MERRIE MONARCH DIARY

By Wanda A. Adams
Assistant Features Editor

HILO, Hawai'i — 'Auana day, awards day, the party's almost over.

All around town this morning, halau were to be seen by the vanful, buying their omiyage at Big Island Candies, picking up boxes of lei and hair adornments, loading up with takeout meals for lunch.

The mid-day meal or at most a late afternoon snack is the last most will eat before midnight; no one wants to dance on a full stomach and many are too nervous to eat anyway. Yesterday, the hotel lobbies were filled with young women in braids, curlers and various crimping devices, attempting to get their hair properly wavy before the kahiko performances, when all hair is down and free-flowing.

Today, most will submit to ministrations meant to achieve the opposite effect — smooth and gleaming up-dos accented by entire bouquets of flowers. (Next year I think I'll do a story about the transformation process for the Miss Aloha Hula candidates, who have to do it all in one evening and on a tight deadline.)

Much of Hilo spent the morning lining up for the annual Merrie Monarch parade, which is just ending as I write this. I got a glimpse of it as I went busily about the all-important business of filling family orders — a Hawaiian Force pant set for Mom, Sig Zane shorts for Brother, cookies from Big Island Candies for the office. I don't think they let you on the airplane in Hilo if you're not carrying a lavender box.

News flash: Big Island Candies has a mint-dipped cookie now: chocolate shortbread, white chocolate coating. Very 'ono. And they were sampling the chocolate almond crunch so that had to go into my carry-case, too.

If I had taken my own advice, I'd have done all these errands the very first day because the stores get slammed on the Saturday and Sunday of Merrie Monarch. It's also good to do the craft fairs on Wednesday, if you can, because they run out of the intriguing new stuff by the weekend. Last year, I had people trying to buy the hair ornament off my head because the lady who makes them ran out.

Just a few thoughts about last night's kahiko performance. The kumu hula are going wild with the costuming colors in this division (lots of red last night, too) and, in the case of materials that are supposed to represent kapa, I'm wondering how authentic this is. I know the Hawaiians could fashion a range of colors including red, yellow, black and orange shades but lavender, spring green and sky blue? Gotta research this.

My skills at handicapping this hula competition are pretty poor. I did call three of the five Miss Aloha Hula winners, but two were a surprise to me and two of my favorite candidates came in four and five instead of two and three as I expected.

The question on everyone's mind is whether anyone can unseat the wahine of Halau O Kamuela — can they take the overall prize for the sixth year in a row?

For what it's worth, my thought is that it's possible and the women to do it might just be Nani Lim Yap and Leialoha Amina of Na Lei O Kaholoku, whose halau made a strong showing and delighted an audience ready to embrace them last night. But you can't discount Uncle Ed Collier, whose Hula Halau O Na Pua Kukui demonstrated both precision and passion in both the women's and the men's divisions. Or several veterans whose work was memorable last night: Keolalaulani Halau Olapa Olaka, Halau Hula Olana, Halau Hula O Hokulani, Halau Hula 'O Kahikilaulani or Maui's Kano'au Dance Academy. Whoever wins is going to have to be perfection, because perfection is all in a day's work for Halau O Kamuela. I dont' know if the TV cameras got it, but there was a moment when they were lined up on the ramp ready to make their entrance and from my vantage point directly across the room, their bent elbows were lined up in absolutely even stair-steps right down the line. It was almost scary!

As to the kane, there was a bit of buzz about Halau I Ka Wekiu's barer than usual malo, which revealed the buttocks of the dancers, but I was pleased that those around me in the audience also paid respectful attention to the hula, which was very well performed. They're definitely players, as are the aforementioned Halau O Na Pua Kukui, O'Brian Eselu's Ke Kai O Kahiki and even the Los Angeles halau of Keali'i Ceballos, Halau Ke Ali'i O Nalani, all of whom maintained a nice precision to passion balance.

My friend Bonnie and I went over our notes afterward and decided we were very glad we weren't judging.

A couple of days ago, I had a thought while watching rehearsals that has stayed with me:

A common fault of competition-level halau wahine is precision without spirit; a common fault of halau kane is spirit without precision. Crowds react strongly to the testesterone-driven stomping kahiko and kolohe 'auana of halau kane, but the judges are looking for more. And a women's group that smiles ceaselessly and dances in perfect union may be beautiful, but, again, judges are looking for evidence that the dancers are inhabiting the story they are telling.

Chatted today with Kaiona Wagner, 48, who comes in from Maui each year for Merrie Monarch, whether she is able to score hula competition tickets or not. She is an accountant who works from her home and it's a standing week off for her, a reward for getting through tax season. (The festival always begins with a Ho'olaule'a on Easter Sunday in Hilo's Coconut Island park, with the hula competition on the Thursday, Friday and Saturday after Easter.)

"Even if Easter comes early, I tell all my clients, 'From Easter Saturday, I'm gone, so you better get your stuff in early.'"

She described her routine to me: "Saturday, I have breakfast with my sister's family on Maui to make up for being gone at Easter and then they take me to the plane and I get to Hilo Saturday night. I go to the Ho'olaule'a on Sunday — the entertainment is so good and it's free, you know. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday during the day, I go to the free hula shows in the hotels, sometimes I drive up to Mountain View and visit my girlfriend. I shop — I always buy some of my Christmas presents at the craft fairs. I go to the Ho'ike on Wednesday and Miss Aloha Hula on Thursday, because I can always get a ticket for that. And then if I didn't get tickets Friday and Saturday, I get plate lunch and I watch it on TV — the chair in the hotel mo' comfortable, yeah? Some years, my daughter comes over with me; some years I come alone. I have family here and I can always get one of the aunties or cousins to come watch with me so I'm not lonely."

Wagner took classes from the legendary kumu hula Auntie Emma Farden Sharpe for a while when she was a young girl and, though she left dancing to have her children, she remains a self-described "hula addict."

Like me. Just the sort of person for whom Merrie Monarch was designed.

Gotta go: I can hear Ke Kai O Kahiki doing an impromtu rehearsal down the hall and I gotta be niele (nosy).

A hui hou!