Students say Fiji and the Philippines each have their own unique garlands, both resembling and differing from the Hawaiian lei
First anchored in Hawaii by Polynesian voyagers, the tradition of lei-making does not exist on the islands alone. From the salusalu of Fiji to the garlands of the Philippines, Lisa Yabakivou and Tijane Paug reflected how the practice has thrived for ages across the Pacific, rooted in different cultures yet echoing the same love, respect and connection.
According to The Hawaiian Lei Company, lei-giving is a cherished tradition that has endured and flourished across different generations. It says even though many ancient Hawaiian customs have already faded, lei is preserved as Hawaii’s most recognized icon. “In the beautiful islands of Hawaii, everyone wears lei. A lei is a common symbol of love, friendship, celebration, honor or greeting. In other words, it is a symbol of aloha,” its website explains.
“Lei signify our unity and love for one another. It’s a way to share love and respect despite our differences,” expressed Yabakivou, a senior from Fiji majoring in accounting. Differences in identity and cultural origin, she continued, hold no bearing in lei-giving, making it a bridge between different cultures, especially in diverse communities like BYU–Hawaii. “It doesn’t matter what culture you come from. You can receive a lei, salusalu or garland,” she said.
“Making and giving lei make it easier for me to love other cultures,” shared Paug, a senior from the Philippines studying accounting. The practice, she added, helps her love and appreciate people across different backgrounds. “It’s like getting to know cultures through the act of lei-making,” she expressed.
Symbols of tradition, respect and honor
The Fijian salusalu, Yabakivou shared, holds a significant place in their culture. “It signifies love, respect and a warm welcome.” She said they normally use plant materials, such as the hibiscus fiber, along with fragrant flowers in its creation. “We string them together and give them to our guests,” she shared.
In the Philippines, according to Paug, garlands carry both cultural and religious symbolisms. While often seen at graduations, weddings and other prestigious ceremonies, she said specific types, such as sampaguita (Arabian jasmine) garlands, are also offered to religious statues. “For us, it’s usually a symbol of prestige, achievement or respect,” she shared.
Similar to Hawaii’s spirit of aloha, Yabakivou said Fiji has its bula spirit. “Bula is our greeting, like aloha in Hawaii,” she explained. Just as the Hawaiian lei communicates the spirit of aloha, she said the salusalu represents Fiji’s bula spirit—the love, respect and hospitality characterizing their culture.
Some of the differences between the Hawaiian lei and the Fijian salusalu, Yabakivou noted, lie in the materials involved and the design. “In Hawaii, the shape is usually circular to be worn around the neck and head. In Fiji, our salusalu is primarily broad and bib-like to cover the upper chest,” she shared. The salusalu, she continued, also takes a longer time to assemble because of its ornate structure, layering, size and multi-material composition. “That’s why it’s mostly done for major occasions.”
Paug said it was an old custom in the Philippines to welcome guests with fresh flower garlands primarily made of sampaguita, the country’s national flower. In recent years, however, she said modern practices now favor satin ribbons for an easier, more affordable and durable option. “Also, in the Philippines, you normally wouldn’t see people giving garlands on any occasion apart from ceremonies that celebrate people’s achievements or prestige,” she added.
Paug recounted helping her mother make garlands for graduations as a child, saying it was her only background with lei-making. “As a kid, I used to think it was a bit dangerous to make because of the needles and sharp tools,” she shared with a laugh. Still, she noted that even though the garlands were only made for graduation, she knew it was crafted with love built up over the course of a school year.
Crafted with care
Paug said what began as a simple gesture of welcoming a friend to Hawaii eventually blossomed into a personal tradition rooted in love and thoughtfulness. “Lei-making and giving, for me, is about ministering. It’s about sharing my love and affection for the wonderful people in my life,” she expressed. The art of lei-making, she stressed, is primarily driven by her desire to make people feel loved, cared for and appreciated.
Her interest in lei-making, she said, began with weaving headbands from coconut leaves and fresh flowers as part of her job at the Polynesian Cultural Center. “I was a retail sales associate, and my workmates were also trying to make some lei from the flowers we gathered that time, and that’s when I developed an interest in doing it as well,” she recalled.
She said her experience with garlands from the Philippines was redefined and enriched with each lei she crafted for friends in Hawaii. “My very first creation was only for welcoming a friend from the Philippines. But as time went by, I learned to love the tradition,” she expressed. She now makes lei for birthdays, milestones and ordinary days alike, using the practice to honor the special place her friends have in her life.
“If I could describe my lei in one word, it would be ‘care.’ When I give a lei, it’s because I care,” Paug expressed. Her lei, she said, is always crafted with the intention to minister for its recipient. “My lei lets them know that their existence is loved and recognized,” she shared.
Crafted with warmth
For Yabakivou, the tradition of making and giving lei is filled with warmth. “Not just the warmth of our culture, but the warmth of genuine connection and love,” she expressed. She said this feeling is especially strong at BYU–Hawaii, where people from diverse cultures come together as one community. “When we receive or give lei, we can really feel that warmth—the love and respect—both from the person and their culture,” she shared.
She said the first lei she crafted opened her eyes to the deeper beauty and significance of the tradition. “I realized just how much effort and love it takes to make a lei for someone you appreciate,” she shared. She said the experience made her reflect on all the times she received lei in the past without fully understanding the thought and care behind them. “Now, when I make them, I understand that they’re created out of genuine love.”
Since then, Yabakivou said she models her lei after the personality of the people receiving them. For her, the tradition reflects humanity’s deep capacity for love. “If I could describe my lei or salusalu in one word, it would be gratitude. Gratitude for the people who have loved, supported and influenced us,” she expressed.