Beautiful Hawaii

 Visiting Maui

Sunset in Maui, June 14, 2003.

Maui, ʻĪao Valley State Monument, 2003.

This beautiful monument, rich in cultural and spiritual values, marks the site of the battle of Kepaniwai where the forces of King Kamehameha I conquered the Maui army in 1790. In the valley behind me, you can see a demonstration of agriculture before the colonial era: cultivation of crops like taro, sweet potatoes, and yams. Like so many of the attractions of the island, the Iao monument was nearly empty when we visited, but is now so overburdened that non-residents are required to make reservations in order to visit when it's open. 

As tourists, we enjoyed many features of this beautiful island, and we mourn the loss of the historic town, Lahaina, and the suffering of the people there. We felt great awe for the natural wonders of sea, volcano, and stunning mountains, and we regret the ravages of human mishandling of the gifts of the Hawaiian gods. Today I'm thinking about all the people of Hawaii: those who suffered great losses from the fire in Lahaina, and all the others whose "Aloha" spirit has been so kind to us through the years.

WHY?

I have been reading some analysis of why this disaster happened. beyond the simple and obvious fact that climate change has caused a severe drop in rainfall in Hawaii, making fires much more likely. In the New York Times, "A Legacy of Colonialism Set the Stage for the Maui Wildfires" takes a penetrating look at the deeper reasons why Maui is so vulnerable, and how the human cost of the fires will fall very unequally on the remaining Native Hawaiians as well as on other poor residents, while the wealthy, the tourists, the landowners, and the heirs of the colonial past will survive and even come out ahead. The long-term results of colonialism and big agriculture are unfortunate:

"While Upcountry residents in Maui face water shortages, rationing and fines if they fail to conserve water, luxury resorts across the island are allowed to keep their taps running. The surge of tourism has caused housing costs to skyrocket and has given rise to a local economy focused on the needs of those just passing through. These imperial legacies combined to create a tinderbox, waiting to ignite."

Maui Sugar Mill, 2009. Closed 2016.

Maui's agricultural era is mainly over -- the big plantations of coffee, sugar, and pineapples are no longer producing, and the fields have been abandoned by the mainly absentee owners. Besides decreasing employment opportunities (forcing more and more unskilled workers into the tourist industry) this has caused the abandoned fields to become a fire hazard, and an ecological mess.

Colonialism has left a legacy that will badly affect the victims of the Lahaina fire:

"The State of Hawaii has said it will protect locals from land speculators. But if the bureaucracy of emergency management stalls out or fails, people who have temporary hotel vouchers or are overstaying their welcome on their cousins’ couches will be left with few options other than to sell. Opportunistic profiteering often follows an emergency, but it’s crucial to understand that those quick grabs of resources and power often depend on and exacerbate existing fault lines of imperial extraction."

Another recent article "How 19th-Century Pineapple Plantations Turned Maui into a Tinderbox" describes the slow process of change since European and American colonialism took over the island. Native agriculture was respectful of the land and its potential, while plantations were extractive. 

"To prevent more fires from engulfing communities ... it’s not enough to merely return water to streams. Maui needs to resurrect the wetlands and ecosystems that, for centuries, provided not only sustenance but also a natural buffer against disasters. Lahaina’s original name, Lahaina i ka malu ‘ulu o Lele, translates to 'Lahaina lies in the shade of the breadfruit trees of Lele' – a reference to the large breadfruit groves that once fed tens of thousands of people."

Swimming in Maui, 2009.

Kona Coffee

The Big Island has been another favorite of ours, and we have stayed in Kona a number of times over the years. Our favorite activities there have been in or near the water: scuba, snorkeling, beach-going, looking at the scenery.... On our many visits, we have also enjoyed seeing the native forests near the volcano, watching volcanic activity, dining in many excellent restaurants, cooking local food in condo kitchens, and visiting the coffee farms that face the ocean on the mountain slopes. 

At the Kona Farmers' Market, 2007.

…

Kona Lisa Coffee Mug
Of course I love anything Mona Lisa!

Unlike agriculture in Maui, Kona coffee farms are currently successful endeavors -- though here, too, unpredictable rainfall at the wrong time of year, insect infestations, and plant diseases have caused some crop failures. Last year saw extreme decrease in the coffee harvest, though this year the rainfall was adequate and the yield may be better. (source) 

Kona coffee is grown in a very small area, and thus more vulnerable to environmental damage than the huge farms in Central America and Africa. The cost of living for Hawaiian workers is high, and it's part of the USA so they have higher wages and a better standard of living than the workers in other sub-tropical coffee areas. Most of the farms are very small-scale and the owners do much of the labor, as we learned when we toured two farms on different visits. 

Kona coffee is considered a very high-end product, though in purchasing one has to be careful to obtain 100% Kona, not a blend with other coffee. We have been very fond of Kona coffee since purchasing some in 2007 at the Kona farmers' market from the then-owners of  Kona Lisa Coffee,. After a visit to the farm, we had it shipped to us in Michigan, but the constant price rises were too much and we haven't done so in quite a while. A pound of Kona Lisa Coffee beans is now $42, while single-origin beans from Central America cost $12-15 a pound at our local supplier. The local shop has 100% Kona for $49 a pound, alas.

Coffee beans, called "cherries" in a huge hopper ready to be hulled, dried, fermented, and roasted.
From a tour of Greenwell Farms, Kona, 2015.

Blog post © 2023 mae sander

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