my eldest first cousins, Eileen and Kwong-Yen, and cousin Audrey Helen and her husband Howard; our mothers were sisters. Nani and Rae came; they are cousins on Eileen’s father’s side. So did Pixie whose birthday is today—Happy Birthday, Pixie!—and Lori who is a professional foodie.

We ate dishes prepared especially for this event that are not part of the regular menu—as there is no Hakka-specific restaurant in Honolulu—and were reminded of our childhood and the foods our parents and grandparents made.

I consider Hakka food “Chinese soul food.” Some people call it peasant food. My friend Lori described it as “rustic” and “pigcentric.” It’s salty because Hakka people worked in the fields outdoors and needed to replace the salt in their bodies. Salt was also used as a preservative for foods like cabbage and eggs. Hakka cooks also use a lot of oil, because in the olden days there was not enough oil, so now that it is available, they use it (that is what I was told on a Hakka food tour I took in China one time.)

Although today’s advice is to eat what our ancestors ate, I don’t indulge like this very often anymore, and if I do, I modify the recipe and try to make it healthier. I do, however, like that the food we ate as kids did not contain much sugar.

Last night’s flavors allowed us to reminisce about the recipes. The occasion and the Tsung Tsin Association gave us a chance to revisit our roots. Please consider getting in touch. It’s a well-organized and very friendly community.

Copyright 2011 Rebekah Luke

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Time for a new way of life

28 07 2011

My latest wellness kick—taking to heart the advice of Dr. David Servan-Schreiber, MD, PhD, in his book Anticancer A New Way of Life. His message has convinced me to change my ways. Seriously.

Our friend Lois will be so delighted I read the book.

Two Sundays ago, Lois invited her friends to a barbecue at her son’s house in Niu Valley, where she was staying, to thank everybody for their prayers and support in her recovery from breast cancer and conventional treatment. Hallelujah! She looked radiant!

To everyone she greeted at the front door, she passed out a calling card with the image of the Anticancer book cover.

“I moved in with my son, and he cooked for me,” she said, attributing her new health to “the book.”

The day before, news came from another friend Sue in Tulare that she was clear of her throat cancer. So grateful. Thank You! Great news from two friends in two days!

So I found the book at Borders and finished reading it today. I’ve heard the brave doctor’s message in bits and pieces for a long time from various sources. We all have. Diet, nutrition, exercise, less stress, balance, etc.

A neuroscientist who battled his own brain cancer, Servan-Schreiber explains how cancer cells behave, what turns them into disease, and how to keep them from growing.

His work ties all the information together, describing the “terrain” our bodies, minds, spirits and emotions need to be well and thrive—before, during, and after illness—citing study after study by other scientists.

He presents the findings in such a way, this time I’m paying attention. For starters, NO SUGAR. (Did you hear that? ;-))

It’s a do-able formula, sounds simple, but can I execute it? I’ll try harder to be good to me, myself, and I. A challenge, to be sure, but it’s time for a new way of life.

“All of us have cancer cells in our bodies” are the first words on the book jacket. “But not all of us will develop cancer.” It’s good to be more aware.

The new edition of Anticancer was written in 2009 (ISBN 978-0-670-02164-2).

There is a short-cut summary of action steps in a subsequent article, “20 new anticancer rules,” at this link, but it leaves out the background (the why) that I found interesting and comprehensive.

Readers also can go to http://www.anticancerbook.com for more information.

Thanks for stopping by my studio.

P.S. Just two more days to see my paintings in a downtown Honolulu exhibit. Here’s the info: https://rebekahstudio.wordpress.com/paintings.

Copyright 2011 Rebekah Luke

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Categories : About me, Food, Friends & Family, Reiki Healing

Rebekah’s Kaʻaʻawa Mountain Apple Pie

3 07 2011

My mountain apple pies

Okay, okay, here’s the recipe. Jeez. I must say, it’s too good to not share. When there was a mountain apple tree outside the studio — Hawaiians call the fruit ʻōhiʻa ʻai (Eugenia malaccensis) — I made these pies every summer, one after another, so many that I froze them to eat later.

One year I was too late, and I could only watch the bulbul birds eat the entire crop in 20 minutes. “Hey fellas, come on over: breakfast!” Another year afterwards, the fruit was just not edible anymore. I think the tree was just old, so we cut it down.

This past Friday, I went to Candy’s house to catch a ride to our art show reception at 1132 Bishop Street in Honolulu. But first she pressed me into service to help pick the mountain apples from her tree for the refreshment table.

Oh, my gosh, I have never seen more beautiful mountain apples!  Candy and her husband had found from a garden shop a solution that repelled the pesky fruit flies that love to sting the fruit (causing the fruit to become wormy. Yecch!)

Clearly, Candy and Ken have a harvest they cannot possibly eat by themselves alone, and I was overjoyed when they offered me the surplus. Thinking about our family potluck gathering the next day, I thought, I’ll make pie!

This recipe has already been published in Everyone, Eat Slowly: The Chong Family Food Book (Kaaawa: Chong Hee Books, 1999). I adapted it from a formula a chef at the Kahala Hilton gave me many years ago when I worked for Sunset. For my recipe, the Betty Crocker brand mix is a must. Yesterday I used 15 very large mountain apples for one 9″ pie. I substituted 3 tablespoons fresh calamansi juice for the lemon juice, and I brushed the top with half-and-half cream for a golden brown finish.

Gorgeous mountain apples, freshly picked and washed. The foreground shows the apples pitted, trimmed, and cut into chunks with a paring knife.

REBEKAH’S KAʻAʻAWA MOUNTAIN APPLE PIE

In Kaʻaʻawa the season for ʻōhiʻa-ʻai (mountain apples) is in June, usually, and it last for about two weeks. The challenge is to harvest them before the birds do. And then, what do you do with them? There are only so many fresh mountain apples one can eat. Now you can try them in a pie! The flavor is a cross between apple and rhubarb.

Betty Crocker Pie Crust Mix
5 cups sliced fresh mountain apples
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
3/4 cup sugar
3 tablespoons butter, cut up in pieces
Juice of 1 lemon, or equivalent in lime juice
3 tablespoons tapioca OR 1/4 cup flour

Prepare Betty Crocker Pie Crust Mix for a double-crusted pie.

Combine the mountain apples, salt, cinnamon, sugar, butter, and lemon juice. Cook until the mountain apples are half done, about 10 minutes in the microwave on full power. Remove from heat.

Gradually stir in tapioca or flour. Cool mixture. (Place the mixture in its container in the freezer to cool down fast; be careful not to freeze). Pour into unbaked pie shell. Cut a vent in the top crust and place over pie. Seal the top crust to the bottom crust.

Bake at 375 degrees Fahrenheit for 45 minutes. Remove from oven and cool before slicing. The filling sets as it cools.

Rebekah Luke

Ready to bake. I decided to make a pretty lattice top like the picture on the box of the Betty Crocker Pie Crust Mix.

Copyright 2011 Rebekah Luke

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Categories : About me, Food, Friends & Family, Hawaiian

Seven Polynesian voyaging canoes

25 06 2011
Hōkūle a

Hokulea (photo courtesy of Wikipedia)

In this lifetime I’ve witnessed the revival of the Polynesian voyaging canoe.

One time, a man I was married to—a newspaper reporter and a sail-boater (before DH)—was excited about meeting the artist Herb Kawainui Kane whom he had just interviewed.

He saw Herb Kane’s beautiful paintings of double-hulled canoes under sail. He learned of Herb’s dream to build such a canoe in Hawaii that would make a voyage across the Pacific to the land of his ancestors in the way that the Polynesians first came to the Hawaiian Islands. He had an idea of what the boats looked like, and he was in the process of figuring out how exactly how to build them.

The reporter had crewed for Rudy Choy, a naval architect, from California to Hawaii on the Aikane II, a modern 65-foot catamaran built for his sunset dinner cruise fleet, on its shakedown voyage. He introduced the painter and the naval architect to each other, and that was about the start of the Polynesian Voyaging Society that celebrated the now-famous Hokulea’s 1976 voyage from Hawaii to Tahiti.

I was young and just a “fly on the wall” at the time, but that tidbit is true and a treasured memory of mine.

You can find out about Polynesian voyaging on this Polynesian Voyaging Society website. For more than a generation the organization has educated our island youngsters and the public with the ancient knowledge of traveling across the ocean without modern navigation instruments. PVS has played a major role in showing Native Hawaiians their ocean heritage.

Six of the seven voyaging canoes at anchor in Kaneohe Bay at Hakipuu this afternoon. The blue-toned scene is from a rain squall.

Fast forward 35 years to yesterday afternoon when seven Polynesian voyaging canoes called at “Hokulea Beach,” within Kualoa Park on Oahu where Hokulea was launched originally. These seven canoes began their voyage from New Zealand and are on their way to North America. They sailed from Nukuhiva in the Marquesas on June 2 and called at other Hawaiian islands to the east before reaching Oahu.

It was a wonderful sight to watch them enter Kaneohe Bay. The canoes represent Tahiti, Samoa, Fiji, Tonga, New Aotearoa, New Guinea, Vanuatu, Kiribati, and the Solomon Islands and are sailing together in a voyage titled “Te Mana O Te Moana.”

With sails furled and anchors down, the celebration continued on land today, with ceremonies, exchanges of greeting, singing, dancing, and eating.

Oahu islanders and visitors enjoy festivities at Kualoa Park.

DH and I rode our tandem bicycle from the studio to take it all in.

Our tandem rig. Miss Marvelous and her dad, far right, are anxious to show her Papa (DH) the canoes.

Copyright 2011 Rebekah Luke

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Categories : About me, Fine Art, Hawaiian, Memoir

My grandfather Chong’s house

19 06 2011

My mother's birthplace

Fathers Day 2011

My trip to North Kohala last Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday with my cousin Nathan, cousin Ann, and DH to scout places and activities for a family reunion in 2012 included some sleuthing, at least in our minds!

I do apologize for keeping you in suspense by my last post. 😉

Our main quest was to determine whether or not the house our mothers, aunties, and uncles were born in (between c. 1905 to 1925)—in the ahupuaa (land division) of Ainakea—was still standing. One would think a simple phone call could give the answer, but I had gotten conflicting reports in recent years, and even last week! With my investigative reporter’s background, I had to fly inter-island and see for myself. DH and my cousins would corroborate the findings.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the house was still there? I imagined our other cousins could see firsthand during our reunion where their (grand)parents lived. We could walk the aina (the land) where our ancestors played and grew up before they moved to Honolulu in 1925 for higher education. I belong to the third generation, and the sixth generation has begun to show up. What an opportunity this could be.

My grandfather Chong How Kong, also known as Ah Nee, worked as the overseer for the estate of Dr. Benjamin Davis Bond (1853-1930), a physician, and his wife Emma Renton Bond (1866-1951). It’s located in the ahupuaa of Iole. Iole is next to Ainakea. Dr. Bond’s father, the very Father Elias Bond (1813-1896) was responsible for my grandparents’ emigration from China.

Today, there is a new land owner (New Moon Foundation) and the “Bond Historic District,” a 56-acre federally registered historic district, within its boundaries. The towns of Hawi and Kapaau and other tiny communities on the northern tip of Hawaii island to the end of the road are characterized by country living, attractive small-business establishments, and a tightly knit, caring community.

Now, about those conflicting reports. From time to time over the years various family members would revisit the old homestead and be welcomed on the property by whoever lived there. I was there in 1990 with DH and cousins Elly and Jim, and in 2003 with my friends Linda and Terry. Ann went with her husband (now late) cousin Anson a few years later. We each took the obligatory photo of us standing in front of the house.

In 1990, the front porch is enclosed and the kitchen wing Ah Nee built is still attached. That's my cousin Jim with a friend in the shade of the avocado tree.

View of the kitchen in 1990. During our family's time in the 1920s, bachelors lived in the house in the rear. My grandmother cooked for them as well as for her own family of 15 children.

View from the back of the house in 1990

Brenda greets us in 2003. The kitchen has been removed, and the house renovated. The porch is open, there are new windows on the side, and the cottage in the back is spruced up. At this time it is occupied by the Kohala Family Homeschooling Learning Center.

Front view with open porch

This 2003 photo shows new windows and paint.

After the magnitude-6.7 and 6.0 earthquakes hit Hawaii on October 15, 2006, I was curious how the house survived, if at all. By phone from Oahu I reached a woman who told me rather authoritatively that the house was still standing, but that it was tagged for demolition because of earthquake damage. Okay, that’s it, I thought.

A few times after that, cousins vacationing on the Big Island would call me for directions to the place. “Not sure if the house is still there,” I’d tell them, “but here’s how to find the site. Let me know what you find.” And I’d describe the wooden gate between two ironwood trees that opened onto the grassy driveway. Later they would say how they couldn’t find it. “Well, it’s a small house, and it’s some distance in from the highway,” I’d say.

Last year when I contacted New Moon Foundation to ask about the house and any educational programs it advertised on its website (research for the family reunion), the office had no idea what house I was referring to. That puzzled me.

Continuing in my search, my Facebook friend Anna, a widow of a Bond descendant, introduced me to her son Boyd, who lives in Kapaau and knows a lot of North Kohala history. He said over the phone when I called to make an appointment to meet him that the house was still there. Oh, yay! When we met in person just a few days ago, he reported, “No, sorry, it’s not.” Indeed when we drove by, finally, we saw from the highway that it was gone. 😦  In its place: a Matson container.

On the adjacent lot are some homes, with a bumpy road parallel to the property line. We drove up the road for a better look at the lot from the side and turned around half way when it got rougher. A dog started barking, and the neighbor emerged. “Go talk to her,” DH urged.

I explained why we were there, how sad the houses were torn down (there was more than one). Her name was Mrs. Castillo.  She said, “Oh, they weren’t torn down. They were moved away on a truck.” Imagine my surprise! She said the property was then graded and a new road was put in. “Before or after the earthquake?” I asked. “Before,” she replied. Hmmm …

Staff at New Moon Foundation was gone for the afternoon, so we planned to ask the next morning. Back at the Kohala Village Inn, while I continued to reflect on this news, I decided to look up the satellite map from Google.

I found the aerial view of the neighbor’s house, and I also saw our family house we were looking for. I was sure of it. I got excited! I thought, the house was moved all right, but just to a spot farther in on same lot. Now I really had to return to the spot to find out for certain.

The next morning at the Iole office I explained our quest. “I’m imagining our parents as kids playing with the Bond kids, and there must have been a short cut between the two places,” I said to the admin staff. They pulled up the Google map, the same map, and mentioned it was the place of the Meditation Hale (house).

They’ll take us there!  Of our entire scouting trip, that was the most joyous moment for me. Through the fruit orchards, down the gulch into the forest, and up a private trail. As we walked into Ainakea, it was plainly evident that our grandparents’ house was not there after all. That darned Google map is old!

Between the Meditation Hall in the rear of the property and the highway we found a rock terrace and a pair of orange trees remaining. Back in the studio I’m comparing the photos from different eras, wishing I would have thought to bring them on the trip in the first place.

DH and cousin Nate walk quietly past the Meditation Hale at Ainakea.

Looking toward the highway from the back of the property, you can see the ironwood trees where the old gate was.

Why do we care so much after all this time. Well, there’s just something about finding one’s roots, and my cousins will like to come here.

There’s still a missing piece to the puzzle. Where is the house? You know, we were so happy to walk on the land, we never asked New Moon Foundation the question.

The Matson container and me

Copyright 2011 Rebekah Luke

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The house where Momma was born

14 06 2011

Yesterday I met a wonderful person, the great grandson of my grandfather’s employer. I came to my ancestral homeland to revisit the house on the land where mother was born. What did I find? Boys and girls, do I have a story to tell!

To be continued …

Copyright 2011 Rebekah Luke


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Categories : About me, Memoir

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