Cordyline fruticosa

Ki



Ti or Ki, also known as La'i (a contraction of the words lau + ki), was brought here to Hawai`i by the earliest Polynesian settlers. It's considered sacred to Lono and to Laka, goddess of the hula. It is also an emblem of high rank and divine power. Some say that our feathered kahili were inspired by this plant and the way it grows. It should come as no surprise then, that we have a variety called the Kahili Ki.

In ancient times, the kahuna wore la'i in lei form when they conducted ancient ceremonial rituals. Ti leaves are still used often today in religious ceremonies, especially at opening ceremonies to bless new buildings and projects. It's a practice that has transcended boundaries since people of all ethnic backgrounds seem to have adapted to this aspect of Hawaiian culture.

There were many uses for the ki plant in old Hawai'i. The boiled roots were brewed into a potent liquor known as 'okolehao. The large, sweet starchy roots were baked and eaten as a dessert. This versatile plant also had many medicinal uses, either alone or as a wrapping for other herbs needing to be steamed or boiled. The la'i were wrapped around warm stones to serve as hot packs, used in poultices and applied to fevered brows. A drink from boiled green ti leaves were used to aid nerve and muscle relaxation. Steam from boiled young shoots and leaves made an effective decongestant. The pleasantly fragrant flowers were also used for asthma. Besides its use in healing practices, the large ti leaves became roof thatching, wrappings for cooking food, plates, cups, fishing lures on hukilau nets, woven into sandals, hula skirts, leis and rain capes.



Ki

'O ka lau la'i ko'u kapa ia.
My border of ti leaf plants.



When I graduated from high school, my parents threw me a party. Compared to those of my classmates and acquaintances from other schools, the celebration for my achievement was a rather modest affair, consisting of less than thirty people, and most of them my age. The sort of gifts you gave one another back then was either a card with the same ten dollars in it that your friend had given to you earlier or would be handing over at your party later, or a lei. Imagine, then, my surprise -- and delight -- when my friend Paulo gave me a ti leaf plant.

Ti leaves have been a part of my life since I was an infant. My godmother used them on my fevered skin to help bring down fever. I learned to make lei with them from a teacher when I was in elementary school. One of the first costumes I learned to make for hula was a ti leaf skirt. I was taught to put lei in a puolo made of ... ti leaves. I grew up hearing and reading legends about how ti planted at the corners and along the perimeter of your home would help bring protection. It was always one of those plants that just was there ... and its importance to the life I've lived taken for granted.

I grew up knowing that the leaves are used for protection to ward off evil and to call in good. Some people say that when you have centipedes in your house, they are bearers of evil. Many years ago we had a rash of the creatures in our house and they kept biting just one person -- my sister. It didn't matter where she slept in the house, either, because they seemed to hone in on her for some reason. When my grandfather suggested we pule (pray) and put ti leaves under all of the mattresses and cushions on the sofas, their appearances and the bites stopped.



These trees are all descendants of that first plant from Paulo. It's been fifteen years since I left high school, and we have more than a hundred ti plants in our yard these days. They're my father's favorite to plant because they always grow. All he does is cut bits of the trunk and sticks them in the ground where he wants new ones to come up. Within months we have new ti plants! Some of them have been in the ground for years, and their roots are huge.

We have several varieties growing in our yard, too. There are variegated ones with rounded and blunt leaf ends, others that ripple on the edges, some that are orangey-red, others that are more yellow than green. I used to take that for granted too until a conversation with an online friend sent me to Google to find out just what he was talking about. These varieties have names! And they grow in pots and in offices on the mainland!



In retrospect I feel rather foolish for not even considering that, but they've all just been ti leaves to me for years. You always take for granted the things you have – for me, evidently, the flora around my house is one of them. Don't ask me what their names are because I honestly don't know. It's on the long list of things for me to learn, though. Someday….



I did learn that there is a way to create your own variety, though. When I was Googling, I found this little tidbit from an article by Heidi Bornhorst:

Sometimes ti will flower, and you can admire the flower stalk filled with tiny six-petaled lily-like blossoms. Plant breeders and ti fanciers cross-pollinate the flowers, wait for the berries to form and then plant the tiny seeds. This is how we get all those nice new varieties.

I have the worst green thumb in history so I'm not going to mess around with what we have out there. However, if you're interested, give it a whirl!

The ki's flower stalk is supposed to emerge in winter, and a branching, drooping cluster of flowers should come into bloom at the start of spring. I'm not sure if our plants are just confused, or if it's proof that the weather is messed up since these photos were taken a couple of weeks ago. At any rate, this one is growing right outside our laundry room.



And in the following picture, on another plant not far from my sister's bedroom window. Note the flowers and berries on the two plants, and how different they are in shape and color.



The ki plant is common – we see and recognize it everywhere throughout Hawai'i. And yet despite how commonly it grows it is very special. It speaks to us of strength and survival, and the abundance of blessings we receive daily here in Hawai'i.