KAILUA-KONA — It was countless hours of preparation, strict observances of traditions and crafts traced back through decades and in the end, a visual feast for thousands. ADVERTISING KAILUA-KONA — It was countless hours of preparation, strict observances of traditions
KAILUA-KONA — It was countless hours of preparation, strict observances of traditions and crafts traced back through decades and in the end, a visual feast for thousands.
The King Kamehameha Day Celebration Parade marked a 100-year legacy on Saturday morning.
“All the horses, all the regalia, it’s just gorgeous,” said Carolyn Konesk, strategically situated out of the blazing sun on Alii Drive.
“Where else would you see a parade like this?” she breathed. “Here they come.”
Shelbi Tomita is an accomplished horsewoman. Gray skirt streaming the colors of Kahoolawe, she put her pony into tight spins on the asphalt of Alii Drive.
It was her first time down this street as a pa‘u princess and having known the rigors of preparation and of the parade itself, she was more rested and less hot than she thought she would be.
Like the rest of the ladies adorned in the traditional pa‘u rider’s garb, she was precisely and severely wrapped — or trapped — in a dozen wraps of the skirt. Sweating, enduring, smiling, waving. And doing spins.
“Long before now our ancestors used to do this,” Tomita said. “That’s how they showed how proud they were of their culture. It was a very respectful but happy tradition.”
Maile Lee Tavares has been close to the culture of the parade for many years, and served this time as one of the announcers because so many of the go-to announcers were in the actual parade this year. She explained some of the preparation this way:
“It takes a long time to make all of the lei. I’ve sat through 24 hours making lei with the mounted units. You spend hours on a lei, then an aunty comes up and slams the lei on the ground, and you ask, ‘what are you doing?’ Because the lei has to stand up on the horse. Everything has to be tight and sturdy as they go down the street. Not only are the lei beautiful, they have to be strong as well.”
On extravagant display were red lehua lei poo, long lei of white shell and kukui, yellow lehua carefully gathered from a single location to prevent the spread of rapid ohia death fungus, fragile ilima blossoms bright as the sun, strung together by the thousands to represent the island of Oahu.
While Betsy Howd, who relocated to West Hawaii from Washington State two years ago, didn’t grasp what went into putting the adornments of the parade together, their shear impact was not lost on her.
“I think what I like about the Hawaiian culture, instead of decorating themselves in jewelry, they decorate themselves with flowers,” she said. “I like the connection to nature and spirituality.”
Maui’s rose pink, Niihau’s pastel blue and the Big Island’s bright red streamed past on the pa‘u princesses — both of the day and of yesteryear, representing eight islands — interspersed with floats by service organizations, businesses and other groups. Each was noticed, praised, some teased, by the announcers on the sidelines who helped give viewers a context for what they were seeing.
Also as part of the day’s festivities, racing paddlers dug the water of Kailua Bay near where King Kamehameha I established the first capitol of the united Hawaiian Kingdom at Kamakahonu. Taking center stage at the hoolaulea that followed at the Hulihee Palace were iconic recording artists Sistah Robi Kahakalau and headliner Hoku Zuttermeister, whose album Aina Kupuna won six Na Hoku Hanohano Awards in 2008.
The Daughters of Hawaii and the Calabash Cousins were among the more than 40 entries in the parade, wearing traditional white dresses — walking, mounted and drawn in a carriage. Organized in 1903 by seven women who were descended from Protestant missionaries, the group had feared the loss of culture and dedicated itself to preserving the spirit, history and language of old Hawaii.
A float of the great king himself rolled through, with Kamehameha’s stand-in waving and flashing shakas to the crowd.
“You folks are so handsome in your regalia,” announcer Christy Lassiter teased the Kona Lodge of Free and Accepted Masons. “The community alohas you for your service.”
“These folks didn’t sleep last night,” Lassiter reminded the crowd as the pa‘u riders passed. “They were up and prepping, getting their beautiful adornments together.”
Another reminder: The riders, smiling and suffering the heat on their prancing steeds, were encased in 12 yards of wrap which they had somehow managed to make look effortless.
“Where are their tucks?” Lassiter asked. “What did they have to do to achieve this look which is so beautiful?”
