'Ailina's Pana Hula

The Kāhili: Hawaiian Royal Standard & My Father’s Bones

2008-05-20T23:17:00.001-05:00

kāhili 1 - Hawaiian royal standard
paper cutting

I had the very best of intentions for kāhili 1, but I'm afraid I sorely failed to meet my own expectations. Instead of a wound column of feathers, my standard looks like a strange 1960s potted plant atop a barbershop pole. And this was actually the third attempt tonight; tore the first two. Growl....

I'll try again, though next time, I'll make finer feathers, a slenderer wrap at the base, a narrower staff, and thinner stripes in the staff pattern. And, I'll omit the signature.

Interesting facts about the kāhili:

In ancient times, the kāhili was carried by the attendants of the ali'i (ruling class) to herald their approach, much in the same way banners were carried to announce the approach of a noble in many other cultures. The taller the kāhili, the farther away they could be spotted, allowing the commoners time to prepare for the nobles' arrival.

A single kāhili might require thousands of bird feathers. Yellow feathers were harvested from the tufts of the mamo and 'ō'ō (honey creepers) bird species, which were primarily black. Both species are now thought to be extinct.

Kāhili were made large and small. The largest versions were over thirty feet tall; the smaller versions were hand-held and used to fan away flies.

Today, The Kāhili Room at Bishop Museum in Honolulu houses the "'Ele'eleualani" kāhili ("Black Rain of Heaven") which was passed down to Princess Bernice Pauahi Bishop and given to the museum by her widow in 1889.

The tall kāhili are still used ceremonially in Hawaiian cultural events, including the opening ceremony of the Merrie Monarch Festival Hula Competition, during which the kāhili are carried in with the festival royal court.

---

During the appointment tonight, I considered...might I hide behind study and facts and reconstruction? Like my strange affection for ironing--smoothing out all the wrinkles in fabric, because I can't smooth out the wrinkles in my head.

Questions, hypotheses, research, collection, evaluation, dismission, acceptance, and understanding of broad, far-reaching subjects from inaccessible eras. Digging up the bones of people who are long gone and trying to piece together their remains in order to resurrect some beauty and nobility that is otherwise dead. Trying to capture the fading voices, to grasp and comprehend whatever might be their dying words. Fighting time for possession of knowledge that is draining away with the years of the last of those who remember.

Because I failed to do the same with Dad. And now he's gone, along with his voice and his words and what it was that he understood of the world.

And because I am living my own history, and I doubt I'll ever come to an understanding of the woman I am, the woman I'll be when I die. Which is why I eke and scratch every fleeting thought and emotion, through images, through words, scrambling to create a record of each moment of my life so when I'm gone, something of me will be left for someone to understand. Maybe they'll see something wonderful that I never have. Maybe they'll understand things I never could. Maybe they'll learn from my mistakes and find themselves spared certain brands of heartache.

To understand a people or a legacy is to know them intimately--their grief, fear, ambitions, beliefs, inspirations...the strengths of their discoveries, the weakness of humanity. It is to accept their inheritance of generations of knowledge, and the richness of their cultures. This, I have never been able to accomplish with my own people, my own family, my own father.

Regret, for all I never asked him, for all he tried to teach me that I never heard.And an eternal yearning, because all the research I could possibly conduct throughout the remainder of my lifetime will not bring him back and will not afford me the opportunity to tell him how much I loved him, and that if given the chance, I would try so much harder to understand him and embrace his dreams.

Maybe this is a reason, or part of a reason, why I search so ardently, why I dig until I hit a rocky bottom. I haven't found his bones, but I've found thousands of tiny shatterings that reassure me he was indeed here.

Drawing the Hawaiian Islands: Hawai'i

2008-05-17T00:46:00.005-05:00

Not a very impressive sketch by anyone's standards, and later done than I promised myself, but it's a small exercise that will help in a lot of ways.

Choosing a map for drawing reference can be tricky. Not all maps of the islands are created equally, and I'm ever mindful--most mindful--of what resources would meet the approval of the kānaka maoli. I think that's more important to me than if a map is approved by a government organization.

So, instead of using a map from a .gov site, I chose to use Pukui's Place Names of Hawai'i. Can't go wrong with Pukui.

I never realized how difficult it is to draw geography! Really, the result must be as precise as possible, otherwise, it looks hokey and just wrong wrong wrong because it IS wrong wrong wrong.

That wouldn't matter so much, except I know how it feels to look at a map and see your particular city/region/area is not represented. It's a lot like looking at a class photo that you're not in, but you know you were there that day. "Where am I???"

So...to any kama'āina who may perchance look at this drawing and see that your area of the coast is not here...I deeply, deeply apologize: E kala mai!

Next...Maui.

Pana Hula Hou: New Layout

2008-05-09T00:34:00.003-05:00

Decided it was time for a site makeover. The old layout was based on the Blogger template "Scribe," with several amateur tweaks and forces. Got tired of the thrown-together, pasted-clippings look and decided to go with something cleaner.

The header image is a photo taken by little brother, Cory, in Hilo in 2006. These were the pahus used by Kumu Chang and the other ho'opa'a for our Merrie Monarch hula kahiko. No explanation needed, I assume, for why I chose it.

And pink, because I'm in dire, dire, dire, DIRE need of some catharsis, and creamy pink is the next best thing (visually) to creamy coffee.

Hard Stomach & Hip Swish: Demands of Karate & Hula

2008-05-08T23:25:00.001-05:00

Maybe it only seems like hula haunts my every endeavor. When one loves something so passionately, she sees it everywhere and in everything. My study of Shotokan is no exception.

Striking similarities I’ve uncovered so far:

The Japanese writing system referred to as “Revised Hepburn Romanization” (established c. 1887 by James Curtis Hepburn) frequently utilizes a macron to indicate long vowels: Tōkyō.

In the Hawaiian language, the macron kahakō (appeared c. 1821 in transcriptions by missionary Hiram Bingham) is used to indicate a lengthened vowel sound: Lāna’i.

As Westernization began to impose on the Okinawan culture in the late 1800s, the people were pressured to abandon the traditional “topknot” hairstyle in favor of short, Western haircuts.

In Hawai’i, after missionaries influenced the ali’i to adopt Western ideas and mannerisms, the people were led to European styles of dress, instead of the native pā’ū and kīhei.

As The Meiji Restoration tightened its hold on the Okinawan people, the traditional arts of karate-dō and kendō (fencing) (among other arts) were banned. Practitioners were forced to train in secret, and never spoke of their training.

In Hawai’i, as Western philosophy continued to dominate, the traditional art of hula was banned. Dancers and chanters and their kumus went underground and never spoke of their hālaus.

—

I was a bit disturbed by something I read in Genshin Hironishi’s foreword to Karate-Dō: My Way of Life (Gichin Funakoshi).

He writes:

A Japanese actively seeking self-enlightenment will say that he is “training his stomach” (hara wo neru). Although the expression has wide implications, its origin lies in the obvious necessity to harden the muscles of the stomach, a prerequisite for the practice of karate, which is, after all, a combat technique. By bringing the stomach muscles to a state of perfection, a karateka is able to control not only the movements of his hands and feet but also his breathing.

Okay. I’m not “a Japanese actively seeking self-enlightenment.” But hardening the stomach as “obvious necessity” and “prerequisite for the practice of karate” all but eliminates me from ever reaching an ideal level of skill–at least as it seems to be above described by Mr. Hironishi.

I’m not whining and complaining. “It is what it is,” and my mommy-tummy definitely “is,” and I can’t whine or complain about that, because it could be a lot worse. I mean, really. It really could be.

But it’s just like with hula. And Tahitian. I will never, ever, ever–no matter how hard I study, no matter how hard I practice, no matter how much I learn–ever, ever reach a level of considerable skill, because my body just isn’t capable of the range of motion that’s required. Sure, I can “sway” and “swish” to a point of appearing to sway and swish, but these just ain’t competitive hips. The centrifugal limit is quite…narrow. Like trying to bend a steel rod. Literally.

I accept this. It is just a little heartbreaking, because my brain thinks I can do it. But just because a person wills herself to fly doesn’t mean she can.

So what of the “trained stomach”? There’s only so much training my stomach can do. Alas, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.

Am I being a defeatist? No. A realist. Just because I acknowledge my limitations doesn’t mean I intend to put a cap on my efforts. I’ll continue to aim high, but not so high that I begin to envision myself far beyond my means, and not so high that I place myself in harm’s way (which–in martial arts–is relative).

—

Sensei Sage told us, “When it’s time to test, Mr. Master is not going to judge you alongside your peers, or compare you to any other martial artist but yourself. He’s going to look at you–take into consideration your health, your age–and decide what you’re capable of doing.”

This may be a comforting thought. Except I wonder…do I look like I’m capable of more than I actually am? I’d have to answer “yes.”

In hula, no one had any idea my spine’s fused together. There was a time or two when Kumu urged me to “make bigger motions with your hips…Swish…Swish…Swish!” Under my pā’ū, I was pushing my hip into the joint, consciously over-extending, even though I knew it wasn’t proper form. I reasoned, if it looked correct and exaggerated to his liking, then that was okay, since the technique was happening “under wraps.”

I don’t think I’ll be able to get away with anything like that in karate. But even if I could, I wouldn’t want to. There’s more than aesthetics at stake, and I know enough to admit shortcuts like that are a big mistake–on so many levels.

Memorizing the Hawaiian Islands

2008-04-27T00:43:00.001-05:00

Page 15 of Joseph Feher's Hawai'i: A Pictorial History describes "The Location of the Island Chain."

The islands of Hawai'i are a series of basalt peaks, part of an underwater mountain range built by volcanic eruptions over millions of years.

...and so on and so forth, including facts about the altitudes both above and below sea level, the archipelago's location in reference to the Tropic of Cancer, and distance from the west coast of North America--which is roughly 2,000 miles.

I do understand written English, and I'd say my vocabulary is adequate, but once the subject begins to drift more and more into the domain of Science, I comprehend less and less. I try to compensate by endeavoring to grasp the broadest concepts, allowing the finer details to slip through the cracks. Finer details, after all, are available on the Internet to anyone-anytime-anywhere with just a few clicks.

I set three humble goals.

Learn each of the eight major Hawaiian Islands by name--in geologic chronology from oldest to youngest island, and from northernmost to southernmost.
Be able to recognize by sight each island.
Be able to draw from memory each island.

Since study time is at a deficit, I decided to tackle goal #1 for now.

The Hawai'i Geographic Alliance website (of University of Hawai'i) features a universal lesson plan for just such an endeavor. Hawai'i Nō Ka 'Oi, compiled by Maxine Asato, integrates "geography, cooperative learning, art and music" to help students learn about Hawai'i's place in the world. The lesson includes a song to help with memorization--Hawai'i Nō Ka 'Oi, sung to the tune of "Pearly Shells."

Unfortunately, my brain works in such a way that memorizing the song would take much longer than my preferred mnemonic for short lists of things--the acronym. So, after several false starts and discarded possibilities, I came up with one I really like. I expect to meet my three goals in a day or two.

Creation of the Hawaiian Islands: Papa & Wākea

2008-04-11T00:30:00.001-05:00

Disclaimer: The author is not an expert on Hawaiian culture and has not been educated in a Hawaiian Culture degree program. Information included here is the result of self-guided study of resources available on the Internet and in recommended reading material. Further, content shared here is not intended to educate, but is rather an ongoing documentation of the author's personal exploration.

------------

So, I posed the question: Who are the Hawaiians? Where did they come from?

As if that weren't a loaded question.

First, there is the story of "Creation," which tells of the beginning of all, from dark and light. The sacred epic chant Kumulipo describes the origin of everything in existence, and the beginning of the Hawaiian islands comes much later. For me, understanding the Hawaiian concept of Creation is biting off a little bit more than I can chew at the present, but the subject is earmarked for later exploration.

Second, there is the story of the creation of the Hawaiian Islands, which seems to be a more focused subject.

The first chapter of Joseph Feher's Hawai'i: A Pictorial History (Bishop Museum Press, Honolulu, 1969) opens up with the description of "The Mythological Concept of Creation," which doesn't reach back to "dark" ("spirit", "Po") and "light" ("Ao"), but begins with the genealogy of the islands, beginning with Wākea--father sky, and Papa--mother earth. (Painting at right: "Papa and Wākea," by Solomon Enos, indigenous Hawaiian artist.)

The account described in Feher's book seems to agree with the details in the chant provided by Martha Beckwith in her book, Hawaiian Mythology (1940), who cites composer Pakui, a kahuna of the heiau of Manawai on Moloka'i during Kamehameha's reign.

In "Part Three: The Chiefs" (page 301), the section "The Myth of Papa-hanau-moku" gives Wākea and Papa as the first pair to bear the children (islands) Hawai'i, Mau'i, and Kanaloa (Kaho'olawe).

Wākea fathered other islands with other women, and eventually returned to Papa to bear the youngest islands in the Hawaiian chain.

In my reading, I gather this isn't the only perspective of the creation of the Hawaiian Islands. Other sources show Wākea and Papa as parents of all islands, but I'm afraid I just didn't have the night-hours to explore any farther. I think I'll do well to use Feher's book as a launchpad for research--at least basic concepts for now.

So, I have an idea of the "mythological concept of creation" of the islands, which will eventually lead to the origin of the Hawaiian people.

But not yet. Next, Geology.

Hana Hou

2008-04-08T13:45:00.000-05:00

It's a daring move. I must either be out of my mind, or maybe I truly have recovered from mourning enough to visit that place inside that was so recently made memorial.

I went up to the attic, dug around in the dark, and found the large box into which I sealed up my Hawai'i. I saw the leis, the ipus, the pā'ūs, the mu'umu'us, the CDs, DVDs, hats, flowers, postcards, notebooks, photo albums.... I picked over the majority of it, keeping emotions at bay and focusing only on the few items I allowed myself to recover.

Minutes later, I descended the rickety ladder with an armful of books, texts, and a few CDs, among which were the few Hawaiian language materials I have, and definitely my Pictorial History of Hawai'i, by Joseph Feher (which I paid a pretty penny for, year before last, because in all of the world, I found only three copies for sale).

Why? Because I'm beginning to forget all I've learned. The historical events are foggy at best, the vocabulary words are beginning to bleed together. Hawai'i's essence is beginning to take on a sterile, non-pulsing position in my head, as dull and dead as an encyclopedia article. I don't want to let go. Not entirely. I don't want to forget.

So I'll start at the beginning again. And the questions I first want to answer...Who are the Hawaiians? Where did they come from?

Ka Ho'i Mai

2007-11-10T21:51:00.000-06:00

Almost a year to the day (minus 5) since I wrote here. I think enough time has passed, the distance is great enough that I can face the things I cannot have without the pain cutting me to the core.

Everything Hawaiiana is boxed up and set in the attic shadows, with the exception of Ka Lei Ha'aheo and Pukui's dictionary. Dreams of graduating kumu hula are laid to rest, and my love for hula is folded up with hali'a aloha in the antique kerchief I wore at my waist on the stadium stage. The time for mourning has passed, and now, I can look ahead to a leisurely self-education with the main purpose of enhancing my writing.

Thus far, I keep a modest study routine, meeting with a dear hoa aloha once a week (when times are not too busy for the both of us) and practicing the material in Ka Lei Ha'aheo. Progress is slow, but thorough.

I also registered for the first long distance learning language course offered through Kamehameha Schools' "A'o Makua" program--'Ōlelo Hawai'i: E Ola Ka 'Ohana. It is the most affordable program I've yet found--$25 for 4 weeks--with the exception of the free Kulāiwi video series, available through the same organization.

I no longer have grand visions of becoming fluent, or becoming a learned scholar of Hawaiian language and culture. Those aspirations are beyond my reach, practically speaking. But I can strive for less lofty goals--becoming moderately knowledgeable of ka 'Ōlelo Hawai'i, at least to the degree I can incorporate the language and mana'o into my writing as inspiration requires. There is, after all, so much in my heart I'd like to express, and fiction is the only "acceptable" and accessible mode for me in my particular station in life.

'A'ole waimaka, 'a'ole hekili. E kū a'e ma kou mau lima--I mua....

Dearest Iolani...

2006-11-15T19:52:00.003-06:00

My beautiful, sweet sister...

Thank God!!! My heart is just overflowing with joy to hear from you! I still can't believe you've contacted me! I'm so happy! This is such wonderful news! I can't wait to tell everyone!

We have been looking for you for over six years now. Where are you? I can't tell you how many times we've gone to Houston, knocked on doors, driven all the old streets, gone to all the old places trying to find you and Rogelio. We never had any luck.

We looked in the phone books, did online searches...the whole family has been searching for the two of you for so long!

Please, please send me an email: alaranang@gmail.com. I want to talk to you as soon as possible!

I love you and your brother, Iolani! We all do! And we've missed you terribly!

Your big sister...
'Ailina

Witnessing History: Uncle George Holokai

2006-10-15T02:41:00.001-05:00

(photo: Hula Preservation Society)

One of the most exciting things I've ever seen...at the Hula Preservation Society website, I viewed footage of Uncle George Holokai dancing the hula kahiko E Ho'i Ke Aloha I Ni'ihau. Why is this so exciting? Because I've witnessed another ancestral generation in my hula lineage! I learned E Ho'i Ke Aloha I Ni'ihau from Kumu Chang, who learned it from Uncle George, who learned it from his kumu hula, Tom Hiona.

Uncle George has been something of a legendary character in my mind. We all so revere Kumu Chang and his mana'o. When he speaks of his kumu hula, it's almost as if he's speaking of a time and place we could never experience. It is the stuff of legend and history far beyond our reach.

But in realizty, Uncle George is a living, breathing human being, and he still passes on his mana'o to hula haumâna in Hawai'i and on the mainland. (Uncle George is coming to Indianapolis, IN next month. Unfortunately, I am unable to attend, because the trip is utterly unaffordable. However, those interested in attending can contact Cheryl Bell at cbell@indy.rr.com.)

I met Uncle George very briefly while in Hilo for Merrie Monarch. We were in the dressing room minutes before our hâlau was to take the stage for our hula 'auana. We looked up, and there he was standing just inside the doorway.

I simply could not believe that we had the honor of a visit from him, especially at such an important time for our hâlau. There was time for little else but to greet him, but still, seeing Uncle George in the flesh was a profound event for me.

Though I won't be attending his workshop, though I won't have the opportunity to learn directly from him, I'm no less moved by seeing a simple video clip of Uncle George dancing a hula that I know!

'Ae, all of us are aware Kumu Chang's knowledge came from a specific source, but it's a rare opportunity when we are able to witness and watch that very source! It's like finally meeting a blood relative we've always heard about but never seen...like singing a family song together, sharing knowledge we all possess but have never been able to share before.

I'm so thankful organizations like the Hula Preservation Society are spending time and other resources to document and preserve our kûpunas' mana'o. There are so many of us who might otherwise never have the opportunity to partake of this knowledge. It's at times like this when I am reminded just how precious a resource is the Internet, and how important preservation organizations are to Hawaiian culture!

Aloha Fest 2006

2006-10-11T01:46:00.001-05:00

Ua hele koke au i ka moe i kêia pô nei i ka hola 'eiwa wale nô. Ua mâluhiluhi loa au. I kêia manawa, 'o ka hola 'elua i ke kakahiaka nui, akâ ala au. Ua makemake 'o Mocha e hele i waho. Ala 'o ia ia'u i nâ manawa nui i nâ pô--mâluhiluhi loa mau au.... Like me i ka pêpê wale nô 'o Mocha!

Ua 'ike nâ kaikamahine i nâ mea o kô lâkou mau makemake nô Halloween. He geisha 'o Ewa; he kuini hau kea 'o Hau'oli; he cheerleader 'o Maile; a he ballerina 'o Akeakamai. Nui ka hana humu! I kêia lâ, e hele ana au i ka hale kû'ai humu a e kû'ai mai i nâ pattern a ke kapa nui. Makemake au e ho'omaka e humu i kêia ahiahi, akâ ua 'ike au e mâluhiluhi ana au. Pêlâ paha e ho'omaka ana au i kêlâ 'âpôpô.

Pau 'o Aloha Fest. Le'ale'a nui! Ua hula kô lâkou hâlau i ka Po'aono. Ua hula lâkou i nâ 'elima hula kahiko a me nâ 'elua hula 'auana. Ua hau'oli au e hula me ko'u mau kaikaina hula. Ua maika'i e 'ike hou iâ lâkou. Ua ha'o au i ko'u 'ohana hula.

'Ula'ula kô mâkou mau pâ'û. Ua komo mâkou i nâ kupe'e kukui a me nâ lei kukui. Aloha au i nâ mele. 'O ka ho'okahi manawa e hula au me ka hâlau, a pêlâ paha ka manawa hope loa no ka manawa lô'ihi. Minamina kêlâ, akâ ua 'ôlelo 'o Kumu Chang e pule ana 'o ia no au. Kâlele au iâ Ke Akua no ka mea pono.

Ua 'ike au i nâ mea hoihoi, a ua 'ike au i nâ kanaka 'olu'olu. Nui ke aloha ma laila!

Ua 'ike au i ke kumu 'ôlelo Hawai'i mai Dallas, 'o Kumu 'A'ala. 'A'ole hiki ia'u i 'ôlelo me ia; minamina kêlâ no ka mea ua makemake au e 'ôlelo iâ ia e pili ana i ka 'ôlelo Hawai'i! Pêlâ paha e 'ike hou au iâ ia.

Ua 'ike au i kekahi kâne makemake e ho'oma'a ha'awina i ka 'ôlelo Hawai'i. Pêlâ paha e hui ana 'o ia iâ mâkou i ka hui Iâhu.

Ua 'ike au i nâ kanaka nui i kô Hina 'ohana nui. U'i loa 'o Hina mâ! A lokomaika'i loa! Nui ke aloha ma kêlâ 'ohana! A kiuke loa kêlâ mau keiki!

Ua kû'ai mai i nâ mea nui:

he kapa moe Hawai'i nani
he 'eke lau Hawai'i
he lei wiliwili, ua hana 'o Aunty Edie (nani loa!)--mai Maui mai nâ hua
he 'aila niu
nâ pepa Hawai'i
nâ kulapepeiao no ka'u mau keiki
he pala'ili Aloha Fest

Nui ke kâlâ! Ua makemake au e kû'ai mai mau i kekahi mau mea Hawai'i, akâ ua 'ilihune au! Aloha 'ino! Akâ, ua mahalo au.

Ua hana au i ka 'aila niu ma ko'u lauoho. Maika'i wale nô ka 'aila niu! Ua ho'omana'o au, ua hana ko'u mau 'anakê i ka 'aila niu ma kô lâkou lauoho ma Hawai'i i ka wâ kamali'i. Ua makemake au i ka 'aila niu i ka manawa lô'ihi. Ua 'emi ia! Nâ kâlâ 'ehâ wale nô! Ua kû'ai mai au ma ke pâkaukau o Island Sand and Surf. Ua 'olu'olu nâ kanaka ma laila. Nani kô lâua mau mea. E kû'ai mai hou au!

Ua 'ai au i ka laulau!!! 'Ono loa!!! Ua 'ai au i ka moa hulihuli me ka laiki, a me ka potato-mac salad. 'Ono loa!!! Auê. Makemake au e kuke like me i kêlâ!

'Ô! Ua hâ'awi mai 'o Manu ia'u i kekahi mau makana! Hana 'o ia i nâ kâleka aloha Hawai'i. Ua makemake au i kêlâ mau, a ua nînau au iâ ia e lawe mai i Aloha Fest. Ua makemake au e kû'ai mai, akâ, ua hâ'awi mai 'o ia ia'u! 'Olu'olu loa 'o ia. Ua hau'oli loa au e loa'a i kêlâ mau.

Ua hâ'awi mai 'o Manu i ke ki'i'oni'oni 'ôlelo Hawai'i! Hoihoi loa au! 'A'ole au e kali e nânâ i kêlâ!

Maika'i 'o Aloha Fest. Makemake au e hele i nâ mahina a pau, akâ 'o ho'okahi manawa i ka makahiki 'o Aloha Fest, i Okakopa. Pono au e kali nui!

Ma ka 'auinalâ, ua mâluhiluhi loa mâkou. Ua 'eha ko'u mau wâwae! Akâ, ua hau'oli loa mâkou.

'O wau, ko'u kaukini--Mahina, a ka'u kaikamahine muli loa--Akeakamai

I went to bed early tonight, at only 9:00. I was very tired! Right now, it's 2 AM, but I'm awake. Mocha wanted to go outside. He wakes me many times every night--I'm always very tired.... Mocha is just like a baby!

The girls know what they want to be for Halloween. Madison wants to be a geisha, Sunny--a snow queen, Maile--a cheerleader (she chose the colors for LSU!), and Sophia--a ballerina. Lots of sewing! Today, I'll go to the fabric store and buy patterns and fabric. I want to start sewing tonight, but I know I'll be tired. Maybe I'll start tomorrow.

Aloha Fest is over. Great times! Our hâlau danced on Saturday. We performed five hula kahiko and two hula 'auana. I was happy to dance with my hula sisters. It was good to see them again. I missed my hula family.

Our pâ'û are red. We wore kukui kupe'e and leis. I love the songs. It was the first time I danced with the hâlau, and maybe the last time. That's regretful, but Kumu Chang said he'll pray for me. I trust God for the right thing.

I saw exciting things, and I met kind people. So much aloha there!

I met the Hawaiian language teacher from Dallas, Kumu 'A'ala. I wasn't able to speak with her; that's regretful, because I wanted to talk to her about the Hawaiian language! Maybe I'll see her again.

I met many people in Hina's large family. Hina them are so beautiful! And so lokomaika'i! Much aloha in that family! And so cute, the kids!

I bought many things:

a lovely Hawaiian print comforter
a Hawaiian print bag
a wiliwili lei, made by Aunty Edie (so beautiful!)--the seeds are from Maui
coconut oil
Hawaiian print paper
earrings for my daughters
an Aloha Fest t-shirt

So much money! I wanted to continue to buy some Hawaiian things, but I was poor! Too bad! But, I'm thankful.

I used the coconut oil on my hair. The coconut oil is just great! I remembered, my aunties used coconut oil on their hair in Hawai'i when they were children. I wanted coconut oil for a long time. It was cheap! Only four dollars! I bought it at the Island Sand and Surf table. The people there were nice. Their things were pretty. I'll buy from them again!

I ate laulau! So delicious! I ate hulihuli chicken with rice, and potato-mac salad. So delicious! Auê! I want to cook like that!

Oh! Manu gave me some gifts! She makes Hawaiian stationery. I wanted those things, and I asked her to bring them to Aloha Fest. I wanted to buy them, but she gave them to me! She's so kind! I was so happy to get those things.

She gave me a Hawaiian language movie! I'm so excited! I can't wait to watch it!

Aloha Fest is great. I want to go every month, but Aloha Fest is only once a year, in October. I have a long wait!

In the afternoon, we were so tired. My feet were sore! But we were very happy.

(pictured--me, my cousin--Mahina, and my youngest--Sophia)

Nâ Moe'uhane Maika'i 'Ole

2006-08-23T08:14:00.000-05:00

'A'ole maika'i nâ moe'uhane i ka pô nei. Ua 'âla au i nâ manawa nui. I he ho'okahi moe'uhane, ua loa'a au 'o ia, a ua pili mai au iâia i ko'u poli. He minuke lô'ihi ia, a ua 'ike au i ka pumehana, a ke aloha mai. Ma hope, he poepoe piha.

Akâ, ua minamina 'o ia, a ua 'a'ahu 'o ia i kona po'o ma lalo o ke kapa moe. Ua kaumaha au no kêlâ, a ua 'âla au.

I ka moe'uhane a'e, ua lohi au no ke kahiko hula Mele Manaka. Ua kôkua 'o ia ia'u e ho'omâkaukau, akâ ua makemake wale no au e pili mai iâ ia. Ua ho'omaka ka hula me a'u 'ole.

'A'ole au i mana'o e pili ana i kêia mau mea no ka manawa lô'ihi. Mana'o au, ho'omana'o au i kêia mau mea i kêia manawa no ka mea e ho'i mai ana ko'u kâne, a ua 'ike au i kona aloha pumehana 'ole. E mehameha ana au.

Sufficient for the Day

2006-08-23T03:53:00.000-05:00

I have so sorely neglected my writings here. This may have been the longest hiatus thus far. Having other forms of catharsis has not necessarily been the healthiest thing for matters of posterity and introspection. I intend to change that.

Yet--I intend many things. People who know me best know that I am never lacking the very best of intentions, but intentions are not the stuff of good character or respectability. And certainly not what leaders are made of.

Recent discoveries...

hula ma'i
Leo Hone
grooved lei kukui (of ancient times)
"Nâ kapu are often written on the heart."
Maika'i Kaua'i (classic Hawaiian mele)
Dad's ukulele is "kani"--sweet-sounding.
Even during the Kalâkaua era, there were country people who maintained a way of life relatively uninfluenced by Westernization, this apparent in the construction of their homes, their daily dress, their eating habits....
The triangular styled petroglyphs representing humans was unique to Hawaiian culture.
One man spent 10 hours a day for 4 months to create a large Hawaiian quilt in record time.
Early 'ûli'ûli were often covered with bird skins, rather than fully ornamented with feathers, as the modern implements.
Early Hawaiians played a long, narrow stringed instrument that was held between the teeth on one end.
Early wooden plates crafted for dining often featured a smaller compartment specifically for holding salt. The samples I saw closely resembled modern styrofoam or plastic picnic plates!

~~~

I don't know what the future holds for me. I cannot say I never think about where I might be someday, but the potential for that achievement has so little bearing on what I do now! I find that so surprising. In the past, I have worked toward something, and it's not that I am not mindful of this now. But honestly, the work is what's important to me. The task at hand. Learning from this particular circumstance. Do the best I can with this present challenge at hand.

It's like sculpting a life. I have a vision of what the completed piece will look like, but that is not so important to me as is, say, perfectly molding the hand, or smoothing a perfect arch in the back, or pressing the chin up just so high. The bone must be perfectly conceived. The muscle must be precisely engaged. The skin must be true to the contour beneath. Weakness or untruth in any feature does not render expression, but portrayal. These are not one and the same. Each and every detail must be drawn straight from the heart, of painful attention and critical completeness.

I do not think much about the future. I only push this day as far as it can go. I would die peacefully at any moment, content to have reached with all my might.

'O Kamehameha Nui

2006-06-15T22:02:00.001-05:00

I have no time to be distracted. Those perplexing little thoughts have gone up in smoke. Today, I could care less.

I'm incited again, to plunge deep into something. The language is right here in front of me, and I am just on the cusp of the most basic level of conversational. I can do it. There is a breakthrough coming.

But I want more. I haven't danced in so many weeks, but my intellect is thirsty for some broad-contexted, fate-defying, world-changing drama. I want to know what happened. I want to see the vintage photographs, study the artifacts just inches away from my fingertips behind a thin pane of glass. History is that way, a clear sheet of time.

I don't want to learn and forget, the way I did in the younger years. I don't want to sit captivated, then leave everything behind as soon as I step into life again. I want to carry the knowledge with me.

We're reading 'O Kamehameha Nui together, in Hawaiian. His is another portrait I must draw. Now would be the opportune time. Before or after I read the biography through? Or as I go? The first impression never lasts. There is always much more I discover beneath the surface of an expression.

Kamehameha I appears to have been a stern man. I know many men died at his hand. What if he were my father? Would I look at him the same way?

Dad was in war. He killed men. I never could reconcile that fact in my head. This was my sweet, adoring, affectionate father who told jokes and kissed me goodnight. It seems an impossibility he could've been warlike in war. But I know there are depths of human nature I'll never see.

Perhaps Kamehameha was a gentle man sometimes. Perhaps he was never gentle. In any case, he didn't have to be. He was ali'i. He was feared and respected and loved. That was what mattered.

I'm surprised we have so much information about his life. Surely, all we know was passed down to us through chants, and later, historical texts.

As always, I'll do what I can to uncover as much information as I can, and celebrate the knowledge I gain, somehow. The goal still calls...a portrait of each and every ali'i in the Hawaiian monarchy. We begin with the first king.

He 'Iole Make & Ka Leo Ki'eki'e

2006-05-24T03:54:00.000-05:00

I feel I should kapu kai. Or bathe in bleach, since the ocean is not accessible. I'm devastated. Utterly.

I acquired two brand new 'ûli'ûlis just months ago--only used them maybe two times tops--and now I have to dispose of them.

I'm crushed because A) They're expensive. B) If you want good quality, you have to wait. And I did. Patiently. C) They were my first pair of red and gold. D) They're sacred to me, because hula is sacred to me, and these are instruments of the art. E) I can't afford to get new ones any time soon!!!

Why do I have to dispose of them? Are they broken?

No.

Water damaged?

No.

Mauled by a cat?

No.

I have to dispose of them because a mouse crawled into one of them and died.

Of course, I never would've known the thing had died unless I smelled it. And if I smelled it, then obviously it possessed some awesome powers of stench. And if that's the case, it's been make for a while.

The 'ûli'ûlis are in perfect condition, but they've been steeped in dead mouse ick for ?? # of days.

Besides that, my sacred 'ûli'ûlis have been in contact with the make, and even though I'm not well versed in the Hawaiian tradition on that subject, I've learned enough to know the implements are defiled and must be put away.

How do I dispose of the implements? Something tells me I can't just put them in the trash. And if they're not suitable for me, I'm not going to put them on eBay for someone else.

I'll have to write/call Kumu and ask what my course of action should be. Another (this time, morbid and biohazardous) learning experience.

Darn.

-----

But there is beauty despite. A new endeavor...I've decided to learn to sing ka leo ki'eki'e (Hawaiian falsetto).

I'm an alto by default, and age has stripped away some clarity of tone and an octave or two. But I theorize--if one's vocal range is determined by the strength and flexibility of muscle, they can be retrained and beefed up. There is hope.

I've wanted to sing falsetto for a long time, ever since I heard Nâ Palapalai. I thought then that falsetto was something for which one had to be either born or bred.

But in my attempts, I find that I am able to cleanly break notes into falsetto, but only within a very narrow range. Usually, the falsetto note is on, but weak. The break is strong, but holding the note.... I think the only cure for that is strengthening exercises.

We come full circle to the Almighty Dollar, because I'd have to pay a teacher to show me how to exercise. I don't know how to exercise my voice other than to sing. But usually, I'm too self-conscious to do that at any other time than in the shower or in the car--because the break into falsetto requires a lot more air flow for me, which means more volume. And I don't want the whole neighborhood to hear me.

I wish I had a voice instructor. I wish there were a soundproof studio where I could go to practice. I wish my nails weren't claws, so I could play my guitar properly. (But I won't cut them. Hula tradition is more important than sticking chords.)

I wish there were a handful of mea hula here who would sing with me. You can't have falsetto without those nahenahe harmonies. And you've got to have the kâne falsetto singers, too.

I guess we can't have everything we want. We can't even have everything we have!

Dumb mouse.

My heart longs to kanikapila, but the family is so scattered. I could teach them a variety of songs so we could play when we're together, but how can I do that if we're only together maybe two times a year?

George is an excellent guitarist. I don't know if he's every played slack key before, but it would be a challenge.

The song that's been haunting me for days is Waiulu--the recording by Nâ Palapalai. Oh, it's so soulfully sweet. It just breaks, melts, and fills my heart all at the same time. I get chicken skin and tears almost every time I hear it, which lately, has been about 10x a day, not including the times I practice singing it.

I'm utterly in love with the song. And with Kehau Tamure's voice.... 'Auê...I want to sing like her.

I'm not sure what I can do other than sing every day and try to find the opportunity to warm up so I can hit full volume for a bit.

I'm gonna ask George to record the guitar accompaniment and email it to me. Then I can focus on just the singing and not worry about hitting the right frets, or that terrible screeching noise that exudes when I don't.

Dumb nails.

...(Sigh.) I don't mean that. Refraining from cutting the nails is an important tradition. I've never learned why it's an important tradition, but as far as I'm concerned, every tradition is important. So it matters to me, even if I don't understand the logic.

In parting...a preview....

Waiulu
performed by Nâ Palapalai
(audio clip)

E o waiulu i ke aloha
I kou pili hemo`ole i ke kau
`O ka hana, hana 'ia ua pono
Pono `oe pono pû ho`i kâua

Bind your love tightly
Never to be severed over time
Doing all that is proper
So that you and I prosper together

E ke aloha e maliu mai `oe
Eia ho`i au ke kali aku nei
`O ka `ike ua noa kau hana
He nani ka`i`ini pu`uwai

My love, listen to me
For here I am, waiting
I know that you are willing
How lovely is the heart's desire

'Auê....

2006-05-20T08:22:00.000-05:00

Pîhole au. A ua ho'omaka wale no i ka lâ.

He aha e hana me a'u? Mana'o ia'u e moe i ka lâ. Nani ke kakahiaka. 'A'ole nâ ao. E wela loa ana kêia lâ. Pela paha e hiamoe ana au ma waho i ka noho, o moe ho'olana me he mau moe'uhane li'ili'i. Nô ka Pô'aono kêia mau mea.

Nui nâ mele ma ko'u po'o. Lohe au i kêlâ mau, a makemake au e hula, akâ 'a'ole au 'ike i nâ ke'ehi. He mea kaumaha kêlâ. Hula ko'u pu'uwai, akâ 'a'ole ko'u mau wâwae.

'Ike kekahi mau haumâna hula iâ nui nâ hula. Nui nô! Akâ 'a'ole au. 'A'ole pilikia. Pela paha 'ôlelo ko'u kumu iâ'u, "'A'ole pono e 'ike nui nâ hula--Ma'ama'a wale nô i nâ hula ma kou po'o." 'Eâ?

'O ko'u noa ka 'Ôlelo Hawai'i

2006-05-16T10:26:00.000-05:00

Pa'akî'î he ola me ka makemake nui. Kolohe nâ mana'o. Holoholo lâkou, ke 'ano like me he mau keiki li'ili'i.

Pani au i ko'u mau maka, a pâ nâ moe 'uhane i luna ko'u 'ili, ke 'ano like me ka ua 'aila. O ke ahi hu'ihu'i.

Makemake au i kekahi mea 'ike iâ'u i loko ko'u kino, ma ko'u mau hua'ôlelo. Ho'oma'i ka hâmau iâ'u. 'O wau 'o ka mea kanu, 'a'ole au i ka wahine.

Pa'akîkî he ola me ka makemake nui, no ka mea, he ola me ke aloha hikiwale kêia.

Papa 'Ôlelo Hawai'i: A Chapter Ended

2006-05-02T01:24:00.000-05:00

I am gravely disappointed. But not ungrateful.

I was unable to register for the second semester of my papa 'ôlelo Hawai'i (Hawaiian language class) because finances would not allow it. After the heavy expenses of the Merrie Monarch Festival, there was nothing left to pay my tuition.

I am deeply disappointed, but I cannot complain. The trip to Hilo was well beyond my family's means to begin with. I knew even at the beginning of the first semester that it would take nothing short of a miracle to be able to pay for the trip and the second semester, too. But I pressed on in my studies, hoping something would happen.

It was not meant to be.

The setback is heartbreaking, I admit. I'm feeling such regret. My kumu 'ôlelo Hawai'i (language teacher) was the very best. She chose me as her student, rather than the other way around.

In the beginning, I requested a teacher who might be willing to work with me, as the class schedule would inevitably conflict with the preparation schedule for Merrie Monarch. My kumu stepped forward and volunteered to take me on, despite the complications.

At first, I was able to keep up. I was often the first to submit an assignment, and I finished the given work well before the deadline. But as the competition drew nearer, I posted my submissions later and later, sometimes pushing the deadline to the very minute.

Still, my kumu was ever patient with me. She even allowed me to take the Hô'ike Hope Loa (final exam) when I returned from Hilo.

The staff at Aha Punana Leo is unparalleled. They are not only dedicated perpetuators of the Hawaiian language, but of every aspect of Hawaiian culture (naturally). I explained to one staff member how the Merrie Monarch competition drained me financially, but how I viewed the trip as a premier educational experience, relevant and necessary. He vehemently agreed.

So, I believe my kumu understands how important it was that I try to continue my language education and make the trip to Hilo, too. Unfortunately, the matter of tuition is out of her hands, and there is nothing I can do but be grateful I was able to begin my studies, and be happy I'll be able to continue them at the start of the next semester in 'Aukake (August).

Regretfully, she will not be my kumu in the next semester. She is dedicated to the group who will continue without me, but that's as it should be.

In the grand scheme of things, I'm sure there is a purpose I cannot see from here. There is a reason things didn't work out for me this time. And I'm certain it is for the good of my education, if not for the benefit of someone else who I may not have met yet.

Still, I'll miss my kumu and my classmates terribly. Granted, I've never really met any of my classmates, but I have corresponded with a few of them via email. I've come to understand why they are as passionate about learning 'ôlelo Hawai'i as I am. I've come to recognize their voices from their audio submissions. I've witnessed their struggling points and their strong points, too.

And then there's my kumu 'ôlelo Hawai'i.

I never, ever dreamt I might get to meet her in person. It was purely "chance" that I learned the Aha Punana Leo headquarters are in none other than Hilo! When I learned I'd be in the same city for the Merrie Monarch Festival, I couldn't wait to ask if I might be able to meet her.

Our hâlau performed at the Nani Loa Hotel that week, and my kumu took the time to travel there to meet me. She was expecting to see me perform, but unfortunately, my Louisiana sisters and I got lost in the mix, and we did not perform. All we really did was stand there, smile, and wordlessly represent Louisiana. All the while, I knew she was there in the audience somewhere, waiting to meet me.

After the performance, a woman wearing a beautiful lauhala hat and a wonderfully kind smile to match approached me in the middle of the hâlau confusion. My kumu 'ôlelo Hawai'i!

I know it sounds terribly sentimental, but for me, meeting her was a profound blessing. I have the utmost respect for Hawaiians who dedicate themselves to teaching others--including non-Hawaiians like me--about their culture. And of course, I have a special affection for language/literature educators, simply because language and literature are so close to my heart.

For me, learning to read, speak, translate, and write Hawaiian is the equivalent of giving voice to my heart. Hula is, after all, "the language of the heart." My kumu 'ôlelo Hawai'i helped me begin to "speak." For someone who was so silenced by geography and generational gaps and something of an "orphanhood," that means more than anyone could know.

So to begin with, she held a special place in my heart. Of course, I'd never communicate that to anyone but Mom (and the vacuum of a blog), but that doesn't change the power of that truth.

As if teaching me weren't enough of a gift, my kumu presented me with a gorgeous lei--orange and green crocheted ribbon entwined with a strand of faux pikake. A lasting treasure.

Had she not even thought to give me a lei, I prepared one for her anyway. I began working on it long before the trip. It was only the second lei I'd ever made (the first, for myself, as directed by Kumu Chang). It was an eight-strand mountain laurel seed lei (similar to the wiliwili seed lei made in Hawai'i, pictured right), bright red and shining. I am certainly no expert lei-maker, but I took special pride in that lei, not only because it was beautiful to the eye, but because it was made with so much Aloha for one person in particular.

I keep the lei she made for me close at hand. It's a reminder...nothing in Hawai'i is surface; everything holds layer upon layer of meaning. A language class is not only a language class; it's a key to the heart of the people. And a language teacher is not only a language teacher; she is the guard of the heart--she keeps watch at the gates, and may place the key in the hands of a student worthy to learn. The lei she gave to me is her acceptance and encouragement. I won't forget that.

So, the photographer brother was there to capture the meeting. He said the photo came out so nice. I have yet to see it, along with all the other fantastic photographs he took. I do know my kumu and I are both wearing our leis in the photo.

I intended to frame the photo with the lei, but I think it's more appropriate to wear the lei, and wear it often. The lei may fade and fray over time, but that is the natural thing with all items we cherish.

To come full circle.... I missed this second semester, but this certainly is not the end. I'll press on, come what may. Who knows what the coming months will bring. Who knows what amazing things are just around the corner.

In the meantime, I'm going to study independently from the text and pray for an open window.

Hilo

2006-04-30T00:34:00.000-05:00

A Moment With Kumu Chang

2006-04-28T23:20:00.000-05:00

Hau'oli Lâ Hânau, e Kumu!

Getting There

2006-04-27T23:07:00.000-05:00

Brother George, Cousin Maricar, Sister Tia

Mom & Kid

The Approach

The Merrie Monarch Chronicles

2006-04-27T23:03:00.000-05:00

Merrie Monarch 2006 - Day 1: The Embarking

2006-04-14T07:37:00.000-05:00

So here I go out the door. Months of preparation are now beginning to quickly thread together into one tight, solid knot. This is the week of Merrie Monarch.

I've learned the choreography, the chants, music. My costumes are fitted and prepared. My bags are packed. I'm constantly visualizing the stage, the sea of faces staring at me from behind the glare of the lights. I'm continually imagining the invasive cameras on me, but I am confident, I am oblivious to the focus of the media--I'm completely and totally absorbed in the song.

I'm indeed prepared. Rehearsed. Practiced. But this last week...this is the week of perfection. This is the week of polish and hone. This is the week of intensity.

O Hilo...you will yet see the very best of me.

The kids are safe at Gran's. Piko is at Josie's. Mocha will be under the care of the neighbor. M. will be whisked off to work before MM even begins. I only hope he can be in the right place at the right time so he can see us live. It's just not the same on DVD.

-----

So today, it's on to Houston for the (mandatory) manicure & pedicure. Then sushi at Cafe Japon. Bubble tea thrown in there somewhere. And the rest of the evening will be spent helping Cuz pack, stringing the last of the leis, and scraping together all those little things we've surely forgotten.

Tomorrow, practice and planning.

Sunday morning, 3 AM. Off for Dallas airport. We'll be dressed to the nines in our Merrie Monarch tshirts, cowboy hats, and mountain laurel seed leis. There will be no mistaking this hâlau is indeed from Texas.

-----

I'm armed with the digital camera, camcorder, voice recorder, and journal. My objective is clear. I've got to do my best to preserve this time, because it's not going to come around again. I only hope I don't get so caught up in a special moment that I neglect to capture something about it. The goal is to chronicle this entire experience, even if it's relatively piecemeal at first. The heavy coverage will come later, after it's all had a chance to settle on the brain.

I have a feeling I may become a bit obsessive about "capturing the moment," but I'm aware there are layers and layers to each and every exchange, more than one meaning, more than one lesson, more than one epiphany, more than one purpose. I can't possibly absorb it all in "real time," so I'm hoping to capture several dimensions of each situation so I can reflect on it in depth long after the trip is over. There will probably be more in this trip than I could ever hope to record.

-----

I'm anxious, anticipating, nervous, intimidated, terrified, worried.

Will the plane be safe? Will I make the family proud? Will I make Kumu proud? Will I meet God's purpose for me? Will I recognize the air, the sea? Has so much time passed that I am categorically a tourist???

Will I remember the dances? Will I choke? Will I make a fool of myself? Will I remember all the 'ôlelo Hawai'i I've learned?

Will I have time to spend with the family? Will Forest enjoy the trip? Will he learn anything? Will the girls miss me at all? Will he miss me at all?

Am I forgetting anything? What if my costume doesn't fit? Will I sleep comfortably? How will I cope with a public bathroom?

Will I run into anyone I know? Will I have enough money? Will I run out of cell phone minutes? Will I lose anything? Will my camera die?

Will I make it to Houston today? Will I be too tired to drive? Will the manicure hurt?

Will this be everything I expect it to be? Will I do this experience justice? Will God bless me?

-----

Oh, 'Ailina, 'Ailina. What a blessing. What an honor. I don't know what it is that you did to deserve this opportunity, but seize it with your very soul. This is God-given.

In everything, do as unto the Lord.

I'll offer Him my utmost. This is a moment of personal best. This is a moment to remember.

One day, I'll tell my children about all this, and my grandchildren. "I was there."

Merrie Monarch Preparation - Vol. 1

2006-03-28T03:21:00.000-06:00

This is a sprinting period--very little time for deep reflection, and no time at all to strive for eloquence. The short-term goal is a monstrous vacuum.

The Merrie Monarch Festival competition is only two weeks away. I have learned so much about myself, grown so much through the preparations.

I'll be exhausted by the time it's all over, and then I can settle into catching up with life. There are so many things to enjoy, but I have not the resources to focus on them: Spring, Easter, all the home improvements we've made, M & the kids....

I haven't even been able to properly chronicle the process of preparing for the competition. It's been a whirlwind of effort, organization, trial and error. I tell myself, "Someday, I'll write about it the way it should be written," but I highly doubt I'll ever be deeply seated enough in my recollections to record all the changes and lessons and challenges and exhilarations of it all.

The best I can do is gather a few photos and hope I remember the details.

Cousin, A., & Tia making cornhusk kûpe'e for wrists & ankles

Hâlau Hula Ho'ola Ka Mana O Hawai'i,
practice in the park

Tia, Cousin, & A. making leis

Merrie Monarch Photo Day
Cousin, Tia, A., Ilima, Hina, & Kehau

Hâlau Hula Ho'ola Ka Mana O Hawai'i
Merrie Monarch Festival 2006 participants

Tia, Cousin, & A.

A. with Kumu Hula Keli'i Chang

Costume Sewing Day
Cousin, Tia, & Hina

Sewing stations in the rec. room

The kâne hard at work

More cornhusk kûpe'e making

Ho'okahi Hua'ôlelo...One Word

2006-03-24T01:57:00.000-06:00

I've always thrived under pressure. My theory is many perfectionists require it.

But it's easier to face pressure as a child, I believe. The prospect of failure didn't scare me. Trophies meant nothing, or state standing, or titles, or a picture in the paper. What did scare me was the possibility I might disappoint Dad. But to be perfectly honest, that rarely happened. Competition was no big deal. I was in my element, and I performed exactly as I was taught. I had the security of years behind me and constant accessibility to the master.

But now, as an adult, as a child in hula, as a "foreigner," I have no such security. And the fear of disappointing the master looms over me like a great black cloud.

I've pushed myself almost to my limit. I've done my best to hone myself to the image of a seasoned dancer. I've focused entirely on perfecting myself, preparing myself to face the heart of the Hawaiian community, and still, I am not half as secure as I was on my most uncertain day in martial arts.

But the hula I've learned have become a part of me. The mele and the dances and the stories behind them are my own now, and I feel as if all of these are singing through me, pressing against the walls of my spirit, desperate to be released to life on stage.

Kumu said, "When you dance, you become another person." I feel that, waiting to break forth when the first note is sung.

This may be the only opportunity I have in my entire lifetime here on Earth to speak to the Hawaiian people. What shall I say?

I love this people. I love this dance and this music, with all my heart. Hula is a garden of heaven, and I am utterly alive and free. 'Auhea 'oe, e Ka Poe o Hawai'i ê! Hîmeni ka'u pu'uwai! My heart sings!