FAMILY MATTERS
Some food for thought is a driving force
By Ka'ohua Lucas
There are two things my daughter enjoys doing most: eating and going to the beach. In that order.
The first thing we did when she returned home for Christmas vacation was to have lunch at one of her favorite places, Sam Choy's.
While dining, we discussed what we would have for dinner. It's ironic how someone so small — she stands 5-foot-7 and is less than 120 pounds — can pack it away and still look like a runway model.
We have always eaten well, unlike our Hawaiian kupuna (ancestors), who often fell on hard times.
In Mary Kawena Pukui's book, "'Olelo No'eau," there is a wise saying: He hapu'u ka 'ai he 'ai make.
Translated: If the hapu'u is the food, it is the food of death.
In old-time Hawai'i, the hapu'u fern was used to sustain life in times of famine.
"There was the cutting, the preparation of the imu, and three whole days during which the hapu'u cooked," writes Pukui.
"If the food was done then, hunger was stayed; if not, there was another long delay, and by that time someone may have starved to death."
My daughter has been blessed because she has never had to face the challenge of extreme hunger. But that was about to change.
I was on a mall mission: To exchange unwanted Christmas gifts. However, she had something else on her mind: food.
We had been in the mall for no longer than 15 minutes.
"Are you hungry?" I asked.
"No, I can wait," was her clipped response.
When I looked at her, she seemed distracted. Her skin had taken on an ashen pallor. Her eyes were sullen.
I could see a small pulse near her jaw line, an indication of grinding teeth.
"What are you 'ono (craving) for?" I asked casually.
"Thai food," she said without hesitation.
I looked at my watch. It was 1:30 p.m.
"I think your favorite place closes at 2 and reopens at 5 for dinner. Can you wait until then?"
"No."
Under normal circumstances, I would have insisted we finish our business and then eat. But when she took off toward the car in a clipped, no-nonsense manner, I knew she was hungry.
There would be no convincing her to wait. So I scurried after her. As we exited the mall, the wind and rain kicked up. Neither of us had an umbrella, so we hurried to the car.
She reached it first and leaped in.
Under normal conditions, she would unlock my door. But not this time.
As I fumbled with the car keys, she was rooting through the glove compartment for the Chao Phya Thai Restaurant menu.
She punched in the restaurant's phone number to confirm we would be served even if we arrived 15 minutes before closing.
I had to drive two miles across town to satisfy my daughter's craving. But it was well worth it.
Her disposition improved.
And we returned to the mall to finish our order of business.
Le'ale'a ka 'olelo i ka pohu aku o loko.
Talk is pleasant when hunger is satisfied.
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; at ohana@honoluluadvertiser.com; or fax 525-8055.
