Try, Adapt, Grow: A Lifetime of Learning at Mingalar Farm

Written & Photographed by Sarah Burchard

Videography by Reel World Filmmakers

Lemongrass – the citrusy heb integral to Southeast Asian cuisines – flourishes in Hawaiʻi. It loves the tropical climate and hot sun.

If you were to put a few bulbs of it in a jar of water and set it on your kitchen counter it would eventually begin to grow roots. Bury those roots outside in the ground and you will have a large patch of long, sharp, green leaves bursting from the soil begging to be sliced, smashed, or steeped into bubbling curries, hot soups, and teas.

Thereʻs something mystical about stepping on to someone’s farm for the first time.

Like entering a secret garden, a portal to the raw truths about nature and how a particular farmer manages it. Farms are often private sanctuaries, a part of someoneʻs life that only they get to enjoy.

Mingalar Farm was unexpected. We did not know that we would be arriving to peanut fields and betel nut trees, or a 40-year-old tortoise who likes to snack on green papaya. We did not know that if you split open the trunk of a banana tree you can pull out an ivory colored shoot that tastes like hearts of palm. We did not imagine we would meet a Burmese woman with a resume like an ambassador’s or meet a man of Mon heritage – an indigenous ethnic group from Mon State, Myanmar that has their own language, traditions, and cuisine.

Mike Thinn holding a banana stem

Mingalar Farm is operated by Saw Thinn and Aung Naing Htoo – who goes by Mike here in the United States. This husband and wife team introduced us to Mon culture and their remarkable life story by way of those ivory colored shoots – which they call, banana stems.

Our primer began with Mike taking a hatchet to a banana tree on his farm and ended in the kitchen learning a traditional Mon dish composed of sliced raw banana stems, tamarind, fish sauce, and turmeric-infused fried shallot and garlic. In between chopping and slicing, Saw revealed how she has practically become the poster child for the Pacific Gateway Center’s mission.

Although Mike and Saw are both from Myanmar, they could not of lived more different lives.

Mike grew up in Mon State, located in the southern part of Myanmar, just east of Thailand. His dad was a government official and his family owned a small restaurant run by his mother, with the help of Mike.

In 1988, during the uprising, Mike and his family fled Myanmar for Thailand. He was 17-years-old.

Saw, whose name translates to “famous” in Burmese, is from Mandalay – the second largest city after Yangon (formerly Rangoon) – located in central Myanmar, and came from a family that chose to stay.

“In 1988, some students, you know they have some kind of uprising,” Saw said. “They just do something like demonstrations, or strikes, or something like that. They are afraid that they will be arrested so that’s why they migrate to neighboring countries. … For us, for me, personally, we don’t do any strike, we just stay at home. … Our parents just let us, you know, “With the 70s going on you girls stay at home. This is it,” that kind of thing. And then we are not too much interested something like politics right?”

For someone raised to not have any interest in politics, Saw certainly went on to dedicate herself to bettering the lives of the people around her. She began her career teaching English – tutoring students in a medical university – and volunteering on the weekends working with underprivileged kids, longing to work in the nonprofit world.

Freshly harvested peanuts

Meanwhile Mike and his family settled into a refugee camp in Thailand and he got a job working construction. With the help of his aunt and uncle they applied for U.S. citizenship and in 2000 immigrated to Philadelphia. Mike started out working in a car factory, but eventually returned to his first profession: cooking. In 2006, after several years working in a sushi restaurant in Philly, Mike moved to Oʻahu and started rolling sushi for Advanced Fresh Concepts Franchise Corporation (AFC).

The following year Saw had the opportunity to come to Oʻahu to join the Asia-Pacific Leadership Program fellowship at the East-West Center. During this time she interned at the Pacific Gateway Center helping immigrant and low-income families become self-sufficient on Oʻahu. This experience enabled her to return to her country one year later and start working for the United Nations International Children's Emergency Fund (UNICEF).

Thai bananas

But, Saw was hungry for more. She applied for a student visa at Hawaiʻi Pacific University and returned to Oʻahu to earn her masterʻs degree in Global Leadership and sustainable development.

“My country Myanmar is an agricultural country,” Saw said. “Food is also our main lifesource, so that’s why after doing some preliminary research … I realize that, OK, Iʻll focus on sustainable agriculture.”

At the time Saw had no idea she would end up working on a farm. Her research investigated the relationship between adult literacy rates of the population in agricultural countries and how their agricultural resources were managed, so that safe environmental conditions and sustainable agricultural standards could be met. She understood that an illiterate farmer who can’t comprehend the fine print of contracts or agreements is bound to be taken advantage of.

Saw attended a Burmese social gathering one evening and was introduced to Mike.

A year later they were married and a year after that they started their first business together – an AFC sushi franchise of their own, which they operated together for three years while Saw simultaneously worked at the East-West Center.

Saw graduated from HPU in 2012, which meant her student visa had now expired. She had to return to Myanmar and leave Mike behind.

She returned to her country and got a job working as a project coordinator for the Sustainable Development Knowledge Network while she applied for U.S. permanent residency status.

Baby soursop

Three years later she officially immigrated to Oʻahu, reunited with her husband, and had a child. Mike was cooking and Saw got her job back at the East-West Center, where she continues to be a program assistant helping to manage their leadership programs to this day. To help make ends meet she worked weekends at Ala Moana Mall.

Mike and Saw wanted to start another business together, but without the capitol they were not sure how, until they heard about the Pacific Gateway Center’s farming opportunity.

“I never imagined that I would be a farmer in Hawaiʻi some day,” Saw laughed.

Mike and Saw Thinn demonstrating Banana Stem Salad at Pacific Gateway Center

But, quitting their weekend jobs to start a farm would allow them to bring their son to work with them.

“Five days and full-time … and then Saturday, Sunday evening I’m still doing the second job,” Saw said. “It does not work out. But if we do the farming the good thing is that we can bring the kid to the farm so he can … play around. … The work schedule is also very flexible. We can work in the evening, we can work Saturday and Sunday. You know, if we are tired, we don’t need to come to work. If we still have more time we can come and do so. Time management is really good to be a farmer.”

Betel nut palm

In 2016, Mike and Saw started Mingalar (Burmese for auspiciousness) Farm. They were the very first farmers to lease land from Pacific Gateway Center.

“If you have a passion to be a farmer, if you don’t have the land, if you don’t have the water, you cannot do anything,” said Saw. “Pacific Gateway Center … give us the opportunity to, you know, if you really have a passion, you know, this is the land you start to grow. This is the water, you can use it. And then, another thing is that some of the machinery … until now we don’t have the machinery. We are just using the Pacific Gateway Center tractor to till the soil. So, these are the things that Pacific Gateway Center is just like helping. … Just like kinda beginner farmers, that try our dreams to be a farmer.”

The encouragement they received from the Pacific Gateway Center gave them inspiration to try something new, the confidence that they could succeed, and the energy to keep them moving forward.

They also received support from the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA), which taught them how to get a loan, care for the soil, and conserve water.

Fellow local farmers generously shared their knowledge too.

“My former mentor, Christian from Kahumana Cafe. We also really grateful … because we learn. We learn from everybody … They give us the feedback of what we should do next,” Saw said, inspecting a tree for brown leaves to pull.

jicama, too overgrown to sell

For the first two years they lost money and crops trying to farm organically. It was simply too tough with their inexperience.

“Another challenge is that all the farmers, the neighboring farmers, they are not organic, so the pests are coming in,” Saw said. “We try to adjust the situation … we trying to adjust the chemical and pesticides. I tell myself that we can. And even the fertilizer, we just only use the chicken manure, another one is the bone and meat meal, these are recycled things we can get from the island.”

Now, in their fourth year, Mingalar Farm is finally starting to come around. Each day begins with watering seedlings and checking on irrigation. Since their farm is located at the end of the water line there are times when the other farms have used so much water, that there is none left for them.

“The pressure is really low in our side,” Saw said, explaining that when this happens someone at the Pacific Gateway Center will come out to help them access water.

In addition to water, weeds are a constant battle and the hardest part of their job.

“Farming is the lifelong learning,” Saw said. “No farmer gets success in every growing. We must try and then we must adapt and then we must learn something. And gradually, you will be … a “professional” gardener.”

Like planting the jar of lemongrass on your windowsill that has started to sprout roots, Mike and Saw buried the culmination of their lives into the soil at Mingalar Farm, and The Pacific Gateway Center provided the water and nourishment needed. As a result, Mingalar Farm is expanding. They are currently prepping a second plot of land just down the road, where they will plant new seeds and the cycle of their life will continue.

MIngalar Farm is located in the Pacific Gateway Center Farms in Kunia on Oʻahu. Their produce is sold wholesale to markets in Chinatown. You can inquire by contacting the Pacific Gateway Center: (808) 851-7000 or info@pacificgatewaycenter.org.

If You Grow It, They Will Come: B.I. Farm

Written & Photographed by Sarah Burchard

Videography by Reel World Filmmakers

I never knew there was so much locally grown produce in Chinatown.

At least four produce stands in this neighborhood are owned by Pacific Gateway farmers.

If you walk down to Hotel and Maunakea at 6:00 a.m. any day of the week you can find Phayvanh Inthisane whacking the stems off silk squash with a cleaver, before displaying them neatly inside her produce shop. A steady stream of customers – some in aprons, others pushing tiny carts doing their daily grocery shopping – filter in and out filling their arms with big bunches of leafy greens, asking for specialty items, or picking up odds and ends for their restaurant down the street.

Phayvanh and her daughter teaching Luke about winter melon

An older woman comes in looking for bitter melon leaves. “Not today Auntie,” Inthisane tells her. Inthisane feels bad. She has been too busy to harvest some of the items her customers have been asking for, such as a big patch of ube that is begging to be dug up.

Inthisane is the owner of B.I. Farm – named after her husband’s, son’s, and grandson’s initials. By letting her customers dictate what she grows and maintaining a relentless curiosity for market needs she exceeds expectations and has become the go-to source for many residents and restaurant owners of Chinatown.

Sweet potato leaves

After arriving early to deliver the vegetables and open the shop, she is joined by her daughters Camyl and Angela. One stays behind the register, while the other unloads boxes of produce onto shelves offering cooking tips to inquiring customers. After they are set up, the daughters take over and Inthisane drives back to the farm.

For this episode of Farmers in the Kitchen, we had the opportunity to visit the impressive 9-acre B.I. farm in Kunia, witness Inthisane in action at her shop, and learn how she makes two of her favorite Thai dishes using the crops she grows with the help of her younger brother.

Born in Laos, Inthisane and her family fled to Thailand as refugees when she was just a baby. Because both of her parents were born in Thailand their time in the refugee camp was relatively short: one year. Dad was in the military and mom worked as a seamstress making silk clothing.

Courtesy of Phayvanh Inthisane

“My dad become Thai citizen when he took us to Thailand,” Inthisane explained. “But my mom, because the people ask money to do the paperwork, we didnʻt have, so we decided to come to United States.”

At age ten, Inthisane’s aunt sponsored her and her family to move to Oʻahu with the understanding that Inthisane’s dad would eventually pay her aunt back.

Waking up in their Moiliili apartment, the day after they arrived, Inthisane remembers feeling sad. She missed her home and her cousins, aunts, and uncles back in Thailand. She was not the only one, no one in her family was happy.

Three months later, they lost Inthisane’s younger brothers to a car accident.

To cope with the unbearable reality of losing a son, her dad bought a farm in Waimanalo with the intention of keeping the family’s minds focused on something productive rather than continue to suffer from compounding depression.

“It keep us busy,” Inthisane said. “We can see the green things, and itʻs outdoors. We donʻt have to sit inside the house and think.”

Every day, in the late afternoons, after her dad got off work and Inthisane got home from school, he took his family to the farm where they worked until sunset.

Inthisane continued in her mother’s footsteps and became a seamstress, but like her father who worked in the furniture business while maintaining a farm, she continued to farm on the side.

Eventually she started her own farm in Waialua. This was the home of B.I. Farm for 14 years before moving operations to the Pacific Gateway Center farmland in Kunia two years ago.

Inthisane and her husband Bo Inthisane remember arriving to overgrown weeds and dead trees.

Early days of B.I. Farm. Courtesy of Phayvanh Inthisane

“When we first start in this place, itʻs just like a jungle,” Inthisane said.

Starting from scratch they leveled the field, brought in keiki plants from their former farm and friend’s farms, lined the perimeter with banana trees, and started filling in gaps with crops of all kinds.

“He do the hard work,” Inthisane said about her husband. “He chop the land, he make them smooth, and clean, and then he lays all the plastic and the drip line. When itʻs time to plant he says, “Come.”

Inthisane appreciates the farm for the same reasons her dad did.

“It keeps me busy and keep me forget things,” she explained. “You know, I love green, I love mother nature and then when you turn around ... the mountain. Itʻs beautiful, yeah? Thatʻs the reason why.”

Bo Inthisane is just as passionate. He takes great care in maintaining a well manicured field.

“He likes the land look clean,” Inthisane said. “If the banana yellow – the banana leaf – no matter how tired he is, he cut them off. I say ‘go sit down,’ ‘no, theyʻre turning to be yellow, theyʻre gonna be look ugly!’ ‘I say “oh my goodness.’ [laughs]

At the shop, Inthisane pays close attention to consumer needs.

“In the marketplace, sometimes I go see what is the high demand and I try to do it,” she said. “Sometimes I grab the seed to buy the seed from them. I show my family, ʻthis is what I want to do.ʻ They listen, they say, ʻOK letʻs do it.ʻ They have to listen because I’m always the person in the market. I work here and I work there. I know what they need from there. And everyday they ask me, ʻwhat are you going to harvest?’”

Mani Phongsavath harvesting Thai bananas. Courtesy of Phayvanh Inthisane

The farm’s ample variety is a reflection of these interactions. She grows everything from purple dragon fruit to fish mint. That’s right, mint that smells like fish. (See the staggering list of what was growing on the farm the day we visited at the bottom of this article.)

“Chinese, they like squash to make soup,” Inthisane said. “So, I plant different squash for them.”

She plants several different kinds in fact, including, silk squash, winter melon, pumpkin, bitter melon, and chayote – an ingredient she highlights in the Shrimp and Vegetable Stir-Fry she demonstrated for us at the Pacific Gateway Center kitchen.

Lemongrass is another ingredient she grows in abundance, selling it to Vietnamese and Thai restaurant owners who frequent her shop.

“The local people here, they use it a lot,” she said.

Inthisane dabbles in medicinal plants too. A thick, healthy tree full of noni stands near the shed. She gifts the fruits to her customers to produce a fermented daily elixir believed by many to be the ultimate immunity booster.

Goji berries are also grown, but harvested for their leaves only.

“We sell them in a bunch,” she explained. “[Customers] throw in a soup. Itʻs medicine. Itʻs really good for you. They do the tea and drink. Itʻs really good for the body.”

Inthisane’s younger brother Mani Phongsavath accompanied her to the Pacific Gateway Center kitchen to lead the cooking demonstration. Phongsavath has cooked on O’ahu for 14 years. He even owned a Thai Food truck on the North Shore next to the Giovanniʻs Shrimp truck for 2 ½ years that was featured on the Travel Channel.

With the moves of someone who has spent time in a professional kitchen, he automatically wets two paper towels to place under his cutting board and mortar and lays his tools out neatly before he begins teaching us his method for Som Tam – the infamous green papaya salad that embodies the flavors of Northeast Thailand where he and his sister are from.

After pounding away with his mortar and pestle to create the iconic salad, he switches gears and moves on to a simple, yet elegant stir-fry of chayote, chayote greens, shrimp, and green beans to showcase more of the ingredients grown on the farm.

Inthisane stands at his side chopping vegetables, chiming in when she has something to add. It feels natural, since she is usually the one calling the shots in the family.

As matriarch, farm manager, store owner, and representative for B.I. farms, there isnʻt a moment when Inthisane is not answering a question, deciding what to deliver to Chinatown and when, managing her store, cooking for her family, or planting crops. The amount of work that gets accomplished daily under her watch is astonishing.

“At this age,” she said. “I say, ʻthank you,ʻ to my mom and my dad. They taught me how to work hard and I earn what I take. When I take money it's OK, as long as I can see them [her crops] growing then Iʻm happy about it.”

Phayvanh Inthisane

B.I. Farm is located in the Pacific Gateway Center Farms in Kunia on Oʻahu. You can purchase their produce from their shop in Chinatown, also called B.I. Farm.

B.I. Farm [market]

1120 Maunakea St. Honolulu

*Storefront is located on Hotel street between Maunakea and Smith in Chinatown

Current B.I. Farm product list:

Thai bananas

Fish mint

Lemongrass

Thai eggplant (2 types: white & striped green)

Winter melon (squash)

“Smooth” squash

Green papaya

“Buddha hand” squash (Chayote)

Hard winter squash

Luffa Silk Squash (Oyong)

Jackfruit

Okra

Goji berries

Gooseberry

Dill

Bittermelon

Ube

Chicos

Purple dragonfruit

Soursop

ʻUlu

Chinese ingredient in the potato family. Large red leaves. (Don’t know the name!)

Cassava

Banana leaves

Banana flowers

Taro (she harvests for luau leaf)

MInt

Holy basil

Basil

Malabar spinach

Garlic chives

Hin Choy (Vegetable Amaranth)

Cilantro

Culantro

The Long Game: Pena Farm

Written & Photographed by Sarah Burchard

Videography by Reel World Filmmakers

Thousands of Filipinos relocate to Hawaiʻi every year.

In 1906 the first sakadas, or contract laborers, were enlisted to come work the sugarcane fields. By the 1930s Filipinos made up the highest percentage of plantation workers and the lowest paid of all ethnicities.

Gil Pena’s grandfather and uncles were amongst these men.

In 1990, Pena accompanied his mother, father, and two sisters to O’ahu to join them. A mission that took decades.

Gil Pena showing off his vines of long beans, which he likes to simmer in coconut milk with pumpkin and shrimp and serve with rice

On his namesake farm in Kunia, Pena shares his familyʻs story and describes his personal journey from his early years in the Philippines to his life now as a husband, father, farmer, and business owner on Oʻahu. Later, at the Pacific Gateway Center Culinary Business Incubator Kitchen, Pena teaches us his familyʻs version of Pinakbet – a classic Filipino dish made with pork belly and a variety of vegetables.

Before Pena took over Papaya and banana trees took over the majority of the farm

To understand Pena’s story it is helpful to acknowledge the history of Filipinos coming to Hawai’i. Opportunities to come over fluctuated heavily after the arrival of the first 15 sakadas in 1906. During the U.S. annexation of the Philippines, workers were contracted in droves, but war would continuously cause ebb and flow.

In 1932 an Act was passed by Congress declaring Filipinos ineligible for U.S. citizenship. An immigration quota was instituted allowing only 100 Filipinos per year to immigrate to Hawaiʻi.

When the Philippines regained independence in 1946 it also marked the last year for sakadas.

In 1965 the Immigration and Nationality Act was passed and the quotas were eliminated. Until then, the U.S. wanted young, single men, not men who were married with families. Now, immigration started to flow more freely, signifying a time in U.S. history when immigrants were welcomed and valued.

However, immigration was, and still is, extremely challenging. Pena’s uncle submitted the petition for Penaʻs fatherʻs Visa in 1970. Even with the Act in place the process still took 20 years.

During this time the Philippines was under Martial Law. There were no other opportunities for Pena and his family there, but to farm.

“Itʻs pretty hard,” Pena said. “We grow rice. Thatʻs how I grew up. I started when I was 6 years old. We have to plant the rice right? Plant it and then just dig it and plant it again.”

Pena endured 10 years of backbreaking work during his childhood waiting for his fatherʻs Visa to go through. He was 16 when they finally came to Oʻahu.

Pena has six brothers and sisters, but only he and two sisters were able to accompany his mother and father. The rest of his siblings had to stay behind.

“I donʻt know how the Visa works. They were over age and they got married, so they couldnʻt come in,” he said. “You have to petition them and then you have to wait.”

It took another 15 years for two of his brothers to acquire Visas after petitions were submitted. One now lives in Alaska and the other is on Oʻahu, which leaves another brother and sister still in the Philippines tending the rice farm.

For his okra, Pena enjoys it grilled and seasoned with calamansi and fish sauce

Pena and his family quickly assimilated to life in Hawai’i as best as they could. Pena attended Waipahu High School, while his mom and dad worked the Del Monte Pineapple Plantation. His first job in the U.S. was cooking noodles in a Japanese restaurant called Hanako at Ala Moana Shopping Center. Soon he met his wife Vaneza and became a warehouse worker in the receiving department of a hospital. They both worked two jobs, but struggled to make ends meet. So, they decided to go into business for themselves.

They started by selling produce at Aloha Stadium’s open market, eventually moving into a brick-and-mortar store in Waipahu. But, the shop didn’t survive and they soon found themselves back working open markets again.

During this time the couple started farming on the side, while patiently keeping an ear to the ground for the next opportunity.

“Then we had a chance,” Pena said. “So we took it.”

The chance was a space inside of the Chinatown Marketplace in Honolulu where they have been selling Filipino ingredients for the past two years.

Vaneza and Gill Pena (photo courtesy of Gil Pena)

“We were getting produce from everybody around this area – Kunia farms,” he said. “I get some produce from Kasy. I get from Catalina. I get from Pelon. I go around. We sell groceries, like, for Filipino dishes, like the fish sauce. Mostly Filipino stuff we sell there. Noodles, like pancit.”

Pena digging up mountain yams

Pena and his wife took over a plot at the Pacific Gateway Center Farm after a shady business deal eventually forced them out of their previous farm.

“Actually it’s sad, because we got fooled from other farm next door and they told us we have like a five year contract, but right after that, I guess too, its messed up, it’s too messed up, and all of the sudden, like, we got kicked out over there …

... It sucks you know, thatʻs our mistakes too you know? I should know better. For some reason I didnʻt ask for a contract, you know?”

On a weathered wooden deck adorned with empty buckets, igloo coolers, and trays of seedlings barely ready to be transferred to the field, a scattering of chicken feathers lay at Pena’s feet. Remnants of a fresh kill and a good dinner.

Pena Farm is still in transition. Pena took over last Spring and is slowly clearing out the old to make way for the new.

He started with okra, eggplant, mountain yam, and a variety of legumes. Long beans for Pinakbet. Kardis, or pigeon peas, for stewing with pork and malunggay. Mung beans for Monggo.

Malunggay (moringa), an important staple in Filipino cuisine

Pena grows sweet potatoes for the greens alone, turning them into salads composed of fresh shoots mixed with chopped tomato and fish sauce. There is even a bay leaf tree for seasoning Filipino Adobo.

Under a canopy of several different types of banana trees lay a healthy taro patch bursting with purple and green leaves. Pena and his wife peel and slice the corms at their shop and sell them in “ready-to-cook” packages.

Pena in his taro patch

“I want to grow a variety of vegetables, but I donʻt have that much land,” Pena said.

Pena acquired the farm from an elderly woman who was ready to retire. Mostly, it was a fruit orchard when he arrived full of pomegranate trees and past-their-prime papaya and banana trees.

Pena prepares banana flowers by removing the bitter center, boiling them and mixing them with greens to serve alongside fried fish

For his Pinakbet he uses vegetables grown on his farm as well as vegetables grown by his Pacific Gateway Farm neighbors.

The vegetables he selects make all the difference. Tiny okra, small enough to leave whole, so they donʻt release slime into the pot. Baby bitter melon, so young it has not yet had a chance to fully develop its seeds. Eggplant, so short and skinny they only need to be cut in half.

Pena’s Pinakbet

In the kitchen Pena preps the vegetables like he is still on his farm. Standing away from his cutting board he holds vegetables in one hand, while slicing them down just far enough to split them in half, but not go all the way through with the other. Even with this precarious positioning his blade never touches his hand. He continues with the bitter melon, quartering it, but leaving a hinge at the bottom, so that it opens up like a flower.

It is not just a force of habit, this technique actually helps the vegetables hold their integrity while they are being cooked down in one heavy mass.

A smile stretched the width of Pena’s face as he introduced his favorite fish sauce – the main seasoning agent in Filipino cuisine, often used in place of salt. E-Mars Brand is made with boneless fish, taking on a lighter, almost milky color as opposed to the black fish sauces more commonly seen in most grocery stores. Tirong, as it is translated to, is made in Pangasinan – where Pena is originally from. A taste, no doubt of his childhood.

Pena chose Pinakbet – named after the way the vegetables shrivel up after they are cooked down – because he believes it is mostly what Filipinos love to eat.

“Pretty much every time we have a party, like, family party, I usually cook that. Every time we have a party Pinakbetʻs always there.”

Chef Paul Matsumoto and his team making 200 portions of Pinakbet for We Are Oceania – an organization that serves Micronesian Communities in Hawaiʻi.

It is just Pena and his wife running the shop and the farm. The couple has two kids, but they mostly focus on school and only visit the farm during school breaks. He is thankful for his wife, who he says has supported him all the way.

“Right now we donʻt have that much employee,” Pena said. “There is just one in training, so she has to stay there [the shop] and I have to stay here [the farm] by myself. She only comes here after she finish, you know, closes the store. She do mostly all the planting. Cause me if I plant for some reason I donʻt know, it doesnʻt grow, so she does all the planting. [Laughs]

Seedlings to be eventually planted into the field by Vaneza Pena

Pena says it is worth it. The coupleʻs new farm is the most viable job they have ever had. After a lifetime of hard work and waiting, Pena appears truly content.

“Farming is hard work, but it’s fun, Pena said. “I start loving farming now. I learned from my friends, from most of the farmers. And they tell me how to do it.”

Pena says he will never move back to the Philippines.

“Iʻm good here,” he said. “Iʻm settled. Maybe I just go there for vacation, that's it. Cause I havnʻt been there in like 17 years. Take my kids...”

Pena Farm is located in the Pacific Gateway Center Farms in Kunia on Oʻahu. You can purchase their produce from their shop inside the Chinatown Market Place at City Square Shopping Center in Honolulu.

Pena Farm Market

Chinatown Market Place

1199 Dillingham Blvd Unit 103A

Honolulu, HI 96817

Learn more regarding the timeline of Filipinos in Hawaiʻi here.

Replanting New Lives At Kasy Farm

Written & Photographed by Sarah Burchard

Videography and photography by Reel World Filmmakers

What are the chances two women from Laos would come to the United States, live separate lives for over 30 years, and wind up as business partners on a farm in Hawaiʻi?

But, this is exactly how Kasy Soun and Orathay Rasabout’s story goes.

In early December we visited Kasy Farm to hear Soun and Rasaboutʻs incredible life story and how they have survived the pandemic. While navigating squash vines and mosquitos we got to see what they grow and learn what they like to cook with their crops.

Rasabout has been farming with her family on Oʻahu since she was 13. She worked on a few different farms, including Aloun Farms, before discovering the Pacific Gateway Center Farm in Kunia, where her and her mom originally showed up as volunteers.

“That’s how I met my ‘sister’ here,” Rasabout said pointing to Soun.

When Soun and Rasabout met, they discovered they were both from Laos. Not only that, but it turned out their dads knew each other in the military. Soun contacted her biological sister and asked if the name Rasabout sounded familiar. She confirmed that Rasabout’s father lived only an hour from the village Soun grew up in.

Rasabout and her mom officially joined Kasy Farm in March, Rasabout taking over as farm manager.

Here, on a 4.7 acre farm surrounded by lush mountains and palm trees, hugging a peppy little farm dog named Kunia, they reflect on how they got here.

Caught in the midst of three wars – Vietnam, Indochine, and the Laotian Civil War – Soun and Rasabout had no choice but to flee their country. Seeking refuge in Thailand, they waited until they received sponsorship to come to the United States.

Sounʻs family were rice farmers in Laos. They spent five years in a Thailand refugee camp. When Soun was finally sponsored, she was sent to Wisconsin where she would go to school and later work on an assembly line in a factory for 17 years. Afterward, she moved to California to care for the elderly for another 13.

Two years ago she came to Hawaiʻi on vacation and never left.

“Wisconsin is cold,” Soun said. “They have four seasons. Here it’s like Laos. … I can’t farm over there. Here I can grow whatever I want.”

Soun’s sister introduced her to a farm owner on Oʻahu. Soun enjoyed the lifestyle and started working for him. After two years the owner became ill and decided he couldn’t work anymore. Soun took over in October 2020 and renamed it Kasy Farm.

Rasabout was only a toddler when she left Laos.

“We ran away from our own country,” she said. “We ran over the border to Thailand to become a refugee. They call it camp. Everyone gets a sponsor. You gotta wait. … All I remember was that it was a bunch of tents, everybody has their own individual tent like youʻd have your whole family in that tent. … You wake up and you wait in line for food. … And thereʻs no bathroom. No nothing. You had to run somewhere to take a shower. All I remember was just playing with the kids … because we were trying to get away from the Vietnam, Laos war at that time, so we donʻt have much stuff with us to play with.”

Rasabout gained sponsorship at age five and was stationed in Boston where she lived for 8 years before moving to Oʻahu.

“I’m more like a modernized American,” she said “...I was a little smaller as a refugee so we had, like, a boot camp. So we came here and became civilized in the United States, but we still had a culture, our own culture still.”

Awaiting sponsorship in Thailand

The “sisters” keep each other company on the farm and stay busy with production. Their secret weapon is Phouthone Nonthavy – Kasy’s first hire. Every week he carefully plants seedlings into small trays, where they have time to mature in a safe space before being transferred to the field to become full versions of themselves. Much like Rasabout and Sounʻs time on the mainland after fleeing war, before coming to Hawaii to flourish as farmers.

With Nonthavy’s skills and the sisterʻs hard work the farm stays brimming with pumpkins, long squash, long beans, eggplant, tomatoes, bamboo shoots, and bananas year round.

Crops are constantly being rotated in kindness to the land. Walking through the farm we come across a baron stretch of vines, formerly peppered with long beans. Rasabout explains it is about to be uprooted and replaced with papaya trees. “You guys want to help us clean?” she playfully giggles.

A vast canopy of long squash propped up with trellises invites you to crawl inside. “You can sleep here!,” Rasabout joked. “...You can bring your mat and a radio. You could dance all night!”

Long Squash

Around the corner a pumpkin patch of scratchy leaves bites at Soun’s ankles. “We have to wear boots every day. Work in the field you gotta have boots honey,” she explains.

Soun and Rasabout recommend dishes you can make with their crops -– squash soup, eggplant tempura, and spicy sauce made by pounding fresh tomatoes, chilis, fish sauce, and cilantro with a mortar and pestle.

They describe a dessert called faktong sangkaya, where they cut off the top of a pumpkin, remove the seeds, fill it with coconut custard, put the top back on, and bake it slowly.

“I’m a good cook,” Soun said. “I like to cook Asian food honey. Not American. I don’t know how. … Spaghetti. I know how to make spaghetti.”

We discussed the dish they would demonstrate for us the following day at the Pacific Gateway Center’s Culinary Business Incubator Kitchen. Soun chose Green Coconut Chicken Curry, because she knew it would be a crowd pleaser. Chef Paul Matsumoto and team would be preparing 200 portions of her recipe for a Chef Hui distribution the same day.

Soun admits that she usually just cooks “old school” though. “You know, like, beef jerky with sticky rice with spicy sauce,” she said.

Despite all the laughter and the sister’s jubilant demeanors, life isn’t always paradise on the farm.

The pandemic took a toll. Distributors that once came regularly to purchase produce for Chinatown markets vanished, and by the time they returned the vegetables were so oversized they no longer wanted them. Rasabout estimates that they lost almost 2000 pounds of vegetables during the government shutdown.

“They all fall on the floor, Soun said. “Nobody want to buy it. Everything, the eggplants, the squash everything.”

Despite losing outlets for their harvests Soun and Rasabout hedged their bets and started planting again. An act of persistence and faith they have been practicing their entire lives. If the market came back they would be ready.

“We have to keep going,” Rasabout said. “If you stop, we don’t have produce and we don’t make money. That’s why we know that in three months we gotta plant again. It takes three months to grow.”

Chef Hui volunteers preparing Green Coconut Chicken Curry for distribution

Soun and Rasabout remain hopeful for the new year saying that business has picked up. Still, the arrival of winter makes it hard to keep up with production. 

“I worry about my vegetables,” Soun said. “I don’t like it, the raining every day. It kills my vegetables.” 

Rasabout manages her stress in a unique way. 

“I go punch a banana. I go punch a papaya!” she laughs. 

Despite business challenges the sisters are extremely grateful. They have reached a point in their lives where they no longer have to run, be told what to do or where to live. 

“We have fresh vegetables, we eat good,” Rasabout said.

Kasy Farm is located in the Pacific Gateway Center Farms in Kunia on Oʻahu. Their produce is available inside Chinatown Marketplace at City Square Shopping Center and select markets in Chinatown and Waikīkī.

Farming For Family: Foursquare Farms

Written & Photographed by Sarah Burchard

Film by Reel World Filmmakers

Around 10 o’clock, on a Saturday morning, Ikani and Mele Naulu hear the sound of pebbles rattling under tires. Dusty cars pull up to the end of a narrow dirt road and the Naulu’s emerge, welcoming their parents, aunties, uncles, nephews, and sisters to four acres of sprouting taro, cassava, and yam crops surrounded by a sturdy border of banana trees.

The women begin unpacking ingredients and cooking supplies from their cars, while the men and boys head off into the fields.

This is Foursquare Farms. A farm built for family. One that carries on Tongan traditions and exists to nurture relationships and give back.

Foursquare Farms is one of many within the Pacific Gateway Center (PGC) farmland in Kunia. It was Ikani’s lifelong dream to own his own farm, but until an introduction to PGC - a non-profit that helps immigrant families start farms by leasing them land and offering educational resources – he never thought it would be possible.

Left to right: Chef Paul Matsumoto (Chef Hui), Ikani Naulu (Foursquare Farms), Hao Nguyen (Pacific Gateway Center) and Mele Naulu (Foursquare Farms)

An acre of land, a phone call to his sister – who used to tend farm with his father – and several YouTube videos later and Ikani was ready to start planting seeds.

“Nowadays it’s easy. You can Google how to do this. Especially the Hawaiian tradition of how to make taro,” Ikani said.

Taro

After a fruitful harvest on their first acre, the Naulu’s leased the 4-acre lot that now keeps the family busy every Saturday.

Mele was born in Tonga, but raised on Oʻahu. She moved to Hawaiʻi in 1969 at age two with her mom and nine-month-old brother.

Ikani was raised in Tonga with his 11 brothers and sisters and came to Oʻahu in 1987 when he was in high school.

Like Mele’s father, Ikani’s father arrived first, starting his own construction company, so he could save up to bring the rest of the family out.

“In my island, to come to America, everybody like to come to America. More better life. The work is good, the weather, and then you have your family back home,” Ikani said.

Mele’s father’s background was in accounting and Ikani’s dad owned a farm in Tonga, but masonry was how they created that better life in Hawai’i.

Ikani, followed in his fatherʻs footsteps in reverse. He started his construction company – Foursquare Masonary – first. Foursquare Farms followed, established in September 2019.

Cassava

Ikani never farmed with his father in Tonga, explaining that he was just a kid back then. But he remembers watching him in the field, tending to taro, bananas, purple yam, and ube, knowing in his heart that farming was his destiny.

Now, over 40 years later, Ikani grows those same crops on Oʻahu.

“The yams are very significant in Tonga because they are one of our staple foods,” Mele said. “You’ll see it in every family home, at birthdays, church events. If someone’s putting out something, you’ll always have yams on the table. That’s why it’s important to us that we grow our foods.”

Eventually, Mele and Ikani’s paths crossed on O’ahu thanks to an introduction from Ikani’s brother. They have five children together, all grown and living in Oregon except for one. The Naulu’s run their construction business and farm together.

Mele said that Ikani had talked about owning his own farm since the early 90s. That they could never afford to lease the land. When the PGC opportunity came up it reignited a passion inside him that she had not seen in a long time. He may work construction during the day, but his heart is always at the farm she said.

“I'm so happy for my farm,” Ikani said. “To me, the farm brings together my family, all the nephews, all the sisters, uncles they come over here and get together. It’s very important for me for my family to get together.”

Pele (“Tongan spinach”)

Ikani hopes that by showing the kids how to live and work on the farm, that one day they will take it over.

“They love it!” he said.

Even their four-year-old grandson participates.

“He likes to go get his hands dirty,” Mele laughed.

On the edge of the farm sits two 6-foot-long tables surrounded by folding chairs under a tall, white tent. Beside them lies a 4- by 2-foot pit dug into the ground, reinforced with aluminum siding. This imu, or underground oven, is where aluminum-foil-wrapped pouches of meat and vegetables are packed snuggly amongst hot coals and rocks before they are covered with banana leaves to steam.

Freshly steamed Lu Pulu

Mele and Ikani take great joy in cooking the way they learned on their native island.

When they visited PGC’s Culinary Incubator Kitchen to teach the Chef Hui team traditional Tongan food, they chose the same dishes they cook back on the farm in the imu: Lu Pulu with Talo Loloʻi – a sort of corned beef hash made with kalo leaves and coconut milk served with taro root steamed in coconut milk on the side.

Traditionally, in Tonga, banana leaves are used as the wrapper for Lu Pulu.

“But here, now, in the western way, a lot of us use aluminum foil,” Mele said, showing the cooks how to prepare the dish in a commercial kitchen.

Chef Paul Matsumoto also shared how he modified their dish in order to prepare 150 portions, which he and his team would then send out to a local food distribution the following day.

Lu Pulu

The Naulu’s, being the devout Christians they are, believe in giving away 10 percent of what they have. They don’t just want to run a business, they want to give back too.

Being fortunate to not have been severely affected by the pandemic, they donated 300 pounds of cassava to food distributions set up through the PGC and a neighborhood Korean Church.

“God has given us so much and we don’t want to forget that,” Mele said. “Family is very important to us … not only in our immediate families, but we are also looking to see how we can have some kind of impact on our community.”

Right now Foursquare Farms mostly sells to friends and family. Mele just finished a 7-week Agri-Business course at the Patsy T. Mink Center For Business and Leadership. Her plan is to set-up social media accounts, so that she can start announcing their harvests and taking orders.

But on Saturdays at the farm, when the day ends with a table full of food, laughter and storytelling that lasts well into the night, Ikani isn’t thinking about the bottom line.

“Farming is not about money, it’s about family,” he said.

Foursquare Farms is located in the Pacific Gateway Center Farms in Kunia on Oʻahu. Their produce is available directly from the farm. Contact Pacific Gateway Center for details.