at about four o'clock and by five they took their seats, squatting on the matted floor. Women dressed gaily for the occasion came in with earthenware bottles of heated "swipes" and passed the liquor around. The tiny cups were usually held between the fingers of the left hand for pouring, and were passed around from one to another. Such exchange of cups was considered conducive to good fellowship, and woe to the one who refused a proffered cup! The women with the steaming liquor floated about here and there urging the men to imbibe more freely by filling empty receptacles. Food was taken liberally as it was supper time. They were well satisfied with the rare, tasteful products of the mountain and sea and everyone marvelled at the "kalua pig." Almost all who had tasted pig prepared in this manner for the first time nodded approval. Contrary to reports that natives ate only poi and salted salmon, this dish was a whole lot more appetizing than their own way of eating pork. They would henceforth "live seventy-five days longer" now that they had eaten something novel.
At a moment when everyone had the edge of his hunger dulled, and the bride and groom had taken their seats, the toastmaster of the evening stood up and announced amidst hand claps, "We are convened tonight to celebrate the wedding of our community leader, Mr. Seikichi Arata. That so many have assembled from varied distances bespeaks well the sentiments with which his friends regard him. On this happy occasion that comes only once in the lifetime of a man and woman, we shall begin the formal part of the ceremony with the time-honored chant of the Takasago by our venerable Mr. Saito."
Gray-haired and solemn-faced for the occasion, Saito straightened his curving back, and in a sitting posture roared out from the depth of his abdomen, a monotonous chant the rhythm of which had been handed down almost without alteration for seven hundred years.
"Waves of the four seas are stilled,
Even the branches of trees fail to bend,
Peace eternal reigns undisturbed,
The twin pines of Aioi symbolically stand,
To bless the good fortune and prosperity of people,
Who dwell under a sovereign so beneficent."
Saito was not very good. His facial muscles worked in contortions. He became flushed and his words were hardly intelligible. But the deep tone of his voice was different from the ordinary, and it did lend dignity to the program.
Like the Tannenbaum of Germany, the evergreen pine stood for longevity and everlasting troth among the common people. The twin pines of Aioi symbolized eternal faith. The legend is that this ballad was written by a priest from the famous shrine of Aso in Kumamoto who made a pilgrimage to Yedo in prehistoric or mythological Japan and on his way came to a place called Aioi. Here he met a gray-haired, dignified man and his wife. The two had apparently aged gracefully, for while they swept the grounds cleanly around the two gigantic pine trees that stood near the highway, they exuded a feeling of calm and peace to the passersby. The priest was filled with reverence and talked to the aged people. He was commended for his piety in return and was instructed to make a pilgrimage to the shrine nearby on his return trip. After bidding them goodbye and going a short way, the priest looked back and discovered the couple gone from the scene. They were, he concluded, the spirits of the twin pines that graced the roadside. In deep awe, he incorporated this incident in his travelogue which he called Takasago.
The above excerpt had been chanted for many centuries at weddings in order to wish peace, happiness, and conjugal faith to the newlyweds. Young people starting on a new voyage of life would need a happily married pair like the couple of Aioi to act as preceptors and advisors. For to "become gray together" signified a mellow marital state after raising a brood of healthy children and enjoying the remaining span of life leisurely and wisely. For this purpose, an old pair happily married for many years would be the ideal. But in a village such as Makaweli, Obasan and her husband would perhaps fill the requirement. So at this announcement they acted as the official "go-between" in Hawaii. It fell to Mr. Fukuda as the official matchmaker to present the bride and groom. With a short biographical narrative he introduced the bride and groom amidst the resounding applause of the assembled throng.
Standing with her husband as they were being presented, Haru felt embarrassed and small, and the tight obi seemed to stifle her breathing. She was conscious of the hundreds of eyes being curiously fastened upon her. Never in her life had she felt such stage fright. It seemed an eternity until she automatically bowed her upper torso in sincere humility and all was over. She sat down but kept her eyes fixed on the table. She half listened to the rather lengthy speech of congratulations by a deep-voiced man who spoke in behalf of the guests. Disclosing his past as a student of the Chinese classics, he profusely used words not in common usage. The speech of thanks rendered by one of Arata's intimate friends in behalf of the host was crisp, short, and to the point.
After this formal portion of the program came to an end and the men began making merry, Mrs. Fukuda led Haru back to her room and let her lie down in a more comfortable kimono. That part being over it was not necessary for her to appear in the midst of the drunken orgy for some were sure to get really drunk and behave in an unruly manner. Those men not used to drinking regularly fell under the influence of alcohol rather quickly. The groom had to stand his ground against the barrage of drinking cups that had to be emptied and returned. Thoughtfully, a woman shoved a bowl under his table and he poured the greater part of the proffered liquor into it. Meanwhile a housewife brought along a samisen, the three-stringed Japanese guitar, and singing started. The latest song hits about the China War were sung lustily, with the whole party joining in with rhythmical clapping to keep up the fervor and cadence.
Japan has declared war on China,
The Imperial fleet out of Shinagawa steam,
Leading is Azuma, the flagship,
Followed by Kongo and Naniwa.
CHAPTER 7
The Eldest Son
ALMOST EVERY TWO OR THREE YEARS, Mrs. Arata was with child and she was a mother of five in no time. Being of sturdy stock, the dual role of storekeeper and mother did not affect her very much. From morning till night she worked hard. There was little time for her to relax or enjoy herself. Like all pioneering women, her life was swamped and buried under the daily routine of cooking, washing, and attending to customers. She was active and pleasant. She was happy with the growing children, and the expanding business gave her impetus and the will to work. More and more people came to Kauai, for wages on the plantations increased and money floated about freely. Occasionally, she would become homesick for her native Mitajiri and its seasonal festive gaiety, but lately there was much activity in Kauai which made her forget such nostalgic cravings. All in all, she adapted herself to Hawaiian life very quickly and considered herself fortunate in having made the decision to come to this distant land.
Her eldest and pride of her flock was her son Sadao. To have had a son for the first child was not the best arrangement she could have wished for as a busy mother. A girl would have rendered her life much easier as she would have had a helper about the house to aid her in the daily routine and in the care of little ones that arrived regularly. But as the first child was a boy (aside from the natural attachment between mother and son, there seems to be a biological affinity between parents and offspring of different sexes) there was the peculiar satisfaction she felt during her initial puerperal period. One has to be an Oriental mother to bask in this contentment: a feeling like riding atop the world. Next to a barren wife, life was most miserable for one who could not bring forth a male child to perpetuate the family name. She earned for herself a rightful place in the eyes of the ancestors.
To her, the red-faced, wrinkled infant that lay so helpless at her side was more than her flesh and blood. He seemed to incarnate in his wriggling body the hopes and frustrations of myriads of his ancestors.
