E Kipa, E Nanea, E Ho‘olaukanaka: Songs of Hawaiian Hospitality

Printed Program [view PDF]

E hea i ke kanaka e komo ma loko, e hānai ai a hewa ka waha;
Eia nō ka uku lā ʻo ka leo, a he leo wale nō ē

Invite the people to enter and to be fed until the mouth can take no more;
Here in exchange is the voice of greeting, simply a voice

Perhaps some of the most fascinating mele Hawaiʻi are those compositions written to commemorate a visit with good friends and honor the hosts who so graciously invite you in. They are not only snapshots in time of immense historical value; they capture the emotions and essence of the reciprocal, limitless nature of aloha.

These mele extoll the beauty of place with fresh, unknowing eyes. They shower praises upon people who welcome others with generous, open hearts. They bind ʻāina and kānaka together as a symbiotic pair, leaving the two forever synonymous with one another. These mele also expose the relationship between guest and host — malihini and kamaʻāina — and the responsibility that each carries in creating joyful spaces, magical moments, and everlasting feelings.

If I invite you to my house, what do you bring? When you arrive, how do you approach and enter? Who do you greet first? How do you engage and interact in the space? How do you help out? What do you do before you leave, and then once you get home?

The role of malihini is to respect the people and place you are visiting. To make it as easy for them as possible, and to kindly receive all that they offer you with gratitude. To follow rather than lead, always defering to your hosts. To make them feel seen and appreciated.

If you invite me to your house, what do you do in preparation for my arrival? How do you welcome me in and take care of me during my stay? What things might you show me? What stories might you tell? When I am ready to leave, how do you send me off?

The role of kamaʻāina is to welcome and take people in. To give them the best your place has to offer, and to see that they want for nothing. To create a meaningful experience to be cherished and fondly recalled for years, going out of your way to make them comfortable. To make them feel special and cared for.

These “local” values — these “norms” of Hawaiʻi gatherings — are more than norms, more than local. They are a part of a centuries-long heritage of hoʻokipa, of greeting guests into the spaces we treasure, where the excellence of the host is outshined only by the humility of the guest. Together, we visit, enjoy, and relax.

The daily practice of hoʻokipa is one that is so engrained in Hawaiian lifestyle, many of us may not even recognize those traits that have been passed down within our own families. When going to visit family or friends, the obligatory store run to grab a pound of poke on the way is not really about the poke. It’s about loina Hawaiʻi, and it is an integral part of the process.

ʻAʻohe uʻi hele wale o Kohala.
No youth of Kohala goes empty-handed.
Said in praise of people who do not go anywhere without a gift or helping hand.

Sometimes, the act of kipa-hoʻokipa can be quite formal and elaborate. Other times, it is barely recognizable in its subtlety and informality. Nonetheless, it is ever present and always includes some sort of heartfelt exchange. It might look like an offering of oli or hula before entering sacred grounds. It could include the finest gifts you have to offer, from cherished family heirlooms to flowers woven into a lei from your backyard. Or perhaps it is simply a bag of boiled peanuts and some lomi ʻōʻio from the local farmer’s market.

For Helen Desha Beamer, a common gift was that of a newly composed song. Whether it was for the Magoons, the Greenwells, the Hendersons, or others, she was onto something. She knew that mele outlives the moment. It lingers far beyond the scent of the lei, the deliciousness of the food, and the sounds of laughter that inevitably fade with time. With mele, the memories continue. The party endures long after the physical gathering. The composition itself becomes the space for renewed delight, and one that can be revisited endlessly.

The 105th Kamehameha Schools Song Contest does us a timely favor. The mele showcased tonight are evidence that hoʻokipa is an enduring legacy. Our “Hawaiianness,” if you will, lives not only in the loʻi kalo or on the waʻa kaulua, but simply in the way we gather; the way we visit; the way we host. This year’s theme reminds us that the reciprocation between malihini and kamaʻāina is not only familiar, but innate. We do not question whether or not we bring something to the family party. We are confident that the aloha we share with each other is our most valuable currency. We know that our departures are left not with goodbye, but with “a hui hou.” And when we do meet again, we ground ourselves in the practices set forth generations before us.

As we gather, we reinforce those relationships that are at the core of our Hawaiian identity. We remember to care for people — mālama i ke kanaka, a he pua laha ʻole — for they are our choicest possessions. And we affirm that our sense of Hawaiʻi lies within us — the host, the guest, and the spaces we create together.

E kipa, e nanea, e hoʻolaukanaka!