Akua Lele

Kii: Kanaeokana
Nānā i ke kumu (Look to the source). Vol. I
Mary Kawena Pukui
E.W. Haertig, M.D.
Catherine A. Lee
Published by Hui Hānai An Auxiliary of the
QUEEN LILIʻUOKALANI CHILDREN'S CENTER
1300 Halona Street, Honolulu, Hawaii 96817
pgs.25-26
akualele—a "flying god" that was sent on destructive errands.
Deriv: akua, god or spirit.
lele, to fly, leap or jump as from a cliff.
Akualele or "flying god" goes back to the belief that certain gods took the form of balls of fire and flew through the air. Whether this belief arose from seeing actual shooting stars or glowing phosphorescence at night is anybody's speculation. However, legends say these gods entered the kauila, nioi or ʻohe trees growing at Maunaloa on Molokai. These trees became poisonous only at the Molokai location; trees of the same family on other islands remained harmless. It seemed obvious that the gods inhabiting the Molokai trees were poison gods. "It is a wondrous thing how these trees became poisonous," says one account.1
Another legend tells that these trees on Molokai were descended from men, and, therefore, were inhabited by the spirits of men. One version relates a dream of seeing men marching to Maunaloa and turning into the trees. When the wood burned, it was thought to give off a smell of blood.
Another account, beginning with a dream, says that when the first tree was cut down, chips of wood touched the bodies of men, killing them instantly.2
At any rate, individuals on Molokai began to keep wood of the poison trees and fashioned images of it. Elaborate protective rituals were developed to keep men handling the wood from being poisoned (coconut water and mimi [urine] were both used).
With the making of god-images of the wood, the ritual of sending the poison god on death-dealing errands began. The image (or perhaps just a piece of wood) was scraped, always at night. This sent the akua or god out on its destructive mission. As the god sped through the night air, it was said to look like a "fireball."
Sending a god or spirit on an errand is called hoʻoūna or hoʻoūnauna. The term is a general one and does not refer specifically to akualele. Sending an ancestral spirit in ʻunihipili is also hoʻoūnauna. (See ʻunihipili).
Associated with, but also not limited to akualele, is another phrase, mālama pūʻolo or "keeping a bundle" for use in sorcery or spirit-sending. The "bundle," in the case of akualele the wood, was usually wrapped in tapa. The kahu or "keeper" of this "bundle" cared for, fed ritually and constantly called upon the spirit inhabiting the bundle. These were essential parts of the spirit-sending ritual. The fateful climax came when the keeper voiced the command for the spirit to fly on its errand. Thoughts had to be put into words before they took effect, either as sorcery spell (ʻanāʻanā) or human-to-human curse (ʻānai).
However, the keeper who sent the spirit out to do harm was endangering himself. The spirit or poison god might be returned with the ritual words, "go back and destroy your keeper." These rituals of sending and returning destructive forces recurred in Hawaiian belief. With akualele, another method of escaping harm could also be used. "Fireballs seen in the sky would burst and become harmless," says Mrs. Pukui, "if you swore at them—Hawaiian style!"
"Hawaiian swearing," she explains, "is not saying ‘damn’; it's using words with nasty meanings." Sacrilegious swearing was unknown.
Keeping an akualele for supernatural errands seems much like ʻunihipili, keeping an ancestor's bones or personal possession as control-medium of the ancestor's spirit. The vast difference is that in akualele rituals, the keeper controlled an impersonal spirit for essentially harmful use. In ʻunihipili, the spirit was that of a close, dearly loved and fairly recently departed relative. This spirit helped or harmed as the keeper requested. The concept here is "recalling the beloved dead."
Belief in "mālama pūʻolo" as a harmful practice is still related by Center clients. One client felt family troubles had increased after an old man moved in with the family. Said the client, "the old man's got something Hawaiian hidden under the bed." On advice of a kahuna, the client got the old man out of the house long enough to discover a pūʻolo or "bundle" which she promptly burned.*
"I heard breathing sounds and cries of pain while it burned. And I think drops of blood came out of it!" said the client. "After the old man discovered the burning, he got mad and moved out."
This is an example of remedial action within the framework of Hawaiian cultural beliefs. The client was disturbed because she believed a traditional pūʻolo was being kept, communicated with and ritually fed. To her this meant that a spirit, sinister and possibly not too quiescent, pervaded her home. With bundle and boarder both out of the house and the spirit consumed in flames, some very troublesome elements were removed. The client was better able to focus on her principal problems.
In some present day examples, walking sticks, canes or heirloom spears of kauila wood have been considered hosts to the poison god. These are not, as far as we know, wrapped in tapa or in any way made into a pūʻolo or "bundle," though in at least one case, "spirit-feeding" lived on. Some instances show fear for the spirit in the wood; others almost affectionate attachment.
About three years ago, Mrs. Pukui was told the following during a visit on Molokai:
"N died, and after death, nobody could stay in the house. Noises! Walking sounds! Everybody felt funny ... uneasy. So N 's family searched and found a kauila cane high up over a window. They took the cane to N 's grave and buried it on top of him and said, ‘Here is your cane. Take it with you and leave us be.’ After that the house was all right. Everybody could sleep."
An almost opposite example—that of attachment—came to Mrs. Pukui's attention at Bishop Museum.
"A very nervous young woman came to the Museum and asked to see a spear her sister had brought in. After she identified it, she asked to come back with offerings ... She came early the next day. With her was a small octopus, a hīnālea (type of fish), a weke (fish) and a small container of poi. After muttering a prayer she ate the food. Then she came smiling to me and said, ‘The stick stays with you, but the spirit goes home with me.’"
The weke signified opening or removal, hīnālea meant "clearance" due to a play on the word lea (clear), even the octopus was once used to make sickness or sorcery "flee," "slip" or "slide out", Mrs. Pukui explained. The woman was ceremonially "freeing" the spirit so it could come back home.
The spear had belonged to the woman's older sister. During family parties, the younger sister had put filled liquor glasses near it and, unknowingly, fed the spirit. After the older sister's death, the spear was given to the museum. It was after this that the younger sister began to be tormented "night after night by something that said ‘Go and get me.’"
The "spirit that was homesick" is one of several modern instances in which the original connotation of harm has been lost. Mrs. Pukui detected no feeling that akualele, instrument of death, lurked in the kauila wood. Rather, the spirit, like a lonesome, devoted pet, wanted to come back to its friend, companion and provider of "food."
If we put the woman's attachment to the spirit within the framework of behavioral sciences, something like this may be seen:
Dr. Haertig suggests two interpretations. Both, he stresses, are speculative and based on no personal professional knowledge of the case.
"In Freudian interpretation, the kauila stick or spear would be the obvious phallic symbol," he says.
"But in Hawaiian cultural belief, kauila wood and its spirit could be male or female. So I would wonder instead about the younger woman's association with her sister. The older sister died. Went away. Then the kauila wood was given to the museum. Went away. The kauila spirit the younger sister was trying to bring back home could be a kind of symbolic focus for the woman's need for and memories of the older sister. She may really have been trying to call back the sister—or at least all the values, memories and associations that her sister represented."
In a quite separate conversation with the editor, Mrs. Pukui recalled that the older sister had "been like a second mother" to the younger woman, and that the younger sister had addressed the kauila spirit as tūtū!*
* "You may also dispose of a pūʻolo by throwing it in the ocean. After your throw it, never look back." M.K. Pukui




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