From Maui, Installment 3

It's Christmas eve morning here and I in my caftan and Ingi in his shorts have just woken up from our long winter's nap. I keep pinching myself -- am I really here on this beautiful tropical isle? Yesterday Ingi greeted me in the a.m. with a "Good morning, Miss Coleman. We're in Hawaii!" He looked like a little kid that had just discovered a bicycle under the Christmas tree. Every day here is a gift and we are steeped in gratitude.

Did you know that the Kings Kamehameha were all very tall? King Kam III was over 7 feet tall. All of his wives (he had somewhere between 15 and 23) were 6 feet or over. The influence of the Portuguese and the Chinese and the Japanese on the islands has decreased the height of the original Hawaiian islanders. We saw some tall Hawaiian boys last nite next to some tiny women at Ulalena and I was reminded again of how many cultures have melted together here. Ulalena is a multi-media theatrical performance that would blow yours socks off if you ever wore anything but flip flops on Maui. A cast of dancers and singers takes you through centuries of island myth and story, from the creation of the world (Hawaiian perspective) through population of the island chain, in to the imperial age and ending at the more modern resurgence of Hawaiian culture. When the white guys came, Hawaiians were forbidden to practice their culture in any way -- no native speaking, no hula in public, no spiritual practices. Pu informed us during our Hana tour that through the hard work of many ancestors, the Hawaiian people have now recovered almost all their ancient ways, including medical treatments and navigation by stars. Ulalena tells many of the stories of this culture through drums and chants and dance and puppets and costumes and was a delight. We were entranced throughout the entire show. The only disappointment, and this is true of many things during this trip, is how sparse the crowds are. The chairs were only 50% occupied at most. We were an enthusiastic crowd, but small. We read in our book guide "Maui Revealed" that it's often impossible to get a parking space in Lahaina, and we had no trouble finding a spot on Front Street yesterday. In years past you'd have to line up your tours by summer to make sure you'd get one, and this year we could pretty much have our choice of whatever we'd like to do and arrange it today for tomorrow. The only thing in seemingly short supply is rental cars. Hilo Hatties (a popular Hawaiiana story carrying food, clothing, music, housewares) yesterday was like a ghost town. The Lahaina Center (retail outdoor mall) is only perhaps 50% occupied. Personally I'm rather pleased that the crowds are not crushing, but I recognize that tourism has become such an important part of supporting island people and this economy has really hit them hard. I will do my best to leave here what limited tourist dollars I have managed to save -- I feel it is my patriotic duty. Ahem.

We only saw a portion of Lahaina yesterday on our walkabout. We got some shave ice, we people watched, we went into several fine art galleries to gawk at the expensive paintings and sculpture. We went into a European antique poster store and asked if they had any Icelandic posters. They were stumped and said they'd never been asked for any Icelandic pieces before. It was fun watching them scratch their heads. We might return to Lahaina this afternoon -- I haven't yet seen the Banyan Tree which we hear is the largest in the US. I thought the one in Hilo was US's biggest, but who am I to challenge a tour guide's claim? The largest in the world is in India and covers hundreds of acres. I love trees.

I continue to marvel at how similar Iceland and Hawaii seem to me -- the differences mainly being forged by temperature. They are both volcanic, both have similar myth and story, both grew around fishing. Island peoples love to travel, they love the sea, they maintain a deep connection to family and home even as they trek the world. They welcome visitors, are curious about others, cultivate the arts, and have pride in their heritages. Weather wise, I prefer Hawaii, but if global warming continues then Iceland will either be totally under water or will become the newest tropical paradise. Lets hope neither of these scenarios come to pass.

We met the condo complex caretaker yesterday -- a tall, lanky howle named Mike. He does a fabulous job of keeping the grounds here clean and beautiful. He's up at dawn, scrubbing the pool, lining up the chaise lounges, tidying up. He's doing the same at dusk, plus patrolling the parking lot, giving out info to tourists, making sure the property is shipshape. He used to live in Oregon City, of all places. Another small world encounter.

Decisions, decisions await me. Another cup of coffee? A dip in the pool? Shall I begin reading some of the dozens of books I brought? A morning nap? Lest I gloat too much, I remain mindful that much of the northern hemisphere is blanketed in snow or cold rain and I keep my gratefulness close at hand.