I have been enchanted.  That’s not a matter of my having any special powers; it’s just that I was in the presence of an enchantress who was performing her art and, well, it happened.

The whole thing started in a fairly pedestrian way: while I was attending one of the classes in a course on Hawaiian Ethnobotany some years ago, the instructor, Lehua, handed out the text of an oli, or chant, that dealt with the creation and peopling of the Islands of Hawai`i.  She mentioned that she had studied and performed this oli as part of her training in hula.  Since I have often been impressed by the power and beauty of Hawaiian chanting, I wondered aloud if she would be willing to bring this particular oli to life.  She sat still for a moment, apparently considering the question, then settled herself, closed her eyes and began in the kepakepa style, a fast, rhythmic chant form. 

She seemed suddenly to age.  Her middle-aged visage took on the appearance of a very old woman.  Her hands seemed to be shaping things as she chanted.  Her voice also became that of an ancient.  This transformation held as she wound her way through the oli, a period of several minutes, and as she came to completion and opened her eyes, ended with a reversion to her usual appearance. 

The class continued on with its usual tempo and structure.  I never discussed my observations with Lehua or any of the students in the class, and it was only after recalling the experience some time later that I realized what had happened: as her voice enwrapped me with its ancient message, my perception of reality had been altered: I had, quite literally, been enchanted.