Rooted in culture

At first glance you might think Malcolm Chun’s yard in Wai­alae Nui is an unkempt jungle, with tall weeds growing along the sidewalk out front.

Look closer, though, and you will see Chun has carefully cultivated his quarter-acre garden to replicate a Hawaiian forest, with an extensive canopy of shade trees sheltering a collection of native plants and shrubs below.

As for the strip out front, the "weeds" (which caused the city to cite Chun a few years back) are pili grass indigenous to Hawaii. He started growing them a few years ago to donate to Bishop Museum as thatching material.

Chun, a translator of Hawaiian historical documents and author of more than 20 books, is not so interested in having a manicured lawn and perfectly trimmed hedges as he is in growing a native Hawaiian garden.

For him it makes a lot of sense.

"I mean, where else are you going to have one?" he said. "It’s my culture. It’s who I am. If you want to think like a Hawaiian, you better start doing things like a Hawaiian."

He’s been collecting plants for his yard since the mid-1970s, with about half coming from Lyon Arboretum in Manoa, where he was a volunteer for more than 20 years.

Most impressive are several ohia lehua trees that produce red, orange and yellow blossoms.

Chun, a former lei contest judge, grew them from saplings. Now some are as tall as his two-story home.

Passers-by on the front sidewalk can take in the fragrance of endangered native gardenia bushes called nau (gardenia brighamii). Until recent conservation efforts, only one of the plants remained in the wild on Oahu.

Despite the $100 city fine, tall pili grass continues to grow on the sidewalk strip, interwoven with native ohai, nanea and pohina­hina.

Chun says it keeps dogs from pooping there and soil from being washed into the gutter.

By his mailbox Chun has an uha­loa, which to the untrained eye might look like a weed but is a valuable plant in traditional Hawaiian medicine.

A hedge of kokio kea, or white Hawaiian hibiscus, leads up to his home, accented by a sculpture of the goddess Hina that is appropriately surrounded by several wauke, or paper mulberry trees, used to make kapa.

To create a shade canopy, Chun planted several trees, among them a koa, two ulu (breadfruit) — one native to Hawaii and one from the Cook Islands — kou, lono­mea (also known as Oahu soapberry) and lama (Hawaiian persimmon tree).

It took several decades, at least, to create his garden, and a lot of patience.

"People, if they’re interested in doing this kind of thing, they need to be patient," said Chun.

"It’s not this instant kind of tropical garden."

But the rewards are there. Native plants, especially the slow-growing ones, generally need less water once established and are well adapted to the environment.

Chun’s philosophy is to let seeds fall where they may in his garden and to let them grow. "This is part of a forest," he said. "It grows where it wants."

Among his collection of treasures are an endangered uhi­uhi, a rare species of flowering plant in the pea family, and hala­pepe, a rare plant used in hula ceremonies. He also has loulu palms and several native bananas, including a rare variegated banana plant.

CHUN’S inspiration is his late grandfather William Akana, who was knowledgeable about traditional Hawaiian healing.

"He had this love for plants," said Chun. "He always took me to the garden."

He has a vivid childhood memory of waiting for his grandfather one day as he went into an outhouse, urinated in a can and then mixed it with water for his plants.

"That was his secret," said Chun, who swears by it.

For Chun, caring for a garden is a way of connecting with the land. He waters often by hand, which he says is the best way to care for plants.

Chun started volunteering at Lyon Arboretum in 1974 and became an assistant for the late kalo (taro) curator Donald Anderson, helping him tend to at least 200 varieties.

On a terraced slope at his home, Chun has about 10 different varieties of kalo. One of his favorites is uahi-a-pele ("smoke of Pele") because of the smoky appearance of its purple-and-green leaves.

Chun believes it’s important to preserve heritage plants by growing them rather than cloning them.

"If we lose any of these," he said, "we lose a heritage and we’re not getting it back."