Kama — known as Kahiwa to her hula family — is an anonymous player by comparison. Raised as a small-town girl in Wahiawa, she began her hula life at a neighborhood studio and then studied with the quietly proficient Holoua Stender at Kamehameha Schools. She recently walked away from a full scholarship in broadcast journalism because she decided the demands and public exposure of a TV reporting career weren't for her. Her kumu hula, Snowbird Puananiopaoakalani Bento, is as much Kama's elder sister as her teacher; they danced side by side for Ka Pa Hula O Kamehameha. Though Bento's much-debated one-point loss in the 2001 Miss Aloha Hula contest gave her some visibility, this is her first year as solo kumu hula at Merrie Monarch.

A closer look, however, reveals that Anthony and Kama have much in common with each other — and likely with the other 10 2005 Miss Aloha Hula entrants, as well.

• Both are passionate about hula.

As a child, Anthony skipped her brother's wedding on the Mainland because it would have meant missing hula practice. Later, when she tired of the rigors of competitive hula and dropped out for a while, she was visited by dreams — visions of people dancing, of herself dancing. Finally, she said, "I realized that this was not a thing I could push to the side." Hula, she said, "is my happy place."

For Kama, at age 3, hula was an imposition; she sat in the corner and cried for a month because she wanted to be out playing. But her mother persisted, and now hula carries her on a quest for spiritual and personal growth. "I am so grateful to my mom that she pushed me. This is my life. I am happiest when I am doing this," she says.

• Both believe the Miss Aloha Hula competition is not a destination but a journey.

For Anthony, it is about intensive work with her kumu. "Working with Uncle Manu, learning from him, for me, that's the best thing about Miss Aloha Hula. I get this totally fortunate, selfish time with him. He wrote this chant for me to do and he's so patient and positive. You just want to make your kumu happy."

Kama and her kumu — who has good reason to know from her own experience — call winning a mere "perk." "Winning is not the reward. These moments are the reward," said Kama, tears in her eyes, looking out over the sunlit remnants of Queen Lili'uokalani's garden at Uluhaimalama in Pauoa Valley, where she and her kumu hula had come to absorb the mana (spiritual power) of a place related to the 'auana (modern) hula Bento chose for her, "I Ku'u Pua Pauoakalani."

Punihei Anthony and kumu hula Manu Boyd practice at the University of Hawai'i-Manoa's Hawaiian studies facility.

Kaiwipunikauikawekiu Punihei Anthony Nickname: Puni Age: 22 Parent: Lilikala Kame'eleihiwa Hometown: Kane'ohe Schooling: Punana Leo, Kamehameha High School Currently: Senior, University of Hawai'i, Hawaiian studies major Halau: Halau O Ke A'ali'i Ku Makani, kumu hula Manu Boyd Hula: Began hula at age 10 with Halau Hula 'O Kawaili'ula, kumu hula Chinky Mahoe; won Miss Keiki Hula 1995 Aspiration: To become a counselor for Hawaiian youth

Anthony's kahiko selection grew from her own work on a Hawaiian newspaper translation project. In one newspaper, she came across a chant written in the voice of the goddess Hi'iaka to Hi'iaka's beloved companion, Hopoe — renamed in this chant Nanahuki. At the time Hi'iaka is on a mission for her powerful and jealous sister, Pele, but is missing her friend, and recalling their times together, surfing, dancing hula. "From the very first line, it's obvious, it's very apparent, the really affectionate relationship between the two. It's so sweet and I'm so girlie-girl, so sentimental, I was just really touched by it," recalled Anthony. After they discussed the chant, Boyd dashed off a chant in the old style that came to him like a gift, in just 20 minutes.

Dancers know that a strong personal connection with the story line is imperative; the dancer must inhabit the tale. But Kama at first struggled to touch the core of "I Ku'u Pua Paoakalani," a song Queen Lili'uokalani wrote while under arrest, a reference to the flowers that were delivered to her daily, wrapped in damp newspaper that kept her informed of events during the overthrow. The queen playfully employs a riddling device, describing the flowers but not naming them so that the listener has to guess which ones they are. But she also dwells on memories of her garden at Waikiki.

At Uluhaimalama, once Queen Lili'uokalani's garden, Cherish Kama and Snowbird Bento touched the spirit of Kama's 'auana selection.

• Both belong to the first generation to have grown up in a world where the Hawaiian renaissance is an established reality, and both are grateful for that.

Anthony frankly admits that she has occasionally resented the time her mother has had to spend fighting for the survival of the Hawaiian culture and language, and that she worries about how hard her mother works. "I always kind of understood the importance of what she was doing, but it was sad to see how so many in her generation almost had to neglect their families for the betterment of the Hawaiian people. Not that I was an abandoned child, but the hardest part was being selfish — wanting my mom to myself," she recalled.

Kama, too, thinks of those who went before. "I don't think of Miss Aloha Hula as a competition. I think of it as an exhibition of all that I've learned, a show for the ancestors, to tell them that we recognize all they have done for us and that we love them."

• Both accept matter-of-factly that responsibility follows on privilege.

Punihei Anthony's kahiko selection brings together an old chant and one written by her teacher Manu Boyd.

Now, she wants to get a graduate degree in counseling and work with Hawaiian young people, to help them understand the value of education and stay in school. "Since I actually made it through, despite having a lot of the same problems of money and distractions that they have, I think it's something I'd be good at."

Kama is keenly aware of the sacrifices her family is making since she gave up a full-ride scholarship to change her major to teaching. She feels the need to hurry through her schooling, "so I can start giving back."

• Both say preparing for Miss Aloha Hula has been one of growth far beyond proficiency in dance or chant.

Anthony recalled running into her friend and contemporary Lopaka Kanaka'ole, 22, great-grandson of the chanter and kumu hula for whom the Edith Kanaka'ole Stadium is named. She admitted to some nervousness and uncertainty in her preparations for Miss Aloha Hula. And right there, in Oceans nightclub, with the music blaring, he pulled her to him and whispered to her in Hawaiian assurances that her ancestors would be with her on that stage and would uphold her. "You know, when older people say that to you, it's the same old, same old — like, 'Oh yeah, mahalo for that.' But when someone in your generation says it to you it's like 'Oh, duh. That's right. It's true.' "