MATSU KINA
published Oct 18, 2018

An Oral History


Matsu Kina


An eighty-two-year-old former sugar plantation worker recalls and reflects on his life in Okinawa, 1910s; immigration to Hawaii, Maui and Big Island plantation camps; and World War II.
Based on interviews by Michiko Kodama, ESOHP Researcher I Interviewer. Translated by Kiyoko Endo. Edited by Gary Tachiyama.


For New Year's, we just had special foods to celebrate. The good foods back then, compared to today, weren't as elaborate. But the women made all kinds of food, mainly with tofu, (bean curd) and pork, of course. All the Okinawans liked pork. For every three households, they killed one pig. Three or four households would share one pig.

We had other celebrations. When you had a baby, on the day that the baby was born, you go into town, where you bought a big wooden barrel of rakkyo (pickled scallions) and a five gallon tin of cooking oil, and one sack of panko (flour). During the six days after the birth, people used to gather after work at 3:30, and we would feast on the things that we had bought. We also bought three sets of hanafuda (playing cards), and people would play it here and there. On the sixth day there was a big celebration for the baby. A pig was a necessity at the celebration. But, since not everyone raised pigs, we would buy one from someone who raised many and then we would kill it. We also made various feast foods and had a big celebration.

We were all young in those days, in our 20s or 30s, so every year we had children. Since there were many of us, we had sometimes two or three babies in a month. The cost of living increased along with the celebrations, so we had a hard time. But because it was the custom at the time, whether you were rich or poor, you had to give those celebrations.

We had few big religious ceremonies because we had no Buddhist priest at Kukaisen. A priest came only for funerals. For each funeral, there were about three persons in charge. They took care of everything. In those days the dead were buried. But the ceremonies were Buddhist style, mostly in the Hongwanji style. Once in a while priests came for other ceremonies, but it was rare.

We didn't have bon (Lantern Festival) dances at first. We started a bon dance in our seinenkai later on. There was a coronation of the new emperor and that's how it started. For that celebration, we decided to put on some plays. Since so many of us wanted to be in the plays, we decided that all those 25 and younger should put on Naichi Japanese plays. The older ones should put on Okinawan plays. Our plays had a high reputation and were known throughout the Big Island. First we were scheduled to perform for two nights, but since so many people came to see us, we performed for two more nights. The seinenkai made money for its fund. After I moved to Kaumana, there were two more series of plays. One for the tenth anniversary of the seinenkai, and one on another occasion.

Farming and War in Kaumana

I left Kukaisen after about 10 years, then I went to Kaumana. I left because I wanted to make money as soon as possible, so I could go back to Okinawa. At Kukaisen I didn't make much money cutting cane. For eating I didn't have any trouble, but I couldn't save any money, so I went to Kau- mana thinking I could save more money there. There was an opportunity in Kaumana. There was a man named Nakagawa who had already started a chicken business, and I bought it to take over. I had two incubators, so I hatched a lot of eggs all the time; the eggs were warmed using kerosene. At that time I think I had 1,000 chickens if I include the small ones. The business was average sized or smaller. Other people had bigger businesses. But I failed in the chicken business because the chicken feed was expensive and the money I could get for the chickens was low. I didn't make money at all. I quit the business.

I also was in the vegetable business, growing mainly makina (Chinese cabbage). I also grew cabbage, cucumbers and things like that. I would go to the markets and I would make a contract with the markets. I would sell my vegetables at 2 cents a pound. My farm was about six acres and when I was doing well, I sold my vegetables at a good price. A big makina would weigh as much as five pounds. The vegetable business was like gambling. If you grew a lot, the price would come down, and if you grew just a little, the price would go up.

My wife's little sister and brother worked with us and at one time, they lived with us. In the beginning my father was also living and working with us. Later on he went back to Okinawa. I sent him. He simply wanted to go back. He was about sixty years old then. He had many children in Okinawa. I felt it was better for him to go back than to stay here in Hawaii. When the rains came I didn't make too much money on vegetables. So I stopped raising vegetables and instead I grew cane. You have a lot of free time, so you can raise pigs too. But I made the most money growing cane because the price was set.

While I was in Kaumana, there was a time of depression. I couldn't live on what I made, so I had to look for other jobs too. There was a government job available to help out the unemployed. They were building a street right in the back of us, and I went to apply for the job. I worked for them for several months. Then I didn't have to worry about eating because the monthly wage was good compared to the plantation. I think it was thirty seven and a half cents per hour, and over two dollars a day.

Because of World War II we had to leave Kaumana. The military took all the area around my land. They had an ammunition storage dump over there. They always had guards walking back and forth. That was a dangerous area, so we had to move back to Kukaisen. The government compensated me for that. I had no bad feelings towards the government when I was forced to leave. Since there was a war between the two countries, I felt that it couldn't be helped. No matter what you do, you can't change that kind of situation, no matter how hard you try.

Before I moved back to Kukaisen, there were several incidents which happened at Kaumana because of the war. When Bataan fell in the Philippines people came to warn us that the Filipinos were going to come and make trouble, so we should hide and take caution. We were scared and we gathered together in one place. I think the leader of the Filipinos came from Mountain View. We three families were hiding all in one place because we were scared. There was that kind of incident.

After the war started there were blackouts but no one came to check on us. But there was an incident which made me decide to move. There was an ammunition dump by us, and the guards were always walking back and forth on our street. Because of that, one night, our dog barked a lot. I wanted to stop him from barking, so I went out. It was dark and they saw me wearing a white yukata (a cotton robe-like garment). Five or six of them started shooting. They said, "There's a spy in your house, bring him out." My son said it must be my father that you saw, but they said no it was a spy. They said come out with your hands up, so I did. They really thought we were hiding a spy. After that I felt I couldn't live there much longer. It was too dangerous. Interesting things sure happened then.

Going back to Kukaisen after ten years at Kaumana wasn't much of a change for me. I had an uncle there and I used to go back and forth to Kukaisen almost every week anyway. I didn't really notice the differences. It was as if I had been still living with them at Kukaisen. There were few changes. While I was in Kaumana, they had started a Japanese-language school at Kukaisen. That was probably the only change. Otherwise there wasn't anything really different.

At Kukaisen, I worked kachi kane and ho hana. Later, I quit kachi kane and went into trial cane. When you do trial cane you check the seeds to see which ones are good. We looked into how much sugar a particular type of cane would produce. There was a boss there, and I would report the results. We got up around 4:30 in the morning and my wife did the cooking and I fed the pigs. I lit the gas lamp and cleaned the pens. By the time I got home, my wife had prepared breakfast, and then I went to work for the plantation. After I came home I tended my own cane and fed my pigs. I raised about 50 pigs and I had about 20 acres of cane field. The plantation sold the land that they couldn't cultivate to people who were interested in buying it. My land was near a river. That's the way we worked. Now when I recall those times, I see that we worked really hard. That's why I could do all those things and put two of my children through college.

The wage I received from the plantation was set. A dollar and twenty five cents a day. But it was raised gradually afterwards and although the profit from raising pigs and my own cane wasn't much, I made as much as I worked. It was better than nothing. I had children, and I needed money for their education. We couldn't spend frivolously.

Socially, there was nothing special to talk about since it was during the war. We gathered and played hanafuda. I didn't really like that game so I raised flowers and plants, anthuriums and things like that. Some people asked me why I raised flowers, because flowers were only for funerals, but I liked flowers. It was my hobby, orchids and other things. I like it to this day, so I still raise flowers.

And there were no sumo meets during the war. When a young person came from another place, we would see how strong he was by having him wrestle with another youngster, but that was about it. And there were no

Tenchosetsu celebrations. It was natural that we didn't have any of those, because back then we separated into kachi-gumi or make-gumi, groups which insisted that Japan was winning the war or losing it. There were some fights over who was winning the war, not many in Kukaisen, but many at Kaumana. If you said that Japan was losing, then people would harass you. I liked Japan, so I wanted her to win. If I had said that Japan would lose, then people would do nasty things to me. I wasn't in any organized kachi-gumi, but I felt the same way. There were no associations of kachi-gumi or makegumi in Kukaisen but I know that other camps had them.

I didn't send money to Okinawa anymore, but on some occasions after the war my brothers and sisters would write to me saying that they needed money. Then, I would send money. Also when there were people going to Okinawa I would ask them to take second-hand clothes with them. I also became involved in the Okinawa relief movement. In the beginning we gathered in Hilo. I was chosen to go as a representative from Kukaisen. We decided to gather old clothes and send them to Okinawa.

The Whole Camp Moves to Wainaku

In 1957 I moved from Kukaisen to Wainaku. The plantation made us move, because our place was far from things. Now I feel that it was good that we moved, because Kukaisen is in the mountains and the roads were always bad. Down here we have good roads. At one time, we thought that it was better in Kukaisen, but now it is different. This house that I'm living in is the same one that I was living in, in Kukaisen. It's not too different. We just moved it.

In Wainaku, there were only a few people at the camp. There were only 57 people or so who came to Wainaku. From Okinawa, I think there were six or seven households who moved from Kukaisen. So the Okinawan people mixed with the Japanese and Filipinos. I have never been looked down upon. Because of the place where I worked was mostly Okinawans, I didn't have any exposure to the Japanese. Since there weren't many Japanese they could not feel superior. I never really thought about it. There were many Filipinos. The Filipinos were mainly workmen. Young Japanese men didn't like the work in the mountains so they went to Honolulu. There were few nisei people working in the camp. Unless the Filipinos were brought in, the jobs wouldn't get done. That's how the Filipinos came here.

Anyway I worked trial cane . I was doing the same job as before. It was easy. I had two makule (old men) working for me. I did that until I retired in 1964. This house and the land belong to me. I bought it when I was working. I paid it off while I was still working. I had no debts when I retired. I was able to do this because I worked hard and partly because of the formation of the ILWU (International Longshoremen's and Warehousemen's Union). In the beginning the people working in the mountains couldn't join, but later we could, so I did. I felt the laborers needed the union. The laborers never had any rights. We had to do what the plantations wanted us to do. After the union came about, the laborers had rights. So the thing that the laborers needed most was the union. That's how I feel. There was no house that had a washing machine before. After the labor union, they raised our wages, so we became better off. We could buy washing machines, ice boxes, and cars. We could send our children to school. Without the union we could never have done anything like that.

But changes didn't come easily. We had to go on strike a few times, two ... no, three times. The first one was about 1946 and we had another one in two years. When the union wanted a raise the management said no, and so there was a strike. The last one (in 1958) was long. They wouldn't raise the wages. If you were a union member, you couldn't go to work. Finally, we went back to work. We had leaders and we had no choice but to obey the leader. We didn't have to worry about food because we had community cafeteria for kaukau (food) among the strikers. The ones with many children, however, had a hard time, but we didn't. We could keep our car.

When I look back I am happy that I was part of that labor organization. But I am also happy that I was part of all these social organizations. The seinenkai which made life easier in the plantations. The kenjinkai (prefecture club) whose main job was to have a welcoming gathering for YIPs from Okinawa. Sometimes the kenjinkai helped with funerals. We also had picnics. And lastly the Gushikawa Sonjinkai which was formed in 1938 and which still exists today. It was formed to promote mutual understanding and fellowship. Without it we wouldn't know who lives where, and so on. That's how it's been. We didn't function for a year or two during World War II, but after that we reopened. When it was formed it was really small, only two people were in it from Kukaisen and Kaumana. But the second time it opened, it included all the Gushikawa people on Hawaii. Today there are about 40 members, each person paying a fee. We have nisei (second generation Japanese-Americans), but very few sansei (third generation JapaneseAmericans). Now days, nisei take the leadership positions because there are only a few issei (immigrant) people left. I feel we need the sonjinkai because without the association, it's difficult to find out about Okinawa. I hope that the young people are active in such organizations. They wouldn't be able to learn what the homeland is like, if it wasn't for the organizations.

But I don't think the Hilo nisei and sansei are interested in kenjinkai because there is no need for it. In kenjinkai, there are older people and not too much is done. There is also Hui Okinawa, a big club for Okinawans, so there is no real need for kenjinkai today. If I was to be here for a long time, I might suggest dissolving the kenjinkai, but I'm not going to be here much longer, since I am moving to Honolulu.

Looking Backwards

I feel some of the Okinawans in Hilo have done well for themselves. There are three issei doctors, Uezu, Yamanuha and Matayoshi. Then there are the nisei. The one who did the best is Mayor Herbert Matayoshi, and there's Representative Yoshito Takamine, and Councilman Steve Yamashiro. Those are the politicians. There are also many businessmen. The one that was most successful was Food Fair's Mr. Kaneshiro. Also Mr. Kuwaye in the trucking business. Okinawans have been successful in business.

I'm glad that I came to Hawaii. The standard of living here is higher than in Japan. I was able to raise a family. I got married to my wife, Ushi, in 1923. We were destined to get married. My father arranged the marriage. Since he himself was leading a lonesome life, he found a wife for me. There was no marriage ceremony. At that time if two people agreed to get married , that was it. Friends gathered and celebrated and that was about it. That's how it was. Nothing much. My wife worked in the fields. After she had children, she took care of them. When she could, she would help because we raised our own cane. But, she had children year after year, so she couldn't help too much.

Compared to now, the living was very plain for the children. I felt sorry for them, because there were so many children who were malnourished. We had to take them to hospitals often. Since the foods were very plain and poor, the children would catch colds very easily. The situation was terrible. Each family was more or less like that. But we didn't take them to the plantation hospital. Everybody talked badly about the doctor there. We called him a "vet." Really he was a vet. No one went to see him. We went to see other doctors. First we went to Yamanuha, and then Uezu, and then to Matayoshi. We mostly went to Dr. Matayoshi.

As for the children's education, since I myself didn't have much education, I thought that they should be well-educated to become full-fledged persons. Four of them went to college. My second son was a real hardhead, and so didn't go farther than high school. My first son went to college on his own, but the other three I paid for. I told my sons, if you don't go to college, you can only become a farmer. If you have an education, you get paid more for what you do. If you have money you can spend it. An education you can't sell, and no one can buy it from you. Education is something to be treasured. I used to say that many times. I encouraged my sons to go as far as they could in their education.

I tried to send them to Japanese-language school too. My first and second sons went, but the war started so my third and fourth and fifth sons didn't go. We spoke Japanese at home, so they understood Japanese very well. But I didn't teach them Okinawan culture. Back then, I wasn't interested in things so I wasn't knowledgeable enough. And although I enjoy playing the shamisen I didn't teach them to play it because it's up to one's personal tastes. The way of thinking is different between the children and myself. You can't force them to play. If they liked to play, I would be grateful, but I wouldn't force it on them.

Since I am an old man now I don't have too many hopes for the future, but I hope my children live peacefully and happily. As far as my wife and I are concerned, we are over 80 and hope to enjoy each day of our lives.

Soon I will leave Wainaku to live in Honolulu. I have many relatives there and I go there two or three times a year, so even though it's a new place I know it pretty well. Since none of my children live here on Hawaii, we feel lonely. If we go there we wouldn't feel this way. We are looking forward to spending the rest of our lives there.


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