A new generation is taking control of Kauai’s struggling Makaweli Poi Mill with the dream of inspiring young taro farmers to continue producing a brand of poi they consider more appealing to traditional Hawaiian tastes throughout the islands.
The Office of Hawaiian Affairs’ announcement last month that its nonprofit subsidiary, Hi‘ipoi LLC, will give up ownership of the Makaweli Poi Mill after four years stunned customers throughout Hawaii who prefer Makaweli’s thick style of poi, which they say turns sour quicker than others.
But OHA’s decision to pull out of the mill also created an opportunity for nine Kauai volunteers — mostly in their 20s and 30s — to form a nonprofit entity with the goal of guiding Makaweli Poi Mill back to profitability while continuing a tradition of kalo production that goes back generations on Kauai’s southwest side.
Bryna Storch, operations supervisor for the mill, said she hopes the new nonprofit — Ka Piko o Waimea — also will inspire a younger generation of taro farmers to reconnect with the land and with their ancestors.
The key is for potential farmers to take over abandoned taro patchesthroughout Makaweli Valley — a small offshoot of Waimea Valley — to increase production. The mill lost roughly $100,000 in each of the four years it was under OHA control.
"For a lot of folks, Makaweli is not just an icon, it’s not just symbolic," said Storch, who will be executive director of Ka Piko o Waimea. "The mill is the actual living continuum of generations of traditions. The mill provides sustenance for the community. We need the poi mill to eat. We need this poi mill to protect this environment that Native Hawaiians have stewarded for generations. To have that suddenly threatened is not OK. It’s not acceptable."
after two devastating floods in 2008 buried hundreds of baby plants — or huli — under tons of mud, only a handful of taro farmers remained in Makaweli Valley, said John A‘ana, who continues to grow taro on eight acres in the valley.
Other farmers gave up when no one in their families wanted to continue working the land, A‘ana said.
A‘ana and his cousin Rawlins Char started Makaweli Poi Mill with a $50,000 OHA loan after 1992’s Hurricane Iniki damaged or destroyed Kauai’s existing mills, then sold the mill to OHA’s Hi‘ipoi LLC in March 2008.
"OHA purchased the mill to preserve and promote Hawaiian culture and to create economic opportunities for native Hawaiians by encouraging taro farming and the production of poi," OHA said in a statement to the Star-Advertiser.
Hi‘ipoi is working with Ka Piko o Waimea with the intent of transferring the mill’s assets to the new nonprofit debt-free. But first, OHA said, Hi‘ipoi is asking Ka Piko o Waimea for a business plan. "We will work with them to refine the plan if needed. We are hopeful a plan will be in place by the end of June."
OHA’s nonprofit organization, Hi‘ilei Aloha, will help Ka Piko o Waimea identify sources of funding, write grants and manage grant-funded programs, OHA officials said.
But the mill’s success will rely on a fresh approach, the agency said. "We believe it will take new, innovative ideas to continue to sustain the mill, and many of those will come out of the innovation in the community. The community has already banded together and pledged to continue to support the mill."
Former OHA trustee Clarence Ku Ching, whose father, Clarence F. Ching, was born in Makaweli Valley and worked the land growing taro, rice and peanuts, said the poi mill suffered from low taro production and from the increased costs that came from running the mill out of OHA’s offices in Honolulu.
"Bookkeepers in Honolulu make more money than the farmers," Ching said. "Micromanagement from non-taro farmers from Honolulu, plus acts of God like floods, meant they (mill operations) have taken it on the chin. The present setup — putting it back into community control — sounds good to me. I’m amazed that so many people feel so good about keeping this thing alive. But it’ll take time."
A‘ana’s daughter, Janna, and his niece, Sarah A‘ana, have been elected to the nine-member board of directors that will oversee the mill.
"One good thing that came out (of OHA’s decision) is we have a lot of young people that have come forward," said John A‘ana, 56. "When they heard it was going to close, it struck a chord with a lot of these young guys that it’s important culturally. They really stepped up. They want to be part of the solution."
The primary ingredient in poi is taro, or kalo, as it’s known in Hawaiian.
"Taro is viewed as an older sibling of the Hawaiian people throughout the islands," said Dennis Chun, who teaches Hawaiian studies at Kauai Community College. "There’s that spiritual connection as well as a physical connection to taro. Taro made into poi is easier to digest and eat by both the old as well as the young. It feeds whole generations. It’s a healthy food."
On the Garden Isle, poi eaters are generally divided between poi produced by Makaweli Poi Mill and the Hanalei Poi Co., Chun said.
"A lot of people on the west side prefer Makaweli poi," Chun said. "A lot of people on the Hanalei side — or east side — prefer Hanalei poi. Hanalei poi has a little bit different process, and they like to keep it chilled so it stays sweeter longer, it doesn’t get sour for a longer time. Makaweli poi is like old style, throw ’em to the grinder, and it ferments and sours a little quicker, has a little more earthy taste."
Chun eats poi at least twice a week and selects Makaweli or Hanalei poi depending on what else is on the table.
"If I’m eating like fish, dry fish, especially, I like the sour poi more," Chun said. "If I’m eating fresh fish and poke, I like the sweeter kind."
Kaina Makua, a part-time taro farmer and full-time Hawaiian-language teacher at Kawaikini New Century Public Charter School, said a new generation of taro farmers can be developed in the next couple of years in Makaweli Valley.
Makua grew up working a taro patch in Kauai’s Hanapepe Valley and returned to Kauai three years ago after graduating with a master’s degree in education from the University of Hawaii at Manoa.
"The land I work on, our kupuna was working on 1,000-plus years ago," Makua said. "Not only is kalo a staple; it’s our connection to our ancestors, our kupuna. That makes it even more important for me to continue farming and feeding our people, to make us self-sustainable. Farming — it’s beyond a hobby. That’s an understatement. It’s life."
Makua brings his students out to his taro patch and enjoys watching them get their hands muddy while they connect to both the land and their ancestors.
"It’s hard work, but if I don’t do ’em, who’s going to do ’em? Nobody," Makua said. "I just hope we can work together, everybody, to get through this hard time to feed Waimea and feed everyone else."
Whatever the future holds for the Makaweli Poi Mill, Makua — at the age of 27 — vows to grow and produce taro in Makaweli Valley for the rest of his life.
"Pretty much until I die," he said.
