Hāpuʻupuʻu

1.  Young hāpu'u ferns that have not yet developed trunks.  
2.  Young stage of hāpu'u fish. 
3. rough, bumpy, piimpled. 
4.  A mound, as for playing marbles.  
5.  sweet potato sprouts.  
6.  a variety of taro.

        Okay, here in Hawai'i most people know the hāpuʻu fern.  Now you know that before it has a trunk it is hāpuʻupuʻu.  But the main translation I want to focus on is the fourth one.  A mound.
        Remember playing marbles small kid time?  Had one hand spam, kinikini or kini, and hapupū?  Well, that hapupū is actually hāpuʻupuʻu.  I suppose if you say hāpuʻupuʻu fast enough it comes out sounding like hapupü.  As far as marbles are concerned hāpuʻupuʻu was that mound you made.  What was that hāpuʻupuʻu used for in marbles?  Darn if I can remember.  I loved playing marbles.  I bet a lot of you can remember what your best kini looked like.  You know, your favorite marble.  Was it a clearie?  A bamboocha?  Cat eyes?  And remember using that blue velvet crown royal bag for your marbles?  I never had one so I was envious of those who did.  My dad was a beer drinker.  Those were the days.  Hey, if you remember the function of the hāpuʻupuʻu leave a comment below!

Uluhe

False staghorn ferns

       My son, in his earlier pig hunting days, was relating a story to me and mentioned the uluis...needless to say, I paused in thought and then asked him what the uluis are.  I soon realized that he was referring to the uluhe fern, found in abundance on hillsides along the Hāmākua Coast.  The uluhe grows so thick that it gives the false impression that there is land right under it but in reality there might be a huge lua or pit and you don't even know it.  Well, a long lecture ensued in which I explained to my son how it is now his duty to teach his fellow pig hunter friends that the plant is really the uluhe, it should not have an "s" at the end (no Hawaiian word should!), and the end sound is en "eh" sound, rather than "ee" as in eek.
        Uluhe is a native forest fern and can grow 10 to 15 feet long and make a tangled mess.  It can be difficult to walk through as it covers ditches and hides cliffs well.  Amongst its good qualities, it prevents the growth of non-native plants in forest regions by shading out the sun to anything it overtakes.  Hawaiians used the uluhe as a laxative tea.

Pala uluhe - ripened in uluhe fern leaves
(A term of derision applied by the shore-dwellers of Ka'ū, Hawai'i, to the uplanders, who were poor farmers.  They ripened their bananas in pits lined and covered with uluhe fern leaves, instead of allowing the bananas to ripen in the field.)

Punia

1. to be surrounded, controlled. 
2. to be fond of, desired, to be liked. 
3. to be deceived or deluded. 
4. completed.  
5.  head cold.
6. a kind of coconut.

       Actually if you look up the word puni you will see the translations of 1-4 above.  Punia is actually the passive/imperative form of puni (this probably makes more sense to the advanced language learners).  ʻIa is usually the passive marker (peku = to kicked; peku ʻia - to be kicked).  But with punia, it's a combination of puni + ʻia.  There are some other Hawaiian words similar to this. 
Punia is not used very often in spoken Hawaiian but is found more often in song, poetry, and older literature.  Here are some examples:

Ke ʻala o ka lauaʻe, punia ai ka nahele - the fragrance of the laua'e fern permeates the forest.

Aloha wale ku'u kaikunāne ē, ua punia au - Alas for my brother, I am overcome with grief.

Punia kuʻu lei i ke ʻala o ke aloha - My beloved is surrounded by the sweet scent of love.

Poʻo Huaʻi

splitting headache

Nothing like a poʻo huaʻi to generate today's word!  Totally unrelated is the poʻo huaʻi lama or the splitting headache or hangover caused by liquor (lama = rum or any type of liquor).  Poʻo is the Hawaiian word for head and huaʻi literally means to dig up, pour forth, break forth; to churn water.  That pretty much describes a splitting headache well.  Just like those ship propellers churning away in your head.  Ouch.  I'm not going to forget this word as long as this poʻo huaʻi lasts.

ʻEha kuʻu poʻo i ke poʻo huaʻi - My head is in pain with a splitting headache.

ʻAnae

Fulll-sized ʻamaʻama mullet fish

The mullet (both at the ʻamaʻama and the ʻanae stage) was and is the most important of the fresh or brackish water fish for Hawaiians.  It is delicious both raw and cooked and is considered somewhat a delicacy. 

Because fish is such an important food source in Hawaiʻi there are names not only for the different stages of a fishes life but for the mullet there are different names for the different seasonal migration period it is in.  For instance, when they are migrating they are called ʻanae-holo (travelling mullet).  When they remain off shore or returned from the journey, they re called ʻanae-pali (cliff mullet).   But when are they known as an ʻanae as opposed to ʻamaʻama?  ʻAmaʻama is about eight inches long and ʻanae is anything about 12 inches or more. 

Here are a couple of place names given to honor the ʻanae:

Waiʻanae - Mullet water.  (located on O'ahu) Now, because I have spent MANY years growing up in Waiʻanae I am particularly sensitive to its pronunciation.  People tend to say "Waenae" (why-nye) when referring to this district on Oʻahu's leeward shore.  Please be more attentive to its correct pronunciation:  Wai = water.  ʻAnae = mullet.
ʻAnaehoʻomalu - restricted or protected mullet. (located on Hawaiʻi island)

Keʻanae - the mullet. (located on Maui)

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Kākiʻo

mange, impetigo, itch, itching pustules of the skin

Growing up, us small kids always had kākiʻo somewhere on our bodies, but the way it was used I always assumed it was synonymous with "owies" or scabs. "kākiʻo leg," "no pick your kākiʻo" were commonly heard around everybody's house (and not only aimed towards me!). But it occurred to me just this past weekend as I saw my granddaughter's leg, mosquito bites scratched till they bled, with plenty kākiʻo that it's a word I don't hear too often anymore. And the translation in the dictionary is by far worse than what I assumed it meant. Nevertheless, if I am correct in my assumption that its use is diminishing I say we all make every attempt to revive it! Tell your kid clean his owies good or else going be kākiʻo. Make your daughter wear long pants riding bicycle so she no get kākiʻo if she fall down (painful memory on that one!).

So, what is the word for owie? ʻEha works well. ʻEha means ache, pain, sore.

Scab? Pāpaʻa, yes, pāpaʻa, like burnt or crispy. Same. Kinda looks the same, too, huh?

E hoʻōla hou kākou i ka huaʻōlelo "kākiʻo "
Let us revitalize the word "kākiʻo" in honor of all our kupuna who used it on us!

Hahano

enema

         Not a pleasant word to most of us.  My memories of hahano mostly come from small kid time, from my tūtū wahine, my grandmother.  Hahano was her "cure-all."  Don't be telling her you weren't feeling well!  It was either hahano or castor oil!  Both horrific!
        The kahuna lāʻau lapaʻau, or healing "physician" who healed using medicinal herbs, would use hahano as an integral part of healing certain ailments.  It would mostly be given to prepare the patient for medicines that would be given later.  An example of a hahano might consist of placing two handsful of salt in a container with a little water and letting it stand overnight.  In the morning the salt water was warmed before being put to use (I'm cringing just thinking about it!).  Juice of the ʻilima or a mashed kukui nut might be added.
        Boy, used to be that whenever you were giving birth, first thing they did to you in the hospital?  You got it!  Hahano!  Thank goodness that practice ended after my first baby was born.  Never wanted to do that again as "cleansed" as it made me feel!
        I bet you're wondering how those Hawaiians actually gave the enema.  I mean I'm sure they didn't have those rubber contraptions my tūtū used (and it always stared down at me in the shower!).  They would use either a small gourd with a long neck or bamboo.
        Enough hahano talk.  I'm getting queasy.  And I'm sure many of you are, too, reliving those memories.