7/22/17                   Da Birds on da Power Lines

In da hot summer sun, da birds sit on da power lines hung between old wooden telephone poles. For humans, telephones are gone forever; replaced by the ubiquitous smart-phone. High above our rush to enter da age of technology, da birds seem uninterested in our ever increasing addictions to texting, the internet and video games. Perched on power lines recharging our electronic gadgetry serving insatiable human appetites for entertainment and distraction, da birds patiently enjoy watching something a bit slower. They observe the painstaking and rather tedious process of a disappearing generation erecting a symbol of their noble past, Da Obon Tower. Not La Eiffel tower in Paris, the leaning tower of Piza in Rome, nor the Royal Tower of London, but Da Bon Dance Tower of Hanapepe’s Zen Buddhist Temple. Not commonly known, Da Bon Dance Tower of today seems like a replica of Da Rice Tower of da past. More will be learned about the purpose of the original Rice Tower later. Please be patient. No worry… confusion is temporarily ok, when clarity is the outcome. It’s just like waiting at the stop-lite in front of da temple in Hanapepe; it’s sometimes pleasantly confusing and/or stressfully comforting.

So now it is late July, the Sunday before the big Obon Festival in Hanapepe. The traditional Buddhist festival honoring our dead ancestors attracts lots of life in the summer time. In mid-summer, the days are long and sticky. The breeze is a welcome sign for good weather ahead. The passing of last week’s hurricane warning is already forgotten in the flurry of flour mixing and scooping of sweet red bean paste being prepared for the sale of traditional Japanese treats. Da birds hanging out in their abundant numbers near the temple, are also awaiting these treats. Their presence, as well, is a reassuring sign of the passing danger. They anticipate and secretly practice for their own participation in the Obon celebrations of dancing, ono (delicious) food, cultural rejuvenation and spiritual renewal.

Obon is a traditional, celebratory form of ancestor worship, honoring the dead. Families welcome the spirits home for a lovely, ephemeral moment and once again bid them their annual farewell, happily repeating their undying gratitude and joy. Obon is the Buddhist ritual, memorial practice originating from Japan, adapted to and adopted by local island residents and visitors of all religions and multi-cultural origins. We all love to dance, eat and have fun, on warm, summer evenings when the breeze gently cools the hems of kimonos, muumuus and t-shirts. The brightly lit lanterns hang from strings of electrical cords attached to the hub of da Obon tower. A circle is made from da tower, to the lanterns, to the dancers. All is in motion, swaying to the beat of the drum, in rhythm with traditional and not-so-traditional Obon dance music recorded on CD’s and even performed live from da Tower. All are welcome, enjoying good fun, lots of good food, smiles, laughter, and good memories, especially for our Kupuna ( respected elders).

Not too long ago, a Kupuna, an elderly Japanese gentleman in his 80’s shared a story with me about da Rice Tower. I learned the towers,”yagura” in Japanese, were built in the middle of small rice fields. Back in da day, poor farmers often had big families to feed. My Kupuna friend, Aaki-san (Mr. Aaki), talked story about his childhood, raised on a rice farm in Hanalei, Kauai, nearly a 100yrs ago. When he was a boy, too young to plant rice seedlings in the muddy fields, his job was to sit in the hidden platform of the tower and pull the strings attached from the tower to the edges of the rice field like spokes on a bicycle wheel. The strings held tin cans clanging together,” Make beeg noise,” he said, when he pulled them from his hiding place. Thus he spent “small kid time,” scaring away da birds eager to steal grains of rice just before harvest. In the days before pesticides and farm machinery, instead of playing down da beach with his friends, his was a big, lonely, job for a small boy. These stories of hardship and struggle, often enrich the memories of our living treasures, our Kupuna (respected elders) who generously share their humility, enduring love, wisdom and gohan (rice) recipes with younger generations.

Today, da birds on da power lines patiently watch and wait for Obon to start. Da gohan from fallen bits of sushi (rice rolls) and mochi (rice cakes), crumbs from manju (sweet bean cakes), pronto pups( hot dogs on a stick , fried in batter; aka corn dogs) and flying saucers (UFO with ground hamburger)will soon fall to the grassy dance floor in the lantern lit night, then into their beaks at dawn. They practice and chirp their own secret Obon songs, flying in their own subtle circles, invisibly inspiring da dancers who celebrate the cycle of life, moving along the wheel of fate. It is a good time to feel alive and not-yet-dead; though death is not necessarily the end.