tonight, we went to the waipahu taiyoji bon dance. i would have preferred going to the koganji bon dance in manoa, but lynn's dad and irene said they would be at the waipahu bon dance... we got there after 6, only to discover that the dancing and everything would only start at 8 pm! so we bought andagi, spam musubi, etc., and found some seats, and just hung out for roughly 2 hours... we had all dressed in our (pathetic) best for the bon dance. i was wearing this happi coat with a big black and white dragon on the back (as if i were worthy of such garish, attention-drawing attire!). my wife wore something similar, only it wasn't a real happi coat, it was only something that LOOKED happi... aiden was wearing his "crabby" jimbei, and a hachimaki with the "matsuri" character on it. and willow, she was the star of the show, wearing her red yukata, and with a pretty fan pin in her hair. the kids got bored, so they started making up their own dances on the broken asphalt. willow seems to have inherited her dance moves from me: she just kind of kicks up her heels and shoots her arms out, over and over again. kinda flailing. dangerous. like the way i dance. aiden, on the other hand, he just kept saying "rock and roll star" and laughing hysterically. lynn and i eventually convinced him to spread his arms and legs out like a real star, and do the "jazz hands" (from "bring it on")...
anyway, at one point, aiden and lynn went to get a bottle of water from the food stand. this old woman in a red and black happi coat was sitting with her friend in the two chairs next to ours. the woman was gazing at willow fondly. eventually, she mentioned that willow's yukata was tied the wrong way. sheepishly, i replied that my wife had done it (i'm such a jerk). anyway, the old woman helped me then and there; we untied willow's sash, redid the yukata (LEFT OVER RIGHT) and she artfully tied the sash properly (higher, and with three cycles around willow's body). i thanked her, willow thanked her, and then willow (as always) began a rambling conversation with the woman. the old woman, who introduced herself as kimiko, really took a liking to willow. she remarked at how articulate willow was, etc. before willow went out to dance (with me), kimiko noticed willow didn't have a towel, so she went through her bag, got out an extra, and hung it around willow's shoulders...
later in the evening, kimiko asked me, "are you a teacher?" i hesitated in replying, because i was worried the answer would be too complex. finally, i just said, "no, but i am going to school to get a master's in special education." kimiko seemed moved by this, wiping her eyes. i asked her why she had asked the question. kimiko said, "my husband was a special education teacher at aiea elementary. he was soft and kind like you." i was moved by this compliment; i told kimiko i was sorry when i learned that he had passed away a couple of years ago...
kimiko later mentioned that she had no children, no grandchildren, but she loved all children dearly. she really took a liking to willow. i wanted to ask her more, perhaps some contact info even, but it seemed inappropriate... at times, she seemed to withdraw whenever i asked her questions; and perhaps she was content just to be kind to a little girl whom she adopted (in her heart) as her own granddaughter... in any case, willow (and aiden) gave kimiko a big hug before we left that evening.
bon is a festival honoring the dead. celebrants dance around the tower in the center like leaves floating on a spinning whirlpool. the moves of the dance are best performed by those in the center; the periphery is occupied by clods (like myself) who half-jokingly mime the moves...
the dead visit the living in the bon; it is imagined that they watch, perhaps even appear in the motions of the celebrants...
i was thinking that, maybe for kimiko, our family, myself and willow in particular, were a kind of visitation from her husband: her regrets, her remembered hopes, everything... who says that the dead can only speak through dead and long forgotten things? the dead maybe embody in the face of a living stranger, or in the laughter of an innocent child...
memory and life, death and time, they are all like the whirling dance of obon, spinning around the center, where the music issues, keeping the rhythm, driving the dance...
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