FAMILY MATTERS
Men hamper successful laundry routine
By Ka'ohua Lucas
OK, I'll admit the hallway is dark. And the forest-green hamper sort of blends in with the tongue-and-groove redwood wall.
But really, I simply cannot fathom the excuses that emerge from the lips of the men in my family.
"I'm not lying, Mom," the 12-year-old will confess. "I didn't see the hamper."
Oh, please. If it had feet, it easily could have tripped you.
Someone explain to me why a dirty shirt or a soiled pair of pants cannot find its way to the hamper.
It's not as if it has been hidden. Tucked away so that no one can find it. The canister rests in the hallway of our house, the focal point for visitors. But for some unknown reason, the dirty clothes it is expected to envelop never quite seem to find their way into its fold.
"And he shoots from the outside," my 8-year-old announces, wadding his T-shirt into a ball. "But he misses the three-point shot. The crowd goes wild!"
"Excuse me, Michael Jordan," I interrupt. "Would you mind retrieving your shirt and slam-dunking it into the hamper?"
"Wait, wait, Mom," he says, stripping off his shorts. "You gotta see this."
Michael Jordan would never refuse to retrieve his basketball after missing an outside shot. Why is my son who aspires to be like him so different?
Today as I write, I can see the empty hamper. A T-shirt hangs limply over the lip of the canister. A beige pair of shorts is stuffed into the corner.
A trail of jeans and underwear lead from my sons' room to the hamper. A wet clump of towels lies at its base.
Why is it so difficult to toss dirty laundry in the hamper?
Before the arrival of Capt. James Cook in the Islands, early Hawaiian males wore nothing more than a malo, and women a pa'u skirt.
These items were made by Hawaiian women from kapa.
"Kapa was waterproofed and strengthened by saturating it in kukui, kamani and perhaps coconut oil," writes the late Dr. Donald Kilolani Mitchell.
"Kapa was perfumed by placing among the folds the leaves of the maile vine, berries of the mokihana or powdered heartwood of the sandalwood tree or 'iliahi."
There was no soap to clean the malo or pa'u skirt.
"Soiled garments were placed in a stream of clear flowing water and weighted with stones," writes Mitchell. "When the water-soluble dirt was washed away, the kapa was squeezed, spread out and dried. It could not be rubbed as is done today with the cotton substitute."
I know we will never revert to a time with fewer clothes to care for. But it's time the men in my family got with the program.
Komo mai kau mapuna hoe.
(Put in your dip of the paddle.)
Pitch in!
Ka'ohua Lucas is a mother of three and holds a master's degree in education curriculum and instruction. Reach her at: Family Matters, 'Ohana Section, The Advertiser, P.O. Box 3110, Honolulu, HI 96802; or by e-mail at ohana@honoluluadvertiser.com; or fax 535-8170.
