All of a sudden, a definite shape emerged and there were fish swimming beneath me! I carefully approached the reef, hoping the current wouldn't push me into it. I was amazed at how easily I could float near the surface and hold still, looking so closely at the subtle colors of the coral. I saw a light, fuzzy brown covering most of the surface, but here and there were spots of orange, lavender and bright green. I was afraid to touch it at all, lest I disturb the fragile living coral. As I floated, sensing the swells pulsing over the surface of the water and watching the current swirl sand through the crevices of the reef, an incredible bounty of life swarmed around me. Fish of all shapes, sizes and colors swam by, each with their own signature style of fin swishing, like people with their individual walks. A shivering motion caught my eye and I looked down just in time to see a mottled brown fish sink into the sandy floor, completely camouflaged. A group of fish bigger than my face cruised by so close to me that I shuddered in excitement. The range of colors I saw were from pinks and yellows so bright they glowed to shimmering green and orange, dusted in silver. I counted 21 different species of fish all in one spot! One kind liked to swim right along the surface, so when I looked up they were eye level with me. Others were nibbling along the top of the coral, darting in and out of tiny holes. Eventually, the discomfort of goggles and tube-breathing won out over fascination and I reluctantly dragged myself out of the water.
That evening we camped in the sand at Ha'ena Beach. We warmed burritos and roasted marshmallows over a fire, watching the stars emerge until the entire Milky Way glistened over our heads. The low thunder of crashing waves filled the darkness that was the horizon. Blu requested a story and I just couldn't resist making one up on the spot. For the sake of my 'research,' I want to record the story I told here:
Once upon a time, just a few months ago, there was a large house in a neighborhood over on the mainland. All the kids that lived nearby knew it was haunted, so they held their breath whenever they rode their bikes in front of it, or chased their basketballs down the street near it. One day, a group of kids were playing and suddenly one of them became very curious about the house. He nudged his friend and said, “Hey, you should go find out if that house is really haunted or not. If it's not, we can stop holding our breath whenever we play in front of it.” His friend replied, “Yeah, we should find out. But I think you should go. You're brave, right? If you're really brave, you'll go knock on the door.” So the first boy took a deep breath and walked slowly up to the tall, metal gate. He thought, “If the gate doesn't open, I'll just go back to my friends and keep playing.” But the gate creaked open as soon as he pushed it. He stared down the long path surrounded by tall weeds and a funny smell. He could see a dark door at the end. After a deep breath, he stepped onto the path and didn't stop walking until he made it to the door. There, he paused and thought, “Okay, if I knock and no one answers, I'll just have to go back to my friends and keep playing.” He knocked three times, so fast. Just as he was about to turn around and run away from the dark door through the open gate, the door creaked open. He saw a very small, very old woman standing inside, squinting into the sunlight. “Yes? What do you want?” she grumbled. “Well, uh, I... I wanted know... if this house is haunted,” he said quietly. “No, it's not haunted. I live here!” Relieved, the boy turned around ready to run back to his friends and tell them what he discovered. “Wait! Wait, I need your help,” the old lady cried. He stopped suddenly and turned back to face her. “You see, I live here alone and I make cookies all day long, with chocolate chips and cranberries and pistachios and peanut butter, but I have no one to help me eat them. Will you take some cookies with you, and share them with your friends to help me?” Without waiting for an answer she receded into the dark house and reappeared quickly with a heavy paper bag in her hand. Handing them to the silent, wide-eyed boy, she sighed, “Thank you so much. I'm so glad you knocked on my door today.” Finally, the boy smiled back at the very small, very old lady. Then he ran back through the smelly yard, back through the open gate and down the street to his patiently waiting friends. “Guess what!” he shouted. “It's not haunted! A real, live lady lives there and she makes cookies all day. She even gave me some to share with you. Here!” He passed out the cookies. One had chocolate chips, one had pistachios, one had cranberries and one had both chocolate and cranberries, but his friends weren't too sure if they should eat them. “What if they're magic cookies?” one asked. The brave boy who found out that the house was not haunted didn't even answer. He was too busy eating his cookie. The other kids watched him, and looked at each other, and watched him... He didn't seem to be changing into anything animal-like, and he actually kinda looked happy. So they all tasted their cookies carefully. Then they all took big big bites of their cookies until there were no more left. From then on, anytime they rode their bikes by or chased their basketballs near the house, they didn't have to hold their breath anymore.
As I told the story, I noticed that part of what made it fun for me was that I built it out of details from my own life. When I was a kid, there was a house in a friend's neighborhood that we did hold our breaths in front of, because we were convinced it was haunted. Also, my grandfather spices up his cookies with pistachios and cranberries, and I love them! Anyway, falling asleep that night was delightful, listening to the waves and the light pattering of sprinkling rain.
I woke up early the next morning and watched the sun creep over the steep cliff behind us, slowly spilling fresh light across the beach. We packed up and drove to Hanalei Bay to find some easy waves to practice boogie boarding on. After we parked, we followed a surfing class down the beach to a flat, shallow area with soft waves. Aerica took me out at first, wearing flippers. She watched the waves with me and told me when to paddle and kick towards shore to catch the wave just right. I caught one, but the rest of the time I just floated and watched the waves, getting to know what they looked like from in the water. It was fun to watch the beginning surfers, too. We took a break for lunch and when I went back out, I left the flippers behind. The water was shallow, so I could just push off with my feet right when a wave was close to me. I spent an hour, easily, riding the waves in towards shore and watching the people around me. I saw a 6 year old boy who could surf better than anyone I had seen yet! He was so serious-faced and focused. We stayed there all day and I loved it. My favorite part was looking back towards the beach from in the water and gazing at the breathtakingly lush and sculpted mountains rising in the background. I can't say I'm as hooked on boogie boarding as I am on snorkeling, but I do love both. On the way home, we stopped in Kapa'a for dinner and wandered into a few cute shops. I liked both Hanalei and Kapa'a. They're different from Hanapepe because there's more money to put into attracting tourists with fancy storefronts and exciting restaurants. It's also more forested on the north shore and feels cozy being nestled into the foothills.
Yesterday, I met Beth at Ele'ele Elementary school for my volunteer orientation. She gave me a quick tour of the campus, introduced me to the kindergarten teacher I'll be helping, Mrs. Godsill, and left me talking to Kupuna, the Hawaiian culture teacher. (Kupuna means grandparent in Hawaiian.) She and I sat for so long while I listened to her describe her intentions and goals as a teacher. She told me about her focus on the theme of “to take care,” of the land, of each other, of our families. She mentioned how while she teaches Hawaiian ways, of preparing food for example, she invites every child to share what they do at home and what cultural background it comes from. She expressed how she loves to spend class time telling stories now and then and I asked her to expand on that. She explained to me how she works with her granddaughters at home to train them in the art of storytelling, and brings them with her when she tells stories to large groups in libraries. She was so proud of them and so proud of the stories she teaches them that are from her own family. “I tell them, listen to this, this story happened to your family, it's not from a book. Anyone can pick up a book and read it, but we lived through this.” She guides them to combine stories they know with their own personal experiences to enrich the story with meaning. At one point, the way Kupuna described her interactions with her granddaughters echoed the writings of Paula Underwood, a Native American author of 'learning stories,' when she described her interactions with her father. “I ask them, what did you learn from that story? What did you get out of it? At first they say, 'I don't know, Kupuna,' so I tell them to read it again. Then, after the third time, my granddaughter comes to me and says, 'Kupuna, I want to tell you what I learned from that story.'”
Kupuna told me something that really excites her is how many parallels she sees between the Native Hawaiian culture and the traditions of Native Americans. I asked, “Really? Even more than with Polynesian cultures?” She said, “Well Polynesian cultures, sure, but the Native American tribes, they care about the land like us, they value their own red dirt that is like ours.” She told me more similarities she appreciated and mentioned that she even met with a professor of Native American Studies from University of Arizona and used his Native American curriculum by simply replacing their traditionally important items with the Hawaiian sand, red dirt and salt. She attended a national gathering of Native American tribes that was held in Hawaii recently. I had to let her get to the next class, but she was so excited to be able to share with me her hopes, dreams, interests and efforts and welcomed me to return anytime I wanted.
On my walk home, I stopped in to see Jacqueline and ask her if she had any dresses for little girls. I was thinking of getting Kati Rose an aloha dress for her 4th birthday. She said no, but she was planning on making some soon. Then she asked me if I had some free time to help her out a bit and she would make me a couple dresses for trade. I said sure and spent the next 3.5 hours sewing buttons, ironing and tagging finished shirts. I thoroughly enjoyed the work and she wants me to come back today and the day after. I agreed to come back and work enough to get Zach an aloha shirt, but after that... I'd like to work for sewing lessons maybe. She doesn't seem to want to pay cash, so maybe I can be more of an apprentice. I am so grateful for the opportunities that present themselves to me. I get to do work that I love everywhere I turn! I'm especially excited about getting to know the children in the kindergarten class I will meet on Thursday. Mahalo, Kaua'i, for gifting me with grace in every direction.
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