Hawaii: the huki, huki, huki, huki, hukilau ...

During one of the rainy evenings we spent on Kauai we decided to go to a luau. It wasn't at the top of my list of things to do, but the more limited we became by weather the more open I became to doing just about anything that was still possible/open.















This was one of the Polynesian dances. The costumes were really colorful. For a few hours I entertained the idea of getting my own coconut bra (and getting Husband a loin cloth made out of leaves). As with most purchases, I decided to wait a day, sleep on it, and see if it still seemed like a good idea in the morning. It didn't.







































This guy juggled (and might have even eaten, I can't remember?) fire. It was pretty intense.

During the luau, both husband and I were chosen to get up on stage and learn the hula. Apparently hula dance was a way of acting out stories. So I acted out fishing, eating fish, not liking fish, and throwing it back. Good times.

It's a very interesting culture. But I wondered what it was like for the dancers. Their job is to humor tourists every night. Which is kind of like my high school summer job at TCBY when all the New Yorkers would come down to vacation on the Jersey shore. Although my beef with the New Yorkers wasn't their curiosity, enthusiasm or carefree attitude. What bothered me most was the fact that even when they were getting ice cream they still seemed grumpy, impatient, and rude. Maybe because I only served low fat ice cream. Fat makes people nicer.