Greater Seattle's Hawaiian population keeps island culture and traditions alive

The rain was pouring outside the Emerald Queen Casino, but inside, past the smoky card tables, a little Hawaii blossomed. Palm trees and leaves enveloped the mike stands while hula dancers took the stage. And the fans — in muumuus, leis and Hawaiian shirts — were hugging, screaming and waving hang-tens.

Washington is a second home for many Hawaiians. And events like the recent Keali'i Reichel concert at the Emerald Queen serve as family reunions.

"It's just like home," said Kamu Kalilikane, 24, who moved more than a year ago from Oahu to University Place.

The state has one of the highest populations of Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders in the nation, following Hawaii and California, with much of the population concentrated in the Seattle metropolitan area. The Census Bureau estimates that there are 46,000 Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders in Washington. According to Rochelle delaCruz, publisher of the Northwest Hawai'i Times, 17,491 people migrated from Hawaii to the area from 1995 to 2000.

Many, like Kalilikane, who came to work for the military, came seeking jobs, education and affordable lifestyles. And apparently, most have stayed. Stephen Gomes, host of the "Hawaii Radio Connection," a popular show on Bellevue community radio station KBCS-FM (91.3), says no Hawaiians he's known have moved back due to the rain.

Many create their version of home here with all its comforts: food, friends and family. In addition to Hawaiian newspaper and radio, there's Hawaiian TV. There's even a city named after a Hawaiian fur trader, Kalama, and the area's tribe, Nisqually, has members with both Native American and Hawaiian blood.

"People [who come] from Hawaii are surprised how many people from Hawaii are [already] living here," said Gomes, 46. He came from Kauai to Renton in 1991. "Every time I drive on the freeway, I see cars with the Hawaiian decals ... When we have functions, oh my gosh, it's choke [full] with people."

That was the case at a recent Ho'olaule'a, a mini block party mirroring ones in Hawaii, which has taken place twice a year for the past 10 years in the Seattle area. Hundreds of Hawaiians gathered at Chief Leschi School in Puyallup, and there were lots of reminders from home: from the island bumper stickers on cars in the parking lot to the roast pig served up in the school cafeteria.

"For people that are just moving from Washington to Hawaii, this helps them to be able to cope with being in the mainland, because once they come here, [they realize] 'Whoa, I belong. There are people there,' " said Sharmayne Schilling, president of Lokahi 'Ohana O Hawai'i, the nonprofit that organizes these festivals. "Everyone that has come here for the first time, they find they are related to someone, or [find] an old classmate, or an old co-worker."

In the late '80s, Bobby Nakihei remembers there were hardly any Hawaiians in the area, then there was suddenly a bump. Several restaurants popped up, along with canoe clubs and hula schools.

"A lot of people move here, and the first thing they want to know is — is there a place we can eat Hawaiian food? Is there a place you can buy Hawaiian stuff?," said Nakihei, 52, who arrived in 1989. If they don't find what they're looking for, sometimes they start their own business. Nakihei started Bobby's Hawaiian Style Restaurant in Everett eight years ago. The eatery, complete with its palm-tree carpeting, will be highlighted on the Food Network as a part of the show "Diners, Drive-ins and Dives" on Oct. 29.

The place to buy all things Hawaiian is the Hawai'i General Store in the University District. Inside there's everything from luau decorations to home décor — from the gimmicky to the refined. When owner Gail Stringer first came to Seattle from Honolulu 15 years ago, she struggled to find authentic and affordable leis to give away as presents. So she decided to sell them instead and created the store around it. Now 10 years old, the store has become a central hub for the community.

"One of the upsides of being far away from home and something you love is everyone tends to bond together and the differences we may have had in Hawaii" go away, said Stringer, 41. Those "differences" include Hawaii's many ethnic divisions and even rival high schools.

One thing that helps unify Hawaii's expatriates, and connect them to home, is the "coconut wireless" — an informal telephone network.

When Jon Burgess came from Kauai to establish a satellite church from Hawaii, folks from home started getting on the coconut wireless, calling sons, daughters and cousins attending UW or living in the area to attend the church.

"The coconut wireless really helped us get connected with a lot of the people living here but really weren't comfortable in any other churches because the other churches didn't feel like home," said Burgess, 32, whose New Hope church is an extension of the New Hope Oahu church and offers a hula ministry. His goal is to spread the Hawaiian notion of aloha (loving kindness) and ohana (family) to Seattle — a city known to be nice on the outside but harder to reach further in.

"Even though that was the reputation of the city, I still had a hunch that there were a lot of people like me that lived here, that wanted something more real, and something more authentic and substantial in a relationship," said the pastor whose congregation in Shoreline is a diverse one, with 30 percent having direct ties to the islands.

And as the population of Hawaiians grows in Washington, so does the number of generations born here away from home.

"Almost every summer we go back [to Hawaii] and see our family and I miss it a lot up here, so we try to stay as close to Hawaii as we can," said Kehaulani Calivo, a 14-year-old from Lynnwood, who practices hula and canoe paddling.

Her father, Butch Calivo, president of the Everett canoe club Hui Wa'a O Puget Sound, added, "This is our home away from home."

So much so that at the end of Reichel's concert, he asked everyone to join hands, like family, and sing the Hawaiian state song together.

"There's so many of us that you just never know when somebody from home will just sneak up from behind ya," said Kalilikane, the Oahu transplant.

Marian Liu: 206-464-3825 or mliu@seattletimes.com