Wednesday, April 22, 2009

2009 Merrie Monarch Photos




These select photos and more are for sale in print and publication. If you want to order, please zip me an email at karenwelsh@hawaiistockphotosandmore.com and I will send you a secure PayPal email order form. I will be putting these and the many other photos I took from this year's competition on my website at www.karenwelsh.com
Look for them in coming days!













Follow the link, see my tweep on KGMB 9 News

I'm loving KGMB9's new 5 p.m. interactive newscast. They use @i9news to capture twitters and read live on the air. Go to http://kgmb9.com/main/content/view/16509/40/ to see their coverage of today's Big Island earthquake and see the tweet I sent in during the newscast.
They later sent me a tweet that said, and I quote, "@KGMB9@KarenWelsh Give credit where credit is due! You told us of the earthquake before USGS and I kicked it over to Guy." Awesome!

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Hula Newbie: Hula Hoop: Back in the loop again

Hula hoop: In the loop

Confessions of a hula flunky turned junkie

By KAREN WELSH
Tribune-Herald staff writer
Everyone has a love language — a need to receive words of affirmation,
gifts, quality time, acts of service and physical touch.
Hula encompasses them all.
At least that’s what I recently experienced after becoming an honorary
member of Hula Halau O’ Kawananakoa in Keaukaha.
Except for one hula performed during an elementary school May Day
program and a couple of early childhood lessons where the instructor
kept hitting the back of my calves with a stick because I couldn’t keep
my heels on the floor, I never dreamed of being more than an eager
spectator of this beautiful sport.
There’s always been a sadness deep within my being because hula is so
incredibly communicative.
And that’s me.
The talker of talk.
The writer of words.
To be left out of something so profoundly a part of the culture, so
loving an expression and, under the right circumstances an adoring gift
of worship to ke Akua, has been excruciatingly painful.
To tell the truth, this feeling has become more acute since I became
Mama Kahu of a Hawaiian church.
But no more.
After two sessions with the “tutus” at Kawananakoa Gym, I’ve found a
place go belong, a place to become — a sisterhood so tight that it
defines the term “ohana.”
These women tenderly aloha each other, touching, kissing, affirming each
other’s very existence and being.
This tight-knit sisterhood genuinely care about each other.
And me.
The halau members open every session with pule, a prayer to ke Akua,
before dancing.
Then it begins.
The hula.
It’s surprising that a novice, such as myself, can begin to pick up on
the meaning after only one time through a song.
The first mele is “Ke Anu O Waimea,” by B. Kuana Torres of Na Palapalai,
tells of the beauty of Waimea, the skin piercing wind in the shivering
cold.“I ka poli o ka ua, e honihoni ana e — In the bosom of the rain we
embrace,” the melodic song recalls. “I ke kakahiaka e moani ke ‘ala o ka
‘awapuhi ho’i e — The scent of ginger wafting in the morning.”
Each movement is precise and means something, the poetic motions telling
a story, serving a utilitarian purpose to pass on a story, a way of life.
“It’s important to study the piece,” Kumu Hula Alberta “Birdie” Nicolas
says. “You need to do your homework and have a connection to it. The
important thing is, all hula is not the same. I can be done in different
versions. Each halau can dance a different rendition to the music.”
Many special movements are gleaned throughout the songs. “Makani ‘Olu
‘Olu,” “Moku O Keawe” and “Nani Venuse” highlight the uwehi, left step,
right step, both knees flashed outward; the kaholo, three step vamp; the
Kalakaua, step, then sway forward and back; the lele, swaying back; the
ami, rotation of hips; the ami kuku, really fast rotation of hips and
the hela, a step back with one foot, then point with the other.
Not one step or move for this newbie hula dancer was possible without
the patience and instruction of Alaka’i, or assistant, Jo Ann Loa.
“Twinkle, the twinkle’s not out, the twinkle is in,” she instructs.
“Sassy, around the world, ami, front, back, double cross, up the road,
luna, pick the flowers, plenty. When you come up, no look grumpy.
“Ha’ina. One, two, three, four, back, pua malama, twinkle,” Jo Ann
guides. “Around the island, touch, face, shoulder, kapu, shoulder, kapu,
kapu, kapu, winding road, forward, crooked road, in the heavens, double
cross, plenty, twinkle, sassy.”
One lesson gleaned throughout the practice is there is a variety of
hula. A mele can be fast or slow. Gentle or tough. It can speak about
certain places in Hawaii, the weather, a battle waged or, my favorite,
the romance often expressed between two lovers.
Every verse, each idea, is always conveyed twice, probably because the
message is worth repeating.
As one song melds into another, one this is easily deduced — hula is
hard work. It’s also great exercise. Sweat pours from the back of my
neck and trickles down my back. I’m happy to make it through the dance
without collapsing, but the wahine, all older than I, are eager to
practice it “one more time.”
Right about now I’m short of breath and not keeping up with the aunties
is quite embarrassing.
However their encouragement brings a smile to my face.
“We cannot shake it,” Birdie jokes. “We just put WD40 here and oil there
and keep moving.”
Birdie also reminds me that many of them have been dancing together
since they were seven years old.
That’s a long time.
“For me, hula is a part of our culture,” Birdie says. “We’ve learned it
from small. It’s our communication. We are expressing our love for the art.”
I’m hanging in there, still in the groove, soaking in the hula like a
dry sponge.
Then they go to a “hapa haole” song called “Surfing With The Dolphins.”
This auana, or modern-day hula mixes traditional hula moves with country
line dancing.
Halfway through the song I collapse on the cold linoleum floor — to
tired to shake another step out of my weary, aching body.
Luckily it’s time for a break anyway. The halau has some business to
attend. Birthdays to celebrate. Competitions for Aloha Week and the
Hawaii Kupuna festivals to plan. Crafts to make. Service projects to finish.
They do everything together. It’s as if one heart is beating for them,
the heart of hula.
That’s probably why the halau members keep coming back for more.
“I love everything about this halau,” said dancer Lorraine Veincent.
“Over here everybody helps everybody. No one is better than the other.
We are all just one.”
That’s what makes hula special.
“A halau is typically known as a family activity,” Birdie says. “It’s
close-knit. Everyone participates. It’s a bond.
It’s not just one thing,” Birdie reminds. “It’s a culture. We have a lot
of skills and abilities that we share with other. We have a lot of
talent to offer each other. We’re not stagnant.”
The practice is over and, auwe, the pain sets in with shin splints and
cramps. I’m glad Birdie took the time to teach me one final step — the
massage technique to relieve aching arm and leg muscles.
“And they say hula is easy,” she laughs. “Not!”
Reflecting back, it’s nice to be in the hula hoop. After all, they speak
my language and I’m loving every moment of it.
I just wish my feet felt the same way.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

April 15 Big Island Weekly Cover

http://digital.bigislandweekly.com
Go to "replica edition" box
You are going to have to sign in (it's free) to view. Best I can do until I figure out how to insert a PDF into this blog site!

Friday, April 10, 2009

Merrie Monarch: Sista Act Kumu Hula Napua Greig & Kahulumealani Maluo-Huber

Pa'i Award-winning article

Sista Act 2: Back in the lineup again

Former Miss Hula Aloha contestants bring halau back to festival

By Karen Welsh

Originally written in 2004 For the Tribune-Herald

Copyright

All Rights Reserved

No Reprints Allowed

Birds flutter through Hilo's open-air Edith Kanaka'ole Tennis Stadium, matching, beat for beat, the busy hands of the dancing Halau Na Lei Kaumaka O Uka.

Never mind this group of 23 young women and two kumu hula had to get up at the crack of dawn on the first day of spring break to catch a plane from Maui. Forget the bumpy ride from the nasty weather pattern hanging stubbornly over the island chain.

Don't mention that lunch was missed in the busyness of the moment or the fact the girls are wet from the torrential rains hastily dodged trying to get into the stadium.

It simply doesn't matter. They are smiling. Happy. Poetry in motion. Nothing can dampen their spirits today because they are thrilled to be dancing on the official Merrie Monarch stage.

Their shirts say it all. These girls are "hula built" and they are relishing every moment of preparing for their very first Merrie Monarch performances.

"This is so exciting," said 21-year-old Orama Brault, a dancer with the halau for eight years. "We never thought we'd be on this stage. When the halau started we'd come every year to the festival and dream about it. Now we're actually here. It's so great. It's so awesome. I would practice all day. I can't get enough of this stage."

The women practice long hours and push themselves hard, hanging on every word of kumu hula sisters Jaye "Napua" Greig and Patty "Kahulumealani" Maluo-Huber, both former Miss Aloha Hula contestants and performers at past Merrie Monarch festivals.

"It's all about respect," said 18-year-old Emily Spenser, who flew home from the University of San Diego to participate in the rehearsals. "They are our role models."

It's been a longer road back to the festival for Kahulumealani, first runner-up in the 1990 Miss Aloha Hula competition and Napua, second runner-up in 1992.

Both moved to Hilo a couple of years apart in the late 1980s to attend the University of Hawaii's Big Island campus.

Kahulumealani arrived first. She immediately began taking lessons from kumu hula Ray Fonseca's Halau Hula O Kahili Laulani. She felt it a great honor when Uncle Ray asked her to dance in the competition.

"It was a world-stopping experience," Kahulumealani remembers. "Personally I stopped everything, gave up college and gave it my all."

Napua followed in her big sister's footsteps only two years later. She had joined Johnny Lum Ho's Halau O Ka Ua Kani Lehua and was soon asked to dance in the solo competition.

"It helped me to be a lot more confident," she said. "To dance in front of all those people by myself."

Both sisters eventually moved back to Maui and opened their own halau in 1996. Over the years it has grown from 30 to 125 members, ranging in age from four to 44 years old.

In their classes they teach that although hula is comparible to a sport it is also something deeply spiritual and cultural. And, both sister's stress hula is something the dancers have to prepare for before coming to the halau.

"We connect with hula on many different levels," Napua said. "Spiritually, emotionally and intellectually. You can see right through this dance and if their life isn't in order they just don't dance well."

Six years ago Napua and Kuhulumealani started bringing a select group of dancers from their halau to watch the Merrie Monarch Festival. Then, they began to dream.

"We would talk about our experiences and the hard work it took to get there," Napua said. "The determination and the sacrifice it took to get up on that stage."

Finally the sister's felt their class of young women were ready for the challenge and committment and put their name on the waiting list.

Everyone was blown away when festival officials notified the kumu sisters and they began working on their program in August.

"The girls have been wanting to do it forever," Napua said. "When we told them they were excited. They're hard working kids. They apply themselves."

Now they have returned for the sole purpose of doing their best in the competition, and the two sister's find the rainy Hilo climate a welcoming sight.

"It's good to come back to Hilo," Napua says. "Everytime I step off the plane to Hilo I am energized. It feels good to come back to Hilo. It's really good."

Despite the distractions of landing planes, loud rain, squawking birds and noisy traffic surrounding the stadium, the halau remains committed to the art, determined to be precise and focused completely on the two kumu sisters.

"You guys have got to overcome the noise," Napua tells her students. "You guys have got to bring it. You've got to belong."

Napua, the more outgoing personality of the two sisters, chants and sings and she either plays the ipu for the oli or the ukulele for the mele.

Reciting the living history of her ancestors is second nature to the seasoned performer.

"It's easy if you understand the language becasue it's like a story," Napua said. "It's history and you know what comes next."

The young women provide the interpretation, and whether it's facial expressions, hand movements, their ka'o or 'uwehe, every little nuance of the hula is under the watchful eyes of the sisters during the rehearsal.

Tirelessly they practice the kahiko and auana again and again. Their voices echo, their feet thud on the hollow wooden stage floor. None complain when they are asked to do it "one more time, please."

"Wit da attitude and everything dis time," Kahulumealani asks.

This is serious business, an expensive field trip to make sure the girls are comfortable on stage and they are dancing each step with pinpoint precision.

"You've got to make this stage your home," Napua reminds the group. "We're here so that when you walk on the stage it will be like you've done it a million times. You guys can be the best dancers in the whole world, but it's not going to do you nothing if you're scared. If you're scared people aren't gonna watch cause they are uncomfortable. You need to relax so the audience can enjoy it."

"When you walk up that ramp you've got to command everyone's attention," Kahulumealani adds. "You need to have that intense, eager face when walking up on the stage. You need to exude confidence."

Napua also reminds the women that first impressions are the most important.

You are the newcomers on the block," she stresses to the eager onlookers. "You've got to make the audience sit up and pay attention. That's your goal."

Merrie Monarch: Feature on Kumu Hula Snowbird Bento

Ho'okani O' Snowbird

Nani wahine o' ka lani. (Beautiful woman of the sky)

Ikaika wahine o' ka makani. (Strong woman of the wind)

Lawe 'eheu, ho'i mai (Take wing, come back)

Ho'okani. Ho'okani! (Make sounds of music, sing!)

By Karen Welsh

Orginally Written in 2005 for the Hawaii Tribune-Herald

Copyright

All Rights Reserved

No Reprints Allowed

There is a split second in every person's life when the breeze blows, turning everything in a new direction. The winds changes and that person knows it is time to spread their wings and fly. That moment has come for 29-year-old Kumu Hula Snowbird Bento.

Normally this Nanakuli Homestead resident is hard to catch. She is usually too busy flying from one thing to the next.

This week is a different story. She'll be roosting at the 42nd Annual Merrie Monarch Festival in Hilo, where this young alaka'i of halau "Ka Pa Hula O Ka Lei Lehua" from Honolulu, Hawaii is bringing both kane and wahine dancers and a Miss Aloha Hulu contestant for their first performance at the world-renowned competition.

"I'm kind of one of those really newbies that has to pay their dues," Snowbird said. "It's a big undertaking, but I'm so thankful for the opportunity."

Although this 1993 Kamehameha School graduate is leading a halau of newcomers into the hula competition, she is no stranger to dancing on the Merrie Monarch stage.

Snowbird performed in both 2001 and 2002 with "Ka Pa Hula O' Kamehameha," under the direction of Kumu Hula Holoua Stender.

She was also a first runner up in the Miss Aloha Hula contestant in 2001. Those past experiences have given Snowbird an intuitive knowledge about the oli and hula selections for her halau. This single wahine also wrote some of her own material, including the oli and mele for Miss Aloha Hula's kahiko, "Ku Kani Loko," the mele for the boys kahiko mele and the ka'i entrance and ho'i exit dances for the auana.

For the kahiko program, the women will oli "Na Kau a Hi-iakaika," a chant about Pele's younger sister. They will then perform the hula "He melo no Kukaniloko," a mele telling of the sacredness of the royal birthing place "Lo Ali'i" on Oahu.

"The contents of the hula dates back to the 11th Century," Snowbird said. "It was a place for high ranking chiefs to be born on Oahu. We are bringing the story of that place and the function forward."

The men will dance the hula kahiko "Na Ali'i o 'Ewa," a song describing the often overlooked legacy of the chiefs from the Ewa, Oahu plains.

"Oahu has such a strong, history culturally," Snowbird said. "It is full and rich. I just wanted to bring their names and stories brought into the 21st Century and bring their mana and history to our people. I don't want their great deeds and history to be lost to the next generation and that will happen if we don't tell them."

For the auana, the wahine will tell the story of aloha through the hula "Ku'uipo Onaona," and the kane will bring to the stage, "Kaua I Ka Huahua'i," a mele of forbidden love composed by Leleiohoku.

Snowbird chose 21-year-old Cherish Kahiwiokalani Kama as the halau's 2005 Miss Aloha Hula Contestant. For her kahiko hula, "Kahiwi" will dance to the chant, "He mele no Kulaniloko," telling of the sacredness of the Ali'i birthing place. Her auana dance, "Ku'u Pua I Paoakalani," will tell of a gentle breeze coming down from Manoa to Paoakalani's home in Waikiki.

Kahiwi is thrilled about coming to the Merrie Monarch Festival with her kumu hula.

"It's going to be a tremendous experience with Snow," she said. "Snowbird is wonderful. She's nice and a lot of fun, but we also learn a lot about Hawaiian culture. We learn that everyday is a work in progress and it is important to learn something new everyday."

This festival will be an exciting time for Snowbird too, and in many ways her flight to the Big Island is a return to home. It was the 'ainahanau, the birthplace of her father. He was born and raised in Hilo until he was 6 years old before making a permanent move to Pauoa, Oahu.

It was only one decade ago when Snowbird first visited the Big Island. She was only 19-years-old, but that was old enough for the young hula dancer to realize the many ohana connections living in East Hawaii.

Those family ties were important for Snowbird to establish because ohana, Hawaiian history, culture music and hula have been the top priorities throughout her life.

Her love for music and vocals started at a young age. Her mother, Sterline Bento, seemed to bless her from the beginning with the unusual name "Snowbird," taken from one of Anne Murray's popular songs from the 1970s.

The close-knit family also made sure Snowbird was always surrounded by music. Her parents were always singing and playing the ukulele.

"Sometimes we would just sing to sing," she said. ""I had a lot of music and hula in my life."

Snowbird's mother was also a professional hula dancer, but it was her paternal grandmother, Carol Bento, who taught Snowbird her very first dance "He U 'I," meaning "Beauty" when Snowbird was only three years old.

That was the one and only hula I knew until I joined my first halau at nine-years-old," she said. "My grandmother really opened my eyes to music."

It turned out her family was also great storytellers and Snowbird gave them her full attention.


"As a teenager I didn't care about all the glitz and glamour," she said. "I would rather listen to the kupuna tell their stories."

Everything about native Hawai'i inspired Snowbird. Her first halau, where she attended from age 9 to 12, was "Keali'i Ka'apunihonua Ke'ena A'o Hula," under the direction of Leimomi Ho. She took a couple of years off from hula, before joining "Ka Pa Hula O' Kamehameha" when she was 14 years old.

In her heart, Snowbird always knew hula and Hawaiian culture would be her life and someday she would open a halau. The twenty-something dancer always thought she would be around 35 or 40 years old before venturing out on her own.

However, in a moment's time a new journey started in June 2003, when Kumu Holoua approached Snowbird and her hula brother, Kaleo Trinidad, and asked them to take over the halau while he took a year off.

After the year was over, Kumu Holoua told her it was time for Snowbird to take over his halau. It was then Snowbird realized it was time to create and build her own nest.

"He gave me his blessing to start my own halau," Snowbird remembered. "I renamed the halau 'Ka Pa Hula O' Kalei Lehua.' It means the hula enclosure of the lei."

Kumu Hula Snowbird has taken her position very seriously. She knows a kumu is looked upon as a source of knowledge.

Do I know everything?," she said. "Far from it, but I think I'm learning more now because I have the responsibility."

This newfound leadership role has led Snowbird to set a few goals coming into her first Merrie Monarch Festival.

First, Snowbird said it is her kuliana or business throughout the festival to honor all the elder kupuna and kumu or teachers who have poured themselves into her life, whether from school, family or friends.

"It's important that we don't forget that people came before us," she said. "They are the path that we walk, the shoulders we rely on, the foundation on which we build respect and aloha."

Snowbird said she also wants to honor her kumu hula.

"I want please my kumu because he gave me so much," she said. "He gave me my 'uniki and my Kihei, an overlaying garment likened to a diploma at graduation."

Kumu Hula Holoua is confident his former student is ready to take on the challenge.

"I think she is more than ready for the Merrie Monarch Festival," he said. "She's a great person. She has worked very hard and I am very, very proud of her. It's so nice to see her grow up and fly away. Hopefully she will fly high and far."

The young kumu also desirous that her students to dance to the best of their ability during the competition. She wants those in her charge to walk away from their week in Hilo and know it wasn't about winning, but about the journey and the lessons learned.

"I want to put out the best possible performance that the students and I, at this point in our lives, are capable of giving," Snowbird said. "That's how we will be satisfied. We can't disappoint if we did our 150 percent. Even if we don't place, we can still hold our heads up high."

Lastly, Snowbird wants to do well for her ohana.

"Doing well for myself is doing well for my family," she said. "It just doesn't get any better than that. If I didn't have my family I wouldn't have anything, I wouldn't be the person I am today. If hula is my life, then my family is the air that I breathe because I can't do any of this without them.

"They are the first part of my foundation. They have taught me to stay humble, do well, but not to boast about what I do," Snowbird recalled. "They taught me to put my hands to something and work and do the best I can, even if no one will see it or appreciate it."

Whatever the outcome of this year's festival, Snowbird is apt to remember the advice she has given to her students -- to remember it's the journey, not the destination that counts.

"My favorite motto is 'Maika'i ke kalo i ka'oha,'" she said. "That means 'you can tell the good quality of the taro by the shoots.' I learned that at Kamehameha School when I was 15 years old and it has stuck with me ever since. The things that I do, the actions I take, the things I say and the way I interact with other people is what I'll be known for. Hopefully my works are good and true because that means my family raised me well."

Merrie Monarch: Unforgettable Interview with Auntie Dottie Thompson and Luanna Kawelu

All in the ohana

Mother-Daughter team an unstoppable force

By Karen Welsh

Written in 2005 for the Hawaii Tribune-Herald
Copyright
All Rights Reserved
Do Not Reprint

A vacuum cleaner hums outside the Merrie Monarch Festival Headquarters, located on the second floor of the Naniloa Hotel on Bayfront Drive in Hilo.

Inside the cluttered two-room suite, Director Dorothy "Auntie Dottie" Thompson, age 84, sits at her desk, writing a thank you letter.

Surrounding this warm veteran of hula are dry-erase boards filled with handwritten names of kumu hula, halaus and times they are scheduled to practice on the stage for the 42nd Annual Merrie Monarch Festival. Long boxes of posters made by local artist Nelson Makua are stacked by one of the three desks already competing for precious space in the small office.

The other room is filled with dozens of boxes. Inside are 4,000 specially made t-shirts. Three tourists stand at the open door trying to make a purchase. Every nook and cranny is filled and the rooms crowded, but somehow the intimate space is open and inviting

For 37 years that is exactly the way Auntie Dottie, a name synonymous with the competition, has wanted her office and festival run while she's been at the helm. To her Merrie Monarch is not a festival unless the atmosphere is warm and homespun, heaped with a small town feeling of aloha.

Day after day Auntie Dottie organizes this world re-known hula competition. She uses a simple spiral notebook with all the plans and arrangements needed for the popular event.

And, year after year the Merrie Monarch Festival becomes more popular, with more than 4,500 people arriving from all over the world come to enjoy the hula competition held at the Edith Kanaka’ole Tennis Stadium in Hilo.

With the celebration of Hawaiian culture starting it would be easy to assume it is a period of stress. Strangely, however, Auntie Dottie is relaxed..

"This is a gliding time for me," she said. "We work year around and try to get everything done before the last two weeks. We do everything that can be done prior to the Merrie Monarch Festival. Otherwise, we could not swing it."

Don’t be fooled, this keeper of hula tradition said it takes a full year to prepare for the next event, but she has developed a routine that has worked well in the many years she has directed the competition.

There is no rest for Auntie Dottie. A couple weeks after the festival is finished, she spends time writing the top halaus from the previous competition to see if they are planning to return.

This matron of the festival also informs the bottom four bottom scoring groups that she is dropping them to make way for others waiting on the list to perform.

Preparation is also made for the first meeting in September, when Auntie Dottie has a meeting with all the kumu hulas and former judges to allow everyone to critique the past year. This gives the hula masters a voice and a chance to question both the Merrie Monarch officials and those who gave them their scores.

This particular meeting is also a time when Merrie Monarch office worker Daisy Komohai allows the halaus to preorder their t-shirts for the following year. Many use the colorful shirts as fundraisers. This year Komohai ordered 4,000 shirts.

Then it is time to order the gifts they give to all the kumu hula and judges, before the office is busy, once again, making arrangements for a second meeting in December. This is a critical time when all the kumu hulas are expected to give the Merrie Monarch officials the names and descriptions of their songs for the upcoming booklet.

The staff takes the time at every meeting to stress the importance of the rules, the judge’s score sheets and give important timelines and deadlines to the leaders.

"We emphasize how important it is to give us the information we need by a certain date," Auntie Dottie said. "They have to give us their songs by December 31, buy tickets for their supporters by January 2 and give us all the pictures of the kumu hula, kane and wahine dancers and Miss Aloha. We can’t emphasize enough how important that is."

Auntie Dottie’s work could not be accomplished alone. Besides Komohai, all of Auntie Dottie’s organizational chores are completed with the help of George DeMello, Francis Saiki and Eva Hirano.

Most important is the work of her daughter, 65-year-old Luana Kawelu, the heir apparent to take her mother’s place as the festival director someday. But, it isn’t always an easy task to please a mother.

"I’m still earning my stripes," Luana said of the 26 years she has worked for Merrie Monarch. "I’m still in training. My mom still rules this with an iron fist and a raised eyebrow."

Luana is willing to do whatever it takes to make the festival a success. On this day she is huddled at a table at the tennis stadium. Even though it is only a few blocks from the main headquarters, it is a world apart, as Luana spends many long hours in the open air making sure everything associated with the physical competition runs smoothly.

Not everything goes as planned. On this particular day, Luana is finally persuaded to go to the doctor for a nagging sore throat and chest congestion. It’s a task that needed to be done more than a week ago, but the faithful daughter simply didn’t have the time.

She has already been to her day job visiting Hilo Intermediate and High School students as a community facilitator with the Queen Lilio'kulani Children’s Center. She has worked there for 35 years.

After her rounds, Luana heads back to the stadium to greet a halau that is scheduled to practice and set up another batch of the more than 1,000 chairs needed for the audience.

She then goes back to various schools in the afternoon to check on more keiki before returning for yet another halau practice.

In the evenings, Luana heads to Keaukaha where she directs recreation and tutoring programs for the children in the community.

Each day is more of the same, affording Luana very little time to sleep. As the festival nears, she has to take vacation time at the center in order to spend most of her waking hours at the stadium. She often arrives between 4:30 a.m. to 6 a.m. and stays until midnight.

During that time Luana coordinates each halau’s rehearsals, making sure each group has a fair amount of time to practice.

She also meets with the ushers, helps the Royal Court practice, meets with the fire inspector to make sure all the chairs are spaced properly, coordinates with the decorators, security guards, cooks, sound people, television crews, telephone company, concession personnel, t-shirt vendors, kitchen people, meet with reporters, makes a namelist for nametags and makes sure all the dressing rooms are ready for each halau.

"You know it’s not the big things I worry about," Luana said. "It’s the small things. If you don’t deal with them it’s disastrous. It’s the leis, food, telephone lines, prizes, the piano, sound system, bass and the back-up generator. It’s all those details. If you don’t tend to them early you’re in trouble."

In all the years since she started helping, Luana has never seen the Merrie Monarch Parade or any of the other festivities going on around Hilo. She is too busy working.

This akamai gal knows she can’t do everything herself, however, and is thankful for the help of the Ho’olulu Complex Supervisor Paul Moffett and his crew. She said each year they clean out the dressing rooms and buff the floors.

She is also grateful for the state workers who go out into the fields to get the Ohia Trees needed for decorations.

Mostly, however, Luana depends upon her friend, Benjamin Spalding, who has selflessly helped her every year.

"He’s my right arm," she said. "He does anything and everything."

This includes peeling the old labels off the metal folding chairs, scrubbing the backs of the chairs and putting new labels on.

"What Luana does, I do," Benjamin said. "I help because Luana and her mom are good people."

All of the planning and effort that goes into the Merrie Monarch Festival is a labor of love for the mother-daughter duo.

Although people have offered a lot of money and have been "chomping at the bit" to commercialize the competition, the women plan to keep it local.

"I've tried to imitate Kalakaua," Auntie Dottie said. "And keep all things Hawaiian."

Her daughter agrees.

"We want to keep it homegrown," Luana said. "It’s a warm environment when we share the Hawaiian culture and aloha. We aloha the halaus. It’s always been my mother’s desire to make just enough money to start the next year. My mother has done it a certain way for many years and its been a success. She has given her blood, sweat, tears and heart to this festival. This is my mom’s legacy and I want to carry on. Why would I want to change it?"

Merrie Monarch: Founder Uncle George Naope

Uncle George on George

By KAREN WELSH
Originally Published in the Hawaii Tribune-Herald
Copyright
All Rights Reserved
No Reprints Allowed

Uncle George Lanakilakeikiahiali‘i Na‘ope is a living legend.
Although ailing now, he's still bigger than life in the hula culture, founder of
the world’s most prestigious hula competition.
A man of seemingly endless energy, Na‘ope has been at the center of many
activities.
In recent years, Uncle George put his stamp of approval on Humu Mo‘olelo, a befittingly bright and colorful subscriber-based magazine dedicated to the preservation and archiving of hula.
“This is one of the exciting things I wanted to do,” Na‘ope said.
“Sharing my culture with others. The more I can do, the happier I feel.
The more I can share makes me feel good. My heart is love for Hawaii and
our culture and respect for all things Hawaiian.”
Na‘ope said the hula journal’s name has great meaning. “Humu” stands for
the stitching of a quilt, the binding needed to bring the patches
together, he said, and “mo‘oleho” is the story of hula.
Each magazine features a highly respected kumu.
The first to grace its pages, of course, is Na‘ope.
Launching the magazine wasn't easy. Na‘ope relied on a
close-knit group of friends and ohana.
“So far we’ve all paid for all the expenses out of our own pockets,”
said Humu Mo‘olelo co-publisher Chelle Shand. “We’ve done whatever we
could to keep it going.”
As it builds in success, Shand said part of the proceeds will go to
building a center and museum for hula.
“All God gave us was aloha and love, and all we want to do is share it,”
Na‘ope said. “Hula is aloha. Hula is sharing. The center will be a place
to study the Hawaiian culture and language. A place for people to record
their stories. A part of what we are trying to do is to support the
growth of hula.”
Shand is hoping the new center will facilitate the building a larger
arena for the Merrie Monarch Festival.
After all, the yearly competition is Na‘ope’s first love. As
with everything, Uncle George has his own ideas about the festival’s future. He
feels strongly that Merrie Monarch needs to stay non-profit, and remain
in East Hawaii.
“They’ve tried so many times to move it to Honolulu and we said ‘no,’”
he said. “The Merrie Monarch is our festival. Hilo has become the home
of hula. It was reborn here. Hilo is hula town. There are many hula
festivals in the world now, but Merrie Monarch is the only non-profit.
Merrie Monarch gets no grants, no nothing from anybody. We’ve gotten no
money from day one and it should stay that way. Merrie Monarch is a
self-supporting organization.”
Although Na‘ope believes the festival is going well, he said some of the
technical aspects are lacking.
“Right now they really need to get back and polish it,” he said. “They
need to polish the basic hula steps, the "feel" movements. For example, in
the uwehi, the women often bring their knees out instead of up.”
However, Na‘ope is quick to remind that his manao, or wisdom, is meant
to keep hula going in its purest form.
“I scold because I love them,” he said. “I love Hawaii. I love my
culture and I want hula to be as close as possible to the authenticity
to the story.”
Na‘ope is looking forward to this year’s competition, mainly because he
isn’t responsible for deciding the winners.
“There’s more losers than winners in every competition,” he said. “I
don’t judge. I love everybody — every halau that dances. The hula is the
ability to interpret one’s own inner feelings. Everybody has their own
style. Students reflect their teachers. They’re not wrong, they are
right in their own way.”
Na‘ope feels the day will never come when international halaus are
allowed to compete.
“There are other festivals that are open to the world where they can
perform,” he said. “Merrie Monarch is for our people because education
begins at home and we don’t want anyone taking it away from us. The
competition is for those who are born or live in Hawaii.”
Na‘ope warns that locals need to take their culture as seriously as the
Japanese. He said the Japanese will be formidable opponents in any hula
competition they are allowed to enter, mainly because they are
disciplined and passionate about performing their best.
“The Japanese are very good,” he said. “They will probably win because
they go home and practice. The Hawaiians go home, drink beer and watch
TV. That’s the truth.”
Subscriptions to Humu Mo‘olelo are $56 a year, $106 for two years. It
will also be available through a very select group of shops and bookstores.

Merrie Monarch: Meet Kumu Hula Glenn Kelena Vasconcellos


Kumu Hula Glenn Kelena Vasconcellos' of Halau O Ke Anuenue
Originally Published in the Hawaii Tribune-Herald
By Karen Welsh
Copyright
All Rights Reserved

Something tells me there wouldn't be anything left if the heart was taken out of kumu hula Glenn Kelena Vasconcellos.

The leader of Hilo's own Halau O Ke Anuenue is truly all heart and it's beating as warmly as an ipo during kahiko.

Glenn's going to blush. He wouldn't want me gushing on and on. But it's true. This 58-year-old Hilo native is a giver.

Not only is his halau the only one from the Big Island competing in the Merrie Monarch Festival this week, but he's busy fixing the dancers' hair and makeup, the royal court's hair, sewing last-minute alterations and making lei for his dancers.

He does everything.

"I don't know how to say 'no' to a lot of things," Glenn admitted. "This is what I do."

Not to brag, but the public sees only what Glenn wants them to see -- the end product -- which is always beauty, softness, gentleness and grace exemplified.

They don't see the hard work poured into every fine detail. The hours and hours of endless toil it takes to make it onto the Merrie Monarch stage.

This may be an overlooked fact, but couple it with the reality that Glenn has a day job, too. He's a hairdresser at Shearz in Hilo.

Glenn is really good at his job, and that means he has a strong clientele, making him a busy man.

But, he loves it all and wouldn't change a thing in his life.

"For me, I consider it a break from each other," Glenn said. "I have a genuine love for both. I get up in the morning and I come to the salon because I like to come here. Then, I go to the halau because I like going there. They are an escape from each other."

And, from each he draws an unique energy and strength -- hair styling, because Glenn likes to make people beautiful, and hula because it's been with him since he was a little child, watching his Auntie Katherine Kimi Bator teach in Hilo.

"I absorbed it from her," Glenn said. "I watched her and then I would get up and dance. I was also secretly doing the hula at home when no one was watching, although I was never a stage performer."

Not one who needed the spotlight, Glenn has given of himself freely and has helped to shape members of halau since 1973, when he started a hula group at his grandpa's home, dancing on the patio or in the garage.

The halau competes faithfully each year in the Merrie Monarch Festival, sometimes the only one representing the Big Island, but Glenn said they do it because they glean a lot from the process.

"We learn more every year and we enjoy it," he said. "We've carved our own bamboo stamps and the girls have stamped their own skirts. They've made their own feather lei. All these things we've learned we can pass on to others."

There's only one week out of the year when Glenn can't be found on his beloved Big Island. That's when he heads to Las Vegas for some much deserved rest and relaxation.

"I love it," he said. "It's the one place I can go to get away from everything. I have so much fun. I go with friends and we have routines and schedules to follow. They can shop and so can I."

But then he returns to his extended ohana, halau and work, all of which he enjoys, enriching the lives of all those he comes in contact.

To a man who's given so much to East Hawaii, it is a pleasure to say a huge mahalo for all he does in our community, especially this week. Me ke aloha pumehana, Glenn!

Karen Welsh's column, about the interesting people she meets all around the Big Island, appears Wednesdays. She can be reached via e-mail at karenwelsh@hawaiistock-photosandmore.com.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Karen on The Andy Bumatai Show

Aloha Everyone,

I had a great time on The Andy Bumatai Show (http://theandybumataishow.com). @AndyBumatai was an awesome host. Please feel free to click on the links below (Part 1 & Part 2) to watch the clips on demand! I'm giving photo tips and showing some of my photography. I hope he invites me back because I have many tips I did not share!
@KarenWelsh

Part1

http://www.mogulus.com/theandybumataishow/ondemand/flv_b11bbae1-8275-4daa-9c18-8c80fa37dd90?initthumburl=http://mogulus-user-files.s3.amazonaws.com/chv2theandybumataishow/2009/04/08/b11bbae1-8275-4daa-9c18-8c80fa37dd90_200.jpg&playeraspectwidth=4&playeraspectheight=3

Part 2:

http://www.mogulus.com/theandybumataishow/ondemand/flv_55edc9bb-0324-424a-ad0f-19d6d08c2e7b?initthumburl=http://mogulus-user-files.s3.amazonaws.com/chv2theandybumataishow/2009/04/08/55edc9bb-0324-424a-ad0f-19d6d08c2e7b_290.jpg&playeraspectwidth=4&playeraspectheight=3


KGB & Me


I sat next to this 50-something-year-old junkie drunkie psychopath (see pic...BTW, he gives a new meaning to the phrase "TwitPic") on my airplane ride home from Honolulu to Hilo last night. He kept asking me if I wanted to smoke a joint (one look at him and I know pot smoking has an ill effect on people's personalities and their potential). He also wanted to know where I was from. Both questions were asked over and over again. So annoying!
When I started taking pictures out of the airplane window he was convinced I was a KGB or German spy. "What are you taking pictures of," he demanded. 'Uh, clouds,' I replied. He accused me several times. He said he'd recently read a spy book and I fit the description. Yes, I looked like one. I must be one! This made me nervous. I mean, how do you get the steward/stewardess' attention when you're pinned up against the window and the way to escape the cuckoo is to fly over his nest? I kept thinking if he lunged to choke me I'd simply poke both his eyes out at the same time. I was prepared!
It was a long flight. When we finally landed, this poster child (who has obviously never grown up!) of wasted humanity stood up and, thankfully, became infatuated with someone else. I stayed in my seat as he moved forward down the center aisle. When there were a few people between us I finally gathered courage. I couldn't help myself. I blurted it out. "Da comrade. Ya govaroo po russkey yazzik. Ya KGB! Harasho! Da! His eyes grew as big as saucers. I'd hit the jackpot. My two-and-a-half years of conversational Russian had paid off in a big way, accent and all. After debarkation, I ended up turning the other way and finding another exit out of the airport, disappearing into the night...just like a seasoned spy would do. Bet he's having fun sharing a drinking and toking at the local convenience store, telling everyone he met someone from the KGB! Da...DOH!

Friday, April 3, 2009

Tweet Cleaning's in the air!

Spring is always the time for a good cleansing because things tend to become too cluttered in my house over the winter This year I'm applying the same principles to my social/business twitter.com account (Karen Welsh). At first I bought into the hype that a twit should add every person who wanted to follow them. Before long, I had so many tweets that I couldn't keep up. It would take me hours to read through all the comments,many of which didn't appeal to me, only to find out hundreds of other comments were made by the time I got to the end of the list. So, for me, I've decided it's best to par down the list and un-follow those who don't quite fit into my life, and it will be in this order:
#1 I'm going to discontinue any tweets from friends and family. Although I have a few exceptions, I've got Facebook for them and adding them to my twitter account is redundant. (Hey, I've unfollowed my own adult daughter and a couple of friends already, so I'm serious about this!)
#2 Any and all multi-level marketers who only tweet about joining their ranks
#3 People who are flippant with the English language, using swear words or sexually explicit imagery
#4 People who obviously don't have anything in common with me. I figure if I wouldn't have dinner or hang with you if we lived in the same town, then it's pretty hopeless to be chirping at each other in twitterville
#5 I'm getting rid of all the people I've coined "Twogs." Those who happily glean followers, but are extremely out-of-balance in who they follow (example 100,000 followers, but only following 50)
#6 People I've followed, but after an appropriate amount of time have not chosen to follow me. I can take the hint!
As I tidy up my twitter account, there are definitely people I will keep in place. #1 Those business people involved in legitimate marketing, publishing, writing, editing and photography are tops on my list. That's because I'm the cream of the crop when it comes to writers and photographers and I'm hoping this unique social network will help me to become connected to the broader community. After all, Hilo, Hawaii, where I live, is very remote and isolated. It may be paradise, but it's hard to connect to those like-minded from paradise.
#2 People from Hawaii that want to be connected to people from the neighbor islands. #3 Twixters that I find fun and witty. I don't care who you are, if you have a stellar sense of humor I'll follow you to the end of the earth.
#4 Brothers and sisters in Christ who encourage me in my faith
#5 Politicians or those who are conservative in politics who keep me abreast of the political climate in the United States.
Now that I've got a plan, I've got all the tools I need to have a successful Tweet Cleaning. Now, if I can just find my broom....er, I mean the delete button!

Thursday, April 2, 2009

It's not awkward meeting other tweeples!

When I first starting tweeting a few weeks ago I read a post by fellow twitterers that said it was awkward when meeting those they've only known online. I thought I might feel the same way, until I went to my first TweetUP at Ken's House of Pancakes in Hilo this past week. What I found, however, were warm, wonderful, witty, and wise tweets. We immediately bonded and realized that we are stronger together than separately. I so enjoyed my time and new found friendships/business connections. I look forward to meeting fellow tweeps again. It made me realize that, although I live in the best place on earth (a.k.a. The Big Island of Hawaii), I am also in one of the most remote areas of the world. It's been hard to connect with those like-minded individuals in the outside world. Although I've only been on twitter.com for a short time , 've already forged new relationships that I hope will continue to bloom and grow!