Emerging from the holidays

What a full month! I took time off reading school books and blogging to submerge myself totally in enjoying Kauai with my family and loved ones. The consecutive days at the beach were broken only by trips to and from the airport. My birthday and Christmas were celebrated on the beach, of course! I was delighted by the number of Olympia folk that descended on Kauai (6!). The most exciting part of the month was traveling to the Big Island for New Years Eve with my mom and brother.

The Big Island is actually named Hawaii, but since that's also the name of the state, it's too confusing to call it Hawaii. It is geologically the youngest of the Islands and is still being formed by lava flows on the southeast shore. In contrast, Kauai is the oldest of the major islands and is covered in soft, folding mountains and ridges of red dirt. Flying from Kauai's redness to the Big Island's black, lava covered landscape is dramatic. Landing in Kona, on the west side, we had perfect views of how the airport, runways and roads have been created directly on top of wrinkled, rough, hardened lava.

The afternoon we arrived, we drove south to Kealakekua where my friend Cristina has been living since November. We visited Manini Beach on the shore of Kealakekua Bay, across from the Captain Cook monument. To go swimming, we had to wear our shoes to walk across the chunks of black lava and white coral to the waters edge. There we took off our shoes and gingerly wobbled over the sharp rocks into the water until it was deep enough to float. We avoided touching the bottom with our feet as much as possible and swam out into the bay. Compared to Kauai's sweet, gentle beaches, the Big Island felt rough-hewn and harsh. Being such fresh land, it lacks millions of years of ocean surf grinding and massaging its edges into the sand we love.

The following morning, we took off for Volcanoes National Park, on the south side. Inside the park, the lava flows and the craters of collapsed crust create an eerie landscape with unexpected textures, sudden cracks and cliffs, and an inhospitable atmosphere. The variations of patterns and, surprisingly, colors of the lava are endless. Lava hardens red when the ratio of iron oxide is especially high. Looking closely, I occasionally saw black lava that had a rainbow sheen across the surface. Most of the textures appeared like the folds and wrinkles of skin, but on a grand scale, like an elephant's skin. When we were peeking over the edge of the largest crater, the sulphuric gas emitted by the vents smelled terrible and made it painful to breathe. Some parts of the park are older flows covered in beautiful rainforests with huge tree ferns (as in, they grow big enough to look like trees, not that they grow on trees). If you're interested, Google Maps gives you a satellite view of the park and the lava flows stand out drastically. Just search for Volcano, HI.

The rest of the time I spent in Puna, the easternmost point of the island, slightly south of Hilo. I fell in love with the area. The roads are small, often one lane, and covered in canopies of trees. I visited Champagne Ponds three days in a row, where the water is heated geothermally and the water sparkles and bubbles like champagne when you splash. We snorkeled there and swam with sea turtles whose shells were covered in silky yellow algae like the rocks. Just a few miles down the road is Kehena, a black sand, clothing optional beach, where the lava rock shore begrudgingly recedes just a few hundred yards and the surf crashes right onto the pebbly edge. Also in Puna, we explored Lava Trees State Park, which is a collection of tree molds created by lava flowing around trees and hardening before the trees burned or decomposed. The texture of the tree bark is visible in some, just like a silly putty imprint.

After a week, however, I was more than ready to go home to Kauai. I felt sensitive to the intense energy of the island. It reminded me of a teenager, hyper and uncollected, especially in contrast to my old grandmother island, Kauai. Back home, a couple friends who were still visiting and I ventured out to the most beautiful beach in Hawaii, Polihale. We camped there a night and picked enough puka shells to decorate a queen. Polihale is my favorite because it's the longest stretch of uninterrupted white sands beach in the state and it's the furthest away from any town on Kauai. The only negative aspect is that the military owns 80% of it. We camped out on a clear night during the new moon, so the stars were magnificent. We explored Waimea Canyon the next day, which has been called “the Grand Canyon of Hawaii.” It's a gorgeous presentation of rich red dirt and lush green growth, although the weather is usually pretty hazy up at the lookout.

When they left early Wednesday morning, I was finally alone again and ready to get back to my life in Hanapepe. Wasn't I? All through work that day I felt kind of melancholy and lonely. By the evening, I was in tears realizing I needed a drastic reassessment of my purpose on Kauai. The clearest thought in my mind was, “What good is paradise without my loved ones?” It wasn't just that I felt lonely; my friends had barely been gone for 12 hours. I honestly felt that my purpose for being on Kauai, school and research and all that, just wasn't good enough to justify being so far away from my friends and family. My ideas for this research were and still are valid and full of potential, but as I looked around me I realized I wasn't living the life I wanted. Getting to share Kauai with all my friends was so fulfilling that the prospect of having to experience it alone again seemed dreadful.

I wanted desperately to buy a ticket home that very night, but I forced myself to wait until the following day. As Thursday wore on, it became clear to me that I belonged back in Olympia. This is my last year in college and my last chance to immerse myself in the community at Evergreen with all its resources, teachers, opportunities and fascinating people. I can do this kind of research in Hawaii at a later point in my life, if it's still important to me then. Plus, I have the opportunity to work with the Nisqually Reservation Department of Education back in Washington, so I'll still be following my interest in indigenous cultures. That afternoon, I bought a ticket home for the following Thursday.

I'm anticipating quality reflection time on what I'm taking home from Hawaii. I know now that I had to come to Kauai to realize how much I have back home. It's like the story of The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. (If you're not familiar with it, read it!) Once I get home, I'll cover up my tan in layers of wool and fleece and dwell in gratitude for all the blessings Kauai has bestowed upon me and for all the blessings that surround me in the cold winter rain of the glorious northwest.