#tamalii

[ultraevonne]

#friday U know what time it is! Feliz Noche Buena-may u have all the tamales til u can’t tamal anymore. 🥴 Today is also a good day for pozole (my fav) and polvorones! 😋 Why did I pick this week to go sugar and flour free? 😭 #friyay #tamales #nochebuena #felicesfiestas #Repost @projectpulso with @make_repost ・・・ Before the Mayans and Aztecs indulged in these edible gifts, Olmec and Toltec women would make them as portable lunches in the army 😲 Turns out, the first evidence of a tamal is over 10,000 years old! Aztecs called tamales ‘tamalii’ which simply means “wrapped food�� in Nahuatl. Swipe ⬅️ to read more about this holiday favorite 🤤 . . . . . #PulsoTalk #Latinos #Hispanic #Culture #Latinas #History #News #LatinoCulture #HispanicCulture #LatinoPride #LatinosBeLike #LatinoPower #LatinoHistory #LatinoNews #Tamales #Tamalada #HolidayFood #Food #LatinoFood #HispanicFood #OriginsofTamales #WrappedFood #Tamalii (at Los Angeles, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CX4IRkNv0Zs/?utm_medium=tumblr

[lineagetheseries]

Introducing Tamalii Campbell as Draven Bancroft. What do you think ? #spnfamily

[idornaseminary]

Chapter Fifty-Three: Beatrice

Beatrice hummed softly to herself as she sat beneath a pine tree in the upper courtyard, an old ratty cloak wrapped around her shoulders, the hood pinned to the crown of her head so it didn’t blow away in the breeze. The scent of the sap dripping down from the splintered remnants where a branch used to be floated down to the Samoan woman who was propped up as she reviewed the contents of the book she stole the previous night.

As soon as she returned to her room shortly after 1 AM, Beatrice peeled the cover off a Muggle book her sister gave her for Christmas, The Fault in Our Stars by John Green, and slipped the ancient tome into its shiny blue and white jacket. She smirked as she scanned the few other souls passing by, knowing that Enzo probably knew she stole it but hoped it might buy her some time if he was pissed. Or failing that, at least allay some suspicion from other students, a frightened little voice in the back of her mind, whispering her anxieties in her ear though logically she knew only a few of them should be believed. Letting out a steady exhale, Beatrice studied what appeared to be a brief history book about the castle, written for its centennial celebration just over two hundred years ago.

The notes in the margins were filled with insights into the rooms beyond the vainglorious imagery that the school wanted to put forward, including rumors about forbidden lovers meeting up in secret back rooms like the one she’d visited last night. Her favorite thus far was a story about the two towers at the end of the gatehouse isolating the road from Old Aroon up to the castle, each of which had a little apartment at the top for guardsmen with a bedroom and an ensuite bathroom.

Beatrice chewed her lip as she looked at a schematic for every floor of the castle penned in on the empty spaces at the end of the book, wondering what the cartographer meant by ‘grotto.’ The room in question was a small square, not much bigger than a stairwell, and was tucked up on the seventh floor in a far corner near the healing and nurture classrooms. She looked up at the castle in front of her, barely able to see the tops of the towering turrets overhead, supposing it was just a storage closet. But what if it isn’t?

Unable to deny her innate curiosity, she carefully closed the book and tucked it in the crook of her arm as she stood up, rolling her eyes when the cloak stuck to the bark of the pine tree, caught in a large dribble of sap. Giving the worn and hideous green fabric a gentle pull, it fell away, the sweet-scented resin shining in the sunlight. Beatrice chuckled and headed back inside the castle, climbing nearly all the way to the top. And though her muscles were used to the steep ascent at this point, her lungs strained slightly, the rapid escalation leaving her a little lightheaded. She waved politely, feeling quite like an airhead, at a group of muggle studies majors murmuring cordial pleasantries until they were gone and she felt safe pulling her map out.

Beatrice wandered all the way to the end of the hall and frowned in confusion as she looked out a large stained glass window at the pitch black Gladur Forest far, far below. She glanced down at the yellowing pages of the book and turned to her left, doubt that the so-called ‘grotto’ existed flooding her mind. As she turned to leave, she saw the hallway extended little ways further, a large suit of armor obscuring passersby from paying attention to see the narrow entrance. She grinned, eyes shining with wonder as she slid along the tight corridor until she came to a wooden door not much wider than her shoulders with a stained glass image of the northern star cut and wedged into the center. Beatrice gave a little push at the door and was amazed when it swung open without as much as a peep, allowing her to step inside.

She let out a gasp and paused beside a table on which rested an old copy of the Uagadou Astronomy text, drawing her attention to the antique golden telescope sitting on the opposite side of the room where the exterior castle wall was supposed to be. Instead, it was replaced by glass panes and a set of French doors leading out onto a balcony looking over the upper and lower courtyards nearly a hundred feet below. A gorgeous Moroccan rug stretched across the entirety of the surprisingly spacious room, save for two feet from a small fireplace along the wall near which two plush armchairs sat. Opposite the balcony was a king sized four poster bed piled high with luxurious pelts and a mountain of feather pillows, a canopy made of heavy indigo velvet curtains hanging from the ceiling along each of the four posts, pearls and crystals the size of seeds peppered across the expanse of fabric.

Beatrice let out a soft sigh as she looked around the room for a moment in awe before her stomach growled loudly, the obtrusive noise echoing off the cobblestone walls. She rolled her eyes and chuckled, turning to leave as she made a mental note to remember the room’s location for later. She skipped down the central staircase towards the Grand Hall and dinner beyond lying in wait, making a pit stop at her room to send a note with Tamalii to Calix.

Could we please meet soon? I have a question I’d like to ask you. -Bea

[jazmyneaboo-blog]

Keep calm and fa'arapu

[kanelapualimaluhiaokaiwahine]

I don't ever do these but #tbt 2 summers ago. I miss these days. @imboss_e @kaaywett @ashkai_ @marisssaannne #tamalii

[ivanamarice-blog]

#throwbackthursday one of my all-time favorite pictures... 😊 The beautiful vahine of Tamāli'i performing at the 2010 Foster City Polynesian Festival 🌺💚💕 I miss the dance floor so much! #tamalii #hulasisters #family #ahuroa

[ntobias-blog]

Tamali'i Polynesian Dance from Hayward, Ca

[eeeeks-blog]

#life #ohana #tamalii #halau (Taken with Instagram at Tamalii Polynesian Dancers)

[sekseacielle-blog]

The little ogg's of #Tamalii! 🌺 @Neenzbaby @rinatui ❤ #throwbackthursday (Taken with instagram)

[idornaseminary]

Chapter Forty-Three: Beatrice

Beatrice sighed and trudged up the stairs towards the Gestona common room, her feet as heavy as lead, dragging her heart along behind her up the multitude of stairs. She smiled quietly to herself as she stopped around the fourth floor, looking back down at the red carpet running along the stony grand staircase, thinking about how Halina kept saying she was going to try mattress surfing them one year. The small grin on her face turned to dust the moment that pesky little thought crawled back up her spine, chilling her sweat as it beaded on her shoulders and rolled lazily down to the dimples above her hips: she might not wake up. Turning her attention back to the other two flights she had to climb before she could fall apart, Beatrice quickly ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time as she pushed past her fellow housemates.

As soon as she was safely shut behind her door, the lock engaged to regain some semblance of privacy, she allowed herself to fall apart, steadily sinking towards the floor. She curled up in a ball on the braided rug she brought from home in front of their fireplace, starting with a small sniffle and within minutes devolving into body-wracking sobs, her whole body shaking with each desperate gasp for air.

She couldn’t tell how long it took her to calm down, but when she heard a pecking at her window, her whole body ached as she stood up, the joints between her bones cracking, muscles screaming as they got the chance to stretch after lying on the hard floor for quite a while. She unlocked her window and let her owl in, offering a gentle smile to the friendly creature who dropped a letter on her desk before going to settle by the fire to preen its feathers. Beatrice chuckled and picked up the letter, sighing tiredly when she saw it was from her father, debating whether or not to read it later. Rolling her eyes and pursing her lips, she snatched the heavy parchment envelope from her desk, tearing open the indigo wax seal imprinted with the family crest. 

My dearest daughter,

It saddens me greatly to tell you this, and I wondered whether or not I should as it could interrupt your studies, your maternal grandmother has died. I know you and Pania were close, arguably more so than you and I are now, and your mother thought that you ought to know wherever you are. I wonder what she thinks you’re off doing instead of studying at Idorna that could keep you away from her so long. Who knows, she might even start to think you have a family of your own you’re keeping from her. They’ve decided to cremate her and are waiting for your return in the winter to celebrate her life. If it’s not too big an imposition, I think a letter from you might be appreciated, though I know how difficult you find it to lie, especially about Idorna. I hope all is well with you and that your fifth year is off to a great start. Things here are going well and running smoothly. The hospital just admitted a Veela, who is thoroughly fascinating to study and care for. I’m looking forward to returning to the Isle for the Halloween Celebration for Alumnus this year, and I hope to see you when I arrive.

Loving you always,

Your Father

Beatrice went numb with pain and anger, shredding the letter in a blind fury that startled poor Tamalii, causing him to fly up and land on top of her armoire as the bits of the letter floated to the ground. Shrieks of rage melted into whimpers, tears trickling down her blotchy cheeks as she sunk back down to the ground. Sometimes it was good to have to somebody outside the school to talk to about it, but the one thing that ruined it for Beatrice was that her father was that person.

[ivanamarice-blog]

Tamāli'i -- We're the perfect definition of what family means. My family, always. I love you all. I love you @neenzbaby! ❤ #tamalii #ilovemyfamily (Taken with Instagram)

[ivanamarice-blog]

Because I love my #tamalii family and because Manahere 2012 is tomorrow. #flashbackfriday Manahere 2007-2010 (Taken with Instagram)

[ivanamarice-blog]

#throwbackthursday SJ Tahiti Fete 2010! Love my #tamalii fam! ❤❤❤ (Taken with Instagram)

[ivanamarice-blog]

I love my hula sisters 😘❤👯👯👯👯 #tamalii (Taken with Instagram)