Successfully Avoiding Anything Planned
Kalaupapa
When I first heard the word “Kalaupapa” I wondered why someone was telling me to call my father. I never could have imagined the depth of history, torment, heroism, and bravery this place encompasses. Kalaupapa, meaning “Flat Plain,” is on the island of Moloka‘i and beginning in 1866 under King Kamehameha V, was the site where people with leprosy were forced to relocate. Separated from the rest of Moloka’i by magnific cliffs and once only accessible by boat, this peninsula became home to those with what’s now called Hansen’s Disease. They were sent away to be quarantined from the rest of society. For over a century, men, women, and children were permanently torn from their families and friends and sent to live in isolation.
Kalaupapa holds both unspeakable pain and immense beauty. I’ve never experienced anything quite like it. There’s a heaviness in the air knowing the insurmountable tears shed because of its past. Yet everywhere you look, you’re surrounded by swaying palms, secluded beaches, plush blue waters. Towering green cliffs and pounding surf. You know, that island in your dreams where you get washed ashore then Jonny Depp comes and rescues you from a giant octopus and you’re eventually picked up by the Millennium Falcon that takes you to your 8th grade speech class to give that overdue presentation? Yeah, that perfect island. There’s also an air of hope and healing. A tight-knit community, a way of life, a new-found Ohana, family. One learns of Father Damien and Mother Marianne, who risked their lives to care for and minister to its people.
There are only a few remaining residents of Kalaupapa. Sent there by force, they chose to remain after the restriction was lifted when a cure was discovered. For them Kalaupapa is home. Part of a tradition and story to be told and never forgotten.
The important thing for us is to remember our ‘ohana who have passed on. We’re the last of the legacy. We need to let people know we existed.
-Kuulei Bell from “Casting Remembrances of Kalaupapa” by Anwei Law and Valerie Monson
So what was I doing there? Excellent question.
Our church, Island Family Christian Church, has a long-standing relationship with Kalaupapa. For over twenty years small groups have flown from Oahu to Molokai to do service projects in the community. A couple of years ago we had the privilege of going on one of these trips. Although landing on the single runway of the tiny airport is a Dramamine waiting to happen, this was a rare opportunity. Visitors are restricted to those sponsored by one of the remaining residents.
It’s perfect Hawaii weather. A gentle breeze. The roar of the ocean. Breathtaking panoramic views of the peninsula. Then as we enter, we see one of the many graveyards. Tombstones that represent lives lost to a debilitating disease. One of our friends searches for his last name. Members of his family were sent here.
Remnants of an old town still exist. A small gas station. A general store. Small houses. Churches from various religious backgrounds. We’re shown the dock where ships come in to deliver food and supplies. We’re in a place very much in flux. The remaining residents live out the rest of their days while the national park service, who began preserving Kalaupapa in 1980, collects stories and artifacts. We visit an archive where pictures, furniture, clothes, diaries, and more are being carefully catalogued so their story will be told to future generations. I see a picture of one of my favorite comedians who came to entertain the residents.
In the mornings we do yard work at one of the churches and its neighboring parsonage. We mow the lawn, cut branches, rake leaves. We’re not really on any time schedule. Time moves peacefully and slowly. One of our friends teaches this Haole kid the proper way to shuck a coconut.
In the afternoons we explore. At night we hang out at the general store and visit with residents and park service employees. We play cards. Someone strums a ukulele and leads a group song or two. We then retire to a one room house, set up cots, and continue to talk story. Sleep comes easy.
One afternoon Christi and I hiked the long trail that leads up from Kalaupapa to the topside of Molokai. Although tempting, we decided not to take the guided mule ride, but went the ole walking stick route. On our way up we ran into two people we met at the general store the night before. They told us their truck was at the top, and if we wanted, we could use it to drive around the island. When she handed me her keys and told me the doors were unlocked, I knew I wasn’t in Chicago anymore. What really tickled my fancy ( I, Anthony Silano, hereby solemnly swear to never use that expression again ), is that it was a Toyota pick-up truck just like the one I drove in high school.
We were there for only four days and three nights but it’s one of those places that will stay with me forever. I was saddened by it. I was inspired. I was in awe.
One of the days I sat by the water and tried to capture some of whats spinning through my mind. Black ink to Moleskin I wrote:
I feel for the families who were torn apart and the lives lost to the disease. For those who picked up their cross and followed Christ to serve here, and for the residents who remained, they have my deepest respect and admiration. As I sit here at its point in history..where it’ll soon be all a memory..and conversations full of heavy hearts, shaken heads with arms crossed, asking is human kind capable again of such brutality and misunderstanding?…I hope people will also see this place as a testament of the human spirit to endure and do the best with the cards they’re dealt. As I strain to see the top of the great cliff wall of the island coast that separates Kalaupapa from the rest of Molokai…I hope there were moments in their despair the people here felt the arms of God outstretched holding them close, embracing them as his children…separated from the rest not because of their illness…but because of their beauty.
Bonus Feature
( Yes, I like saying bonus feature even though it’s clearly part of the whole and there’s really nothing bonus about it )
Thanks for sharing in the journey,
A
music in video by Sonny Chillingworth: Dream Slack Key
About the author
I work as a chaplain and play as a comedian and singer-songwriter. My wife and I met in Chicago and have lived in Honolulu and Portland, OR. We now chase our two daughters, Naomi and Leona, around Santa Rosa, California.
Anthony, this is a beautiful blog post! I didn’t realize you two had done this, or if I knew it, I forgot about it! What a wonderful experience! Thank you for sharing! Love ya, Auntie Sara