Hawai'i

The following is from an essay I wrote years ago. It is amateur and needs some corrections, however the flaws reflect the author at the time it was written.

Clayton Ray Randell
English 101 Section Q
November 28th 2003
Assignment #3

Reflections On The South Pacific

My wife and I decided to move to Hawaii while we were on a trip there. A year later we arrived on the Big Island of Hawaii. We learned a lot about the world and ourselves in Hawaii. There are memories of things we will cherish and lessons we will never forget. Ultimately we realized that we could not stay.

In October of 1999, my girlfriend Lena and I were in Maui. Lena’s uncle Kevin paid for us to fly down from Washington for a cousin’s wedding. It was on the beach facing the Island of Lanai with the sun setting on the sea, we watched this young couple tie the knot.

A couple of days later Lena and I went to a sandy beach just south of the wedding site and went swimming. We were getting tan already. The experience that week was so great we were absolutely tranquil. The sun was warm and bright above us. The breezes were fresh and fragrant. Lena swam by me and I grabbed her. We swirled around in the small waves together. As we gazed at each other it was obvious that we were each looking at someone very special. The best part was we both knew it. Without saying a word we had connected on a level neither of us had ever experienced before. I nearly opened my mouth to ask her to marry me when I realized I did not have a ring. After our swim we had a great day sightseeing. Later on we enjoyed a sumptuous dinner at a fancy restaurant and then headed back to our hotel. As we passed mile marker 14 on the highway Lena turned the car off into the sand. Getting out of the car I realized that we were at the same beach where we had been earlier. The sun had set and in it’s place was an enormous and luminous moon. This heavenly body shone down on us and glinted off the warm waters. The smell of Plumeria wafted down to us from the hills as we sat down in the soft powdery sand. We were sitting quietly staring off into the distance when Lena began to cry. She put her delicate hand in mine and looked up at me with her golden brown eyes, welling up now with tears. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small object. The moonshine reflected off the ring and off Lena’s tears as they rolled down her cheeks. She started sobbing as she choked on the words, “Will you marry me?”

I took her shoulders in my arm, looked deep into her eyes and said, “Of course I will sweetheart.”

When I had been on the verge of asking her earlier that day I had stopped because I did not have a ring. Lena also was going to ask me at that same moment but she had left the ring at the hotel. Sneaky girl, she had bought one a couple of weeks before and was waiting for the right time. I can still conjure the image of her tearfully asking me to be with her forever, just as I can picture her gazing up at me from the sun soaked sea with her wet hair and beautiful smile. It was the same smile she was wearing the day I met her ten years ago.

The decision to live in Hawaii was made that week. Blue Hawaiian’s were drunk and coconut shrimp were eaten. We got a lot of sun and a lot of fresh air before we left, but it did not last us after we got home. The bug had infected us and we dreamed of going back. We began planning our return in conjunction with planning our wedding.

During that year we began getting our things in order to leave. We also started to inform our families about our decision and got a flood of opinions in return. My Dad said it would be a life experience. My mother said she would love to live there someday and that she would really miss us. My in-laws did not want us to go because it was too far away. Lena’s siblings were excited to have a place to stay in Hawaii. As soon as Lena’s grandmother heard we were moving, she told us we would be back.

Despite the varying opinions everyone wished us luck, especially at our wedding. We decided to have our ceremony ten days before we departed. We had saved as much money as we could and decided on a small wedding. If we had not seen a relative more than once the previous year, they were not invited. Only our most special friends and relatives were to come. About fifty siblings, parents and grandparents sat together in my father’s living room. It was short and sweet, with a very emotional speech from my sister in-law.

La Conner, Washington was a great place to have our first night as a married couple. Because of our limited luggage space the guests at our wedding were asked to bring gifts that would fit in an envelope. We were not disappointed. When all the money we had received was laid out on the bed it was enough to roll around in. The remainder of our honey moon was spent visiting people we new we would not see for awhile once we left for our new land.

Lena and I had considered which island to live on very carefully. There are really only three islands to choose from unless you are retiring and do not need to find work. Maui is beautiful and has wonderful snorkeling spots. However it is a relatively small island. There are many opportunities to find work on Oahu, but it is so populated that we might as well live in Seattle. We were left with the big island. It is large enough that we would not run out of things to do. Work was probable there as well, especially since Lena majored in Geography and wanted to work at the volcano observatory.

The flight was uneventful as we traveled to Hawaii on September 20th, 2000. Standing in front of the terminal in Hawaii midday we had all of our worldly possessions with us. The whole of our material existence was enclosed in two large duffel bags and two backpacks. This included some clothes and toiletries. An electric keyboard was our only luxury besides our snorkel gear. I will never forget the feeling of liberation. We could go anywhere and do anything. We had nothing holding us down to any location; no car, no house, no children or bills. Our path was at our own discretion.

Where do we go? At our wedding my grandfather mentioned a place that he and my grandmother had stayed while they were on a trip once. What I should have remembered about my grandpa is that he squeezes nickels till the buffalo cries. The guy is tighter than the skin on a sausage. After renting a car we headed for the hotel he had recommended. It was after dark when we arrived at the hotel. Upon entering through the front door we were greeted by swarms of far off locations depicted on postcards wherever there was room on the walls amongst the stuffed animal heads and bug displays. An overly sweaty man gave us our key and we headed up the stairs.

Our first night was one you do not forget. The room we were in was eight feet by six feet. I was unable to set our luggage on the floor and still open the door. A red glow was coming in our window and when I pulled the blind I was staring directly at the hotels 10-foot neon sign hanging not more than eighteen inches away. The glare was so bright even with the blinds pulled, that I could read by it. Undaunted we got into bed. Moments later the screaming began. Out in the hallway was a payphone. It was necessary to have a phone out in the hallway, as there were no phones in the rooms. One of the other patrons of the hotel was arguing and complaining with someone about how they were having a hard time getting welfare checks because of their 'baby's daddy' being in prison. At first I did not understand why this women’s voice was so loud until I looked above the door. A two-foot screen was above each door in the hotel. Anyone with a small stool or a box could easily look in on us. Despite the hour long rant on the phone we eventually got to sleep. Around one in the morning I was awakened by something. As I became conscious I could clearly see by the neon light, a two-inch cockroach crawling across my chest. I swatted it off of me and could hear its body hit the wall and then the floor. Un-phased by my assault, the cockroach immediately ran along the wall and under our door. The ordeal that night so upset my wife we decided to call home from a phone up the street. The next day we started looking for a new place to stay.

Sitting in an empty bar the following day I was getting drunk at our new hotel. Uncle Billy’s in Hilo is a fabulous place to sit inebriated and read a book. I felt a little like Hemingway. Soaking up alcohol and sun in a tropical clime. For a cheap hotel the ambiance was not that bad. The courtyard had a lot of noisy birds chattering and squawking from sun up to sun down. The kitchenette in our room was saving us a lot of money since we were not going out to eat all the time. Uncle Billy’s was our base of operations while we searched for jobs and a house to rent.

Renting a house or apartment in Hawaii is not the same as it is in Washington. We were told by a couple of rental agencies that we would have to fill out a credit application for every house or apartment we were interested in and then wait 3-14 days for the O.K. from the owner, just to view the place. It was obvious to me that we were getting the run around. When Lena and I would walk into these places they would look up at us and then go back to whatever they were doing. We had to actually knock on the counter to get help, and the help we got was from irritated natives. The situation we were caught in is that we had to pay Uncle Billy’s $400 a week while we waited two-weeks just to see a place and there was no guarantee that we would be approved. Most people would have been at a loss, but we kept at it.

In the meantime we did our best to familiarize ourselves with the surrounding and get our licenses. The process to get a license was not difficult; we filled out a form and turned in our Washington licenses. The clerk at the DMV asked us if we wanted to register to vote with our applications. Checking a box on the form was apparently all that was needed. Since the 2000 election was approaching I was excited to get registered.

Now that we had local licenses we could apply for “kamaaina” rates. This is a discount from car rentals, airlines and grocery stores. It is for residents and since we were determined to be just that Lena and I took full advantage. It helped us out a lot since our funds were getting low. Another bonus cash wise was the local farmers market. Every Wednesday and Friday the local farmers and hippies would get together and sell their wares. You could get star fruit and fish, jewelry and clothes and lizards and baked goods. These little kids would walk around trying to sell the scads of bumpy reptiles that were crawling all over them.

When we weren’t at the market we were trying to find work. Lena was shut out of the Volcano Observatory. They told her that hundreds of applications were received every month and that it would be a year before they would consider her. I did not fair much better. The unemployment office was very polite, especially when they explained to me that I was not likely to be able to find work since people tended to hire family members. This is convenient since most of the natives consider each other cousins in some way or another. That pretty much meant that a white kid like me was out of luck. I am glad for their honesty though. They could have sent me to work where I was not welcome and risked my neck.

I eventually found work at Sears in the mall. I was assigned by a former Oregonian to work with a former Californian supervisor in the warehouse. I was to handle bedding. The work was all right for a start. I enjoy organizing things and working with my hands. The problem was that all the rest of the employees were natives and I was not. Generally my coworkers were not in my way. They were however, not the least bit helpful in answering questions or helping me out. Usually they would roll their eyes, making fun of me in pigeon English and local slang. When they did talk to me it was as though I was five years old and mentally handicapped. I do not think it was patronizing, I think they genuinely felt I was just another dumb white boy or “haole”.

I was riding my Wal-Mart bike 3 miles to work and 3 miles home every day. The exercise was great and it normally only rained just before lunch. Looking up at the mountain in the morning was a real treat. Crisp golden colors were accentuated by the texture and curves of the rocks and trees on the hills. This display of gorgeous scenery kept alive my hope for this island despite where my ride took me every morning. My ride started from our new apartment in the middle of town.

After three weeks we made a last ditch effort at a complex called Waimea Village. This place was willing to take us on a days notice. When we moved in and started to look around we found out why. One of the buildings had burned to the ground a couple years earlier and the ruins of the foundation were still visible. The building across the aisle from ours was closed. Part of the structure had fallen down due to rot and was uninhabitable. When we had a rainstorm our apartment drowned in a half-inch of standing water in the bedroom.
Living on top of each other with no T.V. was an experience for Lena and me. Both of us learned a lot about what the other one liked or did not like. Most importantly we learned a great deal about what we wanted personally. We grew and matured more in the two months we spent in Hawaii than in the two years we had already known one another.

One jaunt we took into the inner island saw us to a great gaping maw in the hills. A steep stairwell carried us down thirty feet into what was the front porch to a course of underground pathways. In Hawaii’s turbulent volcanic past floods of lava stories thick and wide ran down the slopes to the sea. When the outer edges of the flow hardened, it enclosed a torrent of raging magma. When Mauna Loa ceased heaving pools of molten rock, the lava in these shells of crust ran out and left tubes and tunnels. Carefully picking our way over the rubble we made our way into the cave. Forty meters was all the farther we could go. Without flashlights we would not be able to see. Luck was on our side this day, for just as we were climbing back out a whole troop of grade-schoolers came bouncing down the stairs. These cheerful cherubs and their teacher were more than happy to share their light with us. All thirty kids seemed to either be experts in caves or new explorers of them. We had our own tour guides and surveyors with us as we plied the depths. When we had spelunked hundreds of feet the teacher informed his students that they were going to be part of an experiment. He reached into his backpack and pulled out several cylindrical objects and handed them to his helpers. They each broke the cylinders and began passing out the contents to everyone else. When they got to Lena and me it was agreed that there were enough to go around and we each were given a minty Wint-O-green Lifesaver. The flashlights were all put out and we were thrown into utter darkness. Lena and I held hands to be sure we were facing one another and bit our candies. Far below the surface we ferreted out the truth behind a rumor. You do see a spark when you bite a lifesaver in the dark. Besides the important scientific work we did that day we saw just how fun it was going to be to have kids of our own. I also learned that love grows in tiny increments; a shared smile, a moment holding hands, laughing with children and seeing sparks in the dark.

November was fast approaching and I started to wonder where my voter registration card was. I eventually went to city hall to find out what the hold up was. Apparently when I filled out my license application I filled in my P.O. Box number for my address. I was not informed by the clerk who took the form nor was I informed by mail or phone call that my application needed a physical address. After waiting for hours to get things straightened out the bottom line was, even if I did get it fixed I would not be eligible in time to vote in the next election. I sat in disgust and watched George Junior buy the election without having the opportunity to even cast a vote. Upon talking to a local activist and political organizer I found out that unprocessed voter registration applications were not unusual. In fact many of the ones that came from his Green Party headquarters disappeared. Each of the applications that came to him from the local government had numbers indicating the location where they were filled out making it all to easy to single them out.

Being singled out became a regular occurrence for Lena and I. We would get stink-eye when traveling around the island. Stink-eye is a stare you get from the locals when you are somewhere they don’t want you. We would get the stare at beaches and trails. Even in grocery stores we would have people grunt at us. Once in a video store Lena was nearly pushed down by someone bumping in to her. The message was clear to us.
Two-months into our adventure we were faced with a decision; our funds were getting low, either we went back to the states now or we would be stuck in Hawaii. After much deliberation we decided that we could have succeeded in Hawaii, it just was not worth it. We made plans to be back home for Christmas. I stopped going to my job and we spent the last two weeks enjoying the sights.

We went swimming with dolphins and turtles in the sea. We visited the Waikoloa Hilton in Kona, where the rooms start at $250 and end at $15 grand a night. Lava flows were also on our list of sights. Renting a GMC Jimmy we drove to a remote corner of the island. After two hours of driving, the road ended. The pavement ran smooth and straight right until it wentb under huge black pillows of lava rock.

The man with no fingers was waiting there. He was a scientist from Ireland who also wanted to visit the lava flows. He had rented a Camaro and it was not capable of traveling over the loose rock and debris. Since he looked harmless enough and was terribly polite we offered him a ride. A full hour passed while we crossed the expanse of broken rock. There came a point when we simply could not get any farther. The clear sky was reaching twilight. Seeing in the distance an orange glow we clambered out of our Jimmy and started walking.

The diversity of rock that we saw was unbelievable. Rivulets and ridges of black and gray stone twisted and contorted all around us. Fissures and mounds surrounded us for miles. The whole scene became extraterrestrial once the darkness of night had closed in around us. I located a flashlight with a narrow handle suitable for our fingerless companion to operate. I gave a flashlight to Lena and when are torches were all lit; we really began to see the beauty of the rocks. Iridescent plates of glass lay strewn about, some jagged, some dissolving into other forms. I found clumps of what looked like hair in several places. Upon further inspection what we were looking at was strands of glass. As the lava flowed down the mountain during the original flow the outer edges and the top of the molten river cooled and hardened. Great sheets of rock would then spin and cartwheel, tumbling over other stones and boulders. Like taffy, strands of glass would stretch and pull from these roiling pieces.

If we had not made it to where the lava was still pouring into the ocean I would have never believed what we were looking at was natural. Hawaii is known for warm breezes however as the orange glow we had been pursuing became brighter we suddenly felt a heat that was far from tropical. A great steamy breathe and belches of brimstone came on the wind long before we found the lava. Nearing a bluff we were awed to see a huge plume of vapor and smoke ahead. Soon the sweat on our foreheads was no longer from exertion. Just as we began to worry that perhaps the flow of magma was running beneath our feet we discovered our destination.

I can scarcely convey in words the feeling that coursed through my blood and bones. There are few experiences I have had with nature that come close. Seeing Mars or the rings of Saturn through a telescope for the first time. Watching a total eclipse of the sun when I was little. Staring down into the gorges in Eastern Washington or staring up at the redwoods in California. These sites are amazing in their own way. What the three of us saw that night was made even more dramatic by the interplay of opposites. The flow of lava was only visible at the edge of the sea. Watching the vibrant warm honey of the earth’s blood mix and splash with the amniotic fluid of all life left us dumbfounded. Braving the heat we peered over the edge of a serrated ridge. We could only get as close as we were because of the shifting ocean breeze. Despite our barrier of stone we were still almost a mile away. The ultimate expression of yin and yang was playing itself out before us. Hot stone pouring into the ocean, trying to cover and fill it up. The ocean spewing a toxic mist into the air and freezing the flow into falling chunks and pebbles. Waves of dark salt water assaulted the coursing river of light. In the presence of such a wonder of nature we three became temporary friends. Trudging back to our truck we told each other much about our lives.

The rest of our time in paradise was spent laying in the sand, absorbing the rays of the sun. When our tans were at their best we got on a plane with our two duffle bags and two backpacks. Leaving on that plane was not a defeat for me. I accomplished a goal and found out I was more capable than I had ever dreamed. Despite what it cost us financially we would not trade that time for anything.

Prejudice was not something I was expecting to find in paradise. The locals who made a living off of us were all too happy to smile and serve us. At restaurants, hotels and bars we were royalty. At beaches, parks and local swimming holes we were another pair of damn tourists. After two months in Hawaii I began to notice a change in my attitude. Some pasty idiot with khaki shorts and long black socks regularly inconvenienced me. Old men in rental cars unable to pick a speed to drive or a lane to be in, irritated me to no end. If I had to listen to another dumb broad from Michigan complain about her pancakes or the price of macadamia nuts I was liable to erupt like Kilauea. I did not enjoy being discriminated against in housing and employment. I do not think that the locals in Hawaii are entirely to blame though. The issue is respect. Few people respect the Hawaiian culture and since not many Hawaiians do either it is difficult to interact together. I miss the scent of wild flowers. In my mind I can still see the lava flowing into the sea. Having fresh fruit and vegetables everyday was a wonderful treat. While I would love to go back, I know that it is not a place for me to live. When Lena and I left for Hawaii we were trying to find out where we wanted to be. We were looking for our way of life. When we left Hawaii we realized that no matter where we went, we were that way of life.