The Drum Maker
The drum maker sits along the road near the Wailua Falls.
He plays two different drums simultaneously creating the call to the hula,
the universal call to dance that beckons every rhythmic dancer.
I can never resist a sensual beat, and venture closer to listen.
The bronze man with the long dark hair tied back, describes how he carved each drum from a log. No two logs create the same sound. No two drums are alike. The drums are tapped along the sides with a stick, not beaten with the palm of the hand.
He creates flutes of different sizes, all carved from bamboo. The largest flute is the Hawaiian version of the conch shell horn. The smaller flutes are played by blowing air from one nostril instead of the mouth.
The drum maker explains the Hawaiian belief that air from the mouth is unclean because we often speak unkind words. Air from the nostril comes directly from the lungs and is considered pure enough to grace the flute. He inhales deeply, holds the flute to his face and exhales into the hole creating a beautiful sound.
He tells me that music making is sacred. I tell him I come from the special place of Monterey. Like every local I meet in Hawaii, he knows Monterey and he understands I come from a sacred place too. Those of us united with the land and sea and sky understand these special places.
The drum maker creates many different drums and flutes and makes music from all of them. He weaves and braids palm leaves into long ribbons and gives me one as a gift to take home to the mainland.
I carry the palm leaf braid carefully back to California, and add it to my totem.
The Drum Maker is an excerpt from Where the Red Tailed Hawk Flies: The Coconut Journal. Copyright © 2009 by Gabriella Graham/Red Tailed Hawk Publishing/All rights reserved. 10.03.09.
The drum maker sits along the road near the Wailua Falls.
He plays two different drums simultaneously creating the call to the hula,
the universal call to dance that beckons every rhythmic dancer.
I can never resist a sensual beat, and venture closer to listen.
The bronze man with the long dark hair tied back, describes how he carved each drum from a log. No two logs create the same sound. No two drums are alike. The drums are tapped along the sides with a stick, not beaten with the palm of the hand.
He creates flutes of different sizes, all carved from bamboo. The largest flute is the Hawaiian version of the conch shell horn. The smaller flutes are played by blowing air from one nostril instead of the mouth.
The drum maker explains the Hawaiian belief that air from the mouth is unclean because we often speak unkind words. Air from the nostril comes directly from the lungs and is considered pure enough to grace the flute. He inhales deeply, holds the flute to his face and exhales into the hole creating a beautiful sound.
He tells me that music making is sacred. I tell him I come from the special place of Monterey. Like every local I meet in Hawaii, he knows Monterey and he understands I come from a sacred place too. Those of us united with the land and sea and sky understand these special places.
The drum maker creates many different drums and flutes and makes music from all of them. He weaves and braids palm leaves into long ribbons and gives me one as a gift to take home to the mainland.
I carry the palm leaf braid carefully back to California, and add it to my totem.
The Drum Maker is an excerpt from Where the Red Tailed Hawk Flies: The Coconut Journal. Copyright © 2009 by Gabriella Graham/Red Tailed Hawk Publishing/All rights reserved. 10.03.09.
The author with a friend! Island of Kauai.