Three Must-See On Oah'u

If one is in Honolulu for a short stay, there are three must-see places on the island. They are: the ’Iolani Palace, the Polynesian Cultural Center and Pearl Harbor. This was according to the docent we met at ’Iolani Palace yesterday.
After waking up to another gray, drizzly morning, Bubba still thought we should explore. (I don’t have a problem staying indoors, in our view-friendly high-rise apartment, furnished with two plasma screen TVs. Though, I still prefer reading and have been picking up the Honolulu Advertiser on a daily basis.) Upon Bubba’s suggestion to head out, I decided we should visit ’Iolani Palace, a few blocks away. We admired a pretty gazebo along our pathway to the palace, only realizing later that this was the coronation spot of King Kalakaua and his Queen Kapiolani in 1883. The docent was right, ’Iolani is absolutely worth the visit at $12 admission. The palace is not overwhelming and looks more like a huge mansion but with a stately aura. We received audio handsets and a map and went on our self-guided tour after being issued a pair of blue hospital shoe covers to put over our shoes (so as not to scuff the Palace’s original koa floors). We took two hours to go through the palace’s two levels and the basement. Bubba said it was a very enjoyable history lesson. We walked through the grand interior, visiting each room and learned that it was the very first royal home to have electric lights, flushing toilets, hot and cold water faucets and a telephone, all custom built under the reign of King Kalakaua in 1882. Even Buckingham Palace did not have these things at the time. The worldly King and Queen loved to welcome international visitors and dignitaries by hosting banquets and balls. Our audio handset narration included background music and voices, bringing alive the heyday of the monarchy when the Royal Hawaiian Band would play on the verandas of the palace while the tropical tradewinds blew over from the picturesque Pacific just two blocks away. Today the palace is sparsely furnished as most of its relics were auctioned off after Queen Lili’uokalani was deposed by the US in 1893 but official annexation of Hawai'i wasn’t declared until 1898. We also learned that ’Iolani is the only royal palace in all of the USA, since our country was founded as a republic. Bubba and I spent the rest of the day emphatically thinking about the Hawaiian people and how the Queen peacefully stepped down from her throne to avoid potential bloodshed and conflict (though she was imprisoned for eight months inside the palace by the new provisional government). She did not issue a command to her people to take up arms.
At this moment, I am so impressed and refreshed by the attitude of the Hawaiians. We stand to learn a lot from them, their peaceful, easygoing nature. While we witness a slew of active separatist movements all around the world (some violent, some peaceful), such as the IRA, Tamils, Tibetans, Kurdish, Assyrians, Basque, Québécois and the list goes on, it is remarkable to see how the Hawaiian people overall, unresistingly adapted. In the face of such growing diversity on their islands today, the resourceful Hawaiians are so successful at espousing their own rituals and preserving their customs that even foreigners are inspired to join in. The hypnotic music, the magical hula, the arts and crafts, the luau and the idea of ‘aloha-aina' are passionately embraced and happily practiced by the outsider. -Long live the Hawaiian Heritage.

Hawaiian Goods

We woke up to two days of gray skies here in Oahu but the temps are still in the high 70s. We are still walking around in flip-flops, shorts and tank tops. The rain was heavier yesterday but it subsides quick.
Bubba and I are getting better acquainted with everything around us. Although, we are not in Waikiki, we are discovering that we are strategically located. We are in the heart of the financial district. We are a stone’s throw from Chinatown. Bus stops surround us on all blocks that take us around the island. There is a Long’s Drug Store downstairs in our building. Bubba and I run down there to pick up something at least once a day. I am in awe to find fish cake and sushi rolls in their dairy aisle. Their candy aisle is also filled with the dried fruits and rice cracker varieties normally found only in Asian markets. There is also a Safeway grocer a short walk away. Bubba and I went there, the second day we got here, with our roll-able luggage so we could stock up on groceries for the month. I also grabbed a big pack of toilet paper. Bubba sat the toilet paper on top of the luggage, as the inside was already full, and pulled it on our walk back to our apartment. We held hands and talked most of the way. We had people around us as we walked and it wasn’t until we were at the corner of our building that I noticed the toilet paper was gone. The entire 12-roll pack! Bubba figured it fell, since it wasn’t tied down. I suspected that we were the victims of TP thievery! We did see some homeless folks lingering. If the TP fell, someone would have alerted us. I traced our footsteps all the way back to Safeway and nothing. I thought it was a rather unusual Hawaiian welcome after that day.
It’s week two and Bubba and I are getting a better sense of our surroundings now. I found two excellent and addictive tapioca drink shops in the Maunakea Marketplace in Chinatown. Their drinks are much bigger here. For less than $3, all tapioca drinks come in 24-oz cups and fresh, fresh fruits are used for the smoothies. There is also a 24-Hour Fitness down the street where I'll try to talk my way into a free pass (but New Year's is their busiest time).
I have made a list of must have knick-knacks before leaving here. Bubba has already shipped cases of macadamia chocolates and cookies home to family and friends. What I want is a gorgeous sterling silver bangle, I see the island girls wear. It is a bracelet etched with plumerias and the word “kuuipo” on it, meaning, sweetheart.
Next week, we will have a rental car and we will drive around the island so we can see every edge of it. I heard about the swap meet at the “stadium” and will make sure Bubba makes a stop there first. If for some reason, we don’t find everything, we will make a final shopping stop at the International Market Place in Waikiki. We know it well, after all, that is where Bubba found me a coconut bra and a faux lei.

A Foreign Sensation

The wedding we came to Hawaii for has passed. The ceremony and reception took place at the Hale Koa (pronounce: holly ko-a) an impressive military-owned and operated hotel in Waikiki. We have been so busy attending parties leading up to this wedding. It was the marriage of two of Bubba’s top Army students. The bride, who is a Hawaiian native, spent four years studying in San Francisco and was able to rely on Bubba for guidance and support. She often referred to him as her ‘surrogate’ dad and therefore we were welcomed to all the private family functions. We joined her family on multiple get-togethers, gaining a taste of islander life.
We rode with the family in their vehicles to their neighborhoods near the North Shore and were served up a variety of ono dishes. We had barbequed oysters, piles of fresh sashimi, taco poke (marinated octopus and squid) and lasagna. We saw the terrain of rising lush green mountains, rolling canyons, pineapple fields and banana trees. We are also guaranteed to see at least three rainbows a day…as it is the rainy season. In between the warm, sunny and blue skies, rain will suddenly come down, but only in droplets, lightly misting the skin.
I have been hit by a particularly strong and unusual impression while traveling around town by bus and foot. It is the impression that I am not on American soil. For some reason, it is this combination of sights: the islanders (dark hair and tan skin—of either Asian or Polynesian descent), the residential high-rises and the casual attire and attitude that falsely causes me to think that I am overseas…somewhere in Asia.
The mere act of US annexation of a century ago does not override the fact that this is a tropical isle strongly rooted to its Polynesian heritage. I am again under this deceptive ‘overseas’ trance when I watch the exotic hula dance performed while a melodious vowel-laced chant (laden with the consonant-k) is sung against the beat of a drum. There are moments I have flashbacks of Macau and Hong Kong as I look up at all the high-rises in Honolulu and Waikiki.
Our last taxi driver told me that high-rise condos are sold out before they are even built and he is perplexed. Well, perhaps it’s the blue skies, blue water, sunshine, sand and surf, the ono food and the laid-back island feel....
For me, it’s all of the above. It’s being welcomed with a smile and a cheerful ‘aloha’ wherever we go. I even asked Bubba if he’d be interested in staying on another month....

Warm Winter Wonderland

We flew into Honolulu on Monday, almost a week already. Bubba and I have been bitten by the ‘Polynesian-Paralysis’ bug, as my native-islander friend, Lou would term it. The weather is so warm and inviting and I wished I brought more summer clothes. Bubba likes how the heat feels on his body and remarks often how clean the air is. We took a taxi and found our way up to our condo with ease on day one.
Our bedroom is on the 21st floor with tall glass windows facing west. Since we are in downtown Honolulu, we have a view of the surrounding business high rises but we are also able to see the busy harbor and the Pacific. Waikiki is actually 2.5 miles away. I scanned a handful of literature (found this to be my favorite piece) prior to beginning our exploration on foot. We figured out the bus system right away, riding them to Waikiki everyday. On day two, I chose a morning walk through Chinatown after reading that there are tapioca drinks and Vietnamese sandwiches to be found. I also learned that leis are absurdly cheap here in this district as opposed to the prices at the airport and Waikiki. The typical purple orchid goes for $25 at the airport, $10 in Waikiki but I found it at Lin’s flower shop in Chinatown for only $3. I bought a variety of the life-like foam flower clips for my hair for only $3. (Single girls wear it on the right and committed girls on the left.)
While produce shopping, I noticed the scarcity of variety for sale. Back in SF, it is normal to find lettuce and celery stalks sold by the quantity but here it’s by weight. I suppose that the island can’t grow too much produce as most of its land is committed to sugar cane, macadamia nuts and pineapples. Hawaii is actually the name of the biggest island. When we refer to Hawaii, we could be referring to any of the string of islands out here, with the six largest considered the main islands. We are currently on the island of Oah’u. It is seat to the state’s capital, Honolulu. Waikiki is here and it is indeed a tourist phenomenon. From the towering Hilton to the Hyatt hotels, tourists can stroll on over to the shores of Waikiki Beach in a few steps. Bubba and I spent part of the day sunning in our street clothes, carving ourselves a square in the sand amidst the bustling, international sun and surf-seeking crowd. We watched as perfect-bodied teenage girls pranced through Kalakaua Avenue, pronounced: Kala-ko-a, (a strip that resembles a longer Rodeo Drive, with its trendy, upscale shops) in their mini bikinis and people of all ages toting giant surf boards heading to and away from the beach.
Our 30-day vacation here is already passing by much too fast. Bubba wants to get away from this concrete jungle to find the waterfalls and the rock formations…and we will likely rent a car in search of those things. The words, ‘paradise found’ echoes constantly in my ear, when we stare out at the blue pacific ocean and feel the hot, golden sun drumming on our skin. What a warm, wonderland we are experiencing this winter.

Lifelong Pain Management

Bubba’s recent neuro-cauterization procedure on his feet at the VA Hospital (which entails the burning of nerve endings to eliminate chronic pain) will be a regular part of his medical routine. In my last five years with Bubba, I am guilty of being rather lackadaisical in my attitude towards his degree of ‘pain and suffering’. During these years of cohabitation, waking up at night to find him afflicted by his insomnia is natural to me. I have also become accustomed to seeing him ball up into the fetal position with a pained look on his face daily, waiting for his medication to kick in. I listen to him wish out loud that he could be given a new set of feet. Every morning, I set a thermos cup of hot tea (black, peach flavored-his favorite) on his nightstand while he is in his period of deepest slumber. Upon waking, he reaches for the cup of tea to help down his handful of pills so he can begin to function upright within a few hours. I haven’t really considered the degree of torment he endures. Bubba suggested to his doctors he may suffer from fibromyalgia (he identifies with the symptoms), but they did not concur. Bubba was steered away from expecting an exact diagnosis leading to a cure and rather to accept a lifelong management of his pain via prescribed drugs.
It was the part of ‘no cure versus management’ that provoked me to really sense Bubba’s pain. When I broke my foot this summer, the inability to walk irritated me. The annoying throbbing and deep, internal pain of the broken bone kept me up some nights but alas, in my case, bones grow back.
What Bubba suffers is irreversible damage to his body from the numerous assignments he executed as a special-operations soldier. The parachuting into foreign territory in the dead of night, the bearing of excess weight of the survival gear strapped to him, the trekking of miles upon miles of varied terrain in varying temps in a pair of heavy combat boots, and most of all, the mental and physical strain required to ensure his own survival and of his brothers-in-arms...these missions broke his body.
It was this sudden empathy with Bubba's persistant pain that led me to find Joan Didion’s book, The Year of Magical Thinking. She lost her husband, abruptly, one night, over dinner, when he collapsed from a coronary at the dining table. Her book records the immediate year in which she has to cope with his absence. We get a peek into her wavering mind. She forgets he is gone then she struggles with the absoluteness of it all, then her mind deceives her with vivid memories (afterall, they were married for 40-years) and then she delves into the science of it by understanding the exact nature of a heart-attack and how the human body expires.
The story compelled me to reflect on developing more patience and love. Bubba has spent his life struggling with survival and coping with the loss of his own father, a veteran of the Vietnam War. Didion’s words reminded me on the frailty of life and the need to preserve each moment in harmony. We are resigned to mere memories in the end.

The Golden Rule of Garage Sales

In between the wrapping of knick knack Christmas gifts and card writing (to a list of global recipients) and daily runs to the UPS counter, I have managed to avoid writing anything at all on my blog. This whole weekend was also committed to overseeing a garage sale solo, without Bubba. (He's resting after a neuro-cauterization procedure on his feet.) At first, I didn’t like the idea of manning a garage sale alone. Sometimes a swarm of people will come all at once and their demands will scatter me thin: to collect on a sale, to negotiate with bargain hunters, to watch out for the less ethical and to discipline the ultra curious and energetic kids. I also have this habit of recording everything that is sold. But, it all turned out just fine this weekend. There’s an art to selling that we are mastering with each progressive sale. In our case, we already got rid of all the big ticket stuff, now we’re just selling excess...still likely some other person’s treasure. The secret is to let it go cheap. Buyers will feel they’ve hit the jackpot and my small earnings will add up with every piece I sell. For instance, Bubba just cleaned closet and threw out some nice button shirts and slacks. I hung them all up and priced them at a dollar. (What we don't end up selling, we'll donate anyhow.) On a recent visit to Goodwill, I saw such a considerable mark-up on their recycled goods. I was shocked to see a $15 price tag on a used, aged purse (not even luxury brand). I figured I’m doing some bargain hunter a favor by letting them pick from my assortment at rock bottom prices. So this whole weekend, I called out prices just in case some were too bashful to inquire. I’d say, “That’s 50 cents and all the clothes here are $1.00.”
The neighbors on the block all say they can’t muster up the energy or the audacity to sell from their garage. I think I also do it as a social experiment. It is entertaining to observe people shop and sometimes an acquaintanceship is formed. Random conversations are struck up over a piece of item. The pile of maps we are selling for a dime each, for instance, led to a gentleman informing me he is originally from Boston. Then, I told him we just drove across the country. Then he proceeded to tell me he is an artist and did drawings for newspapers in the 70’s in Boston. The newspapers he worked on then became the prototype for newspapers such as the SF Weekly and the Bay Guardian today, he informed. I told him the newsroom is also familiar to me as I have a Journalism degree and our banter continued for awhile and concluded with us shaking hands though no sale ensued from this particular scenario. Now and then, we encounter folks who are delighted to meet real veterans for the first time and they almost, always pose the identical question of whether military life is agreeable.
December has been a busy month for us, what with Bubba’s birthday, my mom’s birthday and the Christmas cheer we are wrapping up and shipping all over the globe. I’m looking forward to checking into our Waikiki condo when we leave for Hawaii next week.
To steal a little escape, I curled up with another book. This one by Joan Didion, a writer whose essays I recall reading in college. Her book, The Year of Magical Thinking documents her journey as she processes her husband’s sudden death. I finished the book in two days, completely absorbed by the author’s unremitting walks down memory lane. Not to inundate my readers with a text heavy book report, I’ll save my thoughts on Didion’s intense oeuvre for another entry.

Bubba's Birthday Bash

We celebrated Bubba’s birthday yesterday. I was able to pull off a nicely cooked Korean meal of bulgogi and side dishes consisting of rice, pickled cucumbers and bean sprouts. A few of Bubba’s Army students came over to join us in the celebration. We picked up some take-out of fried rice, chow-mein, fried drummettes and kimbap to round out the smorgasbord of goodies. While prepping several dishes all at once in an orderly fashion, I managed to bake a brownie cake at the same time for Bubba. Worrying about the food getting cold as we were setting the dining table, Bubba advised us to dig in quickly. In our haste to eat, we forgot to take pictures of the delightfully crowded table of platters. We managed to snap a few shots of Bubba blowing out the candles on his brownie cake at the end of the night but that was all.
We even forgot to take pictures as he opened up his presents. I successfully picked up a piece of mineral jet for him and a bottle of his favorite aftershave by Eddie Bauer on his little girl, Kat’s, behalf. I gave Bubba a heated, back massager seat and his older daughter gave him a book he requested by Bill Bryson. His Army students gave him the movie 300 and a pecan pie with Martinelli’s cider to celebrate.
We flipped through our DVD case to decide on a movie to wind down the night with. We thought Elf would be an appropriate seasonal pick but instead selected Malibu’s Most Wanted to get a good laugh out of Jamie Kennedy’s performance.
I parted with the movie, Amélie from my personal collection by loaning it to one of the students. I watched this movie five times in France, where the actual title of the movie is: Le fabuleux destin d’Amélie Poulain. I only rediscovered the film recently when I suggested that my friend with the new condo watch the movie for interior decorating ideas. For nostalgic reasons, I decided I had to own the movie. I haphazardly stumbled upon a new copy for a reasonable $20 at Green Apple Books a week ago, much less than the used copies advertised on Amazon.
And...just as I suspected, the movie incited me to daydream and long: I'm speaking in a foreign tongue, making my way around Paris riding the metro daily (well, let’s pretend there isn’t a transit strike), wandering along the banks of the Seine and buying a fresh baguette loaf before going home to my own little space in that part of the world.--Hmmm, gonna have to work on my power of persuasion with Bubba....