Fino’ Puti’on- A Collection of Starry Chats
Unai Fu‘a
In the beginning, there were oceans. Puntan and his sister Fu'una opened their eyes from the dreaming and the creations began. Fu'una was chosen to carry the dream and instructions. At her brother’s death, Fu'una’s mourning overflowed the seas. With her hands, she formed a new world from Puntan’s body. From the body came the sun, moon, rainbows, and islands. Fu’una looked upon the new world and deemed it incomplete and so she gave of herself and a new dream was birthed and completed. From Fu'una we came - a new world breathing.
Tumaiguini 2022
On the eve of the Lunar New Year, I felt a strong calling down to Fu‘a Bay. I try to visit every year around the Lunar New Year, but this year felt especially important. While there, I reflected on a memory of bringing my youngest sister and her friends to the bay on a rainy summer afternoon. Their laughter filled the entire bay. From the moment they opened the doors to the car till they returned home, pure glee filled the air around them. Although it was rainy, we were blessed by our ancestors for the entirety of our time there. I’ve always been taught to go through the jungle quietly and respectfully, and I truly believe in the safety of those instructions. I told my friend the story of our visit and how I was scared to go through the jungle with such a loud group, and he replied with a sentiment that has never left me; he said that it seemed natural. That Lasso Fu‘a was a natural place for women to feel happy. I’ve found this observation to be true with all the groups of women I’ve visited Fu‘a Bay with over the years. Observing 2022 so far I feel a strong intuition that we will need some of Fu‘a’s special energies to carry with us. I believe that we will experience some remarkable moments while wearing this collection. I can’t wait to hear all the stories that will come. - Lia 
A love letter for your nåna
I am writing from the sunny town of Ōhope. Fun fact, Ōhope claimed the title of New Zealand’s best beach earlier this year. Yesterday my partner and I spent the day gallivanting around the Bay of Plenty, double-checking that we had gifts for everyone joining us during these next couple of weeks. Late in the afternoon we realized it was Te Maruaroa o te Raumati, the summer solstice for Aotearoa and the greater Southern Hemisphere. We took the opportunity to appreciate all the good things we experienced together during this year and jumped into the ocean. Another fun fact, yesterday was my first time submerging myself in New Zealand’s ocean. I prefer the lukewarm, bath-like waters of the Mariana Islands. Every other beach (including those that I frequented living in Hawaiʻi) takes way too much coaxing to get me past knee deep. The “refreshing” swim reminded me to relax, take a beat, and use seasonal reminders to account for the important parts of our lives.
Gratitude during the holidays often gets wrapped up with a bow. While gift giving is a skill and a love language for some, I often find Christmas presents obligatory and an unnecessary debt that many cannot afford (nor should we want to keep up with capitalistic pressures). To remedy this, my grandma and mom always ask for “love letters” from the family on holidays. This year my family is putting together a book of love letters for my grandma to enjoy while she lounges at the house before getting all dolled up for her date nights with her boyfriend. I know, she is a dudus queen if you couldn’t tell from the pictures above. This is all to say, thoughtful gifts are the best gifts. Show appreciation for the people in your life through love letters, too long of embraces, big Chamoru sniff kisses, cha cha-ing with your faves, coffee date at the beach, or squeezing a hand tight while saying, “hu guaiya hao.”
For inspiration, I’m sharing my love letter to my grandma, Mama Lou (Guadalupe Garrido Blas Lujan). Lia and I draw on our grandmother’s style, dudus ways, and tenacity for a good time. We strive, but we’ve got some serious bedazzled zori to fill. Let the women in your life know what they mean to you on the daily. Make it a little extra special during the holidays. They deserve all the accolades. These nanas need that extra feel good feeling and laugh as they get the fiesta dance floor started.
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Håfa adai si Mama Lou,
Håfa tatamanu hao, babydao? I know you have lots of love letters (and texts) from me already, but how fitting is another message considering our physical distance? It is like we are lovers in a long distance relationship. How romantic is that?
I know you have places to go and your boyfriend to see, so I am going to make this written expression of guinaiya-ku para hågu ngisot yan mames. At the end of November, I presented on a history conference panel called, “Grandmothers in the Archives.” My colleagues and I have different research expertise and life stories connecting us to many different islands in the Pacific. The thing we all have in common is how our nånas have a profound influence not only on our academic interests but also in the ways that we carry ourselves in all of the spaces of our lives. We have deep love for our mothers, but there is something invaluable about the ways grandmothers connect us to deeper parts of ourselves, wider family networks, and islands. I know how lucky I am to have been raised by you and my mom. I am often told by Chamorus and other Pacific Islanders that they can tell my grandmother helped take care me sa’ “påtgon biha.” I guess that old child aura comes from knowing how to make others feel comfortable in my spaces. Better bring out snacks and drinks without asking. Making sure to be generous with my time, money, and resources without expecting repayment or something in return. Give freely or don’t give at all. Plus generosity is cyclical; it always comes back around (sa’ inafa’maolek). Finally it is about making things happen for you and those around you. Be a mover and shaker, or get out of the way, baby.
Mahålang yu’ nu hågu si Mama Lou. My guinaiya for all that you do and have done for me is endless, bulalala. I cannot wait to bring this long distance relationship to an end, and åtilek i dågan-mu in person. Most importantly, don’t forget to make good friends, family first, and don’t do drugs (or have the sex). Biba ha’ånen krismasi yan magof nochebuena!
I Kirida-Mu,
Jesi
31 Days of Waikato River Strolls
Chamorus are ocean people. Even though I live away from the Mariana Islands, I continue to feel this genealogical tie to and wholeness from the tåsi. The ocean has always been a constant in my life, until very recently. My work in Pacific and Indigenous Studies led me to Aotearoa (New Zealand) where this large island nation (comprised of two islands) is profoundly shaped by the ocean and countless waterways. The region I currently reside in is named after the Te Awa O Waikato (Waikato River), which is Aotearoa’s longest såddok. I consider myself a woman of the tåsi, however local Māori iwi (e.g. Ngāti Maniapoto, Ngāti Wairere, Ngāti Raukawa, and Ngāti Hauā) are river people. Like the ocean, this såddok is considered a generous ancestor and treasure that is a bountiful source of food, spiritual fulfillment, conduit of connection for trade, and more.
While much of the world struggled with COVID-19, Aotearoa spent nearly a year and a half of semi-normal living. This changed in October 2021 when the Auckland and Waikato regions went into lockdown due to a community case of the COVID-19 Delta variant. I used this time as an opportunity to deepen my relationship with my neighboring såddok. What if I made more of a concerted effort to be a river person? What would happen if I spent the entirety of October, come rain or shine, walking the river for a hour everyday? How can the Waikato be a conduit of connection to my family and friends far beyond these shores during a pandemic and international border restrictions that feels never ending?
I could write an exhaustive list about what I learned during my daily strolls next to Te Awa O Waikato, but we don’t have time for that. There are oceans to swim in and rivers to walk. Here are 10 lessons the Waikato River taught me on my month long challenge:
Change is constant and beautiful. The gallery of photos above are 11 of the 31 pictures I took of the river every day of October. The images are one way of cataloging the many faces of the Waikato. Every sunset, current, mist, and reflection offered a new glimpse into the river’s personalities, especially during this spring season.
There are endless shades of greens and blues. You have to get outside to notice them.
Tūī love to sing around my neighborhood’s portion of the Waikato. I never realized how loud their wings were until I stood under a kōwhai tree and watched a few tūī fly from branch to branch. You can get a glimpse of their song from one of my walks in the video below.
Folks in Kirikiriroa love nothing more than a social distanced picnic along side the river.
It’s so easy to take for granted the Waikato when your daily routine often requires driving over it via one of the many bridges in our area.
The many parks alongside the river commemorate colonial histories of conquest and war. They actively erase the Indigenous stories of Kirikiriroa. More on that problematic narrative to come in a future blog post because oh boy is it persistent in this city.
The river never smelled bad. I could smell the rain and crisp air through my mask. I could also catch the scent of a purple-ish flower that smells like Pineapple Lumps. Look up Pineapples Lumps to get a sense of one of New Zealand’s beloved candies.
My hour long walks offered the best time to catch up on the phone with my sister, best friends, cousins, and mom. The crazy stories, dramatic tales, and funny chats were balanced out with a quick glance over at the river. It’s called having perspective folks.
The Waikato is photogenic from all viewpoints. She has no bad angles as proven from the gallery of photos above. Also trees do a great job at providing a natural frame for the river.
Spend time with a new body of water near you. This can be particularly grounding if you’re in the diaspora and trying to find another meaningful way to understand the Indigenous people of the land you currently occupy. Spending time includes talking to people and reading about, wading in, walking alongside, sitting with, or swimming in that body of water. Get to know its Indigenous name and the stories that connect that waterway to its people. You’ll appreciate that water more, I promise.
- Jesi
About The Puti Tai Nobia Collection
The Puti Tai Nobia legend is inspired by my nana's stories of old Malesso' romance. Growing up, she would tell us fondly of the serenades that occurred nightly outside her window. How multiple boys would come and take turns in the street singing and playing music sometimes with an entourage of cousins or friends. One of those boys was my grandfather, her next-door neighbor, whom she eventually married. She would always laugh and tell us how she had multiple boys from various villages travel down to serenade her. One suitor even held up a radio to the window because he couldn't sing. Sometimes I catch myself wondering if the radio serenade had actually happened. I love it when a story sticks with me long after I first hear it; the perfect qualities of a captivating legend.
I wish I could travel back in time just to watch it all unfold. To see my nana at the age my cousins and I are now. Today, serenades like my nana described feel so far from our reality. My generation spends our time wondering if we will get a text back, NOT which village boys will show up to sing us to sleep.
The Puti Tai Nobia legend is my imagination of what I would see if I could witness my nana as a young girl. It is my love letter to her. The Puti Tai Nobia is both the girl I wish I could be and everything I love about the women around me. The Puti Tai Nobia legend is inspired by all the women in my life.It is my serenade to them and all that they represent and all that I can't help but admire. It is my love letter to all the awesome women who raised me, like my mom and my aunties. It is a love letter to my sisters, cousins, and friends. It is the laughter and the tears we have shared together.
With this collection and this story, I wanted to create something for the ladies. Something that speaks of their brilliance and their resilience. This is my attempt.
I used the puti tai nobiu flowers because I wanted to reclaim them in new ways. As a traditional weaver and artist, to be able to make use of invasive plants is something I believe to be essential to our island sustainability and self-determination.
I also wanted to reclaim the puti tai nobiu for the girls. I wanted to celebrate the ways we support each other through life. I wanted to share a little bit of the love my family always gave us as young girls. Growing up, and to this day, my family has always made me feel so treasured. It is the feeling I always hope to give my sisters, cousins, and friends when they are experiencing difficult times and heartbreaks.
To prepare this collection, I realized right away I would need help. I sent a quick message to my ultimate Pasifika fashion muse and friend Shannon McManus, aka the one and only MICROCHILD. In the time it took her to reply, I had several panic attacks, and I seriously considered deleting the messages and hiding forever (you know, as creatives do when sharing ideas for the first time). She not only agreed but also volunteeredtold Siobhon for photos. Truly a dream team. To Siobhon, Shannon and John, my models Lores and Tini: THANK YOU FROM MALESSO’ AND BEYOND.
Gathered together in my backyard we took all the amazing photos and videos for the collection. With some food, drinks, and laughter (and my cousin Kya, who arrived fashionably late--Puti tai nobia are always busy post-photoshoot), we created a Puti Tai Nobia playlist. Everyone suggested their Puti Tai Nobia song. Fair warning: I had to finalize the playlist, and while it’s all 100% songs I would dedicate to a Puti Tai Nobia in my life, calling it a “playlist” might be a little bit too generous. If you listen, you will quickly find that this playlist has no genre, and you might start wondering if I have any clue how a playlist should work. A valid question. Hopefully, you find a song for you, or for a Puti Tai Nobia in your life; a modern serenade from the girls to the girls.
A love letter, a modern serenade, a little physical reminder. I hope you wear these earrings and know how treasured you are. I hope these earrings and songs can be something you give to the women in your life to say "I love you. You’re my Puti Tai Nobia".
- Lia
Practicing the art of fino’ puti’on
Hafa adai, and welcome to the Fino’ Puti’on blog!
Minanggao Pulan has all the fun Cha-merch (Chamoru merchandise, obviously) to bring our values and pride to the mundane spaces of our lives. While creating Cha-merch is fun, Lia and I want to have a place to share photos, stories, and conversations that inspire us. We envision this blog to be our place to i fino’ puti’on, or engage in star talk. During ancient times, young Chamoru men gathered at i guma’ uritao (bachelor house) and learned new skills. It is said that these men spoke in fino’ gualåfon, or language of the full moon. Historic records from non-Chamorus made note of our men but did not discuss the languages and gatherings unique to Chamoru women. Talk about gender biases! There is no doubt that our young women ancestors had their own means of communication where they too learned from elders and found support amongst each other. Fino’ Puti’on is Minanggao Pulan’s imaginings of how Chamoru women collectively came together in the past and the ways we can build off of this to share in community and new futures.
This blog is a celebratory space that is meant to make you laugh, find inspiration, and hopefully get you to think about your Chamoru-ness in new and unexpected ways. Lia’s insights as a Chamoru born and bred in the Marianas will give you your daily dose of all things grounded in the home islands. Lia has her ear to the ground and ocean in Guåhan. My insights will be from the Marianas and beyond, and by beyond I mostly mean Aotearoa (New Zealand). I was born in the states and raised in i Sengsong San Diego, California (the Village of San Diego, California). I bring another kind of Chamoru perspective to our star talk, one that is in conversation with the home islands but also very much part of the diaspora. I’m currently figuring out what it means to be a Pacific person in Aotearoa, where Pacific Islander in this context often renders those of us from the northern half of Oceania invisible. We’ll get to all of those deep and meaningful conversations at a later time. All of our experiences of being Chamoru are valid, and hopefully you see yourself in some of these post. Together, Lia and I will show the ways Chamorus stay in connection and support each through our coconut network, which spreads across, through, and around again in Oceania. We hope you enjoy all the content to come!
Si yu’us ma’ase yan saina ma’ase,
Jesi