About the Creator
Built with the Land
By Alan Pineda
Joeli Tawake, a 25-year-old student from Fiji studying Communications at BYU Hawaii, shared his unique perspective on architecture in Polynesia. Growing up surrounded by nature, Joeli explained how traditional buildings in his home country were never separate from the environment. They were part of it.
“You do not really think much about it when you are living in it every day,” he said. “But now that I have been away from home, I realize how special it is. The buildings feel like they breathe with the land.”
In Fiji and throughout Polynesia, Joeli said, buildings are often made from natural materials like wood,
bamboo, stone, and coconut leaves. These are not just for decoration. They serve a purpose. “They are built for the wind to pass through, for the heat to escape. It is not just style. It is survival, comfort, and respect for nature.”
Even modern buildings, according to Joeli, reflect that connection. “You will still see big open spaces, high roofs, and wide verandas. It is our way of keeping close to the outdoors. The ocean breeze, the birds, even the sound of the rain, they all find their way in.”
More than just structure, Polynesian architecture carries meaning. “There is this deep understanding that the land provides. So when we build, we do not try to take over the land. We build with it,” Joeli said. “That is something I think more places in the world could learn from.”
For Joeli, these buildings are more than homes or meeting places. They are reflections of culture, memory, and a way of life that honors the world around them. “Polynesia teaches you that nature is not something outside of us. It is part of who we are. And our buildings tell that story.”Built with the Land.
Climbing for Culture
By Alan Pineda
Kai Moloto, a young man from Samoa, grew up with a view most people never see, from the tops of coconut trees. For him, climbing was not just a chore. It was part of daily life, a connection to his culture, and a lesson in strength and trust.
“Some kids had playgrounds,” Kai said with a grin. “I had coconut trees.”
From a young age, Kai would follow his older cousins out into the grove. With bare feet gripping the bark and hands trained to hold tight, he learned to climb quickly and carefully. It was never about rushing. It was about focus and rhythm. He still remembers the feeling of wind brushing past his face and the ocean shining in the distance as he reached the top.
“It teaches you respect,” he said. “For nature, for your body, and for the traditions passed down to you.”
Gathering coconuts was often for the family’s meals, celebrations, or simply to help around the village. The practice connected him to his ancestors who lived off the land and used every part of the tree, from the fruit to the leaves and trunk. Now living away from Samoa, Kai still carries that sense of balance and purpose wherever he goes.
The Story in Every Step
By Alan Pineda
Leilani Kai, a 21-year-old student from Kahuku studying Hawaiian Studies at BYU Hawaii, grew up surrounded by the sound of drums, the rhythm of oli, and the graceful movements of Hula. For her, dancing Hula is more than a performance—it is a way of life.
“I started dancing when I was just five,” she said. “At first, I was just following the moves. But as I got older, I realized that every motion tells a story.”
Growing up on the North Shore, Leilani was part of a local halau, or Hula school, where she trained under a kumu hula who taught not just the movements, but the history, language, and values behind them. “Hula connects us to our ancestors. It is not just entertainment. It is our voice, our pride, and our way of remembering who we are.”
When asked how it feels to dance in front of an audience, Leilani smiled. “You are not just dancing. You are sharing something sacred. Sometimes I close my eyes and I can feel my tutu next to me. It is like she is dancing too.”
Even as modern influences shape Polynesian culture, Leilani believes Hula remains a strong thread that ties generations together. “It keeps us grounded. There is something really powerful about moving your body in a way your great-grandmother did.”
She also uses Hula to teach others about her culture. “People think Hula is just grass skirts and swaying hips. But when I explain the meaning behind each step, they are always surprised. There is so much depth to it.”
As she continues her studies, Leilani hopes to one day become a kumu hula herself. “I want to pass it on,” she said. “So that our stories never fade.”