Folk Tales/Waipalo Forgets Himself

"Waipalo Forgets Himself" is a folk tale heard on Stephanie’s path in the game Secret Paths to the Sea. It is narrated by Allan Manalo. The story illustrates for Stephanie that if someone copies her, it doesn’t mean she can lose her core traits and what people like about her; being copied means that the copycat isn’t being true to themselves.

The story is set in Hawaii and uses Hawaiian words and locations. Upupā means "sandpiper" and i luna means "above." Poipu beach and Na Pali are found on the island of Kauai. 

The Story
Waipalo Forgets Himself

When the goddesses and gods still ruled Hawaii, Moli’i ruled the sands. When the old Upupā scuttled along Poipu beach, all the birds commented on Moli’i’s grace and agility. She never wanted for respect.

It came to pass that an ambitious, young ewa bird named Waipalo became jealous of Moli’i’s position. When the other birds talked of Moli’i’s skill and beauty, Waipalo could only look at his own lanky body and large wings with despair. Waipalo wanted what Moli’i had. So the young bird hatched a plan: watch, listen, imitate.

For three days and three nights, Waipalo hide behind a cluster of lava rocks and never turned from his task. On the morning of the fourth day, Waipalo was ready.

“Aloha, Waipalo,” said Moli’i graciously, “and how are things i luna in the sky?”

“I wouldn’t know,” said Waipalo, “for I’ve found it much nicer being here on the beach.”

Just then a large wave came tumbling over the sand. As it pulled back, Moli’i scurried on her long, thin legs to find the first catch of the day. As Moli’i sliced into the sand with her long, sharp beak, Waipalo dug into the beach with his. Another wave pounded the shore. Moli’i instantly scuttled in search of more food. Waipalo was right behind her, trying to run on his long, gangly legs.

Now the onlookers laughed openly. Waipalo grew angry.

“My young Waipalo,” said Moli’i with affection, “I am respected not because I am quick or agile or have a sharp beak. I am respected because I am what I am; nothing more, nothing less.” Then thinking carefully Moli’i said, “Why I couldn’t soar like you if I tried.”

“Soar for us! Soar for us, Waipalo!” the feathered chorus cried.

Seeing an opportunity to capture some attention, Waipalo puffed out his chest and spread out his wings and flapped… and flailed… and found he could no longer rise into the air. Waipalo had spent so much time imitating Moli’i, that he couldn’t even remember how to fly.

The bird chorus laughed and squawked until Waipalo was too tired to flap anymore. He stood there embarrassed, knee-deep in the soggy sand.

“My dear Waipalo,” said Moli’i, once the flapping had stopped. “It seems to me that you’ve simply forgotten yourself.”

For three days and three nights, the Mauka clouds rained and the trade winds blew. And still Waipalo stood on Poipu beach. It wasn’t until the fourth day that Waipalo began to remember. A warm draft ruffled his feathers and, without thinking, Waipalo began flapping. He flapped and he flapped, and soon the warm draft lifted his body high into the sky. Waipalo stretched and looped, he soared over Na Pali, he dove for fish, he hung in midair.

And from the beach below, Moli’i smiled to herself - for she had known all along that Waipalo could never be anything but the very unique bird he already was.