Sharing treasure : how the story of Hanafuda Hawai’i Style promises cultural heritage to be shared time

Sharing Treasure

How the Story of Hanafuda Hawai’i Style Promises Cultural Heritage to Be Shared Time

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#5894212

August 12th, 2013

Evaluators: Anneke Beerkens MSc & dr. Yolanda van Ede Word count: 30.053

MA Thesis submitted to the Faculty of Social and Behavioral Sciences in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Science,

Department of Cultural and Social Anthropology, University of Amsterdam

Source cover: own cover illustration

Oudezijds Achterburgwal 185 1012 DK Amsterdam

Supervised by:

Dr. Francio Guadeloupe

University of Amsterdam

Faculty of Social and Behavioral Sciences (FMG) Oudezijds Achterburgwal 185

And so the seed Becomes a flower

And in its hour Reproduces dreams

And flowers.

And so the root Becomes a trunk

And then a tree And seeds of trees And springtime sap And summer shade And autumn leaves And shape of poems

And dreams — More than tree.

And so it is With those who make

Of life a flower, A tree, a dream Reproducing (on into

Its own and mine And your infinity) Its beauty and its life

In you and me.

And so it was And is with you: The seed, the flower,

The root, the tree, The dream, the you.

This poem I make (From poems you made)

For you.

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This thesis explains how a deeply intersubjective fieldwork research on a Japanese flower card game in Hawai'i, can give us larger insights on the dynamics and narrative formations of cultural heritage politics, and perhaps offer a unique perspective to the debate. Revolved mostly around the story of Hanafuda Hawai´i Style, the discussions on cultural heritage here are interpreted and created by the hanafuda sensei and me. The story gives us an example of how treasure is made and shared through an interaction with the world. I argue that the treasure presented here in the form of a card game, bears the promise of being together despite difference because despite its criteria of ‘Japa-neseness,’ and ‘Hawai’ianness,’ the game can belong to anybody, you simply have to show up to play. This idea allows for a more open minded perspective on cultural herit-age narratives, moving away from more commonly known associations of ownership and rights, and processes of inclusion and exclusion, but rather seeing them as stories about shared time. In short, the story focuses on (a) the narration of Hanafuda Hawai'i Style, (b) its placement in the discussion on cultural heritage, and (c) its unique promise to this discussion. Dubbed a ´hanafuda revolution,´ the force of the movement ultimate-ly is to connect people in the present. Being connected through common time instead of other criteria opens up a discussion that links ideas of cultural heritage and the question of living with others.

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List of Figures ………..……… vi

Acknowledgments ………..……….. vii

1. Introduction: Okage Sama De 1

Presenting Hanafuda Hawai’i Style ………... 1

Reflections on the Subject and Ourselves ……… 5

Shaping a Narrative: Underlying Premises ………. 11

2. Written in the Cards 17

The Day I Hit Gold ………..……… 17

A Birthday to Remember ………. 23

Unlocking Hanafuda Secrets ………... 29

3. A Collection of Short Stories 39

A Story of Hanafuda ……… 39

Narratives of Cultural Heritage in Hawai’i ………. 45

Stories on Cultural Heritage ………. 50

Hanafuda as Cultural Heritage ………. 58

4. Hanafuda Revolution! 64

Dear Noelle ………. 64

A Mission to Be Together ……….……... 69

Why There is a Rabbit in the Moon ……….. 79

5. Conclusion: Cultural Heritage as Shared Time 81

The Promise of Helen's Hanafuda Hawai’i ……… 81

Reframing the Cultural Heritage Debate ………. 87

Glossary ………. 92

Appendix ………...………. 95

Bibliography ………. 109

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1.1 Photo. Kaiser High school students teaching Hawai’i Kai Retirement

Community members how to play hanafuda (Hawai'i Kai, February 2012). page| 2 1.2 Photo. Helen and her granddaughter Ariel in 2004. Photo Courtesy of Google. page| 3

1.3 Photo. Hanafuda Hawai’i Style gift box, as sold. page| 4

2.1 Photo. Ribbons of water streaming down the Ko’olau mountains. Photo courtesy of KITV.com. page| 24

2.2 Photo. Helen and me standing in front of the birthday banner and hanafuda flags (Kaneohe, March 2012). page| 24

2.3 Photo. Serving the potluck (from left to right): Helen Nakano, Helen Hosaka (barely visible behind her is Cathe Wong), Doris Nakamura, Naomi Ohta, Patsy Tsukamoto, Vel Ushijima, Emi Uemura and Alyson Kimura (Kaneohe, March 2012). page| 25

2.4 Photo. Collecting the last points (from left to right): Eloise Yano, Doris Nakamura, Helen Hosaka, and Lisa Wildy-Steneker (Kaneohe, March 2012). page| 27

2.5 Photo. The birthday crowd (from left to right): Alyson Kimura, Helen Hosaka, Emi Uemura, Doris Nakamura, me, my mother Lisa Wildy-Steneker, Helen Nakano, Patsy Tsukamoto, Eloise Yano, Naomi Ohta, and Cathe Wong (Kaneohe, March 2012).

page| 28

2.6 Photo. The monthly suits in the Hanafuda Hawai’i Style deck. page| 30

3.1 Map. Map of the State of Hawai’i. Photo Courtesy of Google. page| 46

3.2. Map. City map of Honolulu and its neighborhoods, Oahu. Photo Courtesy of Google. page| 46

3.3 Photo. Ono no Tofu on the November card. page| 61

4.1 Photo. Helen Nakano giving her hanafuda presentation at a hanafuda tournament at Hongwaji Jikoēn (Honolulu, February 2012). page| 80

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This thesis is first and foremost a product of my engagement with Helen Nakano, and the hanafuda sensei: Geri Cheng, Helen Hosaka, Alyson Kimura, Doris Nakamura, Rosemary Nishi, Naomi Ohta, Patsy Tsukamoto, Vel Ushijima, Cathe Wong, and Eloise Yano. They, and other volunteers, have consistently provided me with insights, advice, food and friendship. Car rides, and other efforts towards helping me have not been missed! Their kindness, hospitality and generosity have taught me the true meaning of Aloha. This thesis is dedicated to you. Mahalo.

Just as important to my fieldwork, a big thanks to Emi Uemura for her generosity, June and Bob Asato for their help, Linda Lawrence for her thoughts, and Jane Okamoto Kemeiji and Momi Cazimero for their interviews. A special thanks to Deirdre Mulvihill for her friendship and Helen Nakano's phone number of course! Heartfelt thanks to Beatrice Koyasu, for the snorkeling and other brave attitudes, and Sumako Cohn, for sharing her treasure. A great big mahalo for all the people who made my time in Hawai'i mo' betta, there are too many to name here but you know who you are! I cherish our times together always.

I feel enormous gratitude towards my friends, who have supported me consistently and lovingly throughout this work: Deniz Bingöl, Marjolein Blum, Luca van Boeckel, Tammy Furtjes, Manya Hendriks, Floor de Joncheere, Rawanduz Kelesh, Lotte Lechanteur, Mei-Li Nieuwland, Kim Out, Ayke Rosbach, Ghezal Rostami, Tamar Strietman, Albertine Vermeer, en Marlies Verstegen. How greatly you enrich my life!

I am greatly indebted to my supervisor dr. Francio Guadeloupe, who has showed faith in me and my project from start to finish. This thesis would have never been possible without him; his thoughts and guidance shine through each page. His generous sharing of precious time and creative ways of helping me write, surpass any ordinary thesis supervision I am sure.

I would also like to thank the people whose words are scattered throughout this thesis, they open windows in what would otherwise be a stuffy room.

Last but not least, I am forever thankful to my wonderful family, whose complete and extraordinary love and support have made me who I am today. Okage sama de! My parents, Lisa and Pieter Steneker, my brother and sister Kyle and Laela, my opa and oma Corrie and Herman Steneker, my grandparents Donald and Eileen Wildy, and all my beloved aunts, uncles and cousins. I gladly share the treasure of time with all of you by playing a game of cards, hanafuda or two sets of three!

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Okage Sama De

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But sometimes everything I write with the threadbare art of my eye seems a snapshot,

lurid, rapid, garish, grouped, heightened from life, yet paralyzed by fact. All's misalliance.

Yet why not say what happened? - In Epilogue, by Robert Lowell

Presenting Hanafuda Hawai'i Style

Helen picks me up early and we drive to the Hawai’i Kai Retirement Community. We unload our stuff in front of the assisted living building, which is huge. Inside the complex, there are already tables, chairs, and flags set up in a dining like area of the meeting hall. I take out the easels and posters and other stuff Helen uses for her talk (what she calls her ‘junk’), and set it up in front of the rows of chairs. There is a boy from the Kaiser High School to help us out (sixteen more students will be joining later), and together we make the name tags. Helen asks us what we think would be best, different colored name tags for the seniors and students, or for different teams? Should we switch teams eventually? I say probably not because some people will have trouble moving, and it will be obvious what the different teams are, as the seniors will be playing against the students. We decide on yellow taped name tags. Helen has given us instructions to write down the senior's last names, so we approach the first people that have come. Two white haired ladies are the first ones to sit down, a little in back. The boy asks for their names, and they both give their first names. He asks for their last names politely, but they don't understand. He writes down their first names and puts “Ms.” in front. One is named Ms. Lau and one is Ms. Dottie-Mae Hummelender (If I remember correctly) she says she gives her Hawai’ian name if she wants to confuse people. I'm grateful she chose not to confuse us. Ms. Lau asks me what will be happening here. I tell her there will be a presentation on hanafuda (has she ever heard of it? She says she has, she played it as a child), and afterwards the game will be taught to them by high school students, so if she wants to play she is welcome to join us. She

folds her hands in her lap and says she will sit and wait right here.

The sensei (hanafuda teachers) show up and I greet Helen Hosaka, Patsy and Rosemary with warm hugs. I meet some sensei I haven’t seen before. I feel really part of this now. We write name tags for the sensei, writing: sensei – first name. It is past 09:30 already and Helen was supposed to start presenting about now. We are worried because there are only seven seniors currently in seats, and the high school kids have not even shown up yet. Also, Helen cannot find a microphone. After a while though, twenty-or-so more residents show up, the students arrive, and someone hands Helen a mic. From the middle row, I have trouble hearing her talk, but people seem to respond to her jokes and questions, so I figure it is all right. After Helen is finished talking, we pack up the stuff really fast. The other sensei will be staying to help out the students with the hanafuda playing, but Helen and I will be driving to the next gig, a senior club in Kalihi where she will be doing a presentation. Before leaving, I take some quick pictures of the students seated around the tables, already busy explaining the rules. Helen seems really pleased with them taking charge.

Photo 1.1. Kaiser High school students teaching Hawai’i Kai Retirement Community members how

to play hanafuda (Hawai'i Kai, February 2012).

About four years ago, a woman named Helen Nakano thought hard about how she could bond with her four-year old granddaughter, Ariel. With Helen living in Hawai’i and Ariel living on the mainland, they didn't get to see each other so often. Helen wondered how she could spend time with Ariel so she wouldn't forget her grandma. Then, she thought of something called hanafuda, a little Japanese flower card game which is easy to play. She played it with Ariel on their next visit and they had a lot of fun together. When it was time to go home, she made a little instruction book with the rules, so Ariel could play with her friends when grandma wasn't there. Helen, being the generous woman she is, continued to make many copies and passed them out to all her relatives. “Play together!” she said. Soon, more people around her started asking her for the little instruction book. She soon began to realize that she was not the only grandma whose grandchildren lived far away, but who still wanted means to bond with them. Hanafuda was a game of their childhood in Hawai’i, and they wanted to play again. So Helen took the jump, put her retirement’s savings into a one-grandma business, and called it: Hanafuda Hawai’i Style. Her son Jason drew the cards and together with Helen's little instruction book, they sold them in a little gift box. Helen was not interested in making

Photo 1.2. Helen and her granddaughter Ariel in 2004. Photo Courtesy of Google.

making money, but she had a mission. The initial divide between her and her granddaughter she saw echoed in many other families around her, made her determined to share hanafuda as a tool to bring generations together. She called her friends and recruited them to help her sell the cards while teaching the game and preaching the mission. Instead of selling it to wholesalers, she distributed it to non-profit organizations, and the profits went to charities like Meals on Wheels1 and the 100th Infantry Battalion Veterans organization.2 Soon enough, people from outside Helen's circle started joining in the efforts, and invitations for her to come and do a presentation on hanafuda came flowing in. Helen came a long way since the first time she played with Ariel, and to this day, the story of Helen's Hanafuda Hawai’i Style continues. A part of the story will be told here.

Photo 1.3. Hanafuda Hawai’i Style gift box, as sold.

1 _{Hawai‘i Meals on Wheels (HMoW) is dedicated to helping frail elders and individuals with}

disabilities preserve their independence at home by providing hot, nutritious meals and regular personal contact.

2 _{The 100th Infantry Battalion Veterans organization is comprised of veterans, their wives and widows,}

their descendants and honorary members. The Center is located in the clubhouse which is dedicated to preserving an important part of history by honoring the veterans and perpetuating their legacy.

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Reflections on the Subject and Ourselves

Also referred to as the ‘hanafuda movement,’ this small enterprise started by Helen is kept alive by her and the sensei. Together they volunteer to help with the different activities surrounding hanafuda, be they presentations, workshops, events and/or tournaments. They wear hanafuda t-shirts or aprons, with new laminated name tags. Most of the sensei are drawn from Helen's social network (though recently others have been recruited from outside), from being old high school or college friends, to yoga students (which Helen also teaches next to hanafuda), family, friends of friends etc. In total, there are about fifty hanafuda sensei, although that is just according to the mailing list; not all fifty are equal participants. The sensei that have been there from the beginning, setting up small booths in front of the Manoa3 shopping center and selling the card game off the street, Helen calls her ‘core group.’ Now, they travel with her to libraries, senior centers, schools, cultural clubs, markets, community centers and other gatherings where Helen is invited to give a presentation on the game, teach it, or both. Depending on their time and interest, the sensei let Helen know when they can make it and how they can help.

During my time in Hawai’i, I've had the privilege to meet some of these women. I have met about one third of the sensei, nine of which I have spent lots of time with,4 working hanafuda gigs, talking, visiting, eating, and doing interviews among other things. Being of course very different people, in character, life, and personal interests, they do have certain things in common that permit them to be grouped together if one should want to do so. First of all, they are all women. Besides some husbands who help out in various ways (especially Helen Nakano's husband George), there are no ‘official’ male sensei. Second of all, most of the women are relatively close in age (being between sixty-five and eighty years old). Thirdly, most of them have Japanese ancestry, which means their parents or (great)grandparents came from Japan. There are some exceptions, but few. Fourth, they are all ‘local,’ meaning that (even when well-travelled), they were born, raised, and lived for most of their lives in the state of

3 _{Manoa is a valley and residential neighborhood of Honolulu where Helen lives.}

4 _{These women are (in alphabetical order): Geri Cheng, Helen Hosaka, Alyson Kimura, Doris}

Nakamura, Helen Nakano, Rosemary Nishi, Naomi Ohta, Patsy Tsukamoto and Eloise Yano.

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Hawai’i. Fifth, they have similar socioeconomic statuses; all would easily be considered to be middle-class to upper-middle class citizens. Sixth, all of them, no exception, came across as open, friendly and active in their communities, albeit in different ways. Last of all, and perhaps most significant, these women all believe in the mission of hanafuda, and are (or have become) good friends. All know, love, and think highly of Helen Nakano. This makes the volunteering for Hanafuda Hawai'i Style, in their opinion, time well spent. I mention all this not because I would like to explain anything in particular, but because it provides a kind of background to which one can refer to when thinking about who these women are. Though being a senior citizen is not always a socially significant category, it does tell you that these women are most likely to be retired, and have time to spend to their liking. I am sure there is more significance to be gained from this social categorizing than I have done in this thesis, but I have not elaborated on it much besides recognizing its potential influence of how things went the way they did. The reason for this is that I have not taken on an approach of explaining certain things, but rather put effort into presenting a discussion on our shared time together in which we told stories, viewing the women each one as a world. This perspective offers the possibility of diverse concepts I feel make sense, namely “that it is possible to reflect the global within the particular, that the personal, the private, is also the general, [and] that to know one person is to have great richness of experience, that we are, each and every one, complicated and different” (Van Epp Salazar 1998: 231).

The relationship that evolved with the sensei during my fieldwork has been crucial to my ‘findings’ and my writing, and I wish to greatly stress the intersubjective significance of the research. As all anthropologists know, fieldwork is possible only when researcher and researched share time (Argyrou 1999; Clifford 1988; Tyler 1986).

An interest in the discursive aspects of cultural representation draws attention not to the interpretation of cultural “texts” but to their relations of production. … in this view of ethnography the proper referent of any account is not a represented “world”; now it is specific instances of discourse. But the principle of dialogical production goes well beyond the more or less artful presentation of “actual” encounters. It locates cultural interpretations in any sorts of reciprocal contexts, and it obliges writers to find diverse ways of rendering negotiated realities as multisubjective, power-laden, and incongruent. In this view, “culture” is always relational, and inscription of communicative processes that exist, historically, between subjects in relations of power (Clifford & Marcus 1986: 13-15).

Being together implicates an intersubjective enactment of a time, place and relevant discussion (Fabian 1983). The anthropological knowledge gathered is then a product of our time spent together, and many examples of our coproduction will become clear throughout this thesis. Furthermore, “we can see the task of writing, ethnographic writing, as a way not just to construct a set of connections that we already assume are there, but to demonstrate that a way of getting there, a way of asking questions, is as important as a plan for anticipating answers” (Weiner 2001: xii). I had told Helen and the sensei in our first meeting that my research topic was about narratives of Japanese cultural heritage in Hawai’i, and this initial wording has mattered greatly in setting the undertone and character of our contact. Though I was trying to be open minded about the concept, my invitations to talk about it played into structured and general bias (especially by adding the ‘Japanese’), closing off potential different ones. It did not take long before I was confronted with my narrowly focused gaze on a discussion on cultural heritage. Like Doris Nakamura told me: “It's hard you know, if you pinpoint the Japanese part of me, I have to dig inside to say, how much of a Japanese am I, although by blood I am, how much do I know, they didn't inculcate, they didn't force me to learn about my history [hm]. So it's only what I've lived in a Japanese home…. that's when I really was more 'Japanesee.'” These women were smart and thoughtful in answering my questions, and would often reject to the ways in which I tried to pinpoint them (despite my good training!). In our many conversations their considerations and relativities shone through, beginning and ending sentences more than once with: “in my experience,” or, “this is only my opinion” and, “there is a good and bad to everything.” This showed me that they were reflexive when talking to me about various subjects, as well as determined to help me find whatever I was looking for.

Helen Nakano, being most ambitious for me, wanted to provide me with a full account on Japanese cultural heritage in Hawai’i. She drove me to places such as Shirokiya,5 multiple Japanese restaurants, a (former Japanese) hospital,6 The Manoa Chinese Cemetery, and the 100th Battalion clubhouse just to name a few. She arranged

5 _{A Japanese department store in Honolulu that currently is the only remnant of the expansion overseas}

of one of Japan’s oldest companies, as well as the largest retailer during the early 20th century.

6 _{The name of this hospital is the Kuakini Medical Center, run by the Kuakini Health System which}

also runs geriatric care facilities and foundation. The organization started as the Japanese Benevolent Society in 1892 and was mainly built with the many donations of Japanese immigrants as well as Japanese emperorTaishō.

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meetings with people she thought could help me with the subject, for example we had dinner with her friend Doug Kaya, who is an intercultural communication professor, and upon her request, her friend Emi Nuemura brought me to Pearl Harbor7 with her genealogy club. Helen also brought me along to places she thought might give me a general glimpse on life in Hawai’i as a citizen, for instance she took me to a political honorary luncheon for Ed Case,8 and even landed me a small interview in the Honolulu Star Advertiser about ‘accidental encounters.’9 All examples of giving me answers to my questions, as I tried to figure out what to ask them, Helen and the sensei in turn racked their brains about what to tell me. While telling each other stories we knew, others emerged. The telling of stories created an interesting and creative discussion on cultural heritage that included a wide-range of perspectives. The evolution of this discussion will be presented in this thesis, with Hanafuda Hawai'i Style as its locus.

Driving me to Japanese restaurants not only gives insight into certain ideas about cultural heritage, but also certain ideas of each other. Next to my research topic, I myself as a person was interpreted and placed. The women tried to make sense of me the same way I tried to make sense of them, and the presence of my character was received and met with equal amount of questions. To categorize myself in fair turn, the fact that I was a young female student from the Netherlands was probably significant. Seeing our bodies as symbols of difference, highlights a certain interest in one another:

The stranger is central to –even , perhaps, the central metaphor for –any discussion of the body. For the human body is the sole object in the universe of which we have both objective (“different”) and subjective (“same”) knowledge, the only thing, moreover, about which we can both lack consciousness and be maniacally self-conscious. And it is because of the singularity of this self-awareness that both the symbolism of the body and notions of how the integrity of one’s body-image boundary is maintained invariably become the arena of our most explicit statements about the strange and the foreign (Napier 1992: 141).

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Pearl Harbor is a lagoon harbor of Oahu, of which much is a U.S. Navy deep-water naval base. Pearl Harbor has been a prominent symbol of the U.S. joining WWII since the Empire of Japan attacked it in 1941. At present, some of its grounds have been reserved for stories of the war to be interpreted and honored by exhibits, memorials, and museums.

8 _{Edward Espenett, or Ed Case is an American Democratic politician who represented Hawai’i in the}

United States House of Representative from 2002 to 2007.

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See Appendix 1.

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An example of this is that Helen Hosaka once looked at me and said out of the blue: “you are the only young person we know.” “What about your grandchildren?” I asked her, to which she replied “besides them.” Next to my gender and age, my personality and status as a student was probably influential in having the women put up with me. “We would never do this if you had a bad personality!” Patsy would tell me half-jokingly, and Helen Hosaka would tell me in a serious voice: “Noëlle, don't worry about paying us back, we know you are a student, we only want to help you out because you are alone here and we'd like to think our granddaughters would also be helped on the other side of the world if they needed it.” Here, youth and relative paucity of resources may have mitigated my obligation to reciprocate in a balanced fashion (Belk 1979), my compatible personality making up for most of it. I have been lucky enough to have received much kindness in the process of Helen and the sensei trying to understand what I was doing there.

That being said, Helen Nakano’s ambitions for me were often intertwined with her ambitions for Hanafuda Hawai’i Style.10 Of all the sensei, she was the one that emphasized me as a researcher (more than a young female student in need of help). An example of her efforts situating me and my research subject can be seen in an email she sent to someone she thought meeting would be mutual beneficial.

Hi Pete,11

I had been thinking about introducing Noelle Steneker to the Pacific Buddhist Academy, as the only high school in the state founded on Buddhist principles, and I just happened to bump into your boss at City Mill this afternoon. He suggested that your seniors might gain from meeting her, and she from meeting them.

Noelle is here in Hawai’i researching Japanese culture in a multi-cultural setting. She is doing this for her Master’s thesis on Cultural Anthropology at the University of Amsterdam.

10 _{I think the idea here is that by tying Hanafuda Hawai’i Style to an academic sphere, a sophistication}

and seriousness might be gained, making it more acceptable and respected by more people.

11 _{Pete is a pseudonym, and the only one in this whole thesis I might add, as I was not able to ask him}

permission to use his real name.. The rest of the people mentioned in this thesis I was able to ask if they wanted their real names mentioned, and they were all fine (usually happy) about it.

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She has been here since the first of January and will leave at the end of March. She has been visiting various institutions and speaking to many people on this subject and contacted me last week regarding my Hanafuda project. I had her observe a program I gave at the Hawai’i Kai Public Library and also an interview I gave on the subject at Hawai’i Public Radio. Next week she will be teaching hanafuda to a small group of seniors and on Feb 11 she will be attending two events that we will be having in Hawai’i Kai and in Kalihi. She is still trying to decide what her thesis will be and I thought it would be useful for her to visit with your seniors. Would you be having any activity or in any study unit which would lend itself to some of your Seniors meeting with a European such as Noelle, coming on her own all the way to Hawai’i to conduct her independent research?

I understand from Mr. Toyama that your class meets at the Buddhist Center at the University of Hawai’i and she is presently staying at the Atherton House at the UH of Manoa so it would be convenient for her to just walk to your class at the Buddhist Center. I think it might be mutually beneficial. She can be reached at 729-2851 or you can return my email and I will ask her to contact you.

Many thanks for your consideration.

Aloha, Helen

This email is an example of how Helen interprets and explains my presence, showing her efforts of placing me appropriately. It also shows something of her character, trying to use her networking skills to get people together.

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That is why we know poetry is like bread; it should be shared by all,

by scholars and peasants,

by all our vast, incredible, extraordinary family of humanity.”

- Pablo Neruda

Shaping a Narrative: Underlying Premises

In the field, I had the advantage of not having any (or rather losing all) research questions. Continuously confused, but hopeful, I managed to identify certain themes that interested me and seemed relevant to others as well. In the words of Van Epp Salazar, “it is the theme ultimately, that will lead the researcher to broaden or to limit the scope of investigation... [and] the intent that determines the approach, and that justifies the manner in which the research is carried out” (1998: 232). There are a couple of underlying premises I would like to bring forward here, as they offered inspiration for the subject, and helped in shaping a conversation from the start, leading the way to what I wanted to discover.

The first one is a small Japanese utterance that goes like this: okaga sama de.12 Often used when replying to the question “how are you?”, it means something like: “thanks to you I'm doing well.” A good explanation of its meaning I have found:

O is an honorific meaning ‘your.’ Kage means ‘shadow’ or ‘shade.’ De means ‘because of.’ So

the meaning of okage-sama de is: ‘Because of your shadow’... It is the recognition that all life is interconnected (Reverend Dean Koyama, Mountain View Buddhist Temple) [punctuation added].13

Interpreting a discussion on cultural heritage by using this saying helps because it em-phasizes narratives of the past created in the present to meet a current situation. It here-by recognizes a “shadow” (point of reference) as a direct cause to one's own (fortunate) position, for which one may feel gratitude. In other words, it brings forward the idea of links in time. Furthermore, it acknowledges an I and a You, and settles a relationship between them. I and You are both separate, and together. A shift in perspective is articu-lated between union and division. A similar thing would be Aristotle saying “out of all one, and out of one, all” (Aristotle de Mundo 5.396b, in Bossi 2011: 14), for all the You that lie in I, there is an I in all the You. I approached the discussion on cultural heritage with this idea, and its interpretation can be found in my line of thought and questioning throughout the thesis.

12 _{I might note here that the sensei all knew this utterance, and were surprised and quite impressed with}

me knowing it. Upon telling her this was my inspiration, Helen Hosaka said to me: “are you sure you're not Japanese?”

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http://www.mvbuddhisttemple.org/ , (accessed on May 21, 2013).

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The second underlying premise that I can point out, is the belief in our urge to share treasure. The word treasure is used freely (and quite uninhibitedly) throughout the thesis, its definitions of use admittedly scarce. I use the word in an unencumbered manner on purpose, as I feel its principles are simple enough to be inspiring to this case, but too full of loopholes to be defined properly here. Let me explain. There was a wonderful conversation I had with the artist Sumako Cohn while doing fieldwork in Hawai’i. When I asked her what made her do what she did and why she made art (a seemingly stupid question to ask an artist no?), she simply replied: “This is my treasure, I share it because it's my treasure.” What a beautiful thought! I had found my title. Why? Because this answer made sense to me when thinking about Helen and her Hanafuda Hawai’i Style. For, it is also something made, and something deemed valuable, and something that is ultimately shared. The same goes for thinking about cultural heritage, where there is also a lot of making, valuing and sharing. Treasure is then created through a conversation they have with their world, a process of making meaningful what is important enough to tell others about. This thought relies on another thought, that while living in this world, we speak back to it, and make things to share with others, ultimately giving ourselves.

The third reoccurring theme, and fundament for the main argument of this thesis is thinking about a sense of time. In different ways, the concept of time comes to light and is articulated throughout the thesis. There is the coevalness of time (Fabian 1983), I spent in Hawai’i together with the sensei, there is the time in which stories were told and the time span lying within them, and the time shared by being together playing hanafuda. Especially this last point is important to the participation in a discussion on cultural heritage, for it offers us the unique perspective of seeing cultural heritage as shared time. The game of hanafuda can belong to anybody that shows up to play, and allows people to connect during the time they are together. Following Heidegger, time is not simply a mental ordering device, but an aspect of bodily involvement with the world, the one shaping the other (Gosden 1994). This idea will be further developed.



We are all born, we all die, and in between those events we have a life. We separate these facts through the experience of time. This involvement outs itself in language,

narrative, and storytelling. Words are all we have after all:

Knowledge arises from being, and is an element of our action in the world. Such a view necessitates a theory which links being and meaning. To make this link we have to be able to distinguish areas of life… Wittgenstein said that we could see beyond the limits of language, but we could not speak beyond them, and of which we cannot speak we must pass over in silence. Habitual being is a difficult area to see into or discuss. However, it is not sealed totally from sight and words and the mutual creation of people and things forms the road to follow in attempting to understand habit (Gosden 1994: 11).

This brings us to our last undercurrent mentioned: a focus on language, narrative, but most of all: storytelling. We are all part of the telling and the tales. Stories can tell us how people understand their intrinsic and external worlds. They are in the words of Fabian, “carriers of significance” (1983: xii).

Narration exemplifies one of the basic ways in which we represent the world, and the language of beginnings and endings, of turning points and crises and climaxes, is complicated with this mode of representation to so great a degree that our image of our own lives must be deeply narrational” (Coleman Danto 1985: xiii).

Before moving on to the next chapter, I would like to explain the reasons for using the word stories so much in this thesis. It is chosen quite deliberately throughout, favored over other words such as information and knowledge, (sometimes even narrative). This is not necessarily because they are so conflicting in character (all use narrative to convey meaning), but rather because the words bring with them different associations, of which the former I find more useful and stronger here. Stories lends itself to ideas of construction, imagination, and interpretation, which fits what Helen and the sensei are doing when talking about the cards or themselves. The word information brings with it associations of authoritative and bounded indisputable knowledge, which obscures the fantastic ways in which the tales are constructed and made meaningful. Ruth Behar articulates, using Walter Benjamin's distinction:

It [information] is “shot through with explanation” and it is disposable because it is forgettable. Storytelling, on the other hand, is “always the art of repeating stories,” without explanation, combining the extraordinary and the ordinary; most importantly, it is grounded in a community

of listeners on whom the story makes a claim to be remembered by virtue of its “chaste compactness,” which inspires the listener, in turn, to become the teller of the story” (Behar 1991: 228).

In the overall scheme of this research, stories are what have been given to me, and what I feel are the only thing I can give back, being as much part of the narration as Helen and the sensei. Storytelling is never simply a matter of creating either personal or social meanings, but an aspect of “the subjective in-between” in which a multiplicity of private and public interests are always problematically in play (Arendt 1998 [1958]: 182-184). “Certainly we have their story in their own words, but it isn't their story as they would of told it had they been left to themselves” (Van Epp Salazar 1998: 236). Part of larger power structures, stories can powerful, but are also limited:

While storytelling may help us reconcile fields of experience that are, on the one hand, felt to belong to ourselves or our own kind and, on the other hand, felt to be shared or belong to others, stories may just as trenchantly exaggerate differences, foment discord, and do violence to lived experience. For every story that sees the light of day, untold others remain in the shadows, censored or suppressed (Jackson 2002: 11).

This is another reason the word lends itself handy: it is characterized by the fleeting time in which it is produced, respectably staying true to what it is: a piece of time, nothing more nothing less. Stories then reflect a relationship between the time covered in narration and the time in which they are narrated. And what more is there, really? “When dealing with human events, there is no one “true vision,” and all explanations fall through at some weak, incongruous point or another (Van Epp Salazar 1998: 239). There is perhaps another, more personal reason for placing an emphasis on the word. Helen once told me that first and foremost, she is a storyteller, and when people tell you who they are, it is best to believe them. Let me tell you a story about this.

Like always, it was sunny, and Helen picked me up promptly at 07:30 in front of my dorm. In the car, she handed me her iPhone and told me which address to type in and who to call (for a seventy-five year old, she is very up to date with technology). This small gesture always made me feel somewhat pleased and important. Like a little kid who feels happy with the responsibility of pushing the ATM buttons. Holding her phone and helping her out meant that she trusted me. It meant that I was her close

accomplice. Though Helen was scheduled to talk at 09:00, she liked to leave extra early just in case we got lost or there was traffic. Plus we needed time to set up all her posters and props (or what she calls her junk). She started telling me about her friend, Johnny, who was going to meet us there. She had asked him to videotape her so that she could look back and evaluate herself. A few days earlier Helen had asked me if I would be willing to help her with this particular presentation. I of course agreed. In the car, she told me I could be like kuroko (a Japanese stagehand garbed in black). Camouflaged in costume (supposedly blending in the background), I could come from behind the posters and change the props behind her in one smooth motion. This way she wouldn't have to interrupt her talk doing it herself. But first we would have to find me a black pointy hat. Somewhat taken aback, I told her that it perhaps would be way more distracting to have a figure jump out from behind the scenes dressed head to toe in black, and starting to mess around with the decor. I could just imagine giving these people heart attacks. Had anyone complained about her presentations? No, she was just concerned with being a good presenter, and in a book on presentation skills she had read recently, it said that it was important to keep the audience engaged without turning your back on them.

Though I am making fun of Helen's request now, this story surely makes anyone realize she is serious about her storytelling. To her this means that her (spoken) presentations and (written) website both deliberately convey a somewhat playful (borderline theatrical) and accessible content. I believe the argument for this is that messages will not only be understood better, but stick better as well. In The Meaning Makers, language education professor Gordon Wells argues that “constructing stories in the mind—or story ing, as it has been called—is one of the fundamental means of making meaning; as such, it is an activity that pervades all aspects of learning… “(Wells 1986: 194). Telling stories to convey meaning creates the link between thought and feeling by using the creative imagination. The result is that meanings are better remembered because contacts of feeling go deeper and are more durable than mere contacts of thought (Szekeyly 1973). Helen tells stories enthusiastically and clearly (with repetition and side note explaining), always adapting to her audience. For her, storytelling is a way of connecting with all sorts of people in a straightforward manner. Why use difficult language and pretend to know everything? She advised me to write my thesis the same way.



This was no dust speck by my breathing blown,
 But unmistakably a living mite


With inclinations it could call its own.
 - In A Considerable Speck, by Robert Frost

In the end, the point is to bring forth an idea, namely that that okage sama de, treasure, storytelling and time make a good match in the discussion on cultural heritage because it enables us to think about ways in which people are together in time, what they share, and what they give of themselves. Taking these three underlying premises together, certain questions are motivated. How do people understand being together in time? The central research question eventually shaped is:

What unique perspective does the story of Hanafuda Hawai'i Style offer to a discussion on cultural heritage?14

In order to answer this question, the following sub-questions are formulated: 1. How is Hanafuda Hawai'i Style narrated as cultural heritage? 2. How is cultural heritage narrated? And, 3. How is Hanafuda Hawai'i Style situated in a discussion on cultural heritage? These questions will be subsequently discussed in the following three chapters, by the people that are part of the story of Hanafuda Hawai’i Style. The first chapter, Written in the Stars, will be mostly an introduction to what hanafuda is made to be in Hanafuda Hawai'i Style, hinting to most of sub-question one. A picture will be painted of hanafuda, the sensei and myself together in Hawai'i over a certain time span. The second chapter, A Collection of Short Stories, will be about the stories that surround the cards in a certain time and place. By listening to what the sensei have to say and react to, different ideas and narratives about cultural heritage will come to light. The third chapter, Hanafuda Revolution, deals with the mission aspect of Hanafuda Hawai'i Style, and the deeper meanings of Hanafuda Hawai’i Style will come to light, placing it in a discussion on cultural heritage. Taken together, it will become clear how Hanafuda Hawai'i Style may offer a unique perspective in the discussion on cultural heritage.

14 _{I have left out “in Hawai’i” because the importance of place is implied in its name.}

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2. |

Written in the Cards



Do I dare

Disturb the universe? In a minute there is time

- In The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, by T.S. Elliot

The Day I Hit Gold

Once upon a time, there was an accidental encounter. It was a regular sunny day in my second week of Hawai’ian adventure, when I happened to ask a girl standing next to me at the bus stop where the Wallmart store was. She kindly told me what stop to get off and like everybody in Hawai’i upon meeting, she asked me if and from where I was visiting. I answered and returned her the question. She told me her name was Deirdre Mulvihill from Rhode Island and that she was studying Japanese at UH (University of Hawai’i). I told her about my research subject, and soon we were giving each other our life stories and discussing Japanese people over coffee. She taught me how to distinguish the Japanese tourists from Japanese locals. “Besides the most obvious signs: the camera and the language”, she said, “the tourists wear long dresses over shirts and carry parasols, but the locals wear either dresses or shirts and are tan.” I asked her if she knew of any Japanese culture clubs that would be willing to spend time with me. She mentioned her bon music class, her tea-ceremony club, and then suddenly remembered a group of local women she had met about a year ago. She told me they were busy promoting some sort of Japanese card game called hanafuda, and they had been so enthusiastic about it that she was sure they would be willing to talk to me. Willing to talk? A game? This sounded like music to my ears. I love games and so does my family. Researching a group that is focused around a game would be almost serendipitous. Soon after getting an address from Deirdre, I sent the person in charge an e-mail titled 'cultural heritage project:'

Dear madam, sir,

Through a friend, I came to hear about your business and enthusiasm about the game Hanafuda. I became very interested in this, because I am doing a small research project on Japanese cultural heritage in Hawai’i for my MA thesis.

I don't know if you ever have the time for it, but if you would like to, I would love to talk to you about your Hanafuda mission. My project is focused on Japanese cultural heritage in multicultural spaces, and I think your cards are a perfect example of how this subject can play out for people.

I hope you don't mind me approaching you, but my friend assured me it would be all right. Thank you so much beforehand for your reply.

Best wishes, Noëlle Steneker

This is what I got back the very next day:

Hi Noelle,

Wonderful. What I suggest you do is come to my events in the next coming weeks and watch what is going on. Talk to my sensei, talk to participants, I have lots of written materials of past interviews which I will give you----and then, I think, you will get a better idea about the kinds of questions you want to ask. When is your research project due?

This Saturday, I will be doing a presentation at the Hawai’i Kai Public Library from 10:30 to 12:30. After that, my sensei (teachers) and I will be going out to have lunch nearby. You are welcome to join us as my guest. You will get to talk to about six sensei and get their views. There will be a couple of high school teachers with some students who are spreading hanafuda. Perhaps you can corner them too. I will have a busy week starting on Feb 6 so if you are too busy to join us this Saturday, you can join me at any or all of the following presentations:

1) Country Club Seniors at Ala Puumalu District Park at 9:30 am Mon, Feb 6

2) Kokohead Rec. District program at the former Wailupe Elementary School from 9 to 11:30 on Tuesday, Feb 7 and again on Friday, 9 to 11:30 on Friday, Feb 10

3) on Saturday, you have your choice of : a) Hawai’i Kai Retirement Community starting at 9:30 am where we will be having the residents play with Kaiser High School students

or b) Jikoen Hongwanji Temple at 12 noon to 2:00 where we will be having a Hanafuda Fun Day sponsored by the Japanese Women's Society Foundation.

I think it would be much better for you to participate in a few of these events than to interview me. I may give you a very slanted view (my view) of what is going on and what is actually happening versus what other people see as happening or not happening.

If you like what is happening, why don't you submit it to the Japan American Society. I think this is what they are all about.

Much aloha, Helen

Feeling rather ecstatic upon receiving such a message, I accepted her invitation greedily. Here was a person who was taking up the role of gatekeeper! Not only was she giving me access to people, materials, and activities, she positioned me as a researcher and understood the importance of collecting different views. This first contact was an anthropologists dream come true. More than that, the email set the stage for the give and take which would be my fieldwork, as well as my friendship with Helen and the other sensei. As the e-mail shows, our roles and obligations toward one another were being considered by both of us from the start. This is important to mention because it is crucial to understanding the constructed 'knowledgeable discussion' ultimately being presented. Whatever Helen was saying in her email was a response to me, and both of us carry armfuls of assumptions, prejudices, preconceived ideas and loads of opinions we care to share. The making of anthropological knowledge happens in this very interaction and conversation. It requires not just what we observe, encounter, converse with, analyze, explain and interpret, those whom we study, “but that we confront each other, in the initial stages and again when we present our findings, sometimes many years later” (Fabian 2012: 447). Why? So we won’t be as blinded for the larger world we are part of, the inherent political nature of the discipline, the fact that all knowledge, however convincing, is agonistic. The importance of intersubjectivity cannot be stressed enough, however, the tradition in anthropology of denying coevalness to the Other has been longstanding (Fabian 1983). The unreflected tendency to construct and instrumentalize anthropological objects as embodiments of past times whereby cultures and civilizations are understood as linear and evolutionary, started being heavily critiqued in the 1970’s and 80’s (Clifford 1988; Fabian 1983; Marcus and Fischer 1986; Rosaldo 1989). The role of intersubjectivity in anthropological study has been reexamined and articulated ever since, resigning from a positivist-pragmatist ethos (Clifford & Marcus 1986;

Fabian 1983; Hymes 1972). “One’s ethnographic understanding of others is never arrived at in a neutral or disengaged manner, but is negotiated and tested in an ambiguous and stressful field of interpersonal relationships in an unfamiliar society” (Jackson 1998: 5). In fact, ethnographic knowledge can actually rest solely on intersubjective realities:

In anthropological investigations, objectivity lies neither in the logical consistency of a theory, nor in the givenness of data, but in the foundation (Begründung) of human intersubjectivity …

Objectivity in anthropological investigations is attained by entering a context of communicative

interaction through the one medium which represents and constitutes such a context: language (Fabian 2002 [1983]: 9 – 12) [emphasis original].

That Sunday, I went to meet Helen at the Hawai’i Kai library, to play hanafuda for the first time. Stepping into the basement-like room where the presentation was being held, I could see hanafuda flags decorating the walls, and standing between them about fifty people. Most were older women, but there were also younger children and families. I asked a woman standing by the door for Helen Nakano and was sent to the front. Tables and chairs set up in groups of six faced four posters on easels depicting the cards. Stepping from behind a poster, I needed no pointing out who Helen was, this was the woman in charge. Her shaped eyebrows and high cheek bones exuded authority, and her neatly ironed kimono wrap blouse and big smile gave way her motivation and positive energy. Because of her age (seventy-five), she also looked like a grandmother, and to me this idea made her seem less intimidating to approach (as grandmothers are (usually) loving and caring figures where I come from). I felt our age difference gave me the advantage of taking on the role as ‘granddaughter’ (or at least young protégée), and solicit friendly grandmotherly feelings (or at least sympathetic considerations). As I came closer and introduced myself, I could see that the pictures on her blouse were little hanafuda cards. She seemed happy to see me, but when I confessed to not knowing the game, she gave a small frown. Then assuring me she said: “Well that is why you are here.” Taking a seat at a table in front, I joined two women in their seventies and two girls in their teens. Helen started her presentation by asking us who had ever heard of hanafuda. The small cardboard cards with depictions of different flowers on it looked foreign to me, but the older ladies at my table told me they had played the game when they were younger. Helen told us about her business, Hanafuda Hawai'i Style, and

explained its mission of bringing generations closer together. She ended with telling us all about the history and the symbolism of the cards, and then it was time to learn the game ourselves. Each table was assigned a sensei, who would teach us, and it took about two or three games till we got the hang of it. When the workshop was over, Helen invited me to have lunch with her sensei and some high school students who were also involved with the hanafuda mission. The students left early, leaving Helen Nakano, myself and the four sensei: Helen Hosaka, Patsy Tsukamoto, Naomi Ohta, and Rosemary Nishi. Sitting at the table of the fast food burrito restaurant Taco Bell, chatting with and listening to these women, I knew that I had hit gold. They told me to call them auntie, a common used honorific for unrelated elders in Hawai’i. This was a positive sign. To call someone “auntie” or “uncle” in Hawai’i, is to communicate endearment and respect along with an implied familial bond, emphasizing the importance of o'hana (family). The titles refer to a flexible notion of kinship in Hawai’i which is social and extends beyond traditional bloodlines, claiming cross-community loyalties (Baumann 1995; Handy & Pukui 1972). Jokingly, the women kept telling me: “Don’t call us grandmother or we won’t adopt you!” Why would they want to adopt me? Later when I asked this question the general reply was that they liked me and didn’t mind helping me out, they were interested in me just as I was interested in them. For Helen of course, an academic research also meant good PR for her hanafuda movement.

Joking about the term ‘grandmother,’ ‘auntie’ being the preferable term, suggests positive and negative associations. Perhaps the age factor plays a large role here, ‘grandmother’ covering several negative connotations (such as old, fragile, tired, old fashioned?), that these women do not feel describes them properly. The term ‘auntie’ might cover a broader field of associations, including more positive ones (such as youth, energy, independence and strength), all things they would consider themselves (and justifiably I might add). I was taken aback how loud and brazen these women were and I liked it a lot. Openly, they talked about their lives, the hanafuda project, and how they all met. They told me they all grew up in Hawai’i and had Japanese ancestry, two of them were issei (second-generation), and four of them were sansei (third-generation). Helen Nakano told me that these women were her core group, with her from the start. They were all part of Helen’s hanafuda mission for different reasons. Patsy said she did it mostly for friendship, it was a way to get together with friends and catch up. Alyson said she put in the effort because she believed in the mission, and felt good helping it

gain force. Helen Hosaka addressed Helen Nakano's ambitious spirit: “she always recruits her loved ones for different causes she takes up” she said. “So the hanafuda project was not the first?” I asked her. “No, no, there were many others before this one!” The sensei started thinking back aloud. There was the investment club, the environmental water project in Manoa (Helen's neighborhood),15 a children's book,16 a politician, and so on and so forth. Hanafuda was just the next thing. “When I see Helen's name on my caller ID,” Helen Hosaka jokes, “I think oh what does she want now!” Everyone starts laughing. “But we always help because we believe in her.” I start to realize there are strong friendships in this group. The women review today’s workshop and discuss how Helen's presentation went. They each give their feedback on how the next hanafuda workshop could be improved, and go over the arrangements that are to be made. When they complain about the students not being assertive enough when teaching the game, I give them my two-cents by saying it is hard for young people to be authoritative towards older people because they are not used to taking on this role. They seem to appreciate the comment. Hanafuda's dark past is brought up, and I am surprised when Helen Nakano says that associations to gambling caused the Japanese upper-class to be snobbish towards the game. “Some women look at me like I'm crazy and ask me if I'm spreading yakuza (Japanese mafia)!”, she says smiling, “But I like their reactions because it means I can change their minds. I tell them about hanafuda's good side.” Rosemary tells us about her attempt to spread the cards back in Japan. At a baseball game, she approached some of the players with a deck, but was waved off quickly. “They looked at me as if I were out of my mind” she says, “what would a respectable old woman like me be doing promoting hanafuda?” The conversation then turned to my project, and myself. Intrigued by me coming from so far away a place, they asked me

15 _{When this project came up, Patsy said: “I helped out with that, and I don't even live in Manoa!”} 16 _{Helen told me about this project, and it is interesting to mention here because it shows how political}

stories can be. If I remember correctly, a large electric company in Hawai'i wanted to build on a ridge close to Manoa. There was severe protesting from people who lived in the neighborhood, environmentalists and others who felt the view should not be ruined by electric constructions (today in Hawai'i, there are many laws against building on ridges). Helen was fiercely active in the movement against the electric company, and when she found out about a Hawai'ian myth that has one of its heroes cursed to live his life as a stone ridge, she got an author and illustrator to make the story into a children's book. Though there were many versions of the story (mentioning different ridges, or no ridge at all), this story was obviously chosen to strengthen their fight against the electric company and it worked. The ridge became a sacred site of “cultural heritage,” and was saved from building projects.

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many questions about my upbringing, agreeing that my parents were very liberal for letting me off on my own. It was a good thing I had met them they said, because they would help me out.



but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.

- Matsuo Basho

A Birthday to Remember

We are driving through the Ko’olau mountain range towards Kaneohe Bay. It is my birthday, and Helen is taking my mother and me out to celebrate. The car smells sweet from the nā lei we are wearing around our necks. Helen made them for the occasion herself using fragrant yellow puakenikeni flowers from her garden. We were going to do some sightseeing up the windward coast, my mother is visiting and it is a must do on the island, but the heavy fog chases us inland and turn north instead. Helen says we will go for plan B, which is a boat ride. I enjoy the scenic route from the backseat. The heavy rainfalls of this past week have caused an overflow of water and created the magnificent sight of white misty lines falling between green folds of volcanic mountain. I have been on the island of Oahu for two months now, and the mountains remain my

favorite thing to look at. I make sure to point out the extra beautiful ones to my mother. After taking some turns off the Pali highway, we pull up in a driveway and park

in front of a garage with a colorful birthday sign on it. From inside a big house comes laughter, and there are faces peeking out the window and doorway. We obey the polite sign hanging in front the door before entering (“please remove your slippers mahalo“). Helen Hosaka, Patsy, Alyson, Emi, and Cathe, plus some women I don’t know, welcome us with belting out the happy birthday song. How surprised and grateful I am! There is hugging and joy, and my mother, who is visiting me from Holland and who is enthusiastically capturing the happy moments on camera (“Noëlle you made great friends!” ), is introduced. I meet Vel, Doris and Eloise. Overwhelmed, I stutter thanks. “Thank you,” they say, “for giving us a good reason to get together and have a good time!

Photo 2.1. Ribbons of water streaming down the Ko’olau mountains. Photo courtesy of KITV.com.

Photo 2.2. Helen and me standing in front of the birthday banner and hanafuda flags (Kaneohe,

March 2012).

The large house is Cathe’s mother in-law's, and it is most prettily situated right on the edge of the water. The party takes place in the kitchen and overlooks the spacious yard (decorated with hanafuda flags of course) and the bay. Colorfully laid out on the kitchen island there is a special birthday potluck, bowls and platters with chicken, greens, brown rice, tofu, salad, and lomilomi salmon. Three tables are set, and on each stands a small pink and orange hand sanitizer with a bow. This is a sure sign of a hanafuda game, for Helen keeps sanitizers with the cards together in clear plastic boxes to use before playing.17 Another sign pointing to a game of hanafuda is the table in the corner of the room covered with small prizes (also, birthday presents!). Helen often has prizes for the winners at her hanafuda tournaments, usually when there are kids involved. Small things like balloons, kites and Burger King gift cards act as an invitation to some

Photo 2.3. Serving the potluck (from left to right): Helen Nakano, Helen Hosaka (barely visible

behind her is Cathe Wong), Doris Nakamura, Naomi Ohta, Patsy Tsukamoto, Vel Ushijima, Emi Uemura and Alyson Kimura (Kaneohe, March 2012).

17

Actually, carrying hand sanitizer around seems to be popular in Hawai’i, and I have seen many of them strapped onto peoples bags functioning almost like an accessory. Upon asking my Hawai’ian roommate why they were so popular, she answered she didn’t know, they just suddenly were.

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friendly competition. Amongst the pickings for today are cookies, rice cakes, and some potted herbs that Cathe had left over from a wedding shower. Just like at the hanafuda workshops, we make name tags.

First, we eat. Serving ourselves, Helen Nakano tells me not to eat like a bird because it is insulting to the chefs. I wasn't planning to, and pile a little of everything on my plate. Helen Hosaka insist my mother sit with her, Doris and Vel. She has been looking forward to meeting her. Because Helen Nakano always tells me to mingle (in other words not to sit with her), I sit at the other table with Cathe, Naomi, and Emi. Naomi and Cathe are active sensei and Emi is a recent contact of Helen’s mission. Naomi is one of the younger sensei, and came in touch with the hanafuda project a few years ago through Helen's yoga class. She was drawn to the mission of connecting good cause. She is one of the few sensei who is not from Japanese descent, her ancestors being Portuguese and Chinese. Emi is not an official sensei, but has helped Helen’s cause in other ways. A few days earlier she took me to Pearl Harbor with her genealogy club. She loves taking pictures and later makes a photo album for me from the birthday party. During lunch we chat, and Naomi and Emi ask me questions about my studies while Cathe (being the hostess), gets up to help people find the dishwasher and the bathroom. We talk about the foggy weather and the “green” drink that Helen Nakano brought. Like Helen, the beverage is very health conscious, but its color scares some people off. After generous second servings, we all help clean up and get ready for a dessert of a coconut cake and three kinds of ice cream. Helen yells: “speech, speech!”, and I happily oblige, thanking them again. Then people give me presents. Helen gives me a hanafuda themed mug and her hanafuda presentation on tape. “So you can analyze me!”, she says. What a great comment to show her designation of my role as professional observer. In fact, the gift-giving on my birthday is an interesting situation where the perceptions of them (the donors) and me (the recipient) were being expressed publicly. Helen's gifts for example are linked to her project and their content suggest an analysis of its scope of meaning. The gift is used to indicate the relative importance of the role (Sherry 1983). When thinking about the symbolic encoding of the gift with connotative meaning, not just ourselves but our intentions and ideas were reflected as well (Sherry 1983; Neisser 1973). Cathe gives me an aloha nightlight (“to remember Hawai’i”), and Alyson gives me cards she made herself using a Japanese card making

technique (“this is my therapy”). Helen Hosaka gives me a kimono jacket (“it's meant for an older person but nobody will know the difference in Holland”), Japanese handkerchiefs (“everyone has them in Japan”), and the book Kokoro,18 which is filled with Japanese traditions from Hawai’i (Helen Nakano remarks here: “there is no hanafuda in there!”). I also get candies and rice cakes. The fact that most presents were ‘Japanese’ is not a coincidence. Gifts are, to use the words of Levi-Strauss: “good to think with”, as they are commodities that make the categories of culture (seem) stable and visible (1969). This means that “they can facilitate role modeling by transmitting an already articulated set of social values or by structuring a new set of expectations” (Sherry 1983: 159). The symbolic dimension of these objects can be understood as action sequence with an interpretive dimension of expressive statements in the

Photo 2.4. Collecting the last points (from left to right): Eloise Yano, Doris Nakamura, Helen

Hosaka, and Lisa Wildy-Steneker (Kaneohe, March 2012).

18 _{Literally translated, kokoro means ‘from the heart.’ The book was written and compiled by the}

Japanese Women Association of Hawai’i in order to present a collection of Japanese cultural practices in Hawai’i. The book is educational and directed mostly towards children.

27

management of meaning (Sherry 1983; Schieffelin 1980). It is an everyday enactment of cultural heritage (shall we call it Japanese-Hawai’ian-Aloha spirited cultural heritage?), and I am part of its evocation and consideration. Our performance of cultural heritage is a highly political construction, understood here as something desirable as it is created upon the awareness of my expressed interest in “their cultural heritage” and their desire to help and provide me with seemingly suitable material. You could say then that researcher expectations are encoded in my hanafuda cup (Analyze this!), but more than that, it is an invitation to partnership (Van Baal 1975). I was invited to think about Helen’s hanafuda project, and my own project of cultural heritage at the same time. I was invited to create (knowledge) together now. It is time to play hanafuda. Helen Nakano tells us all what to do. In teams of two, we will be playing three rounds, the winning teams will receive prizes and team up against each other. I team up with Cathe and play against Naomi and Emi. Still learning myself, I leave it up to Cathe to

Photo 2.5. The birthday crowd (from left to right): Alyson Kimura, Helen Hosaka, Emi Uemura,

Doris Nakamura, me, my mother Lisa Wildy-Steneker, Helen Nakano, Patsy Tsukamoto, Eloise Yano, Naomi Ohta, and Cathe Wong (Kaneohe, March 2012).