Aunty Dora Kalihi Akina, 85, was the oldest dancer participating in the Polynesian Cultural Center's Moanikeala Hula Festival on January 19 as a member of Kela Miller's group, Halau Hula 'O Kekela…and she looked very good out there.

It's a family thing, of sorts: Akina was born in Honolulu, lived on the Big Island for seven years, and then moved to Laie in 1930 as a child where she was adopted by the Kaio family.

"Laie School at that time had up to sixth grade, and then you go to Kahuku," said Akina, who has lived in Hauula since 1980. "And Kahuku at that time only had up to ninth grade."

Akina said she worked "hoe hana" at the sugar plantation, then in the pineapple cannery every summer; "and after that I got married" to the late George Akina Jr. of Laiemalo'o. The couple eventually had eight children.

She also worked at IGA in Hauula and Kahuku Superette — "for 75 cents an hour," and retired over 20 years ago as a custodian at Hauula Elementary School.

Perhaps more amazing, Miller's great-grandmother, Luika Pele Kaio, a noted kumu hula, gave Akina her first instruction in the dance soon after the girl moved here. She recalled Kaio would crack a whip when the girls giggled. "It was scary, but that's discipline. We practiced outside in the yard. She didn't hit you. It was a warning you better listen."

"We had about 20 students, and we used to dance for the Hukilau when we were trying to make money to build the [Lanihuli Street Laie] chapel.

"When Kela started teaching again about five years ago, I started dancing again," Akina continued. "Kela's one is modern. When I first learned from her great-grandma, it was different: You doing motion, you just stay in one place. You're shaking your hips, but in one place."

She particularly remembered practicing the "break: They put you up to the wall, and your shoulders have to be straight. They claimed a good hula dancer don't shake the shoulders — only the hips. That's what I learned from Kela's great-grandmother."

"Also, you don't have too much of that [hip-rolling] motion, ami. She don't teach the ami; she don't like the ami. There was another hula instructor from Kahana: He does ami all over from the beginning."

Almost eight decades later Akina said today's modern hula auana is "any old way, but I love it." Friend and neighbor Diane Ah Nin makes sure Aunty Dora gets to weekly practice. "We're best of friends. We hele all over; and when it's time for competition, or have to dance for somebody, they make it twice a week."

Ah Nin, a runner for the halau, explained the dancers have to provide their own costumes, "but you have to remember, when you dance with Kela, Kela does not charge. That's unusual. It's an understanding that you buy your implements," which usually cost over $100.

Aunty, however, still has all of her original implements. "Some is from my mom, who used to dance for Hukilau."

Asked what she likes most about hula today, Akina quickly replied, "Getting out of the house. As long as Kela's there to teach us, I'll try."

She admitted, however, she's felt like quitting. "I'm too old. The audience wonders what that old lady is doing up there."

"I like hula, but I have no Hawaiian blood. I'm Chinese-Japanese, but I was adopted by Hawaiians. As I grew up in Laie, Kela's great-grandmother recruited me to dance. You don't pay. From that time to this, it's free. Kela's teaching it for free. When she opens up her new section for little children, then I'll take my great-grandchildren, too. They're about four."

"It is an honor and a privilege to have Aunty Dora dance with us, because of my great-grandmother," Miller responded. "Any kumu hula would want her in her halau. She's an icon in my halau."

When Aunty Dora is not dancing, she said she goes to senior citizens "every day when they're open," enjoys participating in Ko'olauloa Hawaiian Civic Club activities and also helps with the Na Kamalei-K.E.E.P. book projects.

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