FAMILY MATTERS
Advice on expanding house proved invaluable
By Ka'ohua Lucas
"I want a big house like that," my 8-year-old said, pointing at a hollow-tile home perched on a rocky cliff.
"Now what would you do with a large house like that?" I asked.
"Have my own room and a huge rumpus room just for the boys," he said.
Our own house is small by most standards. Under the roof, we have about 900 square feet. But we bought our property because we were more interested in a large yard than a large home.
When we moved in three years ago, the first thing we wanted to do was expand the three-bedroom, one-bath redwood house. But our architect friend said to wait and watch.
"Watch for what?" I asked.
"Live in the house for a year before you do anything," he said. "Learn about the area. Which direction does the wind blow? How does the rain fall?"
I thought his response a little odd. But, hey, he was the expert. So we waited and watched.
His was the best bit of advice anyone could have offered us.
We now know it rains incessantly, pelting the mauka side of our home.
"Batten down the hatches!" I yell as the children run from room to room securing the louvered jalousies.
When the wind kicks up, we don our jackets and run outside to tie down items that could be lost under hurricanelike conditions.
In early Hawai'i, the head of a family would not build without consulting first with a kuhikuhi pu'uone, or one who is skilled at picking good sites.
"The picking of a good site was imperative, as a bad one brought trouble to the family," writes E.S. Craighill Handy and Mary Kawena Pukui in "The Polynesian Family System in Ka'u."
"For a kuhikuhi pu'uone knew that a home should not stand at the base of a cliff where there was danger of a landslide; should not stand between two ponds where there was a danger of keeping the house constantly damp and cold. ... A home was not just a place to live in, but there was a certain personal quality acquired by each home that either held the family in a warm, friendly, loving embrace, or pushed and repulsed them and others who came within its boundary."
Therefore, the kuhikuhi pu'uone was always consulted, so that the grounds and home and family would form a happy unit instead of an unhappy one.
We may not — anytime soon — be able to build that rumpus room my son has his heart set on. But we are certainly better aware of the wind and the rain in our environment. And we are holding out for a house for which we will be glad we waited.
Ka'ohua Lucas has an 18-year-old daughter and two sons, 11 and 8. She has a master's degree in education curriculum and instruction, and works as an educational consultant on Hawaiian curriculum. Write to her at: Family Matters, 'Ohana Section, The Honolulu Advertiser, P.O. Box 3110, Honolulu, HI 96802; e-mail ohana@honoluluadvertiser.com or fax 535-8170.
