Aloha Again

Trying to write while sitting on our balcony in Poipu Beach, Kauai, but the whales are just so darn distracting. Spouting, cavorting, doing belly flops. Every time I try to look away, they draw me back. Oh, look. There it is again. A spout. A fluke. Just magnificent. Eric swears he can smell the whales. He may have read Moby Dick one too many times.  

I absolutely love Hawaii. Mostly because my skin is happy here. And when my skin is happy, I'm happy. Over the years I've been to a couple other tropical places. Belize, the Yucatan. For me, Hawaii is better. You can drink the water. You can eat the food and brush your teeth without fear. It's part of our country. The currency and language are the same.  

You can also slip in and out of Hawaii without being witness to soul crushing poverty. I already feel bad about destitute people with no hope for the future. I don't need to see sad, skinny kids begging when I'm on my vacation. I'm worried that I can't really afford the trip in the first place. Maybe it was a poor financial decision on my part. Maybe those folks made similar poor financial decisions and look at them. See where I'm going with this? I may have a problem with over-empathizing.

Hawaii also has the "aloha spirit". Traditionally, "aloha" in the Hawaiian language meant affection, peace, compassion and mercy. Good stuff. Now it really means a welcoming culture. Locals seem so warm and kind to children, although it doesn't pay to generalize. Or mess with the wrong dudes. My step-brother, Peter, lost his life in a drug deal gone bad on Oahu. So not aloha.

A couple things about Hawaii just crack me up. The Haole couples with his and hers Hawaiian outfits. She's wearing the new dress in a loud, floral print and he's got on the male counterpart, also in bright colors. You've got to love the vacation impulse - to buy what you wouldn't be caught dead in later. Also the strange artwork and souvenirs one will purchase when traveling. We've all done it. Much of the tourist economy is based on it.

I also love the exercisers. You're in one of the most beautiful places on earth yet you work out on a treadmill, just like home. A treadmill? Why not bring along the millstone for around your neck? The power walkers are slightly better. All ear buds and fanny packs, they walk with grim determination, but at least they're outdoors. The ones who walk along the busy road in the mid-day sun really confuse me. People, you're in Hawaii. Go jump in the ocean and take a swim  

Tropical vacations have their own stresses. All the sun and swimming take a toll. I've had trips where each day I felt more tired than the day before. Happy, but a little exhausted. That may have been when the girls were young and they just never stopped. The requests all ran together. Mommycanwegotothebeachnow? Mommyletsgotothepool. And so on. The pace is pretty mellow with the two of us, though Hawaii does dictate a certain schedule. One MUST be up to see the sun rise. You also have to be in place for the setting sun. It's mandatory. You just don't want to miss it.    

There is a gentleness to the air here that is so soothing. You can see people, obviously in their final hours on the island, soaking it all in. Like they're trying to remember it - now wonderful it all feels. Hoping to take it home with them. I'm pretty sure there's a trick here. You remember it well enough to know you want to replicate the experience, but not well enough to internalize it. Why is it so difficult to really learn things - even simple stuff? Like how to breathe when you're feeling anxious. To put in your contacts before applying lotion.  

I love the rhythm of a beach vacation. The lazy hours with books and magazines. Lying on the sand just staring off towards the horizon. The smell of the sunscreen and all the layers of dried salt on my skin. The naps. When you shower at the end of the day you can inspect the tan lines and burned places and think about boat drinks and where to go for dinner. Repeat the next day.     

I'm so sad it's almost time to go home. It's been way too short. Oh well. It's not so great here, anyway. All the hours with nothing but leisure, no deadlines. The peace, the quiet. What's the fun in that? It's not even all that quiet. The waves constantly roaring in the background. Pounding pounding. So relaxing you can't even remember which day it is. Who needs it? And day after day sunrise, sunset. Sunrise, sunset.