Prison in Paradise: Kalaupapa in Drawings
In November of 2018 I came to the Kalaupapa National Park as the first artist in residence. My work consisted of documenting the daily life of the former leprosy settlement using drawings.
This reportage is a snapshot of the community consisting of a few surviving patients, the staff of medical professionals hired by the State of Hawaii to administer medical care, and the work of the National Park staff and volunteers who conduct land management and preside over the cultural resources related to the history of the settlement.
Finding Kalaupapa
There was a time when being sent to Kalaupapa was equivalent to a death sentence. Forever associated with the historic legacy of medical segregation of people suffering from Hansen’s disease (leprosy) these days Kalaupapa settlement is an idyllic setting of just a few residents that remains very isolated due to its lack of access and its unique geography. My artist residency consisted of following the daily work of the National park workers and volunteers as they went about their tasks related to land management, preservation of the cultural and historic heritage related to the community of “patients”, and restoration of the native plants and animals in the landscape that has been subject to the loss of native species. Because of the small scale of the community and I got a front row seat to the life in the settlement.
My journey started with a three mile descent down the Pali trail, one of the two ways to access the peninsula. Cut off from the rest of the island of Molokai by the highest sea cliffs in the world Kalaupapa is accessible by foot, a mule or a small commuter plane that flies in from Kaunakakai once a day. There are signs at the head of the trail warning visitors of citation fines in the absence of a written permit to enter the park. You are likely to have the steep trail with 26 switchbacks and 1700 foot elevation drop all to yourself with the exception of running into the park’s ranger Lester de Los Reyes.
About a third way down to the settlement I was stopped by the ranger who sternly inquired if I had the permit to visit. His face relaxed into a smile once I told him why I was here. Similar to many park workers Lester wears several hats at once. In addition to being a park ranger he also does maintenance work, most importantly making sure the fire pump is in working order. In case of a disaster residents would have to rely on it, as there are no outside emergency vehicles that can reach the settlement. “But mostly, I get paid to hike this trail back and forth”–says Lester, a Molokai native.
Community of 8 residents and 8000 tombstones
Kalaupapa means “flat leaf” in Hawaiian. A small peninsula that looks more like a protruding tongue is surrounded by the highest sea cliffs in the world forming in the words of Robert Louis Stevenson “a prison fortified by nature.” First patients were brought to Kalawao, the part of the peninsula more exposed to the trade winds and other elements. They were left to care for themselves without any food or shelter. Many died within a few years. The fields of unmarked graves to the right of the original St. Philomena church contain thousands of unmarked graves. The grave that is well marked and frequently visited of the beloved Father Damien doesn’t contain his body, but only a relic consisting of his right hand.
A long stretch of tombstones, graves and markers surrounds the settlement on all sides. These graves is the most telling monument to the history of the settlement. In the Bible leprosy was a disease condemned as a punishment from God. Later it was widely feared and stigmatized perhaps due to the fact that when left untreated it wreaks havoc on peoples’ facial features, skin, vision, voice, and limbs. In reality only about 5% of the population is genetically susceptible to the disease. Hawaiian population was particularly vulnerable upon first contacts with the carriers coming from Asia, Europe and the mainland due to the lack of natural immunity. A lot of people who died here died because of the proper lack of medical attention and fear that surrounded the victims and from the secondary infections and illnesses that came as a result of harsh conditions, hunger, and absence of basic supplies.
Patients
Subjects to segregation and then social stigma the story of patients in Kalaupapa is full of tragedy and perseverance. A lot of the modern day patients were brought here as children by being separated from their parents. Other patients have had their children taken away shortly after birth. Yet, life in the settlement was not just that of misery and tragedy, there are many stories of humor, love, and resilience. When the segregation policies were lifted in the 70s some patients went on to receive higher education, other became artists, inventors, and entrepreneurs. Yet many chose to stay or return to the settlement as some prejudice toward the disease survives to this day.
These days the remaining patients live in simple wooden homes. All eight now stay overnight at the hospital run by the State of Hawaii where their health is closely monitored. In the com- munity so small every move and whisper is public knowledge. To get away from the settle- ment patients built their “getaway” cottages, even if that meant being just about a mile away from others. When they were still healthier they used those cottages for fishing. Supplies and Materials are really scarce and have to be delivered by a barge that makes a stop in Kalaupapa once a year, on what’s known as the yearly barge day. Thus everything is reused again and again, especially in construction.
One day wondering about the settlement I came across the Paschoal Hall, a large building painted minty green that is sitting vacant now but was once the hub of social activity in Ka- laupapa. I climbed upstairs to find a little dark room that smelled of old chemicals and mold. Among the piles of trash, old wires, and empty card-boxes and coated in a thick layer of rust and dust is still standing the old Simplex movie projector. Reels of old film are scattered on the surfaces as if abandoned in a hurry.
I looked out onto an empty theatre still filled with rows of seats far exceeding the current population in the settlement. I imagined the hall full of excited patients who would gather here for the settlement’s favorite activity on Fridays at seven. It has been decades since this theatre projected any movies. Now only the interpretive boards lining the walls of the hall give you an idea of its past glory, showing photos of patients posing with Hula dancers, performers, and celebrities who would come visit here once the strict separation rules were lifted in 1969. These days, as is the case with many buildings in Kalaupapa this once lively place is partially a museum and partially a storage facility, and only the dark moldy projec- tionist’s room where Uncle Boogie used to operate pulls back the veil of the past.
What’s Next for Kalaupapa?
If you visit Kalaupapa today you are likely to come on a regulated day time visit. Small groups of visitors are allowed on the peninsula always accompanied by a guide. Over the years creative modes were used to transport the visitors including pick up trucks, golf carts and mini- buses. This school bus graveyard with former Damien Tour buses in various states of decomposition and plants growing through the rusty metal bodies, still bearing the names of the schools they used to serve is a monument to one more chapter in Kalaupapa’s history. They belong to two of the patients, the husband and wife Gloria and Richard Marks. The couple started running Damien tours in 1966, and until a year ago it was the most successful patient run business on the peninsula. Richard not only served as the tour guide, but also had to do all of the repairs on them using whatever materials he could find– tree sap, chicken wire or bits of old slippers. Richard Marks’ contribution to the peninsula will be felt for generations as he was largely responsible for turning Kalaupapa into a National Park, and thus saving the natural beauty and history of the place from becoming another soulless Hawaiian golf resort.
This has always been a place of strict rules meant to keep the disease from spreading. Now the rules remain, but they are often dictated by the patients themselves. One such rule pre- vents anyone under 16 to visit the peninsula due to the patients’ desire to be protected from the emotional responses that children might be unable to control. Since no young people
are allowed in the settlement life here bears a certain melancholic tone of a community suspended in time, waiting for its last residents to pass. The places where one feels the sense of renewal is a small nursery where the park is trying to recreate rare plants that have been exterminated in the course of the island’s contact with non-native plants and animals and the restoration areas where the park’s staff has been successful in bringing back the rare and endangered species.