Not Who I Thought You Were

“Kanoe? Are you ready? Got your costume?”

“Yeah. Just a minute.”

“We have to go. Your kumu just called and wants to know where you are.”

“Okay. I'm ready., and thanks for calling her a kumu instead of a teacher."

As usual, she looked gorgeous. I was proud of my Hawaiian daughter.

We made it to the show in time. I walked her to the tent dressing room which was at the park where her halau was performing. The other girls were inside inspecting each other’s costumes and applying their makeup. I didn’t go in so as not to bother them. They were teenagers and were capable of getting themselves to the stage and lining up in the proper order.

I turned and saw Frank from the hotel where I worked in the accounting department. He was hurrying to the tent next to the one where I was standing.

He must have a son in the show. I didn’t know he was involved in hula shows. I wonder if his group, or his son’s group competes?

The music started as usual with the blowing of the conch shell and the beating of island drums. I stood in the entrance as the Tongan group surged past me, so I stepped inside and stood in the back. The Tongans were lined up ready to step onto the stage. They always put on an entertaining and very lively performance, although I hadn’t seen their latest production.

It was a beautiful day with the warm sun and the smell of the nearby ocean at Alamoana Beach Park. The tents had been put up by the hotel for this Polynesian show that was put on for the locals as well as the tourists staying at nearby hotels.

The drums got louder, and the Tongan group took the stage. I hadn’t seen this particular group for a while so wasn’t aware that after the teenage girls performed their phenomenal dancing, shaking their hips and lowering themselves down while rising onto the balls of their feet while loudly chanting. Then suddenly stopped as if frozen in time, turned and quickly left the stage.

The next group of dancers were Tongan men dressed in female costumes. They were known for doing this from time to time and I didn’t think anything of it. They jumped onto the stage and started dancing and singing and at the end of their performance were also chanting as they turned to leave.

Suddenly, before they finished leaving the stage, a large local Hawaiian man who was sitting in the third row stood up and shouted at them that they were male and shouldn’t be there dancing in front of children. There was no indication that any of them were performing in an inappropriate manner, so I was surprised. Most of the audience were familiar with this dance group and gestured at the Hawaiian to sit down. He ignored them and continued to harass the performers. Finally, one of them stepped to the front of the stage and yelled, “I do this all the time! We are just performing for entertainment. If you don’t like it, step outside.”

The Hawaiian continued to harass the Tongans, and the man on stage stopped as if he was considering what to do next. Then he leaned forward and glared at the large Hawaiian and shouted at him, “I am Tongan. This is my culture. I am married with three children. I do this to entertain and for making a little money on the side. Either leave or shut up and sit down.”

Frank! It was Frank! What is he doing up there on stage? How come I didn’t know he did this on the weekends?

The Tongan group left the stage mumbling to each other and walked to their dressing room tent. I left to find Frank. I could hear the audience talking and telling the Hawaiian to sit down and shut up. The loudest was his aunty who was ordering him to sit down and shut up.

I caught up with Frank before he went inside the dressing room tent and said, “Hi, Frank. Fancy meeting you here!” He turned and his face looked grim with scowling and his mouth downturned. But when he saw me, he brightened up and nodded his head. I said, “That was a great performance. I didn’t know you performed in shows on the weekends. That's so cool.”

“Thank you. I appreciate you saying that.”

“Does anyone at work know you perform?”

“No. I don’t talk about it. Did you see my daughter? She was dancing in the girls' group.”

“No, I didn’t know you had a daughter. Those girls were all beautiful and talented. It must take a long time to learn some of those moves.”

“Yes, it does. Her mom is here with her. She dances also but not in these shows. She is a regular at another hotel. Are you here because the Alamoana made you come to the show, or do you have someone in it?”

“I go to a lot of shows around the island. My daughter is in Hokulani’s halau. She is a teenager, and this performance is a rehearsal for the girls' competition on the mainland in three weeks.”

“Well, we’ll have to talk about that at work sometime.”

“Is it okay if others at work know about your performing?”

Frank hesitated and licked his lips. He looked down at the ground and then lifted his head and said, “Sure. Why not? There’s nothing wrong with what I do, and my family knows all about it. In fact, they come to most of my shows, and we all go to my daughter’s performances. I wish these locals would quit being so judgmental. We never have tourists shout at us. Never.”

“Okay. Just checking. I don’t want to cross any privacy lines.” I smiled and he nodded his head as he turned and walked into the tent.

Now I had a plan I could work with. I had been thinking about some sort of activity the accounting department could do, other than the annual 10K run, and this would be perfect. Frank didn't work in accounting. He was a cook in the restaurant of the hotel. I decided to approach my department with the idea of going to one of Frank’s shows.

Not surprisingly, they were all for it. We planned to attend the next show on the beach. Everyone in the department was interested and would be taking their families. Our supervisor even wanted to go. We definitely would be cheering on the Tongans at their next performance.

Discussing Frank made us realize that we might want to start talking to each other more. There might be some surprises in store for us in our own department, like when I went to the mainland in the senior ladies’ group to dance in a hula competition. The picture of us, which I never showed anyone, was startling since I was the only white person in the halau, and my light skin shined bright in the back row. We won third place.