Life Comes At Us Fast, Just Do It

My irritating cough has exited my system, finally.
On Tuesday, glimpsing the sun after so much rain, I motivated myself to hit that outdoor jogging trail here. Bubba followed me by car to keep an eye on me in case of an encounter with hungry wildlife. The off-road trail was very wet and muddy but I still got 3-miles in. I only did part of the circuits dotted along my winding trail, which included jumping jacks, knee lifts, pull-ups and push-ups. In the lowland areas surrounded by tall grass and marshlands, out of Bubba’s view, I kept running as I imagined a mountain lion or bear lingering, camouflaged. We have seen families of deer coexisting peacefully here in the residential neighborhoods, going about their way unfazed. Their presence signifies other beast of prey around, Bubba said.
I capped off my run by forcing my fatigued legs up a steep incline. The PT got my heart, lung and veins working extra hard after such a long break. My skin took on a nice rosy shade. It felt exceptional. Hula Hoopin' is my other form of workout. I now challenge myself to hoop in blocks of time while I attempt new tricks. I'd like to learn some choreographed moves.

I have started a real effort to materialize this idea of creating my very own website, aptly named, JetsetJuliet. The purpose and content shall remain mum at the moment. I pitched my idea to my cousin and her husband, well-versed IT folks. They have offered their knowledge and support despite their own packed schedules. Treating their expertise as a last resort, I have begun tackling my plethora of questions via research such as how to secure a domain name and how to register a trademark.
I am also resolving to teach myself the basics of web design. I have been studying the layout of websites. Bubba took me to Borders Books to buy one of those “For Dummies” book. Armed with this technical, jargon-heavy manual and a notepad full of scribbled notes and half concocted mission and vision statements, I am feeling quite overwhelmed. It may be more than a one-woman project. I may have to recruit some of my close friends to help with streamlining my content ideas. I keep force-feeding myself the quote: “What would you do if you knew you could not fail?” to remind myself that I don’t really have anything to lose, afterall a website is merely a continuous work in progress.
Well, when it rains, it pours. My genius brother also called recently to propose a business project that could be fiscally beneficial to me. I would have to take the reigns and nurture the development while he provides the initial investment. It will be a whole separate, secondary project alongside mine. It’s funny to see how radically opposite my brother and I are. He places a very high priority on generating wealth. He is a successful Wall Street guy. I, on the other hand, can live off a stipend by budgeting. I am the type that can camp out in a dorm room on vacation while my brother is the type to seek out luxury accommodations.
Speaking of traveling, Bubba has plans to start out for the other side of the USA again before spring. We want to hang out with our friends in Oklahoma with the castle home. We also want to make our way closer to Kat, his maturing younger daughter. We’ve already missed her high school beauty pageant. She was nominated to represent her freshman class and she won the Miss Congeniality title. A few weeks ago she also won a part in her school’s Homecoming Court.
It’ll be another busy year of traveling. Come autumn, hopefully we’ll be on my overseas agenda to Korea.
Life comes at us fast. In the meantime, it only makes sense to work on manifesting our heart’s content, our destiny.

Hurrying Nowhere

We hibernated and napped intermittently all day, blinds closed, with the television on. We’re not on a schedule.
I’m still sick. I can’t seem to kick this incessant spasm in my lung and tickle in my throat, forcing me to convulse and cough all hours of the day and night. Bubba has been rubbing Vick’s vapor all over my chest and back and I have been taking homeopathic stuff but it may soon be time to seek out hardcore antibiotics.
We are cozying up in a smaller place here at the Coast Guard housing facility, 30-miles north of San Francisco. (Bubba and I couldn’t manage the freezing cold at my mom’s house in SF. She doesn’t raise the thermostat at all. She prefers it cold.)
We downgraded from the 1200-square foot townhome rental to a furnished studio. There wasn’t any point to having such a big place. The cost-of-living is incredibly reasonable here. The fully furnished two-bedroom including garage, cable, wi-fi and all utilities cost less than 2K a month. Bubba and I talked about how much we could have saved had we lived out here rather than in the Presidio when he was working, but I reminded him of the hassle of commuting and his distaste for it. Besides, this is way out in the countryside. Surrounded by mountains, Bubba saw wildlife in the neighborhood the first day. He saw a cluster of deer and even a bear. Even though, there is a nice running trail and exercise circuits, I’m reluctant to go far. Bubba said he would have to accompany me as I could encounter a mountain lion.
We have the heat cranked on high now. This hibernating makes me feel like Boo Radley, a character Bubba and I lightheartedly allude to when we observe unusual people. In my case though, I’m imagining that my healthy bronze will too soon fade into a pasty white akin to this reclusive character in To Kill A Mockingbird.
Lucky for me, I have reclaimed my Compaq laptop. I resigned it to a corner more than a year ago because it kept freezing up on me. I plugged it in and voilà, still functioning. It’s nice to be the boss of my own computer. Bubba restricted many activities on his.
I happily reconnected with Imeem, a social/music networking site and YouTube.
Google pairs well with the above sites, too. Google really is indispensble. I have found myself able to decipher song titles and artists that I may have briefly heard and liked, by simply typing in the few lyrics echoing in my head in search.
For instance, through Google, I found that I was amongst a score of people who like the song featured on an Old Navy sweater commercial. By typing in the lyrics, I found forum threads that led me to the song title, 'The Way I am’ by Ingrid Michaelson. Then I played it in its entirety on Imeem! These tools allow me to indulge in any songs that happen to pop up in my head or do any other kind of research.
Besides music, I was also able to sneak in another book while in Hawaii and finished it this week. I paid a buck for the book, Revenge of the Middle-Aged Woman by British author, Elizabeth Buchan. It was an entertaining read. The plot revolves around a middle-aged woman whose husband leaves her for a younger woman after a 25-year marriage. Her writing goes to show how extravagantly imaginative and fun fiction can be.
The next book on my must-read list is, Reading Lolita in Tehran.
Reading helps to settle and calm me from my fickle, fidgeting ways. It also enlightens, enlivens and inspires. I’m always in such a hurry to do something when I should really be learning to enjoy this stillness.

Under The Weather In Every Sense

-The weather has been wet and dreary. (The temps are still dropping.)
-I caught a cold (getting worse, lost my voice today).
-Bubba and I had a lovers' spat.
Altogether, these events have spoiled my mood to write.
It has already been a week since we returned from our Hawaiian paradise vacation. It felt unnecessary and unnatural having to come back to 40-degree weather, after we’ve enjoyed a month of warm azure skies and water.
Uncertain of when and what our next adventure would be, I thought about making these winter SF days feel more purposeful, while we are temporarily anchored. Impulsively, I added exercise and night classes into my schedule the day after we returned.
Motivated by my sun-kissed skin, I went out to the Polo Fields in Golden Gate Park to work-out since my metatarsal fracture last summer. I decided to try out the combination of hula-hooping and walking around the mile-long dirt oval track. Initially, I was certain that I would look ridiculous but as soon as I got the rhythm, I hooped-walked a mile alongside running athletes. After feeling the fatigue in my core, I returned to the track hoop-less and was able to jog two laps around without my foot swelling up. It seems I’m on my way to reviving my fitness routine.
That same evening, last week, I crashed a night class at a community college, intent on picking up travel agent skills. The class would anchor us in the city until May, which led to the conflict between Bubba and me. My abrupt decision to go to night school rubbed him the wrong way since I did not consult with him first. Our lover’s spat ensued. Defiant in my speech and attitude, Bubba stepped out and booked temporary military housing. (Though, he did reach out repeatedly, inviting me to join him.) I spent a few days contemplating the unconventional nature of our life’s activities. Some moments I long to be grounded in our own house, for his girls to have a roof to come home to…and for me to have a job I am passionate about. But I also feel torn as I am enraptured by this living by the seat of our pants, without routines, without schedules. Bubba believes this freestyle living pairs well with my need to write.
After an agonizing few days of separation, I decided it was senseless to go at it alone. I had spent five years with Bubba, learning about intimacy and partnership. I admire his accomplished past and his diverse skills. And, though I do wrestle with thoughts of being independent and solo, I also acknowledge the uphill circumstances of all relationships. What marriage doesn’t involve significant work and compromise?
I was further compelled to reevaluate my ideals when I came across a meaningful quote, “We must learn to scale down our expectations of what makes us happy in life,” said Jane Goodall.
Enlightened by these words, I relented and came over to join Bubba in this spacious home he rented for the week. A fully furnished two-bedroom house, I was suddenly under the guise of a domesticated life. I broke the spell by instantly recognizing the temporary nature of this set-up. I then accepted the reality of living out of a suitcase. Bubba suggested that I create our geographic itinerary list. Immediately, I voiced out loud my primary choices: “Japan” and “Korea.”
Bubba complied. “Research the housing, the costs, the possibilities,” he said.
Ours will definitely be a life consistently filled with new sights and sounds.

Celebrity Sighting

We had a celebrity sighting yesterday at the Honolulu Airport. We saw Gene Simmons and his partner, Shannon Tweed. Gene is best known as the vocalist/bassist member of the band, KISS. As a couple, they are more recently known for their reality show, Family Jewels.
Bubba and I arrived at the airport a few hours early. I wanted to work on my two bottles of water and an orange, things I would not be allowed to take past security. Bubba and I found a place to sit and I gave him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich I made. As I was nibbling on my orange, two very tall people walked past us. I saw the side profile of this tall man, with a ball cap and a black leather jacket and black hair…and thought I just saw Gene Simmons. I saw only their backs as they were escorted to the front of the security line. Shannon Tweed’s face came into view. Tall and blonde, she is as beautiful as she looks on the show. I told Bubba that Gene Simmons just walked past us. I was able to say it with confidence because I had read in the newspaper that Gene Simmons was in Honolulu as a keynote speaker for small businesses this last week.
Bubba confirmed my sighting and like a silly fan, I jumped up and hollered, “We love you, Gene Simmons!” They acknowledged us with a shake of their heads. Then we hollered out, “Can we take a picture?” Since they were already in the front of the security line, Shannon asked if we would be going through security. We affirmed we were and she said we could look for them by the gates as they’d be hard to miss.
Bubba and I were star-struck. I sacrificed my bottles of water and orange and we ran to find the shortest security line to get to the other side. When we got past security, we wondered how we’d find them.
I told Bubba they were probably in a First-Class lounge somewhere, hidden from view. Bubba said Shannon was probably being polite about letting us take pictures. We decided to just be happy with the mere sighting. We went looking for our own gate, when Bubba sighted Shannon in a magazine store. We waited till she exited the store and we approached her. I was tongue twisted while telling her she looked great. She really does. She was very personable and down-to-earth. She let Bubba take a picture with her. Then she tells us, pleasantly, like an old friend, "Gene is sitting over by gate 18." Like teenage groupies, Bubba and I rushed over there, behind Shannon. Gene was sitting by himself. There were no crowds around him. We approached him and asked if we could take his photo. Gene Simmons had a composed and reserved demeanor. He asked if we wanted him to stand or sit in the photo. Bubba said we’d adjust ourselves to him. I took two photos of Bubba next to his idol rocker. Bubba took one of me. I ranted deliriously about loving his reality show and how I read he was in town and gave a speech to entrepreneurs.
Bubba observed that Gene Simmons listens intently. He stares you dead in the eyes when you talk. He did that to me, but I was so busy being flighty.
Not wanting to pester them, we thanked them graciously and walked away. Bubba was elated. This is when I learned what a tremendous fan Bubba is of Gene Simmons. Bubba reminisced how he went to the very first KISS concert in the late 70s and how the entire audience witnessed the inception of the band members' personas, and after that, Bubba went to every KISS concert. He told me the band invented heavy metal, put on the best shows and had the coolest special effects and pyro-techniques.
Bubba was on a high. I told him that he should have told Gene Simmons this bit o’ history, but Bubba said he figures that Gene must hear fans telling him the exact same thing constantly. But, I thought it was special that Gene Simmons is so fondly remembered by Bubba as a rocker whereas, many today may only know Gene Simmons from his reality show.
Bubba also praised Gene Simmons' avatar as the ‘demon’ in the band. This demon wasn’t symbolic of good or evil, per se, it was simply a character selected by Gene Simmons. Bubba recalls the strong and impressive performances made by Gene Simmons' demon. The seven inch leather heels, the costume of scales and horns and the way the band rocked.
Bubba admitted to me that he channeled Gene Simmons' stage persona as his inspiration when he had to lead Army combat missions and this made him a stronger warrior.
After we went our way, Bubba decided to take a seat far removed yet still close enough to continue taking in the reality of Gene Simmons. Gene, Shannon and her sister were soon escorted early on board their commercial flight to LA. I was in the ladies’ room. Bubba said Gene knew he was being watched. Gene Simmons stood up, faced Bubba’s direction and touched the bill of his ball cap as a farewell gesture before walking away.
I have never seen Bubba this excited. Bubba’s eyes continue to light up at the very topic of Gene Simmons and KISS. I am glad that Bubba experienced such a spectacular encounter at the close of our vacation. We will write a note to thank Gene Simmons and Shannon for being so natural and approachable on his fan site.

Things We've Learned

We are preparing to leave this tropical paradise for cold and dreary skies.
I think I’m going to get sick. We spent today sunbathing one last time. Bubba and I have achieved a nice, golden tan, which will hopefully last until spring. Our glow will serve to remind us of this happy place.
In reviewing our 30-day vacation here, we have learned a lot. We learned that time flies when you’re having fun. We learned that our wallets are quite empty now. Bubba has spent the equivalent of a few months’ salary on this outing. We dined out daily, kept a rental car for two-weeks, went on consecutive shopping trips for Hawaiian goods and sometimes, we had desserts more than once a day.
--We also learned that the islanders don’t use directional terms: north, south, east and west. They use the terms mauka/makai, leeward and windward. When I came across these very terms in the local newspaper, I had to ask our Hawaiian friends to interpret what I was reading. Mauka means mountain and makai means ocean. An islander giving directions will employ these terms. If they reply with, “Walk two blocks mauka,” I will know to go away from the ocean and inwards toward the mountains, and vice-versa, if makai is used. The islanders orientate themselves via the perspective of the ocean and the mountains. They also use the terms: leeward and windward to describe general location. Leeward refers to the west and windward refers to the east.
Our month long stay has also allowed us to gain an array of insights on how to plan a better itinerary for future trips here. We will pack even lighter and wear more floral prints. We can catch the bus from the airport to Waikiki for only $2. We will have to remember that Haunama Bay, the best place to snorkel alongside tropical sea life, is closed on Tuesdays. One must go bag-less to Pearl Harbor, as no bags whatsoever are allowed. (We saw a woman sacrifice her cosmetic bag to a trash bin under the watchful eye of a park ranger.) There is more than one form of inter-island travel, besides going on a cruise ship. There is the Superferry and Go! Airlines which offers affordable transport to the neighboring islands.

The northwestern-most (makai-leeward) part of the island called Makaha is the less desirable place to stay, except to spend a day watching the exceptional waves and surfers. (Glad we didn’t get misled into a rental way out there.) The shoreline is filled with homeless folks who’ve created a shanty town of tents.
I have spent time examining the real-estate market as well. Decent sized condos (1-2 bedrooms) can still be purchased in the arena of $200-400K. Of course the price is reflective of the neighborhoods. The price goes way up around Waikiki. Single-family houses begin at the half-million mark and above. Coming from California, these figures don’t sticker-shock us. I studied the industries to figure out what sustains this economy. The primary answer is the service sector and tourism. Even Hawaii’s assortment of stocks performed dismally in 2007 except for Hawaiian Air. On any given day, the island is filled with an influx of Japanese tourists. There are even special trolleys (sponsored by Japan Airlines) that operate solely for Japanese tourists. It is the visiting foreigners and the paradise environment, which maintain the hefty cost-of-living here. I must admit the lifestyle here is very agreeable.
Bubba and I enjoyed this experience of living in a high-rise with a view. Movement entailed riding in the building's elevators to get to the lobby or the garage. We walked everywhere and rode the bus the first two weeks. We never carried an extra just-in-case jacket for cooler temps. The evenings remain in the high 70s. For our last two nights, we dined at Don Ho's Restaurant, belonging to the beloved, late performer. I had my glasses of wine and enjoyed the tipsy walks back home while holding Bubba's hand, inhaling the fresh Pacific tradewinds. Not all cosmopolitan cities can pull off such a romantic scene. Honolulu pulsates and emanates its own unique, tropical sensation.
-Lastly, it has finally become natural for us to meet and greet everyone with, “Aloha” and in expressing gratitude, we say, “Mahalo.”

Becoming Beach Bums...

We will be leaving picturesque O‘ahu in a few days. I will miss walking around scantily clad in tank tops and shorts or in a bikini and a sarong. Bubba and I expressed our enchantment with island life, dismissing any notions of having ‘island fever,’ when asked by his student (the recent bride). In fact, we could stay on long-term and become beach bums, he told her. Having a rental car during the last two weeks enabled us to cruise all around the island. The novelty of Waikiki wears off quickly, with its crowds and retail shops. We came upon magnificent scenery on our drives, seeing the locales that set the stage for the movie Jurassic Park and the primetime show, Lost. On one particular drive on the H3 toward the Tetsuo Harano tunnel, we saw a cluster of towering moss-riddled mountains, its peaks submerged in clouds. Upon closer examination, we saw concaved, vertical sluices on the mountains. Naturally chiseled by high-altitude rain water, they have become extraordinary waterfalls. Driving through such a contrast of green, jagged mountainous terrains opposite the blue Pacific, Bubba said he felt like he was entering a jungle and he loved it.
On another drive, we came across Bellows Air Force base. We gained access with our IDs and discovered vacation bungalows, campgrounds and cabins available to military personnel on a long stretch of private shoreline. We observed the light peppering of families, from seniors to kids on the beach playing, swimming, picnicking and barbequing. Bubba and I wholeheartedly agreed that this is where we ought to lodge on our next trip.
Hawai'i is a place where Bubba and I could dig our roots. The sunshine has abated my allergies and eased some of Bubba’s pains. There isn’t anything we miss from home, except perhaps the ability to drive from state to state. It will be an adjustment to leave this lazy, paradise life. I am already in the midst of consoling myself by internally repeating the quote: "Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.”
Bubba and I still have an unfinished itinerary since sunbathing and exploring took precedence. Bubba’s student and her family took us out to Barber’s Point yesterday, a beach they rated as having mild waves. The waves were no higher than five-footers. They supplied the surf boards and the lessons. I watched the technique of surfing from the shoreline, documenting each move with my camera. Bubba paddled out to sea with his student and her cousin. The girls led the way with such ease, having conquered waves their whole lives. The method is to go out and to time the wave one wants to ride. When the wave is selected, one has to paddle away from it and in mere seconds, emerge upright on the board in order to ride it without falling off. It is an amazing routine to watch. Bubba rode a few waves, not bad for a second timer. Intimidated by the loud, crashing surf, I imagined being swallowed up by the massive ocean and wanted to decline my lesson. But in the presence of surf teachers and warm water, it was an opportunity I know I’d regret passing up. I was talked onto a board under the supervision of Bubba and the cousin’s fiancé, two strong men. I rode the board, lying down the whole time and got a sense of the ocean’s rhythm. I figured out how to lift my board to ride over each successive crashing wave. From this vantage point, the ocean did not seem as intimidating. In fact, I felt a sense of peace being on top of it. Bubba is right, if we stay, we’d likely become coconut-colored, water people.
On our to-do list, we did manage to check off Pearl Harbor and the swap meet while my cousin was still here a week ago. Pearl Harbor’s visit took three hours. Since admission is free, the tour buses are there early. By 8 am, we were already behind a few hundred people in line. The tour consists of a 40-minute history film and a ride onboard a ferry vessel (operated by the US Navy) to the memorial built over the downed USS Arizona. From within the bridge shaped memorial, the deteriorating remnants of this great battleship, where a thousand sailors lost their lives, can be seen underwater.
The swap meet at the stadium is a short distance from Pearl Harbor and therefore a good idea to pair together. The vendors are set up in circular fashion in the stadium's parking lot. The entry fee is $1.00. The souvenir goods are a tad bit cheaper than Waikiki’s International Market Place. The browsing can be torturous on a hot day as it is conducted open air. But, in finding foam flower hair clips for only a buck (as opposed to the high retail mark-up..I happily bought a dozen more!) and Hawaiian-made goods (rather than in China), our hot and tiring three-hour shopping spree became more tolerable.

Polynesian Paradise: Priceless

My cousin left today. Within the five days she stayed, we hit the ground running with our must-do list. The highlight, besides the sunbathing and frolicking on the beach (it’s 80 degrees here!), was definitely our visit to the Polynesian Cultural Center (PCC). Of all the people I’ve known, who returned from a Hawaiian vacation, no one has ever mentioned this place. Fortunately, it was enthusiastically recommended by my islander friend, Lou. I had a hard time conjuring up a mental image beforehand of a place replicating seven different Polynesian villages.
After reviewing the pricey admission packages, we sought out the nearest MWR office to buy military discounted tickets. Most of Oah’u, if not commercial or residential, belongs to the military.
Bubba located Fort Shafter to be nearest downtown Honolulu. Coincidentally, Bubba was also born on this island at Tripler Medical Center and spent a few of his toddler years at this very installation. His late father was stationed here four decades ago and for old time’s sake, we sought out the housing unit they lived in as a happy, growing family. And the home is still standing.
Since we wanted to experience a luau dinner along with our visit, we chose the Ali’i Luau package and my cousin insisted on treating us in return for hosting her on an air mattress in our apartment. For the three of us, the price was $200, a small price to pay, we soon learned.
The PCC is located on the island's northeast town of Laie.
We drove there in our rental Jeep Wrangler (what a fun vehicle!). Along the way, we saw pristine beaches and sometimes the shoreline was so close, the highway was right on the edge of the water. (We are so on an island!!!)
The PCC is a 42-acre interactive theme park, with sections designed and divided into Polynesian villages. The park is staffed by actual natives of all the various islands.
We learned that the PCC was built by the Mormons in 1963. It is adjacent to the Brigham Young University, Hawaii campus. The forward looking Latter-Day Saints wanted to perpetuate the understanding of the Polynesian culture. By building this non-profit theme park and staffing it with actual BYU students from the various islands, the result would be a genuine cultural experience for visitors. Inversely, these student-staffers receive scholarships from the park’s profits, earn a college degree and return to their islands with their education. (I would say the Mormons' concept have succeeded beyond their wildest dreams.)
Our 9-hour day flashed by and we only completed a fraction of the offerings. We started out with a canoe ride down the middle of the theme park to sightsee the park’s layout. Our rower stood on the end of the canoe paddling, resembling a Venice gondolier. He was a student from South Korea with a charming accent. He explained the sights and injected humor such as inviting us to shout out:“Rip-off,” to the park photographer who snapped a group pic of us on the canoe. (The pic price: $15, the guided canoe ride: priceless).
We stopped off at the village of Tonga first. They demonstrated their cultural trademark of playing the drums with such rhythm and intensity. They picked people from the audience to come try it out. The extemporaneous performance was entertaining and funny. We learned that Tonga is the last island monarchy in Polynesia. We went on over to the Tahiti village next and learned about their islands and the hand-made instruments. They serenaded us and then the women were invited to participate in a dance lesson. The rapid hip-gyrations to the beat of a drum is a dance I have always admired. With our feet in a V-shape, we learned to rock our knees and to swing our hips from side to side under the guidance of a Tahiti girl. I looked on as her hips swung to each beat with such force and yet, such grace. (Grass skirt is on my to-buy list now!)
We feasted our eyes to an exciting river pageant in the afternoon, watching each culture represented through remarkable dance performances in native attire on a floating platform. All were impressive, but my two absolute favorites were the Tahitian hip shakers and the intimidating Haka Welcome Dance of Aotearoa (New Zealand). The dancers with tattooed faces stick out their tongues! We saw an IMAX film on the somber state of coral reefs in the world. It provoked me to think more about conservation as we were left with the quote: "We don't inherit the land from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children." Our stop at Samoa lightened the mood and we laughed till our throats hurt and bellies ached. The Samoa delegate is definitely the star of the entire park. From starting a fire with a stick of wood to splitting a coconut, to his non-stop humorous monologue while performing, to his surprise fire dance at the night show, we were ready to buy whatever he was selling. We bought the DVD at the end of the night, our pictures at the luau and Bubba found some novelty hand-carved cannibal forks from Fiji at the gift shop.
Our luau dinner was enjoyable. They greeted us with leis and our first go-around at the buffet was more than sufficient. There were an array of salads, fruits, pork, beef, fish (mahimahi and poke), rice, taro buns poi and cakes for dessert. I got a big helping of poi so I can finally affirm to everyone that I’ve had it. It is a purplish looking paste with a mildly tart flavor. It is made from the taro root. The purple dinner rolls and the potato salad were also made of taro.
Our night culminated with an electrifying and passionate evening performance. As we left, we counted plenty of interactive activities we missed out on. Though our tickets permit us free reentry within three days, we still had Pearl Harbor, the swap meet and stretches of white sand and surf waiting to be crossed off on our to-do list. Not to inundate this entry, those following days will come next.

O'ahu Sweets

Our schedule is picking up the pace now. My cousin flew in from San Francisco after New Year’s for a one week vacation. Now that she is here, we are ready to plunge into the role of full-fledged tourists.
We bought our tickets for the Polynesian Cultural Center for tomorrow and it will be an all day activity, from noon to 9 PM. We will hopefully be able to squeeze both the ‘swapmeet’ and Pearl Harbor in on Sunday. Monday and Tuesday will be devoted to a surf lesson, Hanauma Bay and tanning around the beaches of O‘ahu before she leaves on Wednesday.
Prior to her arrival, Bubba and I have been entertaining ourselves. We rented a car and drove south past Waikiki to see the island beyond the high rises. We found immaculate beaches and blue, blue water.
We stood on the edge of oceans with ripping waves, witnessing the reality that we are but on an island in the middle of the Pacific, thousands of miles away from home.
Bubba and I spent a few days meandering through the four-levels of the Ala Moana Center, a mall boasting 260 shops ranging from Louis Vuitton to Sears. Bubba likes their food court most of all, for their abundant variety. For two days, we dined there.
One late evening, back in our apartment, Bubba suddenly decided he wanted dessert, shave ice to be specific. He probably got the idea from all the talk we heard about Matsumoto’s shave ice shop in the town of Hale’iwa on the way to North Shore. His request for dessert at such a late hour prompted me to google a possible solution to his craving. I thought about running up to Safeway to grab him some popsicles, but he declined. We have been so spoiled of late. We had shared a half dozen piping hot and crispy malasadas a few days earlier. Googling “shave ice & Honolulu” revealed a place called Waiola, rated favorably many times over by patrons. I suggested Bubba and I make a trip there the following day. After our meal at Ala Moana’s food court the next evening, Bubba drove while I navigated the map and found our way to Waiola Street not far from Waikiki.
Bubba is a single-flavor guy and ordered strawberry while I asked for ice cream on the bottom and a rainbow flavor on top. Our two cups came to $4.50. Although, I am not a shave ice connoisseur, I was impressed with the texture. The ice was as fine as snow. I almost imagined I was eating ice cream. Bubba didn’t say much as he ate. He merely agreed the ice was smooth, the way he remembered it as a kid.
We went to Matsumoto’s today. The line was very long. The shop has a nostalgic ambiance. The shave ice is huge…but one look (taste) and one can see the shave ice is icy…not soft and creamy. The flavors were good, though. I don’t know which place has won Bubba’s preference. He hasn’t commented on either. I’ll have to wait and see where Bubba will request a shave ice from next. If he likes Matsumoto’s, we’ll make the drive as we have a car for the rest of the time we are here. If he likes Waiola, it is close enough to go to everyday. As for me, I will always remain a fan of fresh smoothie tapioca drinks.

Food and Fireworks-New Year's in O'ahu

We rung in the New Year’s with our friends in the suburbs of O‘ahu and discovered that when it comes to fireworks, the islanders don’t mess around. The fireworks display here on New Year’s is said to be more intense than that of the 4th of July on the mainland-the term the Hawaiians use to refer to the continental US. The only way I can describe the show we witnessed last night, for a period of three hours, was akin to Disneyland’s Fireworks Show times one hundred. Neighbors from every corner of the island launched and blasted colorful explosives into the night sky until the wee hours of the night. I imagined the whole archipelago bore witness to our flamboyant piece of sky.
We joined in the festivities by lighting up sparklers and setting off fireworks called killerbees and ground bloom flowers and firecracker strips but our whirling, twirling, blazing balls of fire remained street level.
Bubba and I accepted the gracious invite of our island friends to spend the night. We rented a car but decided not to negotiate New Year’s night traffic, just in case other drivers took to the road while under the influence.
Earlier in the day, to whittle away the afternoon hours of 2007, I talked Bubba into going shopping and we found the perfect sterling-silver kuuipo bracelet I wanted! In the evening hours, we entertained ourselves by playing the game of Dominoes. I never played it but my beginner’s luck helped me win the first four games. The other players teased me and accused me of being a pro. I attributed my winning streak to my ignorance on how to scheme or strategize and to simply play until my dominoes ran out.
On New Year’s Day, the festivities continued. Our host family was preparing a Sugarbowl party because the University Of Hawai‘i Warriors team was playing against the Georgia Bulldogs. With the dining table set out luau style, we couldn’t refuse. There was a variety of roast pork dishes with dipping sauces, more sashimi and more seafood pupus (Hawaiian term for appetizers). In authentic luau style, we used the red plaid, fast-food paper trays resembling the containers French fries are served in at carnivals, to repeatedly sample the variety of goodies in mini portions.
Unfortunately, the football game did not fare well for the Warriors and our spirit was a bit dampened but the luau celebration continued with more food added to the table. In studying the Hawaiian menu, I see an amalgamation of various islander foods. Hawai'i popularizes and features foods consumed by other island nations such as the Philippines, Japan and Taiwan. Conversely, Spam and macaroni salad are major staples of Hawaiian cuisine. The Burger Kings here in Hawai‘i feature a Spam breakfast sandwich. The Mc Donald’s here sell ramen-like noodles in a styrofoam bowl called saimin alongside their Big Macs. After driving across America this summer and having the limited choice of fast-food or fried seafood, I am utterly in love with the menu of Hawai’i.