Kiyoshi's Poetic Vision of Kahana

Although Milton Murayama is adept at uncovering the harsher realities of the mid-20th century plantation lifestyle, there are a few passages that paint a more loving picture of Kahana. In the sixth section/chapter of All I Asking for Is My Body, Murayama writes:

"When Tosh didn't come by nine, mother sent me to look for him. I headed straight for Citizens' or Single Men's Quarters near the bathhouse. Kahana became a dense dark forest at night. Naked bulbs on lonely telephone poles lit the rutted road and rain ditches at every intersection. Hibiscus hedges surrounded every yard, and every yard grew ferns, orchids, night flowers, avocado, mango, papaya, soursap, lime, pomegranate, banana, and star fruit. Tall eucalyptus ringed the whole camp and lined the main roads, and there was always a breeze rustling in the night. The stars glittered more brightly than in Pepelau" (Murayama 45).

I was presently surprised to find this gem of a passage nestled away in a chapter that is otherwise wrought with much Oyama family turmoil. Despite the many conflicts and combative moments throughout the book, it was a relief to find Murayama's (few) recollections of Kahana's beautiful landscape. In this particular excerpt, the plantation becomes an imaginative "dense dark forest," where Kiyoshi's poetic vision suddenly takes control of the narrative. This scene simultaneously reveals the rich milieu of the plantation while more deeply establishing Kiyoshi as a character of profound insight.

The "rutted road and rain ditches" line allows a more realized portrait of the haunting imagery of the plantation while also transitioning to an indelible prose-styled paragraph. The list of plants and food reads almost like a prayer -- Kiyoshi's praise for the many hidden treasures waiting to be discovered. The final line draws a comparison between the Pepelau plantation and the Kahana plantation. It's not entirely clear why the stars glitter brighter in Kahana; perhaps Kiyoshi is merely growing into his writer mind and is increasingly conscious of the poetics of the plantation life, or maybe Kahana itself is a warmer and inherently more poetic plantation. The latter seems a more promising answer, especially as the following paragraph delves into the kinship experienced in the camp.

"There was another thing I'd come to like about the camp. The hundred Japanese families were like one big family. Everybody knew everybody else, everybody was friendly, nobody beat up anybody. I would've gotten into a couple of fights if I were a new student at Pepelau, but the guys in Kahana were open and friendly from the start. They made you feel welcome and invited you to go to the mountains or the ocean. Nobody was left out" (Murayama 45).

In this loving paragraph, Murayama perfectly encapsulates the all-inclusive mentality of the Kahana plantation.  Frustrated with his own family's dysfunction, Kiyoshi finds comfort in the kindness of other Kahana plantation families. Again, Hawaiian land makes a valuable poetic appearance, as Kiyoshi discovers the plantation members' kinship through their invitation to "go to the mountains or the ocean." The fragile and deeply stirring bond between individuals and the land catches Kiyoshi's observant thoughts; furthermore, it plays a subtle role in establishing bonds between essentially unfamiliar plantation members. Far more than a merely passive narrator, Kiyoshi affirms his powerful vision through these two paragraphs and in doing so, unearths the sublime wonders of the Kahana landscape and its welcoming residents.

-Jon Vorpe