Work Text:
My grandmother told me that once there was a giant octopus named Nui Nui. Nui Nui was very clever and very strong. He travelled through the darkness under the waves, looking for treasures to steal. He stole bait from fishermen. He stole young girls from their beds. He stole precious treasure from kings. Anyone who had the misfortune to encounter Nui Nui found themselves poorer in the after.
When Nui Nui came to the island where Maui lived, the clever thief set his eyes on Maui’s fishhook. One day, while Maui was boasting of his exploits, Nui Nui snuck into Maui’s hut and took the fishhook. When Maui discovered his fishhook was gone, he was furious. He raced to the sea, took a canoe from his brothers, and paddled madly. When he was over Nui Nui’s reef, Maui dove into the waves. He swam down and down and down until he found Nui Nui, hiding in a cave, all eight of his tentacles wrapped around his prize.
Maui rushed towards Nui Nui and Nui Nui retreated in a burst of ink that blackened the sea. Maui was unable to see the octopus. Nui Nui gripped the fishhook in a tentacle and took a mighty swing. Nui Nui’s skin pulsed in waves of color when he struck the top of Maui’s head and Nui Nui cleaved him clean in half. Nui Nui flung the left half of Maui to the east and the right half of Maui to the west. Victorious, Nui Nui retreated to his cave and curled around his prize.
Story told by Mary Hale. Recorded August 27th, 1954
**
January 13, 1987
Dearest Maria,
I hope this letter finds you well. As I write, I wonder again why you choose to move so far away, where everything is so different. I received your Christmas letter. The picture on the front was so strange, I had to show it to Lina next door and she told Pablo, who told James, and soon half the block was in my home, marveling at small people, the clothing and the bent over trees. My little Maria must be a giant among such people. I cannot imagine how cold it must be. Please, dearest Maria, take care. I have heard that it is possible for people to freeze solid. I wish you would come home. I will cook you a nice dinner. I’ll cook you a feast.
I must tell you, dearest Maria, of the most extraordinary thing that has happened to me. I have been so lonely since you left, and one day, God heard my cries and He gave me the most extraordinary gift. I was walking along Dicot-cotan, remember like we used to? We’d watched the big waves smash against the shore when you were little, and I would not let you swim in them. I’d make you wait until we got to the other side, over to Debenenan, where the waves were smaller. Anyway, I was walking on Dicot-cotan, I walk so slowly now, and do you know what I saw? It was the most extraordinary thing. I was walking along the tide line, many feet from the waves. Suddenly, a wave all by itself travelled up the beech. It lifted up, towering over my head. I thought it was going to drench me, but it didn’t. It dropped a child at my feet. And then the wave was gone and the ocean was back to normal.
What was I to do? I looked at the child shivering at my feet. What was I to do? I took off my sweater and draped it over his shoulders. I saw what an odd, misshapen thing he was. One side, his left side, was massive and muscular, almost the size of a full-grown man. The other side was small, with limbs that were short, like a baby’s, but just skin and bones. The skin on his left side was dark and tanned, but also blotchy with ink of old tattoos, where the skin on the other side was soft and pale. Even his hair was split down the middle. On the left side, his hair was curly and long. On the right side, there were just wisps.
The boy spoke, but only gibberish game out. I did not understand any of his words. What was I to do? Clearly the ocean had given him to me. So I brought him home. I call him Akoo, because in his sleep, he calls out that word, though I do not know what it means.
And so, my dearest Maria, I wanted to let you know that you have a strange new brother. I hope, someday, you come home so you can meet him. I wish you the best, dearest Maria
Love, your Lola.
**
Case number: #18463
Date: October 14, 1991
Reporting officer: Estan Fernando
Incident: Security at Faro Los Morrillos reported a disturbance. Akau Mokupuni, a boy of about 8, was taken to Family Services.
Details of the incident: At 5:54 PM, a call was received complaining about a trespasser at Faro Los Morrillos. Officers Fernando and Raynez responded. The officers were met by Manuel Sainz, 68, the park ranger, who reported that a boy was standing by the cliff, shouting incoherently at the sea. Mr. Sainz had approached the boy and asked him to leave but the boy had charged him with a stick. Mr. Sainz had retreated back to the lighthouse to call for assistance.
Officers Fernando and Raynez found the boy sitting with his feet over the edge of the cliff. The boy was dressed in rags and very dirty. Upon closer inspection, the boy appeared to be mal-formed with his right side being of normal proportions and his left side being too small. Officer Fernando asked him where his parents were. The boy said that his parents were dead. Officer Reynez asked him what he was doing here. He said he was looking for “his left side”. Officer Reynez asked him what that meant and the boy was unresponsive. Officer Fernando asked him when he had last seen this “left side” and the boy said he did not remember. Officer Reynez asked the boy his name and he identified himself as Akau Mokopuni. Mr. Mokopuni did not know his age and when asked where he lived he indicated he lived on the street.
Actions taken: Officers Fernando and Reynez took Akau Mokopuni to Family Services.
**
The Isabella Inquirer
June, 23, 1992
Palanan Youth Sipa Team Wins Isabella Tournament
[Picture showing a half a dozen boys, lined up in two rows, dressed in matching shirts, wearing a medals.]
In a startling upset, the Palanan entry to the annual Isabella Sipa tournament was won by the entry from Culsai Elementary School in Palanan, overturning a five-year championship team from Roxas East.
Culsai, which is usually eliminated early, defied expectations and won their regus steadily throughout the morning play. They faced Roxas East in the finals, both teams undefeated. Culsai’s play was led by their feeder, Hema Mokopuni Ocampo. Ocampo demonstrated astounding agility and he effectively blocked nearly every shot that striker Ronsited Isorena of Roxas East placed over the net. Ocampo made the cryptic comment about Culsai striker Rheyjey Ecoste, “He’s not my right side, but he’s got a wicked horseback.”
When asked how he got the kids to play so well, Coach Arnel Orouste shrugged and said, “I just let them play. They do the rest.”
**
Date: October 15, 1993
Annual review Akau Mokopuni.
Prepared by Camila Mendoza, LCSW
Placement: Akau Mokopuni, age unknown presents at about 10 years old, lives in the Pole Ojea Home for Boys. He was placed at POHB 13 months ago after his third foster placement failed. After an initial adjustment period, Akau has settled into the structure of POHB. POHB director Jose Ayala reports that Akau follows the house rules and participates in POHB activities appropriately.
Akau continues to have unusual outbursts and periods of disorientation. Director Ayala reports that there have been instances in the evening when Akau has been worried about being late for school, or in the morning when he has complained that it was too late for him to do his homework and he needs to go to bed. Director Ayala reports that in the middle of one night, Akau woke up screaming that his arm was broken.
The frequency of these events seem to be declining. Director Ayala reports that when Akau arrived at POHB, they were occurring multiple times a day. Director Ayala believes that the regular routines of POBH have contributed to their decline and while these outbursts still occur, are they are happening only a few times a week.
Another possible contributing factor to Akau’s improvement has been his growing interest in music. Over the last year, Akau has taught himself how to play the piano that is in the common roomof PBOH. Each day he spends hours at the piano. He progressed rapidly through the basics and he is now creating his own songs.
Education: Akau Mokopuni attends Escuela Corzon, where he is in the third grade. His teachers report tremendous progress during the last year, but he is still behind grade level in both reading and mathematics.
There was one notable disciplinary incident in the last year. At the end of second grade, Akau was on a class field trip to the Cabo Rojo Aquarium. He got separated from his group. Security found him trying to get into a tank that contained several octopuses. When he was removed, he started shouting gibberish and he had to be physically restrained.
Plan for the next year: Akau will stay at POHB and continue to attend Escuela Corzon. Director Ayala is searching for a scholarship so Akau can have formal music lessons.
**
Islands
By Hema Ocampo
Maui was a Maori demigod. His people lived on an island. The island was very crowded. Everywhere there were people. There was nowhere to grow taro. The people were unhappy. Maui took his fishhook and paddled out to the sea. Maui tied a rope to his fishhook. Maui threw the hook into the sea. The hook sunk into the mud. Maui pulled on the rope really hard. The ground came up and Maui pulled it into a mountain. The people were happy to have more places to live.
That is a story about islands. Real islands are made by volcanoes. Volcanoes erupt magma. Magma piles up making islands. Old volcanoes stop erupting and get covered in forests. Wind and rain break off pieces of the island. That is called erosion. After a long time, islands get smaller. Coral reefs grow in the shallow spots around island. The island gets smaller. The island sinks into the sea. It is called an atoll when the island is gone and there is just a coral reef.
**
Islands
By Akau Mokopuni
You said I was supposed to talk about science. You said I was supposed to talk about stories. But stories are important. The story of islands is about Maui. Maui had a giant hook. Maui threw his hook into the sea. The hook sunk into the mud. Maui pulled on the rope on the fishhook really hard. The ground came up. Maui pulled it into an island.
That is a story about islands. Real islands are made by volcanoes. Volcanoes erupt magma. Magma piles up making islands. Old volcanoes stop erupting and get covered in forests. Wind and rain break off pieces of the island. That is called erosion. After a long time, islands get smaller. Coral reefs grow in the shallow spots around island. The island gets smaller. The island sinks into the sea. It is called an atoll when the island is gone and there is just a coral reef.
That is the science. Maui is better. Imagine standing on a boat. Imagine pulling on a rope. Imagine making an island. That is much better than lava.
**
January 14, 1995
Dearest Maria,
I write you today on the ninth anniversary of the day when little Hema came into my life. He is not so little anymore. I know I am shorter than I once was, but he towers over me. He is so handsome. All of the girls in the village giggle and hide their faces as he walks by.
It is hard to remember what an odd, scrawny thing he was when the Ocean deposited him at my feet. He is still a scrawny teenaged boy, but he has evened out. You can hardly tell that the entire right side of his body was ever any different than the left. And what was it we called him? Akoo, I think. Before he learned to speak, he used to cry out that sound.
Now, it is hard to imagine. He plays sipa with a ferocity that amazes everyone who watches him. I sit on the sidelines, biting my nails with fear every time he tosses himself into the air into a fearless flip, worried that he will break more than an arm. Their team did not win this year, but that’s because there was no striker or tekong who could keep up with him. However, he hates going to the tournament. It is inland, on the other side of the mountains. When at home, he spends hours by the sea, just sitting, watching the waves.
Maria, I am writing to you to ask a question. This idea may be crazy, but I thought I would ask. Hema asked me the other day, if you lived near the sea. I showed him New York City on a map. He stared at it for a while and then he asked me if he could go to school in the United States, in New York. You could say he is your nephew? I think it is crazy to go to a place so cold that water freezes, but you seem to be happy there and I am getting too old to keep up with him. There is nothing for him here.
Love, Lola
**
MV Morning Star
May 29, 1997
God, I love the Sargasso Sea. This is our third day out of port and our third gorgeous day. Sunny, calm. I’m on 8-12’s this trip, which is the best watch.
Alas, the weather won’t last. San Juan to Southampton. Southhampton to New York. New York to Miami. Miami back to San Juan. Half this month is going to be in the North Atlantic.
Here’s the different thing. We have a stowaway! I was in the galley, rummaging around for a snack after my night watch, and I caught the little rat helping himself to a slice of Cookie’s shepherd pie. The kid didn’t look starved and scruffy, like the street kids usually do, so maybe he’s coming from somewhat better.
The kid speaks Spanish and a little English, which I guess makes sense since we picked him up in San Juan. Says his name is Akoo. I asked him what sort of name that was and he shrugged. Said it meant “right”. Seems like a weird name to me. When I asked him why he left San Juan, he said he was trying to get to New York to meet someone. I laughed at him and asked if he was going to meet “left” and he looked at me strangely and said yes. Not quite sure what to make of that.
May 30th
Close call today. Captain Russell runs a tight ship. If he finds out about the kid, he’d lock him up in some storeroom until we got to Southhampton, and then have the coppers meet us at the dock. Probably would have me hauled off with the kids, for harboring a stowaway. The kid seems nice enough. Its not like he is going to stab us in our sleep, plus for all that he is a teenaged boy, he is pretty small so he doesn’t eat that much.
Anyway, after noon watch, I went back to my bunk. I was going to get my book and head up on deck to read in the sun. Akoo was waiting for me. Apparently, whatever hole he had been sleeping in, the bosun decided it was time to clean. He barely snuck out.
We make port tomorrow. I am going to let him hide in my bunk for now.
May 31
We hit port today. England is so predictable. As soon as we hit their territorial waters, it started raining.
An hour after we tied in, when Cap was inspecting the cranes before we began unload, I helped the kid sneak off. Gave him all the pounds sterling I had, which wasn’t much. I hope he finds his “left”.
What a weird one.
**
Cardstock. Two pieces.
It says –
Asiana Airlines flight OZ708
Passenger: Hema Mokopuni Ocampo
Departure 08/21/1997 02:00 from CRK Luzon Clark International
Arrive 08/21/1997 06:50 ICN Seoul Incheon International
Seat A22
It says –
Asiana Airlines flight OZ222
Passenger: Hema Mokopuni Ocampo
Departure 08/21/1997 10:30 ICN Seoul Incheon International
Arrive 08/22/1997 11:40 JFK International
Seat F27
**
Evening Standard
November 19, 1999
Seeing is Believing?
By Albert Rottingham
Dr. Farnham Lester, a psychologist at Moorsfield Eye Hospital, recently published a book titled Sight: When what we see is not what others see in which he profiles a series of patients that he has worked with who have struggled with hallucinations.
In this book, Dr. Lester tells the stories of Sharon, a 56 year old patient who had a stroke in her visual cortex and Mike, an army sergeant who had fallen from a helicopter in a training mission. However, the most curious story is of A, a Spanish-speaking teenaged street kid.
Unlike the other people in the book, A has no other contributing factors to his hallucinations. He has no history of injury. He does not have a brain cancer. He has no other symptoms that would be associated with mental illnesses such as schizophrenia. He simply sees things that are not there. And he feels touches when there is nothing touching him and he tastes food he hasn’t eaten.
A first came under Dr. Lester’s care when he was taken into custody by the police for disorderly conduct. Over the next year, A reported having a series of hallucinations. He described a blocky, multi-story building. A middle-aged woman. A street café with a taxistand in front of it. The taste of pizza. Dr. Lester tried traditional therapies on A and found that none of them worked. The anti-psychotics had no effect, nor, it seemed were they needed. A was not violent. He was a quiet boy who could spend hours lost in the keys of a piano, singing to himself in rapid-fire lyrics. A sang in several languages: English, Spanish, and sometimes in another language that Dr. Lester could not identify nor could A say where he learned it. His tenor voice was pleasant and members of the ward where A lived often gathered to listen to him sing.
Dr. Lester decided to take a different approach with A. He sent A to yoga classes, to meditation, to acupuncture. A suggested sport and he got permission to join a local football club. After several months, A was able to control the hallucinations.
In the months since his release, A has passed O-levels and begun to pursue a professional music career. He sang backup vocals for Pulp on their upcoming album. He is also an enthusiastic right winger on a local football club.
Dr. Lester has become a vocal advocate for such alternative treatments and he has begun to apply it more broadly. He reports he already sees promising results, even in patients with more traditional diagnoses.
**
Village Voice - May 3, 2000
Talk of the Town section
The Laguardia High School production of Pippin opened this last weekend. Featuring junior Jordan Ocampo in the titular role. The high schooler delivers a surprising performance that rivals other recent off-broadway attempts. Les Miserables, watch out. In a few years, Jordan will be belting out “Bring him home” in the Imperial!
**
A transcript from “Let’s talk about music”, a show on WLPA student radio, 88.1 FM
October 23, 2001
Eric: Welcome back to “Let’s talk about music”. Today I will be interviewing senior Jordan Ocampo. As you all know, last spring Jordan starred in our performance of Pippin. Tell me Jordan, what was it like, taking the leading role?
Jordan: Thank you for having me, Eric. It was just such a privilege to get the lead role for Pippin. I just got lucky, I guess, that I got cast. There are so many other good tenors.
Eric: I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone with a falsetto like you.
Jordan: [laughs nervously] Thank you. I think it’s lots of fun, but it drives Mr. Alpert, my voice teacher, nuts. He keeps telling me I will ruin my voice.
Eric: You don’t want that.
Jordan: No.
Eric: So, any thoughts on this year’s productions?
Jordan: I am just glad for things to be getting back to normal, like everyone. The last month has been awful. I am going to audition. We’ll see what happens next. It is so amazing, being with all of the people around here. It is so different than where I grew up.
Eric: That’s right. You are from Indonesia?
Jordan: The Phillipines. I grew up in Pallanan with my grandmother, but my aunt who lives here, adopted me four years ago.
Eric: What was it like there? Did you do plays when you were a kid, too?
Jordan: [laughs] Hardly! I played sipa.
Eric: What’s that?
Jordan: It’s a game, sort of like a cross between volleyball and soccer. You send the ball over a net, like in volleyball, but you can’t use your hands, like in soccer.
Eric: That sounds insane!
Jordan: It’s pretty wild.
Eric: So, you are on the show today to review a band. Tell me about the band you have chosen to review.
Jordan: Last year, a friend of mine, Alice, she’s also junior in the drama department, she gave me a mix tape of British bands she liked. There were some usual staples, some Madchester, some Britpop. The very last song on side A, though, was something entirely new. It was from a group called the Magic Fishhook that was like nothing else on the list.
Eric: Is there a story behind that name?
Jordan: I have not been able to find out. So far as I know, they haven’t released anything but a handful of songs they have up on a very sketchy website. Can I play you a clip?
Eric: Please do. Let’s hear it.
[The song starts with a solo voice, half talking, half singing. The voice is raspy and wavers on the held notes. A drum and electric guitar comes in after a few seconds. The story tells the story of a someone preparing for battle, putting on a powerful face in the face of scary things.]
Jordan: Aren’t the drums awesome? Sort of tribal.
Eric: [laughs] If you say so, man. I mean, the beat is pretty good, and I like the growl but I am having a hard time getting into it more than that. The frosh sing better than that.
Jordan: He’s just untrained.
Eric: If you say so.
Jordan: Just listen some more. It grows on you.
Eric: So do zits. I am not sure I want it to. Okay, fine. Play me another one.
Jordan: I’ll pick a good one this time. One you are sure to like. This is called “More”.
Eric: Let’s hear it.
[The music starts with the piano tearing through a scale before it settles into a beat that is echoed in the drums. The lead singer holds the the notes this time, singing about how everyone expects more of them.]
Eric: I guess that one is a bit catchy.
Jordan: This is just such the feeling I have these days. That there is always more wanted of me.
Eric: That does seem to be true for all of us, especially at this school.
Jordan: But what really gets me about this band, and this has never happened to me before, is that these songs, they get to me. Like when I am playing them, it feels like I am singing them. Or sometimes, when I am completely absorbed in what I am doing, I hear the lead singer singing with me. Has that ever happened to you?
Eric: [laughs] I’m a tech major.
Jordan: Fine, but do you know what I mean?
Eric: I have no idea what you mean.
Jordan: That’s too bad. It is pretty cool.
Eric: I can’t imagine that singer pulling off Pippen.
Jordan: Not the main melody line, no. But backing.
Eric: [pause] Well, thank you Jordan. We are about out of time. Wishing you the best on your upcoming auditions.
Jordan: Thank you, Eric.
Eric: And that was Jordan Ocampo, this week’s guest on “Let’s talk about music”. Tune back next week when we will be talking to Anthony Li, principal Cello player in the honors string ensemble.
**
July 3, 2002
Dearest Lola,
I am writing to you from Heathrow, the airport in London! Hema’s senior play won a contest and they were invited to perform in London at an international theater festival! There are high schools presenting musicals all over the world. England and the US, of course, but also Australia, New Zealand, Canada and Ireland. It was quite amazing. Hema’s play got silver medal for the ensemble, but he got a gold medal for his song. I am so proud of him! These kids are so talented.
I want to tell you about something truly amazing that happened. You know how Jordan (he likes Jordan better, for some reason, instead of Hema) is sometimes a bit odd, a bit distant? Like he is listening to something that isn’t there? I always figured that was just the artist in him and he was composing a song or something.
Well, last night was the last night in London and they let the kids have a little unstructured time. There was this band that he has been obsessed about over the last year called the “Fishhooks”. He has made me listen to every one of their songs, over and over. Seriously, Lola, be glad that you missed raising this teenager. He heard they might be playing at a seedy little club that was about a mile from the street they were supposed to be on. I figured, what was the harm? So I took him.
The club was awful. Poorly lit. Smokey. My shoes stuck to the floor. I tried to get him to leave but he pulled be toward the front of the crowd. Up on stage were three guys in the rattiest clothes I have ever seen. There was a singer on the keys, a drummer and a guy a guitar. Jordan stared directly at the singer, and then he said something that I couldn’t make out. When I asked him what he said he said, “That’s him. Akau. That’s my right side.”
The guy on stage looked back at him, and I swear, Lola, on all that is holy. I have never felt anything like it. All of the hairs on my arms stood on end with the power that passed between them. Before I knew it, the guy on stage jumped down, and Jordan ran forward and the two of them were embracing as brothers.
After that, our Jordan joined the band up on stage. It was as if he knew the entire set but I have no idea how he could have. He has made me listen to all of songs the Fishhooks play and in the concert, they were playing none of the songs I knew. He and the other guy stood side-by-side trading off the lyrics sometimes. Other times, Jordan sang a high counterpoint to the other guy’s melody line. Lola, it was unbelievable.
After the show, they sat and talked. Here’s the crazy part. The lead singer of the Fishhooks is an 18 year old kid who spoke English with a Spanish accent and Spanish with an accent that, I swear, sounded like the Hales, that family from Tahiti that lived down the street when I was growing up. The two of them spent two hours finishing each other’s sentences and half asking questions, but never finishing the question because the other would answer.
By the time I dragged Jordan back to the hotel, the sun was coming up. Now, it is two hours later and we are sitting in Heathrow. He is fast asleep, but before he left last night, he was already making plans with Manny to get together again.
How is that for strange, Lola?
I am going to mail this, so you can get the Heathrow postmark. Thinking of you, Lola. I wish you could have been here to see this.
Maria
**
I realized that I did not tell you the rest of the story of Nui Nui and Maui yesterday. After Nui Nui sliced Maui in half, Nui Nui retreated into the monster realm. He told anyone who would listen how he, Nui Nui had defeated the great Maui. Everyone soon tired of his bragging, and Nui Nui was cast into the dark ocean. He wandered but never again did he find a prize so grand to steal. It is said he is still out there, alone and bitter, but I think he has faded into the darkness.
The Gods asked the ocean to carry the two sides of their favorite son to safety. Two halves of a whole thing, they grew up, living separate lives but always connected. My grandmother told me that one day, the two parts of Maui would be united again. As the sea rose and when the king tides washed over Tuvalu and Tegua and Kiribati, Maui would return with his fishhook, to again pull the islands from the sea.
Story told by Mary Hale. Recorded August 28th, 1954