Kokua: The festival outside the festival brings Hawaii together

Barb Forsyth

WAIKIKI—If you were anywhere near the Kokua Festival at the Waikiki Shell this past weekend, you probably noticed that there were actually two festivals happening simultaneously. One, inside the Shell, cost a minimum of $40 per head; the other, held on Kapiolani Park’s vast lawn just outside the venue, was free. Both sets of festival goers enjoyed the spectacular weather Earth Weekend delivered: clear blue skies with warm yet comfortable temperatures and gentle trade winds.

On the whole, the environment in both camps could be characterized as overwhelmingly haole in appearance and a bit like a college campus. Yet as someone who has spent considerable time at both “events,” I decided to focus my attention this year on the group outside the gates.

After taking last year off, the sixth Kokua Festival featured performances by Jack Johnson, Taj Mahal & The Hula Blues Band, Ziggy Marley, Jake Shimabukuro, and Anuhea. All of the musicians had some kind of connection to the islands and, with the obvious exception of Johnson himself, debuted at the festival this year. As always, all proceeds from the festival went to the Kokua Hawaii Foundation, a non-profit organization founded by Jack and Kim Johnson in 2003 to support environmental education programs in the schools and communities of Hawaii. The funds raised from the Kokua Festival will be used to further support school recycling on Oahu, sponsor field trips, and grow ‘AINA In Schools, a farm-to-school program. The foundation has also expanded its community outreach with their Simplify the Holidays campaign and the new Plastic Free Hawaii coalition.

Kokua Festival is notorious for selling out too quickly, so this year tickets went on sale to Hawaii residents a full day earlier than the general public, in addition to the pre-sale offered to members of Kokua foundation. Still, the money and organizational skills required to successfully procure a coveted ticket kept many faithful Jack Johnson fans from doing so.

The general consensus was that the lineup lacked previous years’ star power, but that did not seem to be a big factor in peoples’ decisions regarding ticket purchases. The majority of the people outside that I spoke with came because they were Jack Johnson fans.  The most cited reasons for not having a ticket were not wanting to spend the money, better and cheaper access to booze and food outside, wanting to let the kids run around, “forgetting” to buy tickets, a preference for avoiding the massive crowding inside, and a desire be among the “more chill vibe.” 

Of course, countless others decided to go on a moment’s notice, given the nice weather and eclectic musical lineup. Although sitting outside the festival is not the same acoustics-wise as going in, folks felt they could hear “well enough” to justify bringing their chairs, coolers, and grills to maximize the event’s potential as a relaxed social gathering.

In fact, one informally organized group I spoke with on Friday night was comprised of more than 40 people, most of them employees of Duke’s and Cheesecake Factory. They were very happy to be able to all hang out together—something that would have proved nearly impossible had they been inside the Shell. A man who had driven down from Sunset Beach agreed: “Can’t you hear [the music] just fine right now? You can deal with the madness in there, or you can have a good time with your friends and family out here.” For him, the choice was clear, and though he and his wife always come down to hear the music, they have never purchased tickets. 

On Saturday afternoon, people appeared to arrive in greater numbers, most certainly because of its mid-weekend status. The atmosphere on the lawn that day was exuberant, whether or not people were planning to head inside. I, myself, had a ticket and was suddenly feeling a tad wistful that I did not have more time to stay and chat. 

On our way toward the entrance, I spotted a particularly happy foursome seated in the shade. I stopped and asked if they were planning to go inside.  They were, but apparently they were not in a rush. One of them offered me something to drink, explaining that he had just had a great pre-concert experience. Intrigued, I sat down to hear his story. The Kaimuki resident was relaxing outside, waiting for some friends, when he was approached by an old friend and roommate whom he hadn’t seen in five years.  After they finished catching up, another couple walked over and offered him a white cooler bag of three Coronas and an opener, which they could not take into the venue. He happily offered to help them out. Just then, he ran into another friend he had not planned to see, and invited her to share the windfall. As they drank, two more women approached him, needing a bottle opener, which he now had. Just before I walked up, a random woman came up to him offering an extra ticket because she had to catch a flight. Although he already had a ticket for himself, he accepted her offer, promising he would pass it along to someone who really wanted to see the show.  And that was how I left him—excited to pay forward the generosity that had been bestowed upon him.

Feeling like my faith in the humanity of music festivals and their power to create community had been restored, my friends and family approached the entrance. Just then I spotted Hawaiian hero Paula Fuga, a soulful ukulele player and singer who was scheduled to play alongside Jack Johnson. Being that she is one of my very favorite local musicians, I longed to tell her how much I enjoyed her music. She was walking towards the V.I.P. entrance as I debated whether or not I had the nerve. Finally, I summoned the courage and ran over. She greeted me warmly, as I introduced myself and The Hawaii Independent. We chatted about the festival, her music, her fans, and as I walked away, I considered how much more difficult this interaction would have been at a music festival on the mainland, where venues are larger and the security tighter. That, despite the minor griping that I had heard about high ticket prices, crowding, and tightened security, the Kokua Festival, with its mission to secure a sustainable future, continues to inspire people to share their love of music—along with their stories, food and drink, and even their good fortune—with complete strangers.