Bethesda Fountain was buzzing with school groups today. Altogether there were 3 groups from the Brooklyn Environmental Exploration School, or BEES. They were on a scavenger hunt. The first flight of BEES was happy to stop for a hula. Their teacher contributed $3. The second flight, hearing others had been there before them, hurried away without a dance; the third danced, then hurried away. Their teacher promised to put “hukilau” on the vocabulary list.

On the eastern staircase, a class of high school kids from a private school, in blue shirts and beige pants and skirts, posed for their school picture. During a lull in the photo-taking, a half-dozen boys wandered my way. “Have you got time for a hula today?” They lined up and off we went. By the second verse of the “The Hukilau Song,” they were in perfect sync, hula to the left, hula to the right. While the kane’s danced, the wahini’s gave their critique from the sidelines. “What do you think, girls,” I asked. “Was that a good hula?”

“Not even close,” said one girl, and the others agreed, but none would don a lei to show the boys how it was done.

Time to go, the boys pulled out their wallets and each dropped at least a dollar in my case, maybe more.

In the northeast corner, by the water, a college class was arrayed around their teacher. When they were done, a few of the girls asked if they could hula. They’d seen the other groups dancing and wanted to get in on it too. They were from Marymount Manhattan College; the subject of the seminar was “Romantic Attachments.”

“What is that?” I asked the teacher. “Sex education?”

“That’s what I thought at first,” she said, “but you’d be surprised. These girls know the physical mechanics, but have no practical experience with the emotional.” At the end of the dance, she slipped a twenty out of her pocketbook. “You’re great,” she told me. “Are you here all the time? I’m going to hold more classes out here.”

Toward the end of my gig, 2 Brazilian women stopped to dance. One dark, one blond, they were tall and curvaceous, dancing the hula in a rapid, controlled style. As they walked away toward the lake, they embraced and kissed. A moment later, the brunette returned with $2. She was still dancing to her inner uke when I pocketed my $37.25 and went home.