Luke Takayama is not quite what he’d call a "hard-core bon dancer" but he is definitely in the league of bon dance groupies.
During obon season, he goes to as many dances as he can manage, parking on narrow side streets and lugging in his camera gear. Off-season, he takes Japanese dance class, taiko and Okinawan drumming. He recently got a tattoo of a bon dance across his back — a circle of dancers around a yagura tower.
"I wish bon dance was my job, you know? Not to make it a business or anything, but just to spend my days doing something you really love to do."
Over the past few years, Takayama, 40, who works overnights at Target, has taken thousands of photographs at bon dances, documenting Hawaii’s unique interpretation of the traditional Japanese Buddhist festival. He used to shoot 1,200 pictures a night, but lately has made himself scale back to 600.
When he was little, once a year, his grandmother would take him to the bon dance on Keeaumoku Street to see the sights and eat saimin, but it wasn’t until his son Austin was born four years ago that Takayama truly fell in love with the festival. Something about wanting to connect his child with such a joyful, inclusive tradition resonated with him in a way he can’t quite explain.
"I didn’t think I would enjoy it this much," he said by email.
Takayama joined the Honolulu Fukushima Bon Dance Club and Hawaii Eisa Shinyuu Kai and began teaching his son Okinawan drumming.
The single dad even found love at a bon dance. Cheryl Matsumura was dancing in the circle.
"She caught my eye," he said.
Later, Takayama and Matsumura ended up in a Japanese dance class together. He didn’t have to explain his bon dance obsession with her. She understood. She felt the same way.
"She loves to dance and will dance almost every single song at a bon dance," Takayama said. "It was like it was meant to be."
The couple is now venturing out to neighbor island bon dances, expanding their field of experiences. Earlier this month, they went to check out and photograph festivals at Honpa Hilo Hongwanji Betsuin and Paauilo Hongwanji on Hawaii island. They plan to go to dances on every island.
Each bon dance is a little different, Takayama noted. Sometimes the songs are the same but the dances are completely different. Many congregations have a signature food booth.
"Like, Manoa Hongwanji is known for their corn," he said. "And Higashi has their special shave ice."
Shave ice is their favorite, but not all bon dances have a shave ice booth. "Sometimes we have to come home and make our own to get our fix," he said.
Takayama is noting all of these details and taking thousands of pictures in the hope of writing a bon dance book. It’s another way, like the year-round classes and the tattoo, to keep close to this tradition that he finds inexplicably magical and true. He’s not sure that the dead really do come back to celebrate with the living at the obon festival, but he’s not sure they don’t, either.
"We recently lost some friends in our dance group, and you know, it’s like you still see them at the bon dance," he said. "I understand what the tradition is about, but I’m not religious at all. You don’t have to be to come to bon dance. Everybody can come."
As for joining the ranks of the hard-core bon dancers, Takayama anticipates years of study and practice before he attains that level of mastery. Even though bon dance is fun for everyone, he said, "I think you enjoy it even more the more you know."
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Author’s note: I started writing this column in 2000 and have been grateful every day for the opportunity to do so. I’m excited to be joining the English Department faculty at ‘Iolani School and so this will be my last regular column. I want to express my thanks to the Star-Advertiser and to the readers and to all the people who let me write their stories. A hui hou.
