Hawaiian Culture

Slack key guitar, or kī hōʻalu, is more than just a style of playing guitar; it’s a living, breathing embodiment of Hawaiian history and culture. It’s a uniquely Hawaiian musical tradition with roots stretching back to the 19th century, and its soulful sounds carry the stories of generations, the beauty of the islands, and the spirit of aloha. What Exactly IS Slack Key Guitar? Imagine a sound that’s both soothing and invigorating, intricate yet deeply personal. That’s essentially what slack key guitar delivers. Unlike standard guitar tuning, slack key involves altering the tuning pegs to loosen or “slack” certain

The Waa Kiakahi Canoe Festival on Maui draws eight teams of six paddlers who race 45-foot outrigger canoes 27 miles from Kahului to Kaanapali. They navigate by compass, wind, and swell—no GPS, no electronics. The race takes roughly three hours, and when the canoes hit the shorebreak, everyone on the beach rushes to help drag them in. This is not a relic. It is a living, evolving practice that connects modern Hawaiians to voyaging traditions more than 1,600 years old. “The Wa’a shaped the Hawaiian people physically, intellectually and spiritually as much as the Hawaiians shaped the logs that

Pele, the fiery goddess of volcanoes, lightning, wind, and dance, is more than just a figure in Hawaiian mythology; she’s interwoven into the very fabric of Hawaiian culture, influencing art, traditions, and the relationship between the people and their land. Understanding Pele is understanding a significant part of what makes Hawaii unique. You’ll see her presence everywhere, if you know where to look. Pele’s Origins and Family The story of Pele begins far from the Hawaiian Islands. According to legend, she originated from Kahiki (often associated with Tahiti), and her parents were Haumea (a primordial earth goddess) and Kane

Four lāʻau lapaʻau experts — Kapaemāhū, Kahaloa, Kapuni, and Kinohi — are said to have infused stones in Waikīkī with healing power. Those stones remain there today, a physical reminder that Hawaiian medicine has never been merely about plants. Walk past the hotels and retail shops of Waikīkī and you could miss them. Four large stones, set back from the sand near the police station on Kalākaua Avenue, sit quietly under a hau tree. Known as the Kapaemāhū stones, they are tied to four lapaʻau experts who, according to oral tradition, transferred their healing energy into the stone before

In 1819, French botanist Charles Gaudichaud-Beaupré noted that women in the Hawaiian Islands changed their plant adornments by season, using fragrant flowers, colored fruits, and leaves as living attire. What he documented was not mere decoration — it was a practice rooted in the belief that the spirit (mana) of the maker is woven into every strand, and that giving a lei means giving a part of yourself. At least 90 percent of Hawaiʻi’s dry forests have been lost to invasive species, wildfires, and urban development. Native plants that once supplied lei makers are now among the most endangered

In the lo’i kalo, the flooded terraces that step down Hawaiian valleys, a single corm is pushed into the mud by hand. Months later, that corm will yield a plant whose leaves reach waist-high and whose underground stem — the corm itself — will be pulled, cooked, and pounded into poi. This cycle, repeated across generations, is the foundation of a relationship Hawaiians describe as familial. According to the Bishop Museum’s historical record of kalo, Hawaiian myth holds that taro was the elder brother of man — a sibling, not a crop. This article traces taro’s journey from a

Imagine setting sail into the vast, unknown expanse of the Pacific Ocean, with nothing but the stars, the waves, and your own wits to guide you. This is precisely what the ancient Polynesians did, and their incredible feats of navigation allowed them to settle thousands of islands scattered across this immense body of water. Their mastery wasn’t just about knowing where to go, but understanding the interconnectedness of nature and embedding that knowledge into their culture, a testament to the ingenuity that defines the Hawaiian legacy. The Foundation: A Deep Cultural Connection to the Sea The Polynesians didn’t just

In January 2026, a small procession of walkers carrying a banner called the Lonomakua set out from Hālawa Valley on the eastern tip of Molokaʻi. Over the following week they crossed the island section by section, passing through each traditional land division known as an ahupuaʻa, before ending at Kapukahehu Beach on the west side. This foot march, part of the Kā Molokaʻi Makahiki festival, reenacts a practice that once defined the entire Hawaiian archipelago for four months every year — a season when war was suspended, taxes were paid in agricultural goods, and communities gathered for feasting and

The Hawaiian language, or ‘Ōlelo Hawai‘i, once teetering on the brink of extinction, is experiencing a powerful resurgence. This revival is not just about preserving words; it’s about reclaiming a cultural identity, reconnecting with ancestral wisdom, and revitalizing the very soul of the Hawaiian Islands. So, how is this incredible comeback happening, and how can you be part of it? The Dark Days: Understanding the Suppression To truly appreciate the current revival, we need to understand the historical context. The late 19th and early 20th centuries were a period of immense cultural suppression for Native Hawaiians. Following the overthrow

Kānaka ʻŌiwi (Native Hawaiians) built heiau — often translated as “temples” or “places of worship” — that ranged from simple fishing shrines of stacked coral to massive stone platforms covering acres. At Puʻukoholā Heiau on Hawaiʻi Island, an estimated 600,000 workers passed stones hand-to-hand from Pololū Valley, 20 miles away, to construct the great luakini heiau dedicated to the war god Kūkaʻilimoku in 1790–1791. That scale of coordinated labor, directed by Kamehameha I without metal tools or mortar, raises a question that still drives archaeological debate: did heiau function primarily as political consolidation machines, religious centers, or something else