How my mother learned to fly again

A personal essay  on traveling in a post-9/11 world.

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Japanese passion of hula, Hawaii continues to grow after nuclear disaster

A violent shudder of the earth jolted Iwalani Tseu from her sleep.

Had the Hula Ambassador for Hawaii been in a western-style bed, and not sleeping on the floor as is typical in Japan, she would have been thrown off the mattress.

The ground had been shaking on and off since a 9.0 earthquake hit Japan earlier that afternoon, triggering a tsunami that rushed the country’s coast, flooding cities, crushing cars and sweeping a bullet train out to sea.

Tseu’s 27-year-old daughter, Arueana Tseu, had a ticket for the missing train. With electricity down and cell phones dead in Nagano, Japan, Tseu was unable to confirm if her daughter was alive or dead.

“That 24 hours was the worst time of my life,” the 61-year-old hula teacher said. “I was crying and people from Hawaii were calling to ask where we were, where was Aureana?”

The next day, Aureana called her mother from Tokyo. She was all right. Instead of taking her scheduled train, Miss Hawaii USA 2009 opted at the last minute to take the later one in order to have a massage before arriving at her hula performance in Fukushima.

What brought the Tseu family so close to tragedy March 11, 2011? Ironically, the love they share with the Japanese for Hawaiian culture—especially the hula.

A Japanese Phenomenon

Hawaii is everywhere in Japan, according to Momi Akimseu, tourism brand manager for the Hawaii Travel Authority. On a recent trip to Japan, Akimseu said she was pleasantly surprised by the strong connection between the two island chains.

“Hawaii loves Japan and Japan loves Hawaii,” she said. She attended a performance where nearly 200 members of the Japanese audience knew the Hawaii state song by heart—in Hawaiian. Akimseu even admitted that she bought a Hawaii-style bag while in Tokyo.

“There are many stores in Japan with Hawaiian-motif products. In Hawaii, much of what you can buy is loud and tacky, like tiki statutes. It’s what sells,” she explained. “In Japan, they see the design and bring their own refined style to it. But respectfully, and with a desire for authenticity.”

The care the Japanese use to recreate Hawaiian art is also seen in their desire to emulate authentic Hawaiian dance, said Akimseu. According to Hawaii Tourism Japan, there are more hula dancers in Japan than in Hawaii. Of course, with so many eager students, there is a market for hula haluas (hula schools) and Hawaiian culture centers in Japan. And Tseu is more than happy to set them up.

She currently has a hula school in Tokyo (run by Aureana who teaches an average of 200 students a week) in addition to her academy on Oahu. In March, Tseu flew to Japan to oversee the opening of a Hawaiian cultural school in Nagano. And Aureana, on tour for her job as a spokesperson for HTJ, was on her way to perform hula in Fukushima and Sendai.

“She’s very popular in Japan,” explained Tseu with a mother’s pride. “She walks in with the flower in her hair, and they clap and cry. Hawaii is kind of a fantasyland for them, and she is able to bring a little bit to them.”

Kelly Sanders, the general manager of the Sheraton Waikiki, the most popular hotel for Japanese tourists in Oahu, said he has noticed the same Japanese infatuation with Hawaiian culture and hula.

“Hawaii remains an aspirational vacation for many. People save for years to go to Hawaii. When I visit Japan and people find out I am from the Sheraton Waikiki, they get so excited. It’s like I’m a celebrity,” he laughed.

When the Japanese visit, they want to partake in the culture. The Sheraton Waikiki offers hula lessons everyday at 10:30 a.m., Sanders said, mostly for the benefit of the Japanese.

“Hula is a big cultural phenomenon for Japan; it’s everywhere.”

Japanese Hula

Many possible reasons have been given for the Japanese interest in hula. Of course, one is Japan’s geographical closeness to the island chain. In addition, many tourism professionals cite hyped-marketing campaigns for the intense interest in the state’s dance.

According to the Hawaiian Travel Authority 2010 statistics, 1.2 million Japanese tourists visited last year, making them the top visitors from Asia. Many book their vacations through agencies, like the Japan Travel Bureau, which organizes tours and reserves hotels for its customers.

David Asanuma, the JTB community relations director, says one of the big draws to Hawaii are its hula festivals, which pull in many Japanese performers. Tokyo-born Asanuma said he thinks the easy exercise of hula has helped the dance gain popularity among older Japanese women.

“It’s good for enjoyment, family style,” he said. “Elderly people are able to enjoy it and it’s something you can do outside in the sunshine.” The soothing music and rhythmic language associated with the dance is also very popular with the older generation, Asanuma added.

By asking the Japanese women in her workshops why they love hula so much, Tseu believes she has discovered one of the driving forces behind the dance’s popularity: freedom.

The Japanese by nature, Tseu said, are reserved. Hula gives them a forum to act like little girls and have fun.

“The women of Japan are secondary to the man,” she explained. “The hula brings out the joy. Because in hula, you have to smile. You have to have eye contact. You have to wear flowers in your hair and you just make yourself look beautiful! And who doesn’t want to feel beautiful, right?”

Swaying hips, rustling grass skirts and lei are all standards of this ancient dance used to honor the gods and relay stories. However, the origin of hula is disputed. Exhibits at the Bishop Museum in Honolulu estimate the Polynesians’ arrival around 700 A.D., but it is unknown whether they brought the dance with them or danced the first hula on the shores of Hawaii.

When Christian missionaries arrived in the 1800s, the provocative undulation of the women’s naked torsos was immediately deemed immoral. As a result, the locals hid hula until the reign of King David Kalakaua who encouraged native Hawaiian culture.

By the 20th century, hula experienced a renaissance as new instruments were added and different cultures influenced the steps. Today, hula is divided into two categories, the traditional hula kahiko and the modern hula auana.

It’s the hula auana, with bold colors, elaborate flowers and ukulele that enthrall tourists at shows and luaus. Robert Mikuni, box office manager for The Magic of Polynesia, said he believes part of the reason the dinner magic show is so popular with the Japanese tourists (who account for 75 percent of the deluxe dinner seats) is because of the Polynesian-inspired dances between illusion acts.

“We work really hard to incorporate the native culture, and our audience really enjoys it,” he said.

According to Tseu, hula is not a recent phenomenon in Japan; she estimates it has been taught there for at least 100 years, brought back to Japan by plantation laborers as well as visitors to Hawaii who believed they had found paradise in the Pacific.

Hula instruction is a nightly feature for tourists attending the Paradise Cove luau. (Photo by Alex Farris)

Hula Healing

In the wake of the recent earthquake, tsunami and nuclear disasters, the Japanese are looking toward hula and Hawaii for another reason: healing.

“Hula is the totality of the body, mind and soul,” said Tseu. The kumu hula, the Hawaiian word for dance and spiritual instructor, has battled cancer twice, and each time, she said she relied on the healing power of hula.

“When experiencing the totality of hula, it returns you to the Source—the Ha, the breath of life. And you make peace with your surrounding.”

Many newspapers have reported on the hula dance troupe in Fukushima. The dancers in Fukushima, the site of the nuclear meltdown, are using hula to call peace and healing to the city as well as cleanse their own bodies of possible radiation.

The dancers are not the only ones focusing on healing through the Hawaiian culture. Japanese travel agents are trying to increase traffic to Hawaii by emphasizing the rejuvenating aspects of beautiful beaches and the gentle hula, said Akimseu.

“The Japanese view Hawaii as a sanctuary, as a safe place,” she said. “Many of them have family here.”

And if Hawaiians believe in anything, Tseu said, it’s family. Or, ohana.

“Hawaii has been the most generous state, sending the most monies,” Tseu pointed out. She herself has participated in many fundraisers on Oahu by providing entertainment for charity dinners.

In Japan, her daughter has given back to the community by auctioning off some of her hula costumes and donating the $2000 she received to tsunami relief efforts. In her spare time, Aureana visits the shelters that assist Japanese struggling from the aftereffects and performs for them.

“She tells me,” Tseu said, “ ‘Mom, even if I’m on the train for three hours going to that destination, dance for half-an-hour and get back on the train, as long as I know I gave them something, it’s worth it. I gave them joy.’”

Read more about IU’s Hawaiian adventures here.


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Guilty pleasure

My best friend told me there is no such thing as a guilty pleasure. If you like

Me showing my TSwift appreciation in Newark Prudential Center July 23

something, why be ashamed of it? So here it goes:

Last weekend, I went to the Taylor Swift concert. By myself. Because I love her.

“Those past the unicorns ‘n’ hearts stage may roll their eyes — but really, they’re not who Swift is speaking to,” said a review of the concert in Entertainment Weekly. So that leads me to another confession: I’m not over the unicorns ‘n’ hearts stage either. If anyone wants to know what the inside of my mind looks like, go see a Taylor Swift concert.

I had a fabulous time. I befriended a girl from Switzerland (also by herself) and two sisters from Puerto Rico whose parents had gotten them  tickets for making the university honor role. I helped a six-year-old girl high-five Taylor as she walked by our front row seats. I left the Prudential Center in Newark and waited on the platform for my train back into Manhattan, humming all the while:

 

 

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How to ride the NYC subway

Step 1. Check for deviations online before you leave the house. If you don’t, you might find yourself stranded at 11 p.m. with no idea how to get home. WARNING: There is always the added thrill of wondering whether or not the website has been updated accurately.  Sometimes, NYC transportation gets a sick thrill from canceling the R, M and E lines on the same night without telling you.

Step 1 ½. Have a water bottle handy. If trains are delayed, you might be stuck  on the platform for a while with stale air and 1000+ degree weather. No one wants you to faint and fall onto the tracks. It will make everyone else late to work.

Step 2. Don’t scream when you see a rat waddle by. Get over it.

Step 3. Try to get a seat. If not, kindly do not lean against the pole so no one else can use it to stabilize themselves. And if you are on a bench and there is only one other person, don’t try to sit right next to her. (It is unspoken protocol to sit in the farthest available seat. Don’t be the one to break it.)

Step 4. Pretend no one else is on the train, but subtly watch everyone. This is best accomplished with sunglasses. The whole “You can’t see me but I can see you” works. With glasses,  you can judge the styles in front of you, shudder at the sweaty PDA and checkout the suits without appearing to be a creep. (But in all honesty, sometimes it’s fun to weird out your fellow travelers. It livens the ride to work.) If you forget your shades, practice your “indifferent” look. Relaxed face, no smile, eyes unfocused. Easiest achieved if you have an iPod.

Step 5.  Stay awake. You really don’t want to wake up at Prince Street when you meant to get out two stops earlier at Union Square. Trust me.

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It All Ends: The Harry Potter Premiere

“All was well.”

I would venture to guess that the majority of people ages 15 to 30 know these are the last words of the seventh and final Harry Potter novel.

Or maybe not.

I’m a nerd.

I have loved Harry Potter since my mother first read the book to me when I was 10 years old.  I was 12 when I forced my sixth grade class to petition the principal for a field trip to see Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone in theaters.  I was 17 when the final book was published.

And I continued my nerdiness on July 11 as I sweated with hundreds of other people in the sticky New York summer, waiting for a glimpse of the Potter cast.

It was a sweaty crowd. It was a loud crowd. It was a sentimental crowd.

Vibrant posters proclaimed: “Go Ginger or Go Home!” and “We Love You Emma!”

But the most common sign simply stated:

“Thanks for my Childhood.”

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(photos by Emily Healy)

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“Make it work”

(Project Runway, Part III)

I meet Tim Gunn, of Project Runway Fame.

As the show ended, the crowed surged after the judges. I stayed behind. While the judges are cool and all, they weren’t the reasons I had gotten up at 5:45. I wanted to meet Tim Gunn.

Finally, Mr. Gunn stood in front of me.

“Hi, I’m Kamilla.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Kamilla.”

“All my friends ran after the judges, but I really wanted to meet you.”

“Well, you made the right choice!” he laughed.

“My mother loves your show.”

“Thank you! I’ve been up since 3 o’clock this morning, and I’m like ‘COFFEE’,” he said, waving his hands energetically.

We posed for a picture. But the meeting was drawing quickly to an end. Before he walked away, I had something I had to do.

“Mr. Gunn,” I blurted out, “Can I have a hug?”

“Of course!”

And then Tim Gunn pulled me into an embrace. The crowd around us went, “Awww.”

The assistant who snapped our picture broke the mood, “I think your battery is out, I’m not sure if I got the picture.”

“That’s alright.” I turned to Mr. Gunn, “I will take the hug away with me.”

He laughed again and moved on.

But that wasn’t the end.

When my friends finally returned from chasing Heidi, Nina and Michael, they got in line to meet Tim as well. I stood with them and asked to get another picture with Emily’s camera.

“Of course you can! Kamilla, right?”

Tim Gunn remembered my name.

He then saw who was behind me.

“Hello, Thomas.”

Tim Gunn remembered Thomas.

“Thanks for making sure he got here all right. We were worried,” I told Mr. Gunn.

He smiled and then we left Tim Gunn and his gorgeous suit. We were beaming and –at least in my case— slightly giddy.

We had made this day work.

see also: 
“One day you’re in, the next day you’re out”  
“Where’s our little lamb?” 
 
 
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“Where’s our little lamb?”

(Project Runway, part II)

I woke up at 5:45 on a drizzly Friday morning. By 8 o’clcok, I had already taken an hour subway into the city, met up with my cousin Emily and walked 15 minutes to the Esplanade, a sidewalk that runs along the Hudson and offers a view of the statue of Liberty.  Workers scurried as they built a temporary runway amidst splattering droplets and a gaggle of girls discussing previous episodes of Project Runway.

Everything was set.

But there was no Thomas.

While Emily and I had managed to find the location in the park, Thomas was wandering around, lost. After many texts and a few complicated phone calls, Thomas finally managed to set out in the right direction.

When he found us, he silently held out his camera. There was Tim Gunn, with his arm causally around Thomas.

Apparently, Mr. Gunn had seen a lost-looking Thomas and pointed him in the right direction. Let me reiterate: TIM GUNN gave THOMAS directions to a PROJECT RUNWAY fashion show.

I don’t think I have ever been more jealous in my life.

The judges began to arrive: a fiercely beautiful Heidi Klum, a teeny-tiny Nina Gracia and a very orange Michael Kors. Following the three judges under a clear umbrella was guest judge, Kim Kardashian, who’s dress was so short, the camera crew had to take five minutes to figure out how she could sit in a lady-like position.

We stood in the front row of people, right across from the judges and had a perfect few of both the runway and backstage. I saw Heidi bopping to the music and singing a song to herself (a Seal song perhaps?). I gave her the thumbs up and she smiled at me. Crew followed her around, fixing her already perfectly coiffed hair while other members wiped the rain off the runway with pastel towels.

When there was finally a cloud break, the show started.  Thomas aptly described it as “A cocktail party for giantessess.”

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see also: 
“One day you’re in, the next day you’re out.”  
“Make it work.” 
 
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