Thanksgiving on Maui

I hope everyone had a beautiful Thanksgiving dinner with their ohana. The universe swept me away at the last minute to Kipahulu, Maui for an incredible weekend with family I didn't know I had! Here's how it happened...

Back in October, a classmate of mine, Jenna, posted her blog address(Growing Home) on the Family website. When I noticed she was on Maui, I glanced at her blog and read about her experiences at a small community school in Hana. I emailed Jenna asking about the school and she put me in touch with Heidi, the director. After I sent Heidi a brief letter about my focus on teaching, she was interested in having me visit. She runs Kula 'Ike Community School in Hana, which covers elementary and middle school curricula with a student body of 5.

Fast forward to last Sunday evening... Heidi and I finally connected on the phone. We discussed the possibilities of me living on Maui for a couple months to work with her at the school. I mentioned my feelings at the moment were leaning towards staying in Hanapepe for a number of reasons, including my understanding that the more time I invest in a situation, the more I can learn. She replied, “Well, this is a little short notice, but I have an idea. How about you come out to Hana this weekend and be my guest for Thanksgiving? Then you'll get to see the area and meet members of the community.” It didn't take long for me to see the genius in that idea! Within an hour, I had bought tickets to fly over on Wednesday.

It turned out to be a such a long day of travel. Airports are always the most uncomfortable aspect to me, compared to the cozy little window seat where I get to read my book and tune the world out. I had the pleasure of visiting four separate airports (Lihue, Honolulu, Kahului & Hana) and the misfortune of choosing a window seat right next to the engine on the first two flights (no more row 25!). After a 4 hour layover in Kahului came the icing on the cake (really, not sarcastically). I had the 8-seater Cessna all to myself from Kahului to Hana! We flew for 15 minutes right along the coast with the most spectacular views of Maui mountainsides, cliffs and waterfalls! The island and the setting sun were to my right and on my left, the rainstorms over the oceans provided a flawless canvas for the brightest rainbows I've ever seen. They followed me for almost the entire flight, blinking in and out as we passed by innumerable little rain clouds.

When we touched down in Hana, my first impression was of the rich, sweet, fertile smell. Maui exudes an incredibly unique scent, conjuring images of composting soil, overripe fruit and exotic blossoms. I found the one room airport in Hana to be the tiniest I've flown through yet. The pilot himself locked up as he left, leaving me watching the rain from the porch, waiting for Heidi. After half an hour, Heidi arrived with Jonby and Adam, swooped me up, and drove me straight to the school. I got to peek inside quickly before we retreated to Hale Mano (Heidi's home) for the rest of the weekend. Another 30 minutes of driving and we finally arrived, just after sunset.

Heidi and I threw together a quick salad in the open air, cliff-side kitchen. Then, by light of the waxing moon, we walked up the road to a neighboring farm, Laulima, to jump in the sauna. There, I met Jenna for the first time, and also Lama, Triana, Sa'id, and other residents on the farm. After the sauna, the kitchen was bustling with preparations for the following day's dinner, which included pumpkin pie, squash soup and 6 freshly slaughtered chickens. Conversation roamed from animal spirits to Superferry conflicts to juicy descriptions of how to gut and clean a chicken. I walked back to Hale Mano in the moonlight with Heidi and Jenna, exhilarated by the dynamics of life that conspire to spirit me from island to island and from welcoming family to welcoming family.

Thursday morning dawned full of anticipation and I spent my time avidly observing the kitchen, doing my part in staying out of the way and washing dishes now and then. Around 1pm, we brought our bread, soup, salad, musical instruments and selves to the “Triangle” (Kipahulu community center). We arrived just in time to watch the process of uncovering the imu, which had been filled with chicken, turkey and pig the night before. To the delight of a small crowd, first the dirt was shoveled off, then the blue tarps were pulled back. By then the smell of meat was overpoweringly sweet and savory, combined with the textured scent of Maui herself. The steam began drifting away on the breeze as the men tossed aside the burlap sacks and began picking off the hot, limp banana leaves. I could tell the temperature of the leaves by the quick movements of hands as they pinched a small handful and threw it down again as fast as possible, waiting an extra moment or two each time to let their fingers cool. Finally, the mounds of foil-wrapped carcasses could be seen and buckets appeared to carry the meat from imu to table. Juice poured out in steady streams from the bottom of foil pans as many hands helped transfer the heavy birds into the buckets. Soon my attention was distracted by the arrival of a digeridoo and I settled on the grass to listen to music and watch the children play in the sunshine.

After an hour of watching neighbors arrive, the small crowd had grown to almost two hundred people. By the time the opening prayer began, the circle was twice as big as the building and I squinted into the sun to gaze around at the fresh faces of my new ohana. I introduced myself to the stranger I happened to hold hands with and discovered within moments that we were both Greeners and had many friends in common back in Olympia. I introduced him to Jenna as we stood in line for food, and we all felt blessed to be spending Thanksgiving with Famolywa. The rest of the afternoon passed with smiles and laughter, bountiful plates and delightful desserts. I found joy reflected in every face I met. Just before dusk, I stole away and wandered down to the edge of a cliff with a perfect view of the setting sun. I sent my wordless prayers of gratitude out over the sea, blessing all of my ohana I loved and missed from afar. The evening culminated with a dance party at Laulima and the glory of a bright moon, sparkling Mars, and swift moving clouds.

Friday began as quietly as it ended. I spent most of the day watching the ocean and reading. A couple of hours before sunset, Heidi and I wandered down to the smoothie shack at Laulima and heard about a community soccer game happening at a neighbor's house. Heidi loaded up her van and we cruised over to the game with about 8 people. Lama and I sat on the hillside and watched everyone play. I loved the steep slope that leveled out into a playing field bordered by a wall of Lilikoi vines that kept the ball within bounds. The game lasted until the moon rose over the top of the hill. Slowly, people scattered until the remainder of the group crammed back into Heidi's van to go home to Hale Mano. Heidi and Lama threw together a light dinner while the younger boys built a fire and somebody pulled out a guitar. A new friend, Jaybird, told me about his environmental education center in 'Iao Valley, west of Kahului. The evening came to a close around the fire, listening to the classics like Rocky Raccoon and Blackbird. I sat by the ocean later, soaking up all the moonlight I could and watching the swells froth and splash over the lava rocks. In my dreams that night, I was given a small child to nurture and I named him Family.

Saturday came and went too quickly! After a breakfast of papaya, star fruit and apple bananas, I walked to the Sacred Pools with Sa'id and met up with Jenna and a group of her visiting friends. I can barely find the words to describe these freshwater pools, and the pictures are downright insulting to the otherworldly beauty expressed in the lilikoi vine-covered canyon walls. Diving in from the edge of the waterfall, I was suddenly as cold as I could be at this tropical latitude. I floated on my back and gazed up at the rock face edge along the lower pool, noting the red hand prints left by previous visitors (and the absence of other graffiti). Eventually, I climbed back up the rocks next to the waterfall and explored the upper pool. Just as cold, this pool was shaded by incredible earth goddess trees with strong, tangled roots exposed at the water's edge. The bright sunshine lit up the canopy just enough to be reflected in the water, giving it a rich, glowing green texture rippled only by our movements. I stood at the end of the pool, gazing up into the canyon for ages, powerless to turn away from the beauty. I compared it to my memory of the pools I explored with Saralynn and Caitlin just outside of Moab, Utah, relishing the stark contrast between red-orange sandstone walls and lush, Maui undergrowth. After a few cycles of floating in the chilly water and sunbathing on the hot, black stones, we walked back to the smoothie stand and I began saying my farewells. Too soon, Heidi and I were racing to the airport around tight mountain curves and over so many one lane bridges. We got there 15 minutes after the plane was supposed to leave, just in time to throw my bag on and jump in. The flight away from Hana was nowhere near as glorious as the first and the airport marathon had started again. This time, the traveling culminated in a surprise cab ride home after all my phone calls failed to rustle my friends out of their homes. I celebrated the full moon by nestling into my very own bed (well, floor and camping pads) and replaying the magical weekend over and over in my mind.

Today, I succeeded in really filling my plate. I now volunteer at Storybook Theater in addition to Ele'ele Elementary, and I've added employment at a digital art gallery downtown (Arius Hopman) to my work with Jacqueline. The highlights of the day include delicious pumpkin cake from Hanapepe Cafe (which still pales in comparison to my mom's pumpkin rolls) and the pleasure of viewing Anna's recently finished paintings. Anna's website is Anna Means Grace.

At this point, I am extremely grateful for the chance to visit Hale Mano and Kipahulu, but I am totally satisfied by my home in Hanapepe. I feel like Kipahulu has so many people like me, all doing the kind of work I like to do, while Hanapepe needs me and the work I am capable of. I didn't leave the bubble of Evergreen to find another bubble of sustainable, progressive hippies (please excuse my generalizations). I left to bring my talents and skills and unique insights to the places where I can be useful and infuse my surroundings with a new light. I feel like I belong in Hanapepe and that differs drastically from feeling like I just 'fit in' on Maui. Decision to move aside, I am totally inspired by the lives and faces I encountered in Kipahulu and I intend to cultivate these new and exciting friendships from across the water. Mahalo for your love, Maui. You have blessed me.