The ocean gave birth, so it also offers solace in death. As land rose from the ocean - thanks to Pele, the goddess of volcanoes - more complex creatures began to populate the earth. Remarkably aligned with the science of evolution, an epic 2,000-line Hawaiian creation chant tells of life itself beginning in the sea with the marine invertebrates known as coral. Passed on orally over the centuries, they recount how gods and demigods, personified in nature, helped Hawaiian ancestors make their way from other Pacific islands to create their new paradise.
And this summer, there is an immense crowd of visitors on both Maui and Oahu, like my wife and me, breaking free from months of pandemic lockdown.īut more than sunbathing and snorkeling, something "spiritual," for lack of a better word, awaits those made aware of Hawaiian origin stories. The ocean, with its turquoise waters and beautiful beaches, is, of course, what beckons tourists to the islands. It's the same approach to time as required in the Hawaiian-born sport of surfing - bobbing in the ocean while patiently waiting for the perfect wave. The mythical Maui slowed it down, and visitors - if sufficiently relaxed - can let themselves experience "island time." That's what a Hawaiian vacation should be all about, after all. Of the many interpretations of the possible truth to be found in this myth, the most relevant for anxious travelers hurrying to catch their flights has to do with the passage of time. After receiving a promise from the sun to traverse the sky more slowly, so people would have more daylight, Maui released his captive. Embedded deep in cultural memory, they are as much a part of the heritage of a place as museums, monuments and iconic architecture.Īccording to one of the many legends associated with the Polynesian demigod Maui, he captured the sun at the 10,000-foot summit of Haleakala, a dormant shield volcano that created most of Maui the island's land mass. Local legends serve as kind of a poetic travel guide, adding a layered, nuanced sense of time and place that travelers might otherwise miss. You become less of a tourist, more like a native. Putting things into cosmic perspective was this statue by Shige Yamada depicting the Polynesian myth of "Maui Releasing the Sun."īecoming familiar with the ancient myths of the places you visit is not unlike being conversant enough in a foreign language to order from a restaurant menu without translation. But few in the long line of the understandably impatient, sweating and grumbling travelers seemed to notice. What did help in mitigating the frustration was the nearby presence in an open courtyard of a 25-foot-tall cast-bronze statue of a stylized human form lifting high a huge, bright yellow star. The agonizingly long line for security check, endlessly snaking back on itself, seemed more appropriate for Dulles International, LAX or JFK than an airport on one of the isolated islands in the Hawaiian archipelago. My wife and I dutifully did as instructed, but doing so didn't help. The Transportation Security Administration advisory to ticket holders departing Maui's Kahului Airport that day warned of "high travel volume." Arrive at least three hours before scheduled departure, the email warned.