All that Glitters: Confessions of a Haole

Life on Oahu- well,  you wouldn't believe the half of it. It is the stuff of fiction. 

Moving to paradise is enough to earn you the envy of your mainland friends. Posting cheeky photos of you parading about paradise makes this a fait acompli. However, as a haole (white Mainlander) living in Haole-wood (Hawaii Kai) for three years, I confess I have witnessed cultural nuances that should be televised or criminalized or both.  Paradise offers no life of perfection- just a sunnier one. Island living boasts things to love and things to loathe. Reflection upon my departure compels enumeration of both-since all that glitters is not gold. .  . but then sometimes it is.

There are the quaint little things such as the supremacy of the pedestrian and the prevalence of half-dressed moped riders and bulk-size Mai-Tai mix at Costco, shoe-less patrons at McDonalds or elderly women in skimpy bathing suits. These Hawaiians do know how to live on the edge- I muse- as a band of ukulele strumming cousins in the back of a dirty pick-up moseys down a coastal road in front of me...

These I will miss...

I will miss the roadside "pickled mango" and "fresh Kailua Pork" of dubious origins tempting touring travelers.

I will miss the fried Malasadas from Agnes' -though not their clinging damage to my hips and the charming Kailua Kalapawai Market cafe. I will miss Bowles Burritos who lure with their Mexican fare and Bohemian ambiance and an unexpected but decadent key lime pie.

I will miss my friends at Costco who fondly greet my trio of sample stealers like they're family.  I will even miss Milton in the Costco Pizza line who always senses my impatience and helps sanctify me by not moving a millisecond faster. 

I will miss Sean my Bosnian air conditioner repair savior and Ian who controlled our pests. (Thank you both for never calling CPS when -from time to time- I looked like a negligent, crazy shrew.)

I will miss Tami at Safeway who is obviously a Christian (Ichthus for the win) who accepts our weekly donut habit without judgment.  

I will miss Pat our famed androgynous security guard and the postmaster who indulges my kids when they cover themselves in Priority Mail stickers. And never judges me when I ask if I can mail them somewhere. Anywhere.

I will miss Uncle Clay's House of Pure Aloha where heat stroked customers enjoy the friendliest shaved ice experience on the  island.  Before you leave, Uncle Clay will quite literally know enough about you to compile an FBI profile. Mother's Maiden name? Done and done.

I will miss the official "pupu" menu presented by an unsmiling waiter who soberly extols the shrimp cocktail pupu with which to start off your meal. To this potty mouth colloquialism- I have become unwittingly endeared.

I will miss the cinematic quality of island living- and not just breathtaking vistas- If you fancy television (and who doesn't?), you can literally insert yourself into Hawaii Five-O shoots or the filming of the next Hunger Games.  Tracking Dog the Bounty Hunter is made by possible by his ironic privacy gate emblazoned with his brassy face. So, if you like celebrities or people who think they are- this isle is dripping with them.

I will miss the Marine Corps Base and the eye candy they boast - both in uniform and in nature. *wink*  I will miss the Kahala Resort and the nights of chic revelry they have proffered. 

I will miss my Lanikai beach- a foretaste of glory divine.

I will miss paddle-boarding all three kids around the Pacific. I will miss watching them face their fears with defeating victory. I will miss the oceanic adventures of Man of War hunts and body boarding and shell gathering. I will miss their satiated exhaustion after endless beach escapades.  And I will miss the scent of sunscreen lingering on their skin and the grains of sand secreted under their sheets.

I will miss the  pristine beaches- unparalleled in perfection. The blinding sun- faithful to shine. The ever-flowering perfumed Plumeria. The coral gardens in watery depths. The spoils of hikes on tangled trails. The summits reached and staggering sights revealed. The azure blues of fickle seas-  Their gently lapping and foaming rage.  And then knowing Him whom "even the wind and the waves obey."  These I will miss and more.

Though, all that glitters is not gold. . .

I will not miss being termed a "big woman" by the Asian medical staff at our clinic.  You can only suffer that distinction for so long without developing an eating disorder. . . which leads to...

I will not miss being surrounded by bikini clad, uber-fit  G.I. Janes.  Precisely because of this- I will not miss being pregnant in Hawaii and squeezing into a tented maternity swimsuit every day for 10 months while the cover of Sports Illustrated comes alive around my towel. 

I will not miss the oppressive guilt of having not once done a cleanse while my (masochistic?) friends sip Kale smoothies in contented carb-free bliss.

I will not miss the realty feeding frenzy, where you are more likely to gain early admission to Harvard than to lease a 1,600 square foot house that won't liquidate your savings.

I will not miss Serg's shady Mexican cantina where the beach-starved play the digestive lottery. While food poisoning is not specifically on the menu- it is offered to a lucky few. 

I will not miss the island's abysmal, inefficient infrastructure- a Dept. of Transportation afterthought. Likewise, I will not miss H-1- or her mocking, maddening speed "limit" of 45mph.  

I will not miss the narrow, discriminatory parking spaces - an obvious political strategy to encourage only liberal Prius drivers to live (and vote) here.  Well played, planning commission, well played.

I will not miss the threat of Tsunamis and the equally devastating absence of a Chick Fil-A. I will not miss being one of three sarcastic women on the island. I will not miss pretending road "Aloha" when the East Coast road rage still lurks within. I will not miss paying $25 at Fantastic Sams for a not so fantastic trim.  I will not miss the inflated cost of corn on the cob, a roaring fireplace on my television in December, or the gecko family that took up residence in my closet. Farewell tiny monsters.

For these, there is no love lost.

However, if you visit Hawaii you will come to know that the inefficient infrastructure is drowned by those turquoise tides. Angry atheism is muted in the sanctifying sunset. Improbable parking and latent liberalism find forgiveness in the misting Ko Olau mountains. The artistry of mere mortals pales under this isle expanse of sky and sea. And bidding farewell to friends with whom you have shared both the magical and mundane is the sweetest sorrow in the parting.  While all that glitters is not gold, the Hawaiian rainbow's graceful arc proves you will find it here at the end after all.

Or at least I gratefully did.

~Aloha~