Week 12 of 29: Leaving Kohala, Arriving in Puna

Monday, April 28
In the morning, Tragom does an aromatherapy consultation with me. He mixes up a powerful concoction that is a combination of 12 essential oils -- including lavender, ancient lime, manouka and tobacco -- plus jojoba oil. But first, he asks what my intention is. After some struggle to articulate it, I settle on this: “To manifest the spirit of aloha and freedom in my interactions and in my writing over the duration of my two and a half weeks left in Hawaii.” In the afternoon, Beth, Tragom and I go walking down to the lighthouse nearby. It’s incredibly windy. Brutal and beautiful coastline. Not much of a place for doing anything in the water, I don’t think, because the water is so choppy and dangerous, and so far down, but an excellent place to feel the force of Mother Nature, who conjures up all sort of things over here.

Tragom, Beth and I go to pick up our winnings from the home of one of the organizers of Saturday's auction. We call Peter, from whom I won the two-night rental, and he can’t make it work for tonight. However, he will have it ready starting tomorrow night. Peter, in fact, was one of the people who introduced himself to me at the auction. We talked about change, and my concern about the impact so many "newcomers" were having on the life of the island and the descendants of those who were first there. Peter, an older, silver-haired gentleman said, "Change is coming whether we want it to or not. The question is how do we have it be change that we want instead of change that we don't want?"

Tuesday, April 29
I get up and start to breakdown the room and pack: Deflating the air-bed, folding the sheets, washing my clothes. I go to drop my things at Peter's place up in the hills. The guest studio is beautiful and spacious. Vog covers the horizon in the distance. Late in the afternoon, Tragom and I go to the beach by the resorts in Kona, and then meet Beth and her sister Elaine for dinner at Merriman’s. Beth treats -- she's just closed with one of her clients on a property.

Wednesday, April 30
I go to Kevin's (he's friend/hairdresser to Beth and Tragom) in Waimea. We met briefly at the Sweet Honey concert Saturday night. We go to the grocery store, and he buys our sandwiches for lunch. We head for the beach. Not so many people out there. I see someone I want to meet, who is with someone else, and I don't press it. I note the wave of attachment that swept over in in such a short time, though ... After I leave him around the middle of the afternoon, I head down to the King Kamehameha Royal Hotel in Kona, where I'm going to my first luau. The meal is good, though I don't understand what it is about poi that Hawaiians like so much, other than it is a familiar staple to them. I bet some of them would say the same thing about my mother's cornbread, which I love.

The show, while entertaining, informative, well-paced and colorful -- is clearly a presentation intended for it's largely mainland/mainstream "family values" US audience. A dance in honor of US military personnel and veterans -- dancers performing in tee shirts and jeans to a contemporary patriotic song -- seems to be the equivalent of the expectation that Barack Obama would wear a flag lapel pin. While we call Hawaii the 50th state in the Union, we could also call it an invaded and occupied nation, not so different at all from other nations the US has invaded in recent and forgotten times. Nothing against military personnel, but the mere acknowledgement of what's so.

This conundrum surfaces regularly, in subtle and overt ways. The big, tall Hawaiian host at the gate of the luau apologized as we patrons were entering for having to sell flower leis. "We want to give them to you for free, but since we don't own our land anymore and can't afford the taxes, we have to sell whatever we can to be able to stay here." He gives a little chuckle, but he and anyone paying attention know this is no laughing matter. He went on to say, "And if you didn't like the traffic coming here -- Guess why we have traffic? That's right: because you're here." Cue the laugh track again.

I'm glad to be here. And I wonder again, as I have been wondering, how does the spirit of aloha survive in such an inherently oppressive environment? Or does its essence thrive and become more radiant because the word as a symbol is so vulnerable to commercialization, trivialization and misuse?

Thursday, May 1
I get up and say farewell to Peter. He’s a very kind gentleman. I have lunch at the café across the way from Beth’s office. I see a beautiful bright green, spotted gecko on the floor by my table that if I could, I might try to put on as a bracelet (can't take a picture ... I left my camera in the car). Now to make the long drive down to Kalani. Winding roads and/or breathtaking scenery all the way. Make it all the way out to the retreat center in time for dinner, in spite of stopping at Pizza Hut in Hilo to get a snack. The stranger I saw at the beach works in the kitchen at Kalani. Small, small world. I’m feeling inspired.

Friday, May 2
Great to spend time with new friends Ron and Brad. We go out to dinner at Ning’s, the Thai restaurant in beautiful downtown Pahoa. They invite me to come to volleyball Saturday afternoon, and they will lead me there after I turn onto the road to Opihikao.

Saturday, May 3
I get there to the turn off, and there they are, just like they said they would be. The game is fun and funny to watch. I even get out and knock the ball about a bit. At some point, I strike up a conversation with Luther, a 25-year-old who is touring the world while working on farms. I invite him to the art/fashion extravaganza that is happening that night at Emax at Kalani. He comes over with me. I have dinner while he has coffee and gets to meet some of my Kalani buds. We go for a swim and enjoy the spa. I drop him off at his place on the farm.

Sunday, May 4
I went to the Farmer’s Market in Kea’au, just before coming back to go to ecstatic dance. It takes me a while to get into it. But once I release my inhibitions, I’m just as playful and sweaty and energized as anyone else. I can see why for some people, this is there Sunday morning spiritual experience and regular practice. The rain is spectacular here … usually big deluges with no thunder or lightning, and then the rain's over.