Growing Up Local

from My Healer by Jean Yamasaki Toyama My grandmother placed her hands on the wife’s back and wiped it with the towel; then she looked at its flesh as if she were measuring a piece of cloth to decide where to lay the pattern. Everything ready, she lit the candle. She poured just a little bit of alcohol in a cup and lit the alcohol. An orange flame leaped out of the cup. She immediately slapped the cup on the damp spot,and the flesh rushed in to fill the glass. Slowly,the dark skin in the cup turned slightly red. Our eyes fixed on the sight of flesh forced into a mound, flesh that now became only color, texture, and shape. from the introduction "Local Genealogy: What School You Went?" by Darrell Lum The typical local party in Hawaiʻi might consist of a buffet table set out on the carport with family and friends sitting on folding chairs or on coolers of beer and soda, talking story. If you are a visitor, sometime soon after the introductions you’ll likely be asked, “What school you went?” Locals know that the question refers to what high school you attended. And that the next question might be, “You know my cousin? He grad in ’97.” Invariably, after a few more questions, a connection is made to a relative who attended your school or a mutual acquaintance who lives n the neighborhood or sometimes the discovery of a distant family relationship (“Eh, my cousin married to your sister-in-law!”). At the same party, the kids call all the older females “Aunty,” whether they are related or not. Local kids have innumerable “aunties,” not all by blood,but all who act as family. In fact, a high school study hall teacher once confessed that the most powerful warning she could use on misbehaving students was, “I know your father,” which made her like an “aunty,” a part of the family. from "A Conservative View" by Cathy Song My mother's thrift frowns on the frivolous-- like singing in the shower (it's a waste of water). Her clear and practical sentences are sprinkled with expressions semantically rooted to the conservation of money. They pepper her observations like expletives-- "Poho" if we bought something we couldn't use. "Humbug" if we have to go out and buy something we don't need. "No need"--her favorite expression of all.