5.07.2004
Hapa-Haole-Kanaka-Pake
Hawaii is the Melting Pot of the Pacific. Many of my childhood friends were of Phillipino, Japanese, Chinese, Hawaiian, Korean, or Portuguese decent. Even more were a combination of a few or all of these ethnicities. From the get go, I knew that I fit into the 'hapa' category (a Hawaiian term used to describe people of mixed ethnic heritage). My mom is Hawaiian-Chinese and my dad is a midwestern mix of Norwegian, English, French, and Irish...what many people in Hawaii would call 'haole', or, Caucasian. Early on in my education I learned that despite being hapa, I was considered haole by most of my peers because of my light complexion. This made fitting in a bit difficult and I quickly learned pidgin-english, the local slang language, which helped me adjust and make friends. In high school I was occasionally reminded of my haole status but I never felt that it meant anything other than Caucasian.
And then came college.
For Hawaii kids going away to college on the mainland there's a lot to adjust to: wearing your shoes in the house, thermal underwear, potatoes instead of rice, no spam musubi, no saimin at McDonalds, flip-flops instead of slippahs, no loco moco for breakfast, the list goes on. Soon after I learned to cook ramen in my 3-cup rice cooker, I found out that I was no longer the 'haole girl'. Apparently, in the eyes of my Caucasian colleagues, I was the Hawaiian girl with the thick dark hair and wide nose. Jokes about pineapples and grass shacks peppered the cafeteria line. My years of speaking pidgin-english left me with a "funny" accent and long distant calls to my friends became laugh-fests for my ease-dropping roommates. To say it was tough is an understatement. It was hell. If I got upset, I was a dork. If I played along, I was a puppet. The whole thing was foreign to me because in Hawaii, ethnic humor makes people come together to laugh about their differences. On the mainland, it made me feel like crap. So after many homesick calls crying to family and friends, I had to make a decision to either go home or stick it out and learn to adjust. I chose to stay and graduate which meant learning to be sarcastic and slide past the pineapple jokes. I wasn’t alone in my adjusting. There were a few other students from Hawaii that I met up with to talk story, make spam musubi, and listen to The Brothers Cazimero. I was also lucky to have met some mainland friends who possessed the spirit of aloha and invited me into their homes for the holidays. These were the people who got me through the “Actually, Hawaii is a state of the US” conversations. To them I am eternally grateful.
Here are some Hapa related websites and articles:
The Hapa Project - I found this site through Caterina Fake's wonderful weblog
Hapa Issues Forum
The Emerging Hapa Community
And then came college.
For Hawaii kids going away to college on the mainland there's a lot to adjust to: wearing your shoes in the house, thermal underwear, potatoes instead of rice, no spam musubi, no saimin at McDonalds, flip-flops instead of slippahs, no loco moco for breakfast, the list goes on. Soon after I learned to cook ramen in my 3-cup rice cooker, I found out that I was no longer the 'haole girl'. Apparently, in the eyes of my Caucasian colleagues, I was the Hawaiian girl with the thick dark hair and wide nose. Jokes about pineapples and grass shacks peppered the cafeteria line. My years of speaking pidgin-english left me with a "funny" accent and long distant calls to my friends became laugh-fests for my ease-dropping roommates. To say it was tough is an understatement. It was hell. If I got upset, I was a dork. If I played along, I was a puppet. The whole thing was foreign to me because in Hawaii, ethnic humor makes people come together to laugh about their differences. On the mainland, it made me feel like crap. So after many homesick calls crying to family and friends, I had to make a decision to either go home or stick it out and learn to adjust. I chose to stay and graduate which meant learning to be sarcastic and slide past the pineapple jokes. I wasn’t alone in my adjusting. There were a few other students from Hawaii that I met up with to talk story, make spam musubi, and listen to The Brothers Cazimero. I was also lucky to have met some mainland friends who possessed the spirit of aloha and invited me into their homes for the holidays. These were the people who got me through the “Actually, Hawaii is a state of the US” conversations. To them I am eternally grateful.
Here are some Hapa related websites and articles:
The Hapa Project - I found this site through Caterina Fake's wonderful weblog
Hapa Issues Forum
The Emerging Hapa Community
