Ho'ike kicks off festival

Hosted by the hula family for which the Hilo stadium is named, the Kanaka'oles and their Halau 'O Kekuhi staged last night's ho'ike as a thank-you to the community for putting up with the Merrie Monarch crowds. Deborah Booker • The Honolulu Advertiser

By Wanda A. Adams
Assistant Features Editor

HILO, Hawai'i — They come from Panaewa and the Canadian provinces, from Tokyo and Tahiti.

Halau 'O Kekuhi performs for a diverse audience at the Merrie Monarch Festival ho'ike last night in Hilo. Deborah Booker • The Honolulu Advertiser

Hosted by the hula family for which the stadium is named, the Kanaka'oles and their Halau 'O Kekuhi, the event is staged as a thank you to the community for putting up with the traffic and the crowds and because so few of them are able to get tickets to the three nights of hula competition that follow.

The rest of the week, says restaurateur Beth-An Nishijima, taking a brief break from catering food for Sonny Ching's Halau Na Mamo 'O Pu'uanahulu, "Hilo people stay inside, or like me they're too busy to watch hula."

Ho'ike night gathers a widely varied audience.

Not present, ironically, are the hula schools involved in the competition. Their teachers keep them sequestered.

People who know nothing of hula come to see what the Hawaiian culture is about.

Regina Robbins and Greg Evans, who have been living in the Hilo area for about a year and plan to go back to their native Vermont soon, showed up at 3 o'clock in the afternoon because they'd been told that people stand in line to get in as early as 1 in the afternoon. (A bit of an exaggeration; 4 o'clock is more like it.) They have seen hula only once before, at a hotel lu'au, and were determined to take in the real thing before leaving the Islands.

Sarah and Robert Sloove of Alberta, Canada, had planned to be up in Volcano but stumbled across a halau ceremony in a local park earlier in the day. Sarah Sloove, who has worked with native peoples in her homeland, was so moved she wanted to see more, and they decided to linger in Hilo for the ho'ike.

Students of hula, such as members of Hilo High's Na Liko Lehua O Hilo Hanakai, come for inspiration and a break from practicing their May Day chants, according to 16-year-old Aylah Hoopi'i. "We just enjoy it," said her friend, Melissa Spalding, 16.

Auntie Irene Midel, 75, has been coming to ho'ike for 41 years for the chance to dress up in a beautiful holoku, place a garden of orchids in her hair and "to wear my jewelries" — which last night included four gold rings on one hand, four jade rings on the other, Hawaiian and Chinese bracelets halfway up each arm and a crocheted lei made by one of her seven children.

Becky Makuakane Takeya, born and raised in the Hilo area, came because she finally retired from the Hilo Parks Department and actually gets to watch hula instead of having to help clean up the place. "Now I can relax and really enjoy the dancing," she said, waving a fan in the still, warm air.

Neighbor Islanders benefit from ho'ike night, too: Joy Leo of Honolulu couldn't get tickets for the hula competition but planned a two-day trip with her friend, Shala Mata, to take in the hula show. "For me, the hula has always been representative of the divine feminine in the Hawaiian spirit. When you watch hula it's like life kundalini."

The night's entertainment was as varied as the audience: traditional hula from local hula school Halau Na Mamo O Ka'ala, Johnny Lum Ho's energetic Hilo halau and the even more energetic haka (Maori dance and chant) of Te Wharekura Kaupapa Maori a Roheo Rakaumanga.