Aloha Maholo

We left New York City at 7:00 a.m. on Tuesday morning and arrived in Honolulu at 7:30 p.m. on Tuesday (Hawaii time, which is six hours behind Eastern Standard Time). It was a series of long flights, but we were rewarded with a private room at the Polynesian Hostel in Waikiki, which included a ceiling fan and a bed that was neither upright nor flanked by strangers (the two reasons that make airplanes less than ideal for sleeping). It was already dark because the sun sets around 7:00 in Hawaii due to its proximity to the equator, so Pete and I fell asleep not long after our arrival.

The next morning Pete woke up around 5:00 and I slept until 6:30. Since check-out wasn't until 10:00 we decided to head down to Waikiki Beach, which happened to be less than two blocks from the hostel. The morning was cloudy, but there were already people in the water and a woman practicing Tai Chi on the sand. The ocean was warm and surprisingly shallow for quite a way out--we couldn't seem to get over our heads. The number of surfers was overwhelming, but they were farther down the beach, so we didn't have to dodge them.

After breakfast we hunted around for snorkel gear in some of the nearby surf shops. Now, the funny thing that you realize immediately upon arriving in Hawaii is that just about all of the cliches are true. The streets are decorated with Hawiian shirts, surf boards, and hibiscus flowers--there's really no escaping it. It's almost like being in a place that's trying to look like Hawaii rather than being in Hawaii itself. But it certainly takes getting used to, particularly the "aloha" and "maholo" (thank you) that seem to come from everyone you meet: waiters, flight attendants, cashiers, etc. At the surf shop where we bought the snorkels, the cashier said "aloha" to us as we placed the snorkels down for her to ring up. "Aloha," Pete answered, but he said it really self-consciously while looking away. "What?" I asked, thinking he was talking to me. "I thought she said "aloha" to me," he explained. The cashier nodded and chuckled. "We just got here," he said by way of explanation. I'm sure she gets it all the time.

Luckily we weren't in Waikiki that long. I know it's supposed to be a vacationers' paradise, but it was a crowded beach full of mega hotels with lots of generic-looking shopping and chain restaurants. I'm sure if you get out farther from the beach you find more interesting things, but we weren't there long enough to see them. By 10:15 we were back in a taxi and headed to the airport again. We wanted to take the shuttle but didn't realize you had to tell the hostel 2 hours in advance and you can't bring large luggage on the public bus. I guess the hostel worker who gave us that half-assed information didn't come to Hawaii in order to help the tourists. We should've known judging from his giant tattoo of a skull with a mohawk flanked by guns. It wasn't all bad though because the taxi driver forgot to put on his meter until about 10 minutes into the drive, so we got the forgetful-old-man-taxi-driver discount.

Elizabeth from Konacopia picked us up at the Kona airport around 1:00 today. It's a strange airport because it's all outside...literally. There are roofs to block out the sun for people waiting at their gates or claiming their baggage, but no walls anywhere. The drive to Captain Cook was surreal. The beaches in Kona are mainly lava rock, as is the general topography. Even at the farm, the lava rocks dominate, piling up between coffee trees and flowering bushes. It's a wonder anything can grow, but in fact everything grows.

Konacopia is abundant with wild guava, mangoes, bananas, avocados, pineapple, coconuts, cacao, coffee, jackfruit, macademia nuts, cashews, and so many other fruits that I can't remember. There's also a small vegetable garden. Some of the fruit is so ripe that it's just littering the ground. Pete picked a mango up off the ground and cut it open for us to eat (he cut the bug-infested parts off first). It's just amazing how fertile Hawaii is that the farmers can't seem to keep up with their crops. Even the fauna is abundant--we've already seen a mongoose, wild turkeys, wild chickens (I didn't know there was such a thing), and a few geckos.

I'm posting a picture of our living quarters below. We're in a screenhouse, which is on a wooden platform, and is covered by another tent on top, which extends out over the entire platform, giving us a "deck" on one side, complete with table and chairs, that overlooks Kealakekua Bay (framed by palm trees!). Our "kitchen" is a table with a camp stove and some pots and pans, but we have a fridge in the garage and a bath house with a real shower, toilet, and washing machine, which we share with the other young couple, Fran and Martin, who came here from London three weeks ago.


Here's the picture of our screenhouse. You can see our "kitchen" in the background thanks to Pete's new wide-angle lens. And yes, we have wireless internet.