20 MONTEREY COUNTY WEEKLY MAY 21-27, 2026 www.montereycountynow.com it didn’t quite stick at that time. He was in the military so their family moved often, including to Monterey when he was stationed at Fort Ord. Bush and Lualemana were raised in a home that they describe as being an ohana in the diaspora, open for Hawaiians and other Pacific Islanders in the military, with recruits of all ages gathering to chat or share a meal. And for both sisters, the spirit of aloha became a guiding principle in their adult lives. “It’s our kuleana—our responsibility—to give back to our community,” Lualemana says. “It’s a passion we have.” More than 50 percent of native Hawaiians now live off the islands, pushing the sisters’ commitment to keep the traditions alive for members of the diaspora—and beyond. Hi’ilani ‘O Ke Kai paddlers and hula dancers are not just Pacific Islanders, but also hail from all over the world—all are welcome as long as they express a genuine curiosity about learning the culture. Both sisters have committed themselves to earning leadership roles in the community. “Our culture is open,” Bush says. “I was never taught not to share.” Lualemana, who works as a tattoo artist professionally, just completed a college degree in Hawaiian culture and language. She grew up hearing it spoken by grandparents, but was not taught to speak fluently in her youth. In 2019, Bush earned the title of kumu hula, a master teacher, and was recognized with a ceremonial kīhei garment to celebrate. “Hula is the heartbeat of Hawaii,” Lualamana says of her sister’s leadership. Hula dances tell a story, and in her teaching at Hi’ilani ’O Ke Kai’s hula hālau (school), Bush focuses on all of the elements that contribute to the story. “It’s not just head and arm motion, it’s the look of an eye or an eyebrow, the way you lean forward,” she says. “As a hula dancer we have to truly express—and,” she adds, “have fun.” Fun is central to any cultural club, and in Hawaiian culture, so is the feeling of inclusiveness. At Nā Haumāna in Marina, a drumming and hula hālau, leader Louella Sumler says the studio is open to participants well beyond their rehearsals—they can show up just to hang out, do homework or look for an Auntie or Uncle to talk to. Sumler is Filipina but grew up dancing in Marina thanks to her Tongan best friend, and embraced the spirit of aloha. Growing up, she remembers practicing after church on Sundays, then lingering all day. “We would also do our homework together and make costumes, and the aunties would feed us,” she says. “The bonds I have had with my hula sisters [last], even now when we see each other later in life.” As an adult, Sumler wanted to re-create that feeling and found it in a new ohana, Nā Haumāna, which launched in 2018 and that she took over in 2021 (as a volunteer, in addition to her work as a nurse). “You have that family you are born into, but this is the family we create,” Sumler says. She points to a pile of shoes at the studio door as the evidence that Nā Haumāna is serving its role, reminiscent of the homes that served as extended ohanas in her childhood. Hula instructor Marleen Bush plays the ipu heke, a large double gourd drum, to keep the beat during a class at the Moose Lodge in Del Rey Oaks. Children (or keiki) in a youth hula hālau hosted by Hi’ilani ’O Ke Kai. Louella Sumler (center, holding microphone) speaks at a ceremonial gathering of Nā Haumāna on Sunday, May 17. “It’s bridging how do we get this new generation as involved as we were, growing up,” she says of welcoming in younger generations.
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