Bernard's On My Mind

Bernard's On My Mind

Dedicated to Bernard Punikai‘a

The sweltering heat mixed with sweat and grime and the ubiquitous garbage; the air thick with Harmattan dust, exhaust fumes from countless generators, and smoke-spewing, oil-burning non-emission controlled traffic, all lead me to seek solace in the ocean.  Luckily I've found a beach that I can go to at the end of every working day.  A place that soothes my body, recharges my spirits and sends my mind home to Hawaii for a few moments everyday.

My beach here is called Bernard's Beach and that name reminds me of my friend Bernard Punikai‘a.  A larger than life man who passed four years ago this month.  Bernard was my kumu and he taught me many things and the best lessons and the best times were spent at his beach front cottage in Kalaupapa.  There he would sing playing his autoharp and we would laugh and talk deep into the night while the heavy Moloka‘i north shore surf pounded and the many deer whistled softly in the brush near the house.

Yeah, Bernard is on my mind while swim the Atlantic off the coast of West Africa.

Like everything in Liberia, this beach has its complications.  The most straightforward way to get there is to go down this road and you'll come the ocean about a quarter mile away:

  Problem is there's usually a group of guys at the end of the road that tries to extort 'small-money' as an entrance fee.  The small money gets bigger if they think you can afford it.  I'm friendly with them and have gotten to know a few of them by name but in general I try to avoid them.  So instead I've found an alternative access point further down the road at this intersection:

The road leads to this little shantytown and the ocean beyond.

Its a little bit of a hike to Bernard's but its beautiful and interesting.

On my walk to Bernards I pass a fishing village.  Its actually more like the place where the fishermen beach their canoes and fix their nets and sell their fish to mongers.  Most of the fishermen themselves appear to live elsewhere.

Just past the fishermen is the swimming beach with a shore break that's fun and somewhat surfable.  When its bigger, the waves tend to come in as walls of water that just break as one big unit.  Beyond that the water gets deep quickly.  I'll swim out to passing fishing canoes sometimes to the great amusement of the fishermen who assure me there are no sharks or anything to worry about.
Occasionally though I have seen some of the BIGGEST man o wars I've ever seen.  I'm talking 10 inches or so across.  I've seen a few of those washed up on shore and I don't ever want to encounter one in the water.  Luckily they only come in when the wind blows heavy onto shore and that has been rare.

Beyond the beach is lagoon that stretches into a part of town called Congotown.  Congo was the name given to slaves that were freed from slaving ships intercepted by foreign powers after the international slave trade was made illegal. Many of those slaves from different parts of Africa were often dropped off in the fledgling country of Liberia and some were settled in this part of Monrovia.
Liberia was founded and settled by freed American slaves who were called 'Settlers' or Americo-Liberians.  Class distinctions were established between these Settlers and the Congos (who had never seen America) and the indigenous tribes, who of course initially possessed the place.

I attract a lot of attention as I am the only white guy on the beach and I swim, which very few people do here.   Often as I come out of the water people will come up to say something like, "I really enjoy watching you swim."  I've had young women flirt and tell me that they like me and 'want' me and young men ask to be my friend to teach them how to swim.  Thats the way people are here, friendly, engaging, provocative.

These guys were playing football, noticed my camera, stopped me and asked to have their pictures taken.

Walking back to where we parked the car, this is the view of Monrovia in the distance.

Sand patterns in the surf line along the beach

Back up towards the backside of that shantytown on the beach.  That is Moses Kollie my driver who likes to walk along the beach while I swim. 

Kids greet us as we walk back to the car while others do chores related to the pump

The drive home is never boring.  I noticed this today:

I say what?

No matter, I agree with the sentiment on this truck.  May God bless us all.

Back to my friend Bernard

This is the first Bernard's Beach I came to know in Kalaupapa:

And this is Bernard's yard with a tree under which I've shared fond experiences with friends.

The following is attached by permission.  Click on Bernard's name for a Star Bulletin article about him.  Aloha Bernard!

BERNARD PUNIKAI’A

Reflections by Wally Inglis

February 28, 2013

My friend Bernard died four years ago this week.  I still miss his smile and his feisty spirit.  He left us on Ash Wednesday.  A few friends gathered at his bedside atLeahi Hospital, in a ward the state had re-named “Hale Mohalu” – a designation Bernard would never accept.  My son Stephen was present, playing some of Bernard’s favorites on his guitar as the priest offered final prayers for a safe journey.  Yes, Bernard was more than a friend; he was also family, the honored godfather of our daughter Katherine.

It is impossible to capture the essence of the man in a phrase or in a list of his talents and accomplishments.  But I’ll try.  He was a leader, an activist, a politician. The public arena is where he earned his reputation, where he achieved near “rock star” status.  It seems as if everyone knew Bernard, even beyond our islands.  It is sad in a way that he was not fully acknowledged in the same way as other rock stars—for his music!  For it was as a musician and song writer that he most wanted to be remembered.  Steps are now being taken to rectify this oversight, starting with the recognition of three of his songs in a recent award-winning CD of Kalaupapa songs.

Bernard, the politician, ran unsuccessfully for both the State House and the Office of Hawaiian Affairs.  His more important political work, though, was behind the scenes as a life-long Democrat.  What an irony that he spent part of his pre-Kalaupapa childhood as a resident of Republican Street in Kalihi!  His best work was his passionate advocacy for issues of social justice, particularly those affecting Hansen’s Disease patients locally and globally.  In this area, you were either with him or against him, nowhere in between.  He was a man of strong likes and dislikes.  I consider myself fortunate to have survived a long friendship without ever incurring his wrath.

Life for Bernard, however, was more than the relentless pursuit of causes.  He knew how to have a good time.  He enjoyed entertaining at his Kalaupapa beach house, where his parties became legendary.  He loved to travel, both for pleasure and to carry his message to fellow leaders at international leprosy gatherings in Europe, Asia and South America.

 It has been both an honor and a burden for me to help sort out the great legacy of Bernard Punikai’a in the four years since his passing—and to share this legacy with others.   Fortunately, he has left, as part of this legacy, a host of friends committed to letting the world know that a wonderful man named Bernard once walked among us and refuses to let us forget him