Posted on: Sunday, August 8, 2004

By Lee Cataluna
Advertiser Columnist

Obon season in Hawai'i means paper lanterns swaying in the warm summer night, the burnt shoyu smell of teriyaki on a stick and politicians in dress slacks and hapi coats taking their turns in the circle, being careful to be seen without appearing as though they're there to be seen.

It's a complicated dance. We expect our politicians to "show face" at community events, but when they do, we don't like them to look like they're "only acking."

When the event requires the seemingly incongruous mix of revelry and reverence that bon dances do, politicians have to keep that balance in mind as well. Can't be too silly. Can't be too stiff.

But the worst thing is to not be there at all.

So what are the rules of engagement?

1. It's not about campaigning.

Well, of course it's about campaigning, but you're not supposed to ever say that.

"I'm not there to politic. That's not the central theme," says Honolulu mayoral candidate Duke Bainum. "The purpose is to have fun and meet people and show respect. It's always very congenial. You see politicians now and then, but you kind of leave your political hat at the door."

"I go every year, whether I'm campaigning or not," says mayoral candidate Mufi Hannemann. "I just really enjoy it."

"My family and I greatly appreciate bon dances," says Mike Gabbard, a Republican candidate for Congress. "My wife, Carol, and I have been to a few, but have kept a very low profile because we didn't feel it was an appropriate venue for campaigning."

Gabbard relays the story about the origins of the bon dance: A disciple of Buddha had a dream that his mother was suffering in death because of her greed during life. Following Buddha's advice, the disciple made an offering to the spirit and her suffering ended. The disciple danced with joy.

"Unfortunately, most people in our community don't know that the bon dance is really an expression of compassion and the joy of seeing others relieved of their suffering," Gabbard says. "It reminds all of us that we should be motivated out of compassion to work for the well-being of others."

2. Well, it is about the campaign, but be subtle.

Ask Ed Case about bon dances and he'll write you a 1,000-word essay with poetic images from every bon dance he's ever been to on every island. The guy is really into it. He even plugs the master bon dance schedule into his congressional calendar.

"For a candidate, especially for statewide office or in districts with significant AJA populations, they are undoubtedly a greatplace to talk story with constituents, share in community life, and show respect for Hawai'i's ethnic diversity, all vital qualities for a true representative. But along the way they became something else, as we marveled at the incredible range of location, atmosphere and just feel."

"I guess the campaign is wherever there's a collection of people," Bainum says. "There's no doubt you see more politicians during an election year."

The mission is to shake as many hands as you can without making that the sole focus of the visit, which brings us to:

3. Dance a little if you can. Dance a little if you can't.

Duke Bainum has gone to practices with the Fukushima dance group to learn the steps. He says he had to get his courage up to get in the circle because he's not very good, but he tries. "You want to try your best because it's a matter of respect," he says.

His favorite dance is the Pokemon.

Mufi Hannemann was schooled in bon dance choreography by Mrs. Misao Carlson and Ralston Nagata. He's partial to the rice planting song. Ask him to sing it. He knows all the words.

Case favors the coal miner's dance. "I love watching the emphasis that the real pros put into throwing the coal over their shoulders, and I heave it, too, nowadays. I've also gotten a little braver at just going out when I don't know it at all and trying to follow along without making too much A."

4. You gotta buy the towel.

Each church hosting a bon dance usually sells a cotton towel bearing the name of the mission or hongwanji.

"You can always tell the freeloaders from the contributors because when you contribute you get the towel," Hannemann says. "It's a matter of protocol. People notice."

Lee Cataluna's column runs Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Reach her at 535-8172 or lcataluna@honoluluadvertiser.com.