E Komo Mai!

Aloha Kakou! My name is Karen Welsh, the creator of Big Island Blog. I'm an award-winning editor and journalist who is interested in any and all news that affects the people of the Hawai'i and around the world. If you like what you see, please pass this site to a friend. Mahalo!

Interesting Islanders

Meet Guy Brocklebank

Sometimes you meet people at the end of the road. Perhaps a job has run its course. A person's health has failed. Someone has graduated.
That's how I met 47-year-old Kona resident Guy Brocklebank. He was at the end of a very long road. A dead end road.
There he sat, wheelchair bound, at the edge of hardened lava that covers the end of Chain of Crater's Road at Hawaii Volcano National Park.
It was impossible for Guy, a victim of Multiple Sclerosis, to make the final steps of the journey to see the lava pouring into the ocean. Yet, there he sat, waiting for a friend. He was happy and content, watching hundreds of people walking back and forth over the sea of blackened mounds of pahoehoe.
I introduced myself before pulling up a portable chair to sit with him. We chatted about life, waiting for the waning sun to sleep. As the sky grew darker, the bright fuchsia steam, where water and fresh lava met at the shoreline, grew intense. Soon red dots from the flow began to appear on the steep pali, and another softer pink glow appeared from the mouth of the vent high above.
Then Guy said something profound. Something I will never forget.
"When I think about the lava," Guy mused, "I think about what is underneath. There's always more than you can see."
As the stars began to pop open in the night sky, revealing the lovely Southern Cross, I learned Guy, a native upstate New Yorker, moved to Hawaii seven years ago to get away from the harsh winters. Physically he had reached a dead end. He needed a moderate climate to ease the pain of his debilitating disease.
While in New York he was a factory worker, dutifully making the film that helps line bags of chips and other food items.
Then the MS struck nine years ago and Guy needed to find a way to survive. He needed to find a new road to continue his journey. That led him to the land of aloha.
And, he's been smiling ever since.
"It's been great living in Hawaii," Guy said. "I laugh at all the people back home when they call and say it is 20 degrees below zero. It's cold, cold, cold."
Guy said he tries to stay active. He loves to travel around and enjoy the natural beauty of the island.
"My passion in life is not getting any worse than I am and being happy," he explained.
The last I saw of Guy, he was wheeling himself back down the long, pitch black road leading to the parking lot. He had no light to guide his way. I became sad, reminiscing about one moment of our conversation when Guy admitted he hasn't made many friends on the island. Perhaps it's the wheelchair. Perhaps it's the MS. Perhaps it's not knowing what's around the next curve in his life.
One thing is for certain, however. There's a lot going on underneath. More than the eyes can see. This guy, named Guy, is worth getting to know. Time will only tell if we meet on the long road of life again. Me ke aloha pumehana on your journey, friend.

By Karen Welsh
A black crab scurries over the ancient lava found at the Waiopae Tidepools near Kapoho, startling a little fish who responds with a quick flip of its tail before heading out into deeper waters. The world below the crystal clear waterline is a cacophony of colorful sea creatures, ever moving, ever-changing in their rhythm in the volcanically heated ponds teeming with life.
The effortless movement of the manini, blowfish, angelfish and others species so bright they take on the appearance of neon, takes them down to curtains of lavender, cornflower blue, orange, pink and yellow coral. Even the sun joins in, shinning brightly overhead, creating a reflective dance of light on light. The limu responds, swaying back and forth in the current.
In the midst of this natural symphony is a conductor of sorts. He is 23-year-old Hilo resident Grant Kow, a professional reef watcher for this particular Marine Life Conservation District. His job is simple, yet important. He makes sure no one abuses the aina or the kai located within the protected area.
"I'm usually out here eight hours a day on the weekends and federal holidays," he said. "I monitor the area. I don't hand out citations or anything. It's more to educate the public about what is going on in this area."
Grant's instruction is a reminder of the stringent state rules regarding the 45-acre sanctuary. He recites them freely and cheerfully to both the kamaaina and malahini visiting the area. He tells everyone there is absolutely no fishing allowed, no destroying coral of any kind, poking sticks into rocks or leaving trash at the site.
It seems straightforward enough, but there are people who abuse this pristine eco system. A collection of cigarette butts and bottle tops from alcoholic beverages are scattered over some portions of the smooth pahoehoe lava. They are often discarded by locals after Grant has gone home for the day.
When he returns, however, Grant patiently collects all the refuse left behind by uncaring souls, always hoping the next time will be better.
"I pick up litter all the time," he said. "I pick up all types of debris. This could be avoided if everyone would pack out what they bring in. It's simple. It's really simple."
For the most part, Grant, a senior at the University of Hawaii majoring in Aqua Culture and a minor in Marine Science, said his job is amazing because the salty warm pools are one of the most diverse areas on the island.
"These tidepools are unique and they are right here in the lower Puna District," Grant said. "They are easily assessable. They are protected by a natural reef barrier. The area serves as a major marine nursery for marine life."
It's also interesting to see what the tides and currents bring up on shore. Grant said the most unusual item so far was a plane from a crash that happened off the Maui coast last October.
"It was crazy," he said. "It washed up on Pebble Beach, on the north side of the sanctuary."
It's evident this 1999 Waiakea High School graduate has a profound passion for the ocean. When he isn't in class or working, he can often be found at the Hilo break wall, again watching the ocean swells and fishing.
"I'm one of those extreme guys that go out to the end and fish," Grant said. "Not too many people go out there."
His thoughts are often about his fiancee Linda and their two-and-a-half year old daughter, Tiani.
"I want to make the world a better place for them, especially Tiani," Grant said. "We need to conserve the land for our kids, so at least they can know what it was like for us. The ocean is one of our most important resources. We have to take care of it."
Grant is hoping to work at the state fish hatchery, located behind the old Iron Works Building near Waialoa State Park after he graduates. He wants to help manage the fishing game, once again, ensuring a healthy underwater future for his daughter, and all the generations to come.

The epic life of Tsugio Nishimura

Local man is one century old

By Karen Welsh
Tribune-Herald Correspondent
It was 100 years ago that Tsugio Nishimura took his first breath of life. He was a healthy boy with a zest for life.
And, he's still living it to the fullest.
This pleasant elderly gentlemen has a sharp mind and is still able to get around with the use of a walker. He said the key to a healthy life is to not overeat and keep away from doctors.
However, when a person has to go for a medical checkup, Tsugio recommended joking around with the physician.
"Each time I go for an appointment, my doctor says I'm doing good for my age," Tsugio said with a laugh. "I kid him and tell him he always says I look good for my age."
His full-time caregiver, Jesse Caro, said Tsugio is always making him laugh.
"He is a comedian," Jesse said. "When members of my ohana asked what was the secret of his long life he replied, 'Don't Die.' He said it. It's a joke, but I believe it because he's still so strong and smart."
Having a sharp wit is an asset to his overall health, and his active mind really comes in handy when Tsugio faithfully meets with his Shoukai Haiku Group once a month at the Taishoji Soto Mission on Kilauea Ave.
Once there, he is the master or "sensei" of the group, teaching them the fine art of creating haiku poetry. Tsugio joined the class in 1933, but soon showed a gift for the short verses aptly describing seasons and objects. To date, he has published three books of the popular poetry.
"Haiku is very difficult to compose," Tsugio said. "Oh, it's one of the best things in my life. The more I know about it the more I have to learn. It's very interesting."
At the last meeting, his students prepared lunch and a birthday cake to honor his milestone birthday. Each student also wrote a haiku for the occasion.
"In essence, my haiku says he has lived the way of haiku for 100 years and now we have an end of the year gathering," student Leanne Kuki said.
As the sensei, Tsugio took time from the celebration to make corrections to the gift of words, and then discussed the changes with the class before cutting the cake.
"He makes the haiku better," said the Rev. Shimryu Akita. "Not only does he make better words, but better phrases."
Perhaps Tsugio's wisdom is derived not only from a long life, but a life well-lived. And, although he's lived 36,500 days on the earth Tsugio has found it's important to take each day as it comes.
Tsugio said the young people of today should heed his advice and live by the code of one Japanese word --NinTai -- meaning adhering to a course of action, belief or purpose without giving it away. The word embodies persistence, tenacity, steadfastness and patience. In a nutshell, it means "never give up."
It is the motto by which Tsugio has lived his long life.
His epic life started on December 4, 1904, in the district of Tamana in Kunamoto, Japan. He was the youngest son of eight children was born into Mantaro and Sugi Yosinaga's family.
Tsugio grew up without modern conveniences in a poor farming family. Faithfully he completed his chores each day, including cutting the grass with a sickle each morning before he left for school. As a young child his family didn't have any clocks, so he learned to tell time by the regular passing of the daily trains.
When Tsugio was in his early teen years, word arrived from his older sister, Taki and her husband, Mataichi Nishimura living as plantation workers in East Hawaii that they were childless and desiring someone to carry on the family name. Because Tsugio had older brothers and no chance of inheriting the family farm in Japan, it was decided the barren couple would adopt the young teen and bring him over to the Big Island.
Immediately the paperwork was filled out and Tsugio changed his last name to honor Mataichi and Taki. One requirement for immigrants during that time period, however, was a long five year waiting period after the adoption was legally registered before the adoptee could make the trip across the ocean.
After the endless wait, Tsugio finally arrived to start his new life on November 23, 1923.
And, he never looked back.
Tsugio immediately entered Hilo Boarding School on Haili Street to learn English. Once there, Tsugio was not allowed to utter a single word of Japanese.
"On Sundays I would try and talk Japanese with the other boys from Japan," he said. "But, we were caught and sent to chop wood as punishment."
Besides attending classes, the young Japanese man worked on the small farm associated with the school. His only complaint during his five years at the school was the food. In the morning the young men were served two slices of bread and a glass of buttermilk. For lunch they ate salt salmon and poi.
"I learned how to eat poi," Tsugio said. "I had no choice but to like it."
Tsugio said the amount of food provided wasn't enough for growing bodies.
"It was hard, very hard," he remembered. "We were always hungry. Sometimes the bananas would come on and we would help ourselves. That was a big help."
Tsugio finally learned enough English and in 1925 he began working for the von Hamm-Young Co., pumping gas for $40 a month.
The young Japanese man proved to be a hard worker with a strong work ethic. In 1927 he was promoted and became the first commercial refrigerator and radio salesman to cover the entire island.
At the "old" age of 29, Tsugio married Kaoru. Their first home was a "Nagaya," a cheap apartment that only had a two burner hotplate in the kitchen and shared bathing facilities.
After six months, the couple moved to a tiny one bedroom apartment in Waiakea Houselots and finally to a home that cost less than $2,000. During this time, the babies began to arrive. There were four children in all. This was a delight to Taki. As the grandmother, she would take a one month leave from the plantation where she worked to help take care of the newborns.
The second son, Paul, said he dad was a man of strong character and he made his children tow the line.
"My father is easygoing now, but when we were growing up he was extremely strict," Paul said. "All of our homework had to be done on time and he expected us to go to bed at a certain time."
The Nishimura family life was almost disrupted when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. Because of Tsugio's birthplace, he was required to go to an internment camp on the mainland. A plea from his boss at von Hamm-Young Co., saved him from making the dreaded trip.
World War Two came and went. The time for nightly blackouts was over and many local businesses were struggling to exist. It wasn't long before Tsugio was laid off from work. It was then he decided he needed to own his own company in order to secure a strong financial future for his family.
In March 1946, Tsugio went into business with a partner selling parts for appliances and radios on Kamehameha Ave. Although they were open for business, the grand opening date for "Modern Appliance" was set for April 1. However, an early morning tidal wave wiped them completely out.
His son, Paul, was only 11 years old at the time, but remembered the day. Luckily, he said, the store had very few parts in stock so the financial losses were minimal that day.
"It was right after the war," Paul said. "There were no appliances they could buy because all the factories were being used for the war effort."
The psychological impact was greater, because the big wave was not seen as a "good omen."
However, Tsugio and his partner pulled it together and moved their business to Mamo Street. Soon, the appliances started coming in and business picked up. Eventually, Tsugio bought out his counterpart. Everything was going well until 1960, when another massive wave hit the bay.
By that time, Paul had graduated from the University of Hawaii in Manoa in 1957, and joined his dad in the family business.
"Warnings were given, but we were in Pahoa taking care of my grandparent's home while they were in Japan," Paul said. "We came into town the next morning and went to the top of Mamo Street. Hilo was impassable. We saw the two story building that sat across from Modern Appliance was in the middle of the street and was facing our store, which was still intact and on its foundation."
Once Tsugio and Paul were able to get inside the store they found all the merchandise jumbled and piled up in the back of the store.
Everything was ruined and the financial losses were severe because they didn't have any insurance. Because of Tsugio's tenacious lifestyle, they decided to start over again from scratch.
Not long afterwards, the father and son team decided to move to higher ground, however there was no supply for the demand of other business owners that were wiped-out during the disaster. They had to wait for nine years before a property became available on Kilauea Avenue, where the store remains to this day.
And, this mom and pop store is still a success because Tsugio demanded fair and personalized service for all customers.
"Dad taught us to have honesty with a customer," Paul said. "It was something he practiced. We would all get a whack on the head and chewed out if we didn't do it."
During this time, Tsugio became a United States citizen and strong community leader, serving various organizations, including the Japanese Chamber of Commerce. He even learned and loved to play golf.
Time kept marching by, however, and Tsugio retired from the business in the mid 1970s. Over the years, he has taken several trips to Japan by plane -- something he never imagined as a young man.
"I never thought there would be anything like airplanes," Tsugio said. "As a child, I would have never thought of flying over the ocean. It's a wonderful trip."
His native country took notice of this savvy businessman and civic leader. Tsugio received the coveted Imperial Award from the Emperor of Japan in 1995. He traveled to the Japanese Consulate in Honolulu to accept the award.
"To get an award from the Emperor himself is quite an honor," Paul said. "It was an important award for his contribution in building relationships between Japan and the United States, specifically Hawaii."
Unfortunately, after 68 years of marriage, Tsugio's beloved wife, Kaoru, age 90, proceeded him in death a couple of years ago.
Today, Tsugio finds joy and contentment in his children and grandchildren. His oldest, Sidney, is 70-years-old and already retired. Paul, age 69, will soon be heading in the same direction. Tsugio's daughter, Ellen, age 64 is a school teacher on the mainland, and Clifford, age 56, is the youngest.
"They are all doing good," Tsugio said. "I am very, very proud of them."
Looking back over his life, Tsugio is thankful he was able to come to the islands to live.
"I'm very glad I came to Hawaii," he said. "There is no other place better than Hawaii. It's the best thing I did in my whole life. Hilo is better than Kona, better than Honolulu. It's just wonderful."
For 100 years Tsugio has lived life to the fullest, and the truth be told, he's a big part of East Hawaii's history. In fact, he is living history. Perhaps that is why he lightly taps his chest and repeats the word "NinTai, NinTai." He has, indeed, persevered one day at a time.
"It's a long time living to be 100 years old," Tsugio reminisced. "It's been a good life"

The long road to paradise

Hilo a city of refuge to some

By Karen Welsh

Give Me Your Tired
They come from Ukraine
Your Poor
Russia
Your Huddled Masses
Kazakhstan
Yearning to Breathe Free...
Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan.
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.
They are the new immigrants. The wretched refuse, the homeless, tempest-tossed that poet Emma Lazarus wrote about in 1883 and found inscribed on the base of the Statue of Liberty.
Only these refugees have traveled halfway around the world and somehow managed to land in a strange and distant land. It is East Hawaii's teeming shore.
Although they come from what are now considered many separate countries once known as the United Soviet Socialist Republic, they are inexplicitly bound together as one because of their faith in God.
They are are bonded by the Russian language, their native tongue learned while growing up and living in harsh conditions under a dictatorships and communist rule.
Collectively these 14 adults and 16 children meet together each Sunday afternoon at 1 p.m. at Kinoole Baptist Church to fellowship with one another, share scripture words of encouragement, songs, prayers and their cherished freedom to express their faith.
Mothers wearing brightly colored scarves as a sign of respect and headship to their husbands sit and rock their little ones as the service begins. Despite a bit of wiggling, the older children sit quietly and listen, singing with loud, pure voices and praying at the appropriate times.
"How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity!," Pavel Zagumennyy read from Psalm 133:1 in the Cyrillic Russian Bible.
"It is good when we are together in communication," the congregation joined together in a capella, singing in their mother tongue. "We connect in one praise."
Hilo resident and Kinoole Baptist Church member Anuhea Young is one of a few regular attendees who speak English as their primary language. It doesn't seem to matter anyone to the Russians because they've adopted their new homeland's phrase "e komo mai," meaning "everyone is welcome."
She said the language barrier doesn't stop her from trying to fit in with her newfound brothers and sisters in Christ.
"I'm beginning to learn Russian," Young said. "Even though we come from different churches, we are all one body. I come to share God's love with them."
This interactive service is open and peaceful, a far stretch from the underground church most grew up in the communist Soviet Union.
Pavel, now 34, vividly remembers his Christian family struggling behind the Iron Curtain in Slovanski, Ukraine, as the KGB tormented and tortured his family because of their religion.
"The KGB viewed my father as an enemy because he was a Christian," he said. "They wanted to destroy my father. My dad was fired from his job because of the KGB, but the company he worked for kept hiring him back because he was a good, hard worker."
When the KGB's plans failed to demoralize his father, Pavel said they tried to kill the Godly man instead.
Once they poisoned his father, and when that didn't work, he said the KGB hired someone to kill him. Another time, Pavel said they tried to carbon monoxide poison him while he was riding in a car.
Each and every time the evil plans were thwarted, he said.
It was also a common practice, Pavel said, for the KGB to bring Christians to the hospital for a minor ailment, then inject them with poison. It happened to his grandmother and his father vowed it wouldn't happen to any other member of the family.
"We had to stay away from the hospital," he said. "They hated christians. They hated any kind of religion. If a Christian went to the hospital, they'd give them a shot and kill them. Everything happened like an accident. They made it look like an accident and the KGB always gave a story, but they were just trying to get rid of the christians."
When the KGB's efforts didn't work against Pavel's father, he said they came up with a new tactic, telling the head of the household if he brought his kids to church they would turn around and put the children in jail.
The KGB made good on their promise when they jailed his oldest brother. Pavel's father finally had enough.
"My father said, 'I don't want to fight this satan anymore,'" Pavel recalled. "We need to get out of this country. We were listening to a Russian speaking preacher from America at the time and my father said, 'I think America is a good country -- a religious country. We will go there.'"
Pavel's father's resolve began a 14 year process that would lead to more torture for the family. During that time the KGB worked hard to disgrace and defame his family in the community, but it never worked.
"My father wanted to go to this America and we became more of an enemy to the USSR," he said in his halting English. "We are actually like the pioneers that go to America. No one in our town thinks to go to America before that."
The officials finally gave up on the Zagumennyy family in 1989 and allowed them to leave for the United States. With the help of a sponsoring family, Pavel's mother, father, brothers and sisters settled in Portland, Oregon.
At that point, he said the family had to rely heavily on the faith that sustained them through many hard years to make it through the difficult transition period ahead of them.
"We were refugees," Pavel said. "We did not come to this land for money. We came for freedom. But, we were like a baby -- born again. We didn't know how to speak the language. We didn't know the culture. Only God could help us."
Despite a lack of understanding, Pavel said the doors miraculously opened each step of the way.
He quickly went to work on a fishing vessel in Alaska, then joined the construction force in Portland. One job took him to Florida, were he found the warm climate delightful. When Pavel returned to Oregon, he told other Russian comrades in the community that he wanted to move.
"My friends said, 'If you like Florida so much, why don't you go look at Hawaii,'" he said. "So we did."
And, Pavel said, they immediately felt the spirit of aloha.
"The people here are very friendly," he said. "Everyone is so welcoming. We love the weather and the land. You stick something in the ground and it grows. This is a wonderful place. We have everything here."
For three years Pavel searched for land so he could build a farm. He finally found a 12 acre track of ocean view property in Lapahoehoe. He is currently building a home on the property.
Pavel's dad will never see the finished product, because his health broke down from the many bad years he suffered in Ukraine and he passed away recently in Hilo.
"My dad died in paradise," Pavel said. "He died in paradise going to paradise."
For Vladimir and Liya Krasovsky, the move from Uzbekistan to Hawaii started when Liya's father felt the need to leave the country.
"My father was always talking about coming to America," she said. "It was always inside him to come and he began to pray about it. When God opened the door, my father said God 'God wants to take us out because Russian Christians will be persecuted more and more."
This leap of faith landed the couple in Sacramento, California before working their way to Hilo five years ago to join Liya's sister, Nadia and family.
Now they have plans to make the island their home forever.
"This is nice," Liya said. "This is God."
"We really like everything here," Vladimir added. "The people and nature. There's so many blessings here. I would never have this perfect plan. Everything is so prepared and happening at the right time. God is the one who provided every step of the way. We're amazed. This is just better --trusting God."

Interesting Islanders

Introducing Nephi Pomaika'i Brown

By Karen Welsh
It's possible for this old gal to count my most memorable "firsts" on two hands. Right up there is a recent meeting with 44-year-old Nephi Pomaika'i "Pomai" Brown, who received first billing as the character Nick, a tattooed short order cook, in Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore's 2004 hit movie "50 First Dates."
It was the oddest chain of events that led to Pomai and me sitting on a picnic table at a local park in Hilo, watching five of his six keiki, ranging in ages from one to 12, happily play on the swings and slides.
"Growing up in Hilo was very free and easy," Pomai reminisced while watching his children. "I used to go swim in the rivers, pick guava and waiwe and spending countless hours at Coconut Island."
Sitting there, I realized it took more than three decades for our lives to finally link together. In order to understand, it is important to rewind back to the early 1970s, when Pomai's mom decided to move from Kalihi to Hilo.
Now, I lived on Oahu during that time and Pomai and I were exactly the same age, but as fate would have it we never met.
After settling on the Big Island, Pomai attended sixth grade at Waiakea Elementary School before moving up the next year to Waiakea Intermediate. While there, Pomai said he was blessed to be a part of George Camarillo Sr.'s Ukulele Band.
"That was my introduction to music," Pomai said. "I was very fortunate to have gotten in the band since I was only in seventh grade at the time. Hilo was the start of my music career."
During that time, Pomai also became one of Wayne Naeole's infamous paperboys.
Here's where it gets really interesting. Fast forward to 2005: Pomai, a regular online reader of this newspaper, read one of my stories about his old mentor.
Pomai was so moved by the article that he sent the most intriguing e-mail from his home in Waikoloa.
"I read your article about Wayne Naeole today and a smile and tear crossed my face," he wrote. "... It was because of Wayne's honesty, trust and kindness, I was able to face each day as a paperboy. My biggest fear was not completing my job well! His inspiration and encouragement helped me throughout my life. I gained the confidence to deal with people face-to-face, and his positive attitude helped me through Kamehameha Schools, Hawaii Pacific College (Degree in Entrepreneurial Studies) and my career in the music industry."
The letter didn't end there, however, as Pomai related how a seed was planted by Wayne several decades ago that gave him confidence to meet new people and relate to different situations.
The experience as a delivery boy created a strong link, known as work ethic, in Pomai's life, giving him the strength and endurance needed to start his own entertainment business, providing musical services for various hotels and other clients.
Another link was added when Pomai received a phone call from the producers of the popular television show "Celebrity Mole Hawaii." Pomai was asked to play and sing "Tiny Bubbles" for 30 minutes straight while the celebrities performed certain tasks.
His national television debut was followed by another phone call the very next day. This time, Pomai thought it was a prank.
"I got a call for Adam Sandler's movie," he recalled. "I thought it was a joke. I thought, 'no way.' I said 'yeah, okay, whatever.'"
The conversation was followed up with a fax with some lines from the script and a directive to shoot a video. Pomai and his wife, Toni, complied, making the short film in their kitchen, and immediately sent it back to the phantom director.
Three weeks passed and Pomai still thought it was a joke, but fantasy quickly turned to reality when the casting director finally called and Pomai suddenly found himself sitting in a first class seat on the way to Los Angeles. He couldn't believe it when a limousine was there to pick him up.
"They were treating me like a star," Pomai said. "And I'm trying to tell them I'm a nobody."
The most fortunate chain of events occurred for Pomai and soon he was reading with Sandler himself and was given two thumbs up for the role.
"I was hired on the spot," he said. "I couldn't believe it. It was a whirlwind, a chance of a lifetime opportunity. I thought, 'the music thing has always been there, it's always supported me and now it's allowed me to do this."
The next thing Pomai knew, he was in Hollywood making a movie. Everyone, from Sandler to Barrymore and the rest of the cast and production company were top-notch, he said.
"I didn't expect it," Pomai said. "I really, really didn't expect it. Everyone was so helpful and kind. I was really humbled. There were at least 20 extras on the set every day and each and every one of them was 10 times more experienced than I was. I was very fortunate."
There were other differences Pomai had to deal with during his two weeks in California. For one, he had never owned a watch in his life. When Pomai showed up on set, Sandler found out and bought him a brand-new watch.
"Adam was an unbelievable guy," Pomai said. "He was unbelievably nice."
The movie was a big hit and Pomai is now recognized wherever he goes. It's been a difficult transition, but he's learning how to deal with it.
"I'm not used to it when people recognize me," Pomai said. "At first I was uncomfortable. I used to deny it was me in the movie when people asked, but my improv teacher told me I had to own up to it and deal with it.
"I'm hoping all the attention won't change me for the negative. But look, I'm still the father of six kids. I have to go to the store and change diapers. I'm so busy trying to make a living to let it go to my head."
Pomai also leans upon the life lessons that Wayne Naeole and George Camarillo Sr. taught him. He said they are intrinsically linked to his very soul.
That's probably why Pomai always enjoys coming back home to his roots and home in East Hawaii. And, that’s how we finally ended up meeting.
"I love coming back to Hilo," he admitted. "I think what I always remember is the green, lush landscape. It's days like these, with the blue sky and snow-capped mountain that just can't be beaten. I think Hilo is such a nice, quaint, friendly town. It's just nice to come back and visit. It's been home. It's always been home for me."

For the love of Hula--Pa'i Award winner

Sista Act 2: Back in the lineup again
Former Miss Hula Aloha contestants bring halau back to festival
By Karen Welsh
For the Tribune-Herald
A flock of birds fluttered back and forth through Hilo's open-air Edith Kanaka'ole Tennis Stadium, matching the flowing, gliding hands of the dancing Halau Na Lei Kaumaka O Uka.
Never mind this group of 23 young women and two kumu hula members got up at the crack of dawn on the first day of spring break to catch a plane from their home in Pukalani, Maui to the Big Island. Forget the bumpy ride from the nasty weather pattern hanging stubbornly over the island chain.
Don't mention lunch was missed in the busyness of the moment, or the soggy conditions the girls endured from the continuous and torrential downpour saturating the land.
It simply didn't matter. They were smiling. Happy. Poetry in motion. Nothing could dampen their spirits because they were thrilled to be dancing on the official Merrie Monarch stage.
"This is so exciting," said 21-year-old Orama Brault, a dancer with the halau for eight years. "We never thought we'd be on this stage. When the halau started we'd come every year to the festival and dream about it. Now we're actually here. It's so great. It's so awesome. I would practice all day. I can't get enough of this stage."
Their shirts said it all --touting the halau's motto, "Hula Built." They have practiced long hours and pushed themselves hard, hanging on every word of their co-kumu hula leaders and sisters Jaye "Napua" Greig and Patty "Kahulumealani" Maluo-Huber, both former Miss Aloha Hula contestants and performers at past Merrie Monarch festivals.
"It's all about respect," said 18-year-old Emily Spenser, who flew home from the University of San Diego to participate in the rehearsals. "They are our role models."
It's been a longer road back to the festival for Kahulumealani, first runner-up in the 1990 Miss Aloha Hula competition and Napua, second runner-up in 1992.
Both sisters moved to Hilo a couple of years apart in the late 1980s to attend the University of Hawaii's Big Island campus.
Kahulumealani arrived first. She immediately began taking lessons from kumu hula Ray Fonseca's Halau Hula O Kahili Laulani. She felt it a great honor when Uncle Ray asked her to dance in the competition.
"It was a world-stopping experience," Kahulumealani remembered. "Personally I stopped everything, gave up college and gave it my all."
Napua followed in her big sister's footsteps only two years later. She had joined Johnny Lum Ho's Halau O Ka Ua Kani Lehua and was soon asked to dance in the solo competition.
"It helped me to be a lot more confident," she said. "To dance in front of all those people by myself."
Both sisters eventually moved back to Maui, opening their own halau in 1996. Over the years it has grown from 30 to 125 members, ranging in age from four to 44 years old.
The sisters believe hula is comparable to a sport, but is also something deeply spiritual and cultural too. They stress hula is something the dancers have to prepare for before coming to the halau.
"We connect with hula on many different levels," Napua said. "Spiritually, emotionally and intellectually. You can see right through this dance and if their life isn't in order they just don't dance well."
Kahulumealani and Napua started bringing a select group of dancers from their halau to watch the Merrie Monarch Festival six years ago. Then, they began to dream.
"We would talk about our experiences and the hard work it took to get there," Napua said. "The determination and the sacrifice it took to get up on that stage."
Finally the sister's felt their "Opiho" class of young women, ranging in age from 13 to 40 years, were ready for the challenge and commitment and put their name on the waiting list.
Everyone was blown away when festival officials notified the kumu sisters of their acceptance.
"The girls have been wanting to do it forever," Napua said. "When we told them they were excited. They're hard working kids. They apply themselves."
"They brought themselves to a whole new level when they started practicing for the competition in August," Kahulumealani added.
It was a costly venture, but the troupe arrived in Hilo for the sole purpose of relentless practicing in order to do their best in the upcoming competition.
Despite the distractions of landing planes, squawking birds and noisy traffic surrounding the stadium, the halau remains committed to the art, determined to be precise and focused completely on the two kumu sisters.
"You guys have got to overcome the noise," Napua told the students over the sound of the pounding rain. "You guys have got to bring it. You've got to belong."
Napua, the more outgoing personality of the two sisters, chants and sings and she either plays the ipu for the oli or the ukulele for the mele.
Reciting the living history of her ancestors is second nature to the seasoned performer.
"It's easy if you understand the language because it's like a story," Napua said. "It's history and you know what comes next."
The young women provide the interpretation, and every little nuance of the hula, from facial expressions, vocal inflections, hand movements, ka'o or 'uwehe, are under the watchful eyes and trained ears of the kumu hula sisters during the rehearsal.
Tirelessly they practiced the kahiko "Hana Waimea" chant in honor of King Kamehameha or their and auana "Pu'uhonua Nani" over and over again. Their voices echoing, their feet thudding on the hollow wooden stage floor. None complained when they were asked to do it "one more time, please."
"Wit da attitude and everything dis time," Kahulumealani told the girls as they returned to the stage.
This is serious business, an expensive field trip to make sure the girls are comfortable on stage and they are dancing each step with pinpoint precision.
"You've got to make this stage your home," Napua reminded the group. "We're here so that when you walk on the stage it will be like you've done it a million times. You guys can be the best dancers in the whole world, but it's not going to do you nothing if you're scared. If you're scared people aren't gonna watch cause they are uncomfortable. You need to relax so the audience can enjoy it."
"When you walk up that ramp you've got to command everyone's attention," Kahulumealani added. "You need to have that intense, eager face when walking up on the stage. You need to exude confidence."
Napua also reminded the women that first impressions are the most important.
You are the newcomers on the block," she stressed to the eager onlookers. "You've got to make the audience sit up and pay attention. That's your goal."
Three hours past and the rigorous rehearsal was finally over. They would all come back over the next two days and do it all over again.
The troupe made it's way outside into the liquid air. Many ran to the vans to find relief from the moisture. The sisters stopped, however and smiled at each other, welcoming the wet sight.
"The rain is what makes Hilo home," Napua said. "It's good to come back to Hilo. Every time I step off the plane to Hilo I am energized. It feels good to come back to Hilo. It's really good."

Authentic 50s Diner found in Lapahoehoe

A blast from the past
New restaurant brings back bygone era
By Karen Welsh
Tribune-Herald Correspondent
Happy days are here again at the "Back to the 50's Highway Fountain," located at 35-3074 Old Mamalahoa Hwy, between mile markers 24 and 25 on Hwy. 19 in Lapahoehoe.
The happiest person of all is owner and manager, 35-year-old Christopher Ignacio. The diner is the culmination of a lifelong dream.
"I always wanted to open up a diner," this 1987 St. Joseph High School graduate said. "I was a teacher for the previous 12 years at a private school on Oahu. Then, this opportunity presented itself and I came back to East Hawaii. My dad and I spent three months renovating the building before we opened."
Although it's not open around the clock, business hours are from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m., Tuesday through Saturday, and 8 a.m. to 2 p.m. on Sunday and is always closed on Monday.
Don't expect the usual fare, because this unique restaurant promises to awaken all five senses for those who come through the doors.
Sight is the first sense to be inspired. A showcase of classic model cars and pictures of Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presley, James Dean and Lucille Ball line the walls.
A black and white checkered floor, and red and white gingham curtains provide a perfect backdrop to the Coca-cola tablecloths and turquoise counters, lined with red and black stools, stationed near the old-fashioned soda and ice cream fountain.
Sound is the second sense enticing patrons. A jukebox in the back of the building plays one golden oldie after another.
And, if the song is catchy, it's okay to sing with a mouth full. In fact, belting a tune is encouraged by Christopher's dad, Larry, who often comes to help his son at the popular eatery. The elder Ignacio enjoys leading others in songs from his era.
Smell is the third sense to score high points. From homemade bacon cheeseburgers to chicken katsu, the aroma is mouth-watering.
Taste is the sense that will receive the most fulfillment. This 50s hotspot offers "Be-Bop Breakfasts," that include Mahi and eggs, sweetbread French toast, spam, steak, Portuguese sausage and other starters until 10:30 a.m. each morning.
Christopher said there are locals that come every day for breakfast.
"We have the usuals every morning," he said. "It's sort of like 'Cheers.' We have a guy we call 'Norm' because he's here everyday."
The "Rockin' Rollin' Lunchin'" menu is offered from 10:30 a.m. until closing. Head Cook Mae Fukui prepares all the main dishes, including burgers, crispy fries, Korean chicken and other local fare, fresh and hot off the grill. Most items are then served in a red basket with a red and white checked paper lining.
Ice cream treats, which include malted milk shakes, banana splits, floats and other delights are made right before the customer's eyes and are palette pleasers. That keeps people coming back for more.
Helen Layaoen, age 81, a resident of the senior housing in Lapahoehoe, said she's already eaten at the restaurant three times since it opened and plans to come back for more.
"It's good," she said. "It's very tasteful. I like to take home the leftovers."
Touch is the last, but not least sense, however not in the traditional sense. It's touching to see people enjoying themselves and having fun.
Once the establishment opened it's doors on Sept. 6 2004, it quickly became apparent the experience was going to attract customers of different age groups.
Mary Chun, the coordinator of senior services in Lapahoehoe said those she works with come to the restaurant because of the food and atmosphere.
"The seniors enjoy coming here," she said. "The old songs bring them back. and the food is wonderful. It's delicious."
Carpenter Gareth Babagay, age 28, was working on a job site near Lapahoehoe said he was pleasantly surprised to find the diner a couple of weeks ago.
Since then, he's eaten there everyday.
"I've come everyday for the past two weeks," Babagay said. "The pork cutlet is good. It's a reasonable price too."
When the lunch crowd starts to ebb, the teenagers from the local schools take over the restaurant. It's already become a popular hangout for many youth living in the area.
Lapahoehoe High School Ninth Grader Aulii Maikui, age 14, said her friends come at least three to four times a week after school to meet and eat.
"The food is good, it's much better than the food at school" she said. "We just come down here to eat after school. Everything is good that I've tried so far. We like to sit outside to eat and talk story. Before we used to go home or stay at school. This is much better."
Tourists have also begun to find the 50's eatery. Maps on the walls with pins stuck in various locations show visitors from all over the United States and other countries, including Finland, Ukraine, Russia, Korea and Japan who have eaten at the diner.
"We've had customers from every continent," Christopher joked. "Except Antarctica."
Montana residents Vance and Marilyn Goddard found the eatery quite by accident while traveling around the island from Kona.
"We saw the sign and are from the 50s era so we decided to stop," Marilyn said. "I was a little surprised to see this era restaurant here."
Christopher, who named his establishment after his grandma's 1940's Highway Fountain in Paauilo, said although the business is successful, there are some important issues he will need to deal with in the near future.
"The restaurant has gone beyond my wildest imagination," he said. "We're going through growing pains right now, but they're good growing pains. The grill is too small and we need to expand the kitchen. Seating is also a hot commodity and I would like to expand back and build a deck so people can eat and enjoy the ocean view."
Christopher credits his father, Larry, for coming up with the 50s concept.
The elder Ignacio is proud of his son's achievements and plans on sticking with him through all his successes and struggles.
"I only see expansion in the future," Larry said. "We've just gotten busier and busier. It's never slowed down. But, for me, it's a joy. My son has come home, so we celebrate the idea that he has come home. It's like a gift for him to be here."
For more information on the restaurant, or to order take-out, call (808) 962-0808.