Da' Hawai`i Club: Lû`au 2002

A fond remembrance of a transplant from Hawai`i, residing on The Mainland...

Twice a week this past summer, a convivial group of upbeat seniors gathered in the evening cool of Southern California backyards to kanikapila (gather and play Hawaiian music; jam) and work on their performances for the big lû`au at summer's end.  

Some arrived harried, after a mad dash on the freeways, straight from work, while others, blissfully retired, leisurely ambled over.  Each arrived with Aloha to spare, a big smile, hugs for all and a potluck dish in hand for the island-style pa`ina (supper) that concluded every gathering.

All are members of Da' Hawai`i Club, a social club founded by Fely Fagaragan, formerly of Pahala, Hawai`i, and Bennie Cabalona, formerly of Mountain View, Hawai`i, under the auspices of the Cerritos Senior Center.  Most are transplanted keiki o ka `âina (children of the Hawaiian homeland) on The Mainland, expatriates largely due to economic realities; others are Hawaiians-at-heart or -by-association. 

These seniors range in age from 50 on up. Although a few are younger, some are well into their 80s, most are in their 60s and 70s. In keeping with Hawai`i's melting pot, they come from all economic and ethnic backgrounds, dressed in everything from T-shirts and shorts to Aloha shirts or fancy mu`umu`u.  

Most are residents of Cerritos, a suburb located on the border of Los Angeles and Orange counties, but word of mouth has drawn folks to the club from all over the region. There is now a waiting list to get in, so popular is this club!

These transplants reflect the reality of today's seniors.  For this group, "senior citizen" does not mean decrepit, as they are hardly the dependent, helpless, unproductive and demanding rather than deserving seniors often stereotypically (and unfairly) depicted in the media.

In reality, these seniors represent what is more the norm of present-day seniors.  They are modern day kûpuna (elders).  Respected and valued for their maturity, life experience, and wisdom, they are kûpuna in the truest of Hawaiian tradition. 

They are self-sufficient, middle-class consumers with more assets than most young couples and substantial time and talent to offer their community and society-at-large. Advances in medicine and self-care and increases in personal (and discretionary) income have made them a force to be reckoned.  

For the members of Da' Hawai`i Club, this is a reflective time in their lives when all things Hawaiian -- or "local" -- can be appreciated and fully savored.  

These days, the socializing with island-style  "talking story" and playful teasing to the accompaniment of a full range of Hawaiian music -- sometimes romantic, other times rollicking -- contribute immeasurably  to their quality of life.  They get back in touch with their own open Hawaiian hearts of their youth, when people celebrated their diversity but still found lots of common ground.

Their gatherings revolve around the music of Hawai`i. They sing the hapa haole  tunes (songs with mostly English lyrics and a smattering of Hawaiian phrases thrown in) of their youth and the traditional classics:  Hawai`i Pono`î, Aloha `Oe, and Hawai`i Aloha.

Contemporary songs with full Hawaiian lyrics by Keali`i Reichel, Mâkaha Sons, Israel Kamakawiwo`ole, The Brothers Cazimeros  and others also fill the suburban night air. Hardly stuck in the past, these seniors also embrace today's authentically Hawaiian songs, offspring of the Hawaiian cultural renaissance of the 1970s which reasserted Hawaiian values and revived in song and dance, the Hawaiian language, a politically suppressed language once on the verge of extinction.  

A common observation among them is: "A lot of my family and friends back home seem indifferent to Hawaiian music, hula, and culture.  They're not into it like we are.  Many could care less.  I wonder why..."   

As the above `ôlelo no`eau (Hawaiian proverb) points out, one must  leave Hawai`i to truly see and become fully aware of its beauty.  "Absence makes the heart grow fonder."  A case of mixed blessings.  

Indeed, blessed with awareness and fondness, these transplants have come to deeply value the culture of their homeland.  Wholly supportive, many attend concerts and heartily welcome modern-day Hawaiian troubadours who travel to the Coast.  Faithful followers snatch up CDs of their favorites to keep themselves immersed in the sounds of today's Hawaiian music.  To keep up on the latest, many tune into alohajoe.com, an on-line radio show dedicated to real Hawaiian music.

With Hawaiian music as the catalyst for their gatherings, these transplants gather  "to just have fun."  No one has anything to prove.  Criticalness and hilahila (shyness, reticence) are left outside the door with the pile of assorted footwear.  No sedentary card-playing or arm-chair exercises for these Hawai`i-connected seniors.  Within minutes, they are up on their feet and dancing -- the hula --  in an atmosphere that is laid-back, comfortable and accepting. 

So what if the knees are too stiff to bend like they used to?  Or the hands, graceful only with the help of Motrin?  Or if the `ami (a hula step with a full hip revolution) takes the scenic route?  Or the `uwehe more of a burp rather than "a pushing foward of the knees with a quick, rhythmic raising of the heels"?  Le`ale`a (Have fun)!   

Everyone's there to help each other out.  Competition is "out"; cooperation is very much "in." The word that came to this writer's mind over and over again while in the company of these club members was mâlama. One of the  most beautiful of Hawaiian words, it has many definitions, including nurturing, caring for, protecting, watching over, preserving, serving, honoring, and supporting.  Each of these definitions fully apply with this group.

Smiling, playfully teasing and laughing, they sing, strum and pick on their `ukulele and guitar strings and hula. If you're thinking hula is for women only:  WRONG!  

This year, the guys were as intent on learning "Holoholo Ka`a" and "Hukilau", as the gals, who learned "Lei Pikake" and "Lahainaluna"  for the big lû`au that would showcase them.  

Some have only now discovered the joys of hula; others are rediscovering it after decades of benign neglect.  All are now having the time of their lives, swearing by the benefits of the hula, that ancient  Hawaiian art that uses breathing and movements to channel "mana" (spiritual energy) by telling stories with the body.

Their kumu (instructors) are Helene Otani, a gifted dancer from Maui who has studied under hula legends and Eric Kela, a professional entertainer at Duke's Huntington Beach, originally from Hilo.  Both club members, they teach their peers for free, their way of sharing this enlivening Hawaiian cultural art.  

Hula is low-impact without jarring moves or acrobatic spins.  Its graceful movements of the feet, knees, hips, arms, wrists, and fingers, always accompanied with full expression of the eyes and face, makes the hula  the most pleasing, intriguing and entertaining of all dances -- and for all ages.

The slow hip movements, gentle arm waves of the hula and rhythmic steps make it a perfect warm-up exercise.  The fast songs use rapid arm, hip and leg motions, making for an invigorating workout.  Simple postures and gentle stretches of muscles and movements of joints help to maintain (or regain) youthful mobility. By practicing disciplined yet unstrenuous movements, new and heightened mind-body relationships develop.

Hula also serves to provide good mental exercise as new Hawaiian words are learned, songs are committed to audio, visual and kinesthetic memory banks, and body motion sequences are coordinated with the meanings of the songs.  Cognitive abilities are exercised and enhanced because the hula tells stories and the messages of the hula with its emphasis on natural beauty and Aloha are often healing, or at least uplifting. 

The hula is laced with stories, lessons and traditions of the islands, subliminally teaching (or re-teaching) its dancers how to cherish the `ohana (family), respect the kûpuna (elders and those who have come before),  and nurture the `âina (land) and appreciate its phenomena, be it a flower or a winding road. In short, hula helps these seniors to acknowledge and celebrate life itself.

Much of Hawaiian health wisdom is based on theories of balancing one's life and much like anything else, when life is brought into balance, energy flows better.  Being pono (balanced) is a key to health.  And so it is with hula, which balances working hard with having fun.  This group has this concept down pat.

The social aspects of hula  are particularly important for the single seniors of the group. Just being a part of a big group breaks down their isolation.  A number of them no longer have their husband or wife anymore, so one of hula's attractions is that they can still dance without partners. Group dancing is far less threatening than partner dancing. 

"Dancing hula as a group is tremendous fun," says a single senior. "People who don't hula are missing something, like hugging and kissing."

Leaving these kanikapila sessions, they are refreshed and renewed. They are back in touch with their loving, generous and playful souls. Once more, they are infused with The Aloha Spirit.  It is clear that Hawaiian music, hula and island-style camaraderie have brought them to their fountain of youth.

An inspiring eighty year-old  has been dancing for a year, casting aside her cane when she's on the dance floor.  "I'm more relaxed and my joints are looser," she said. "I think it counteracts old age."

The lû`au held in the Majestic Room  at the Cerritos Senior Center was a huge success.  After dining on authentic Hawaiian fare with music provided by Da' Hawai`i Club musicians, the showcasing of the talent of Da' Hawai`i Club began.