Family Matters
Newest members of 'ohana expected to contribute
By Ka'ohua Lucas
Many of you may be familiar with the 'olelo no'eau, or wise saying, "Ho'okahi no la o ka malihini." A stranger only for a day.
This proverb refers to a person who visits the home of another. After the first day as a guest, one must help with the work.
I try to live by this 'olelo no'eau, impressing upon my children how important it is "not to make house" when they visit others.
"OK, boys, when you went to visit Nana the other day, did you help out?"
"Yeah, we did, Mom," the 11-year-old grinned. "She insisted that we have another pancake. So I helped her out by having five."
"What?"
"Nah, I'm only joking," he said.
"We helped Nana, Mommy," my 7-year-old chirped. "We cleared the table and helped her bake cookies."
"Good job!" I said.
The other day I had an appointment to cut my hair but failed to write it down on my calendar and missed it altogether.
My hairdresser, who has been cutting my hair for the past 10 years, called around 9 a.m.
"Did you miss something?" she asked.
"Oh no, did I have an appointment with you?"
"Uh, yes, you did." She sounded a little too cheery. "When can you reschedule?""
Two days later I showed up at her hair salon — 10 minutes early, mind you.
As I settled into the barber's chair, my hairdresser began telling me about a pain in her back.
Apparently, she was on the phone with a friend when an excruciating spasm erupted in a back muscle just below her shoulder blade.
As I have known my hairdresser for a decade, we have become very close, and naturally I sympathized, offering to lomilomi (massage) her.
Assuming she would say, "No, no, no, I'm OK," I relaxed in the chair waiting for her scissors to do their magic.
But no sooner was the proposition made than she accepted and asked me to begin immediately on her right shoulder.
Naturally, I was taken aback, but remembered that I had missed my appointment and was wracked with guilt.
This was my penance.
"OK, do you have a stool or something that you can sit on while I massage your shoulder?" I asked.
"Oh," she said with a brief look of disappointment. "Can you stand while I sit in the chair?"
"Oh, yeah, sure," I said, struggling out of the comfortable leather.
For 20 minutes, I kneaded the knot in her strained muscle.
By the time I was finished, I felt I needed some ibuprofen to relieve the arthritic pain searing through the joints of my hands.
"Geez, how do you feel about that?" a fellow hairdresser asked. "She makes you pay a penalty for missing your appointment by having you massage her. Then she charges you for the haircut and expects a tip? What kind of person is that?"
My hairdresser just smiled and gave me a hug.
"You should feel privileged," she said. "You have been elevated in status."
"And how's that?" I asked, unconvinced.
"You went from regular client to friend. Now you have advanced yourself to the level of 'ohana."
I'm a firm believer in practicing values at home. I also support the idea of 'ohana nui (extended family).
But don't you think my hairdresser has taken this to an — oh, I better be careful what I say.
Someday I may come home as a blonde.
Ka'ohua Lucas has an 18-year-old daughter and two sons, 11 and 7. She holds a master's degree in education curriculum and instruction, and works as an educational consultant on Hawaiian curriculum. Write: Family Matters, 'Ohana Section, The Honolulu Advertiser, P.O. Box 3110, Honolulu, HI 96802; e-mail ohana@honoluluadvertiser.com or fax 535-8170.
