Ka ʻElele Leo ʻOle Blog #21

                                                       Blog #21 Ka ʻElele Leo ʻOle
Pule 21 (2/19/17-2/25/17)

   Aloha mai e nā maka heluhelu, nā ʻohana, a me nā hoa i nui ke aloha iā Hōlanikū. Ke kokoke nei ka pau ʻana o kēia huakaʻi. ʻEhā wale nō pule i koe! ʻO ka hapa nui o kaʻu mau puke hoʻomanaʻo, ua kālele ʻia ma luna o ka hana. No nā pule i koe, e kākau ana au e pili ana i ka nohona i Hōlanikū. ʻO ke kumuhana o kēia pule, ʻo ia ka loaʻa ʻana mai o nā lekauila mai nā hoa a me ka ʻohana. ʻO ka lekauila wale nō ka mea e launa ai mākou me ka poʻe i waho o Hōlanikū. No laila, he mea nui ia iā mākou. ʻO ka lekauila kekahi mea e lana ai ko mākou naʻau. I ka hapa nui o ka nohona i ʻaneʻi, ʻaʻole loaʻa iā mākou nā lekauila, a kali nō mākou i mau pule. Hiki ke kaumaha. Hiki ke huikau. Manaʻo mākou iā mākou iho, “Noʻu ka hewa?” Eia naʻe, ke loaʻa mai ka lekauila, piha mākou i ka hauʻoli. I ke kali ʻana, ua ʻike au i mau mea e pili ana i koʻu ola ponoʻī. I kēia noho kaʻawale ʻana, ua hoʻoikaika ʻia nā pilina me nā hoa a me koʻu ʻohana. Ua nui aʻe koʻu aloha a me ka mahalo i koʻu mau mea aloha. Nui ke aʻo i ʻaneʻi.
  Howzit gangeh. Can you believe we have only 4 weeks left?! It feels like not too long ago, I had first set foot on Hōlanikuʻs bright, sandy shore after spending a week on the Kahana. For these last few weeks, Iʻve decided to focus on writing more about the camp life here. This week is about the way we communicate with people outside our little world in Hōlanikū. If you donʻt already know, weʻre on a super remote island. Cell phones are of no use here. Thereʻs no internet. We donʻt even get snail mail. Weʻre totally off the grid. Fortunately, we do have a satellite phone which can receive emails. However, there are rules that we must abide to. All emails go into one shared account. So, the subject title must have our name somewhere or else that email is pretty much up for grabs. Also, we canʻt send or receive pictures or attachments and the emails canʻt be long either. With limitations, itʻs important that these rules are followed ʻcause thereʻs nothing more disappointing then finding out you got an email, but itʻs too big that itʻs inaccessible. What a tease! 
   Going further into detail.. We do send and receiveʻs every morning and evening. These emails are the only reason why I even wake up early to eat breakfast. Every morning at breakfast and every evening after dinner, we all wait anxiously in the camp house to find out whether or not we got any emails. Eryn or Andy take note of how many emails weʻre sending, how much weʻre receiving, and how long the whole operation takes. Meanwhile, head lamps are on, books are open, and hearts are racing with excitement. The waiting game can drag along for a while. First, Eryn or Andy will tell us the number of emails weʻre receiving. Once a number is announced, hopes are high and everyone puts in their guess on whoʻs going to receive an email. Time goes by..still waiting. Sometimes the system shuts down and they have to start over again. The anticipation gets stronger. A moment later, they announce the winners and kindly allow them to claim their prize. I donʻt know how to explain the level of stokeness when I receive an email. I have a small group of people that Iʻve kept in contact throughout the season. For one, I like being off the grid, just focusing on life here. Second, rather than repeating myself over and over again, I have one designated person (which is my mom) to share everything with everyone else back home. 
There are times when we, as a team, didnʻt receive any personal emails for a week or more. Individually, weʻve waited for two weeks up to a couple months to receive an email from a certain person or anyone at all. For some, weʻve only heard from people maybe once or twice throughout the season. Iʻm going to be real with you. The waiting game SUCKS! Waiting, especially while being isolated, does have an effect on us. First of all, weʻre sad to not hear from anyone. Canʻt help but wonder, “Do they even care?” Then it leads to questioning ourselves, “Did I say or do something wrong?” Or we get worried that something might have happened. 
Some of us have had our streaks where weʻd get multiple emails for a few days. After a week, that streak would end and then it goes back to “silence,” allowing someone else to be on a roll. In the end, we actually lose hope and come to accept that we just wonʻt be receiving anything. I understand that our selection of people are busy, but brah, they donʻt really know how much this way of communication affects us. Just like my inbox, I, too, feel empty. Out of all people, we chose to contact these specific ones because of the certain roles they play in our lives. If they donʻt already know how important they are to us, well do they do now. 
   To be honest, I hadnʻt really planned on contacting anyone while I was out here. I told friends and ʻohana that theyʻd probably hear from me once or twice a month. I really just wanted to be off the grid and cut ties with everything and everyone that connected me to a crazy world that I left behind. However, throughout the season, Iʻve come to realize many things, spending a huge amount of time reflecting on my life. In isolation, I thought about people and the specific roles they each played in my life. After a while, I realized that I couldnʻt maintain this distance much longer. I wanted to be reconnected. From emailing just my mom and a dear friend, my contact list slowly grew over a course of a few months. Although Iʻve only contacted a small amount of people, those are the ones that I knew I had to send some aloha - because of their importance to me. Iʻm grateful to receive anything from them - mele to jam to, words of encouragement, stories of adventures, updates on family, etc. Iʻm happy to not only keep updated with their lives, but to share my experience with them as well. 
   Throughout this experience, I learned that Iʻve been taking things for granted. I hadnʻt realized the importance of communicating with others, especially my loved ones. Ways of communication has changed over the years - from letters to phones, from talking to texting. Iʻm guilty of preferring to text rather than speak on the phone. But now, emailing is a different thing than what Iʻm used to. Emails and letters are silent messengers. With this silent messenger, I became to miss the sound of the voices of my loved ones. I actually listened to old voicemails and watched videos just to hear their voices. When I read their emails, I try to picture them speaking those very words. As I continue to learn through my experience, my love and appreciation continues to grow for my loved ones. Brah, this trip has been heavyyyyy. But Iʻll tell you now, I will no longer take the ability to communicate with others for granted. Haʻo nui ʻia ʻoukou pākahi! 
  
   Mahalo a nui no ka heluhelu ʻana. Eia nā ʻōlelo noʻeau o kēia pule:
   
“Ka ʻelele leo ʻole o ke aloha” (The voiceless messenger of love). A letter bearing words of love and cheer -Ka Puke ʻŌlelo Noʻeau a Pākuʻi #1284

“Kū a keʻokeʻo; ʻaʻohe i hōʻea mai” (Have stood until bleached white; no one came). Said of a long, hopeless wait -Ka Puke ʻŌlelo Noʻeau a Pākuʻi #1857 

Naʻu,
Aulani