MELE

This mele kāhea (chant of request) is a study in ʻike—the power of recognition. In the ancient prayer He Kanaenae no Laka, the deity’s presence is established through her environment: “A ke kuahiwi i ke kualono, kū ana o Laka i ka mauna, noho ana o Laka i ke poʻo o ka ʻohu, ʻo Laka kumu hula, nāna i aʻe ke Waokele” (In the forests and on the ridges, Laka stands upon the mountain; Laka dwells in the head of the mist; Laka is the hula master, she who has stepped upon the rainforest). As the seeker stands at the threshold, they look to the peaks of Lanihuli and the Līlīlehua rain for inspiration, tracing the neʻe (deliberate treading) of the water cycle as it descends the ridges of the Koʻolau. By invoking “ka wai ā Kāne,” we answer the ancient query of its location by declaring that this primordial source is present here—flowing from the majestic heights of Lanihuli, through the Waokele, and into the sanctuary of the pond.

This petition mirrors the ancient protocol of Hiʻiakaikapoliopele, who used her voice to bridge the divide between the seeker and the guardian. Just as Hiʻiaka stood at the Wailua River and chanted “Kūnihi ka Mauna” to secure safe passage, the haumāna uses this chant to navigate the spiritual threshold of the hālau. By casting their voice toward the mountain, the haumāna demonstrates that they do not intrude without kuleana, but instead use their breath to show respect for the environment and the guardians of the lineage. The leo (voice) becomes a bridge and an act of haʻahaʻa (humility) clearing the path of one's own pride, transforming the seeker from an outsider into a humble practitioner ready to receive and ensuring that what enters the hālau is not the personʻs ego, but their spirit.

The descending water from the mountain source is the physical presence of life moving toward the sea. To enter the hālau, the haumāna mirrors this water, setting aside temporal concerns to move with humility toward the protective embrace of Waikalua. Even when challenged by the Ulumano wind, the haumāna remains firm, drawing strength from the character of the land and the “breath” of the forest found in the mist.

In this vibrant landscape, we find the elemental manifestations of the hula lineage of Maiki Aiu Lake: the Līlīlehua—the rain and wind of Pālolo Valley as well as the red sagebrush flower celebrated in classic mele for its poetic beauty and deep, lasting love—represents the ʻike (recognition) found in the fine mist that nourishes the Waokele. This mist, or ʻohu, is the ea (breath) of the land, signaling the constant presence of the deities who dwell within the head of the clouds. Alongside this connection to the elements, we find resilience (onipaʻa) in the lehua, which stabilizes the soil for other species, and steadfastness (kūpaʻa) in the ʻaʻaliʻi, which bends to the wind only to rise again. 

The lehua is often one of the first woody plants to grow on fresh lava, while the strength of the ʻaʻaliʻi is found in a deep taproot that clings to the mountain's basalt. Just as these resilient plants anchor the earth, the Līlīlehua—as both blossom and misty rain—adorns and blesses the land with life, reminding us that ʻike is the ability to perceive the love and beauty that sustain our growth. These lessons of character and discernment remind us that just as the water finds its way to the pond, all spiritual growth begins with a humble intention.

In this mele komo (chant of welcome), the kumu answers the seeker’s call, signaling that Waikalua is a sanctuary for growth and transformation. Guided by the logic of the muliwai (estuary), the pond serves as a nutrient-rich nursery where the union of wai (mountain springs) and kāi (sea water) creates the ideal environment of wai kai (brackish water) for new life to take root. By identifying the twin water sources of Kāneʻohe and Kawa streams, we recognize the pond as a living “heart” pumped by these two specific veins.

“Kahe wai ʻo Kawa me Kāneʻohe” marks the moment where the two streams converge with the collective water of the pond. This traces a continuum of energy from the heavenly clouds of Waolani—the celestial uplands where Keaomelemele, the goddess of the golden clouds, refined her mastery in the arts of hula. Her arrival at the summit is immortalized in the heraldic proclamation: “He lani iluna, he honua ilalo, he uka o Waolani, he piko o Kilohana, eia ka mea nani ke hōʻea mai nei” (Heaven above, earth below, the uplands of Waolani, the summit of Kilohana, here is the beautiful one arriving). Keaomelemeleʻs chanting carried such immense mana (spiritual power) that it caused the cliffs to split, forming the Nuʻuanu Valley and establishing Kilohana as the celestial origin point where the source of hula manifests on Oʻahu.

The same brilliance flows down through the terrestrial arteries of the streams, pulsating into the protective embrace of the pond. Here, the seeker is invited into the incandescence of light belonging to Laʻa: “I ka mālamalama a Laʻa.” This invocation connects the haumāna to the shores of Nāoneolaʻa in Waikalua, Kāneʻohe—where Laʻamaikahiki first struck the heartbeat of the kāʻeke (drum) into the soil of Hawaiʻi. By standing at the shores where the drum first sounded, the haumāna anchors their individual journey in the primordial pulse of the hula.

Anchored by this ancestral pulse, the transition from request to acceptance is an embodied resonance of hoʻokipa (hospitality). To receive knowledge, one must first find their “calm center,” remembering that everyone needs a sheltered place to truly blossom. Upon hearing the response, the haumāna enters the space, stepping into the uluwehi (the lush, protected growth) of Laka to seek the same refinement of spirit that began at the summit.

This mele pana (place-name chant) unifies the district through the metaphor of a lei, reflecting a profound elemental correspondence where the forces of nature and the internal growth of the haumāna are one. We hold the land close through the five-fold 'hiʻi' structure—cradling at the front (hiʻialo), adorning as a child (hiʻilei), nurturing to calm (hiʻipaka), supporting on the back (hiʻikua), and embracing in completion (hiʻiapo). This establishes a developmental flow, tracing the haumāna’s journey from the infant at the source to the mature steward at the pond.

By acknowledging the land as a parent (hiʻialo, hiʻikua), the haumāna remains in a state of humility (ha'aha'a). The journey begins with the wai ola hūnā (hidden life-giving water) of the uplands, representing the haumāna’s inherited spiritual reservoir that exists within them. In the uplands of Maunawili, the rain begins to rock and sway (kāluli), a maternal rhythmic movement that mirrors the rocking of a child or the foundational sway of a hula dancer.

As the cycle descends from the peaks, we are wrapped within the protective embrace of the sanctuary (i poli) and tempered by the wind striking the seawall (i pā), where our resilience is forged (kūpaʻa). At Kualoa, the use of hiʻikua (supported on the back) marks the transition to adulthood; the Holopali wind supports the haumāna from behind—providing the “backbone” of the lineage—allowing them to stand firmly and face the ancestral presence of the land.

The geographic integrity reaches its peak at the shore, where the fresh water (wai) of Waimānalo meets the salt water (kai) of Kailua. This wai kai synthesis recognizes the balanced strength of the muliwai (estuary)—the most productive zone of the ahupuaʻa—mirroring the haumāna’s own arrival at a state of balanced maturity. The fragrance of the land (moani) becomes the character of the person, and the movement of the mist (neʻe mālie) becomes the grace of the hula.

This transition resolves in the hālau signature of “Hoʻopuni uluwehi ʻo Laka i hula,” where the haumāna is no longer separate from the land. They are encircled in the lushness they have described, and Laka is revealed through their dance. Within this signature lies the kaona (hidden meaning): “You are a lei woven with the beauty of the land (uluwehi) so that the spirit of inspiration (Laka) can be seen in your movement.” Now bound to the deity Laka, the momentum resolves in a vital three-way blessing: honoring the future (pua), the ancestral source (ʻāina), and the present practitioners (mākou). The final seal of “ʻAnoʻai ē” grounds the winds, allowing the haumāna to step out from the protective seawall of the elements into a tangible state of affection and presence.

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The protective nature of this chant mirrors Hiʻiakaikapoliopele’s own use of mele pale (protective prayer) during her travels through the Koʻolau districts. Hiʻiaka frequently used the names of winds and rains as a “spiritual fence” to guard her companions. By reciting the specific elemental names of Koʻolaupoko, the haumāna participates in the act of wrapping oneself in the environment as a garment. Just as Hiʻiaka summoned the winds to clear her path and the rains to bless her journey, the dancer uses this mele pana to weave a lei of safety around themselves and the hālau. By identifying and honoring the local forces of nature, the practitioner ensures they move in harmony with the land rather than in opposition to it.

This mele hoʻokuʻu (chant of departure) marks the essential transition from the protective embrace of the pond back into the demands of the world. Though the journey concludes at the sanctuary of Waikalua, the seeker has been transformed through connection and the rigor of disciplined practice and training. When the command “Huli!” is called, we pivot toward the mission and promise of our hula lineage, carrying the lama (torch, light) within us. This is a redirection of the spirit toward reciprocity, ensuring that the ʻike gained within the sanctuary is shared with the community.

Just as lama wood was used to mark consecrated boundaries and sacred enclosures, the haumāna now carries an internal structure that is both resilient and illuminating. In this departure, we hiʻi (cradle) the light of Laʻa—the same light first encountered in the welcome chant—ensuring it is protected as we cross the threshold. By embodying these properties, we manifest ʻike (recognition), kūpaʻa (steadfastness), onipaʻa (resilience), and ha‘aha‘a (humility), regardless of challenges faced outside the hālau. This endurance is a commitment to the uluwehi (lush growth) of Laka, ensuring the haumāna becomes a living sanctuary of core values and traditions—perpetuating ancestral wisdom while illuminating the path for others.

This transition mirrors the departure of Hiʻiakaikapoliopele as she took leave of her home to fetch the lover of Pele. Just as Hiʻiaka stood at the road above Huliwale and turned to leave, she used her voice to secure the protection her sisters usually provided. When haumāna chant “Malu ē i ka laʻi,” they are metaphorically putting on the Pāʻūopalaʻe—the lightning-skirt of the deity made of concentrated elemental power and the “fire of the forest” and used to drive away threat, “burn” away spiritual fog or confusion, and physically open a trail through dense, magical growth. By closing the chant with this line, the haumāna is activating spiritual protection and clearing their own path. They are not leaving the family of the hālau; they are wrapping themselves in the mana of the  hālau to walk through the world safely.

Inspired by this inner resilience, the heartbeat of the hula through the kāʻeke (drum) now vibrates within the houpo (diaphragm, solar plexus) of the haumāna. This ancestral pulse connects the modern practitioner to the elemental source of hula. As the canoe reaches the shore, the calm of the water becomes an internal state. Facing the mountain source, we depart with the light of Laʻamaikahiki within, ensuring that our ʻike (knowledge) flows steadily as we navigate the journey ahead. We carry the inspiration of Laka and Laʻamaikahiki with the resilience of Lanihuli and Waikalua as an enduring foundation for all future journeys.