From Quarterlife Crisis to Identity Crisis

I've been thinking a lot about identity lately and what it means when you finally take a look at yourself and realize that you're no longer the person you once thought you were or were always going to be.  For me, this really breaks down into two main facets: where I come from (physically), and where I come from (ethnically).

Being from Hawaii and being native Hawaiian is an incredible thing because the place I grew up is also where I can trace my ethnic identity.  It's where my people come from.  It's where they fought ancient battles and had their religious ceremonies, it's where they were colonized and turned into second-class citizens.  The land itself is intrinsically connected to the native Hawaiian culture, religion, way of life.  And with that identity comes this responsibility -- driven into me by my education at a private boarding school for native Hawaiian kids -- to give back, to serve my community, to make a difference as a native Hawaiian for native Hawaiians.

The thing is...I left.  Ever since I was a little girl I knew I was going to leave one day.  It was something I looked forward to, this opportunity to see the world and experience something so very different from the sand box that was Hawaii to me.  And so when I was 18, I lit out of there as fast as I could and I didn't look back.  I could do that because in my head and my heart, I was always headed back there eventually.  I didn't know when -- it's gone from moving back in my late twenties to early thirties to early forties to when I finally retire -- but I was going to move "home" one day.

And that idea of Hawaii being "home" has been the reason that was possible.  You see, Hawaii is a beautiful place, but it's not an easy place to live as an outsider.  If you don't belong, you're made to feel that way.  It's a very insular community, whether that's admitted or not.  And for the longest time, I knew I belonged to that community, I knew I belonged to Hawaii.  But lately, that's changed.  Over the passed couple of years, little things have been happening to make me acknowledge the fact that...maybe I don't belong to it anymore.  For the most part, those little things have been external, they've been things that have been said to me by others, or the ways others have made me feel.  Because I'm beginning to be treated like an outsider by my own community.  My skin isn't dark enough anymore; my accent isn't thick enough; I'm educated so I think I'm better than everyone; I don't speak my language or practice traditional native Hawaiian culture so I don't understand its needs; I've been gone so long that I don't know Hawaii anymore.  And as recently as yesterday, one of my closest friends treated me like I wasn't native Hawaiian, I hadn't grown up there, I didn't have a clue about how to help with the issues we face, and I therefore had no right to try and serve my community.

And I know I shouldn't let anyone tell me who I am, but sometimes that's easier said than done.

So all of this just got me thinking about who I am now, and if I ever truly want to go home again.  It seems like a simple enough thing -- people move away from home all the time.  But, for me, the question of where I live, where I consider home, is so wrapped up in who I was taught to be, who I thought I was, the responsibilities I was told were mine.

And I just don't know anymore.

A Place to Call Home

When I was a kid, I always imagined what my life would be like outside of Hawaii.  As far as I was concerned, I had been born onto a tiny rock in the middle of an ocean and there was a wide, wide world out there just waiting for me to set sail.  As a teenager, I counted the days until my chance came and, when college rolled around, I was gone.

I think it took me until I left Hawaii to realize just how much a part of me that place is.  So much of who I am (almost everything, really) is a direct result of those islands, those people, that history.  I'm fairly certain everyone can say that about their home as well.  

As the years passed though, and I continued to live elsewhere, my connection to Hawaii became a little more frayed.  Yes, I've gone home to visit on average at least twice a year, and yes I still go by my Hawaiian name no matter where I'm living.  But unless I concentrate on it, I don't generally speak with my childhood accent, and unless I've recently returned from a long day at the beach (and where are there any good beaches here anyway?) my skin is shades lighter than it "should" be.  In Hawaii these two things are the initial markers of a local so, without them, I'm often mistaken as a tourist.  It's actually been pretty jarring to be with my older sister or my dad and to be confused as the haole (i.e. non-local) cousin from the mainland.

I think it's caused a bit of an identity crisis for me if I'm perfectly honest.  Particularly compounded with all the cultural identity stuff you're taught as a Native Hawaiian kid going to a Native Hawaiian school and learning about not only your historical connection to the land, but your responsibility to it and its people as well.

And maybe that's why it was really difficult for me to make the decision to give up my Hawaii residency.  I think I was worried that it would sever this already really tenuous tie I have to that place and my life there, my family.  It would make what those people are saying true; I really would become the haole from the mainland.

In the end though, I guess I just realized that what I check on a box for tuition purposes means very little when it comes down to it.  The fact is that I don't live in Hawaii right now, and yes, as a result my skin is lighter and my accent is softer.  Does that make it any less my home?  Does that make me any less Native Hawaiian?  Not at all.  In fact, I think I've gained a little bit of a sense of independence and freedom from all of this that can only help me to become a fuller, more well-rounded person as a whole so that, when I finally do go back (and I will), I'll know myself that much more.

It's sort of like a kid taking the training wheels off their bike for the first time.  It's scary, but it's the only way you'll ever learn to balance.

Hawaii.Love.Forever

This past weekend, on the anniversary of their 10th year of marriage, my sister and brother-in-law renewed their vows (they eloped the first time around) on a small beach in my hometown.  Despite all the fuss and stress that went into creating this day, the event itself was intimate and beautiful, with less than 30 people in attendance at a sunrise ceremony overlooking the ocean and mountains.

I can only hope my own wedding one day is as wonderful as this one was!

Homeward Bound

I'm so excited to be heading off to Hawaii for the rest of the week to hang out with family, watch my big sister renew her vows, and hopefully relax a little!  It's always amazing to be back at home, and to have the entire family together this time around (a rare occurrence these days), even if just for a little bit, is icing on the cake!

Have a great rest of the week and a wonderful weekend, everyone!

"on a white, sandy beach of hawaii..."

here are some highlights from my recent trip with N. to the big island, where i grew up.  it was most definitely not a white christmas, but it was pretty amazing anyway!

 

this is in honomu (ho-no-moo) village, directly across the street from the house i grew up in (in fact, those palm trees in the shadow belong to the ones in our front yard!).  my sisters and i would wait in front of this store -- which also makes really good blueberry ice cream -- for the school bus each morning when we were kids.  this is also where the old men in the village hang out during the day, drinking their coffees, reading their newspapers, and watching the tourists go by.  and that store to the left, glass from the past, is where i worked my first job!

 

looking down the street from our driveway.  this is the main street in our village, and it's usually busy with tourists driving up and down from the falls a few miles up the road.

 

looking up toward my house (which is right where that green sign is in the center of the photo) from the bottom of the street.  the village is really old (it was a plantation village back in the day, and most of the old timers still refer to areas of it by "camp" name), so you'll see a lot of these old style buildings, many of which now house touristy stores and art galleries.  at the top of the street, where those banyan trees are, is our town gym.  i grew up climbing those trees and playing with one my oldest friends who lived across the street from them.

 

while we were in hawaii, N. wanted to take a drive down to the south point of the big island, which also happens to be the southern most tip of the united states.  this was taken on the drive there, right before we go the town of na'alehu (na-a-lay-hoo), looking north up the coast towards hilo (hee-low).  the bay you see there is called punalu'u (poo-na-loo-oo), and it's one of hawaii's famous black sand beaches, where you'll regularly see turtles hanging around.

 

same as the above picture, except here we're looking south towards south point (which you cannot see in this picture).

 

the windmills down at south point.

 

more windmills down at south point.

 

this is south point on the big island.  people jump off of these cliffs into the ocean and try not to get themselves killed.  this is also a pretty big fishing spot, so those wooden things you see is where the fish are pulled up.  whenever i'm here, and i look out at the ocean, i can't help but thinking how vast and deep the ocean is, and how small i really am.

i just think the picture on this sign is hilarious.

 

that's my dad checking out the waves while N. and i take a dip in the warm springs down at pohoiki (po-ho-ee-kee).  he and N. eventually went surfing for a couple of hours while i splashed around and got burnt in the sun.

 

beautiful, beautiful hawaii.  this picture was actually taken last christmas, which you can tell by the fact that there's a huge storm cloud blowing in.  this time around, there was absolutely no rain, as evidenced by the insane sunburn i got on my back and shoulders.

 

N., my mom, my cousin, her boyfriend and myself went up to the summit of mauna kea (ma-oo-na kay-a), which means white mountain because it snows up there some winters.  it's one of the big islands four mountains.  this is on the drive up to the summit, looking south towards mauna loa (ma-oo-na low-a), which means long mountain.  mauna loa is one of the largest mountains on earth in terms of volume and area covered.  an interesting fact to note is that both these mountains are volcanic and, while dormant, are in no way extinct.  that means they can explode at any moment.  yes, i live on a ticking time bomb.

 

these are four of the twelve or fourteen government observatories at the summit of mauna kea.  though N. and i have argued quite heatedly about this, i'm going to just put out there as a fun fact that mauna kea is the tallest mountain on earth -- yes, even taller than mount everest -- if measured from the ocean floor.

 

me and N. at the summit, when we weren't bickering about which mountain is bigger than the other.

and that was the last two weeks spent in hawaii, nutshelled.  we also had our annual family christmas day cook-off (N. and i lost to my older sister and her husband), saw a bunch of my friends from childhood and high school,  visited pu'ukohala heiau (poo-oo-ko-ha-la hey-ow), went fishing with my dad, and hung out with my family.

i already miss it.

am i being oversensitive?

i know it seems like i've been talking a lot of about hawaii lately, and it might be because i'm homesick (and strangely touchy), but i just couldn't not write about this.

a few months ago, i posted the trailer of what was then a movie tentatively called, "princess ka'iulani."  the movie depicts the life of one of hawaii's beloved figures, a young, beautiful, incredibly intelligent woman who lived through the overthrow of her house and her country before dying at the age of 23. 

my initial thoughts on the movie were that, though i didn't wholly appreciate the addition of a romance to a history in which that romance didn't exist, i understood the need to make it appeal to people who don't have a vested interest in hawaii.

however, what i can in no way, shape or form understand is the need to officially title the movie, "barbarian princess," in order to make that same audience better connect to the film.

does this look like a barbarian princess to anyone?

from what i've read, the producers didn't mean to be insulting (and are perhaps even a little surpised that the title is being taken as an insult?).  they simply wanted to point out the irony of the name, "barbarian princess," since that's what american tabloids were calling ka'iulani while she traveled to washington d.c. to lobby congress, and she was anything but.  one news story evens quotes someone as saying something as insensitive as, "it's only a title."

okay.

how about this: the next time some film comes out about slavery, a film like "roots," we name it something like "them niggers."  i mean, yes, of course african americans are nothing near what the connotation of that name implies, but after all, it's just a title.  and this way everyone will see the irony of it, right?  is that okay? 

no, it's definitely not okay.  because it's insulting, insensitive, racist, ignorant, and just plain stupid.

same goes here.

it just seems like common sense that this title would upset a lot of people.  and it does.  i'm obviously one of them.

it's nice to know how far we haven't come as a respectful society.

for more on the movie (which debuted this past weekened on ka'iulani's birthday and at the hawaii international film festival) and it's controversial name, see here.

am i falling behind, or just insane?

i think it's because i've finally reached that age where friends of mine are settling down, but i've recently begun to feel like i'm falling behind in my own personal rat race.  it just seems to me that a lot of people my age are finding and beginning their careers, are planning weddings and getting married, are considering children (if they don't have them already, friends of mine in hawaii!), and probably most astounding of all, are buying homes.

i thought our economy was in the toilet?!

and it's not that i'm not happy for them.  i think it's more that i envy them their...security?  confidence?  direction?  because i'm no where near any of that.  i'm not even in the same ballpark, arena, city, state or country.  i might as well be off planet.  most of it's by choice (perhaps everything but the home-buying), yes, i take full responsibility for that.  but is something wrong with me for not wanting those things yet?

in my head i know that's a stupid question.  of course nothing's wrong with me.  if anything, i should consider myself smart for knowing that i'm not ready for marriage or children yet, right?  then maybe it's just the small town syndrome that's ingrained in me or something, because where i grew up i might as well be a spinster if i'm not [married and/or] having kids by the age of 25.  my mother had had three children by the time she was my age.  my sister was planning her second pregnancy.  when i log on to facebook, i see that so many of the people i went to high school with have kids already (not just one, plural).  and to some extent, it's not just me being crazy; my own mother has reminded me that i'd better not wait too long before i start my baby machine, my older sister keeps reminding me that i'm not getting any younger, and nor are her children, so i'd better hurry up and give them cousins, and even my grandfather has asked me why N. and i haven't gotten married yet.

because i'm not ready!  i'm sitting here, not having a single clue as to where my life is going, and you want me to get married, have kids, and take on a mortgage?  i don't even have a job!

and then there's the part of me that keeps thinking: are you really going to start a MA/PhD right now?  or not even now, in 2 years?  won't you be a little old for that?  won't you be like, 33 by the time you graduate, if you're lucky?  are you supposed to wait until that's over before you get married and have kids (i.e. grow up)?  and if you're honest with yourself, aren't you just spinning your wheels, trying a bunch of things out hoping that you hit the right one somewhere along the way?  do you think you have the luxury (read: money) to do that?  who are you, rockerfeller?

yes, i realize i sound insane.  i realize people do what i'm doing all the time, and people get married while they're in school, and people wait to have kids until a little later in life.  i guess this just sort of goes against my breeding or something.  i always thought i'd be a relatively young mother, that i'd be about 26 when i got married, and about 28 when i had my first kid, that i'd have a career by then and be sort of like super woman, doing it all spectacularly and making it look easy.  but i'm realizing now that, while the dream is nice, the component parts aren't what i want yet.  and i think it's just a little hard to let go of that dream and face this sort of crazy uncertainty that my life's become.

ulgh.  for the record, i totally didn't mean to bum anyone out.

blogging etiquette fail

have you ever been offended by what someone else wrote in their personal blog?  i'm not talking about liberal v. republican arguments, or snide remarks about perhaps liking bad music.  i'm talking about being seriously offended, like being called a piece of trash offended.  how did you handle it?  did you respond to the post?  did you ignore it?  should we, as voluntary blog readers, even waste our energy being offended by another's post?  i mean, isn't everyone entitled to their own opinion (even if their opinion makes them sound like a tool)? isn't that the whole point of blogging?  to be able to express your opinions openly and publicly?

but if that is the whole point -- that you can express close-minded, possibly racist and definitely classist opinions to God and country through your blog -- then doesn't the act of blogging necessarily welcome otherwise unsolicited responses?  should we, as bloggers, allow commentary from those we offend?  or should we, as blog readers, just click the "back" button on our web browsers and try to forget that this ignorant jerk (and their blog) even exist?  does your response change when dealing with a personal blog v. a more editorial/business oriented blog?

this all came about the other night while i was browsing through twenty-something bloggers, searching for bloggers in hawaii.  during my search, i came across a nearly-defunct blog written by a girl who isn't from hawaii, but lived there with her boyfriend back in 2008.  it was an interesting blog to begin with (i.e. very personal, to the point where i almost felt like i shouldn't be reading anymore because i didn't actually know this girl, and i'm not sure she'd want perfect strangers reading these things about her), so i hit the tag for "hawaii" to see if she mentioned anything about the islands in any of her posts.

oh, did she ever.

now, there have been several other times in my life when i've read something (usually about hawaii and/or hawaiians, and sometimes published as fact) that i felt was uninformed and insulting, and i've chosen to respond to those authors accordingly.  but i just couldn't do it this time.  i was so mad.  i'm generally not a very confrontational person, but i know that if i had commented on her post it most definitely would have been confrontational, just as insulting, and probably as close-minded about her as she is about hawaii (and, by default, me).

but i'm still left wondering 1) if i have any sort of "right" to be upset about a post some girl wrote on her blog more than a year ago which i read voluntarily, 2) if it's okay to write a response to her post on my blog that i don't really ever anticipate her reading, and 3) if this is just my induction into the the nature of blogging itself, much of which is made up of anonymous and passive-aggressive encounters.  i would love to know if any of you have had similar experiences, or just have insights into proper blogging etiquette.

also, because i didn't write a comment to her post, and i still had so much to say about it, i'm including it here.  if interested, you'll find a link to her original post as well as my initial uncensored and unsolicited response after the jump.

my unsent response to this open letter to the people of oahu:

i mean, it's one thing to be upset about something that may have happened (like having a car nearly run into hers) caused by a specific person at a specific time, and i can get behind a ranting post just as much as the next person.  but it's a completely separate thing to start an angry tirade against an entire island which not only mocks the locals that live there, but also shows a complete lack of understanding and compassion for a community she obviously knows nothing about.

because you know what?  yeah, people living with their entire extended families may not be okay with you, and it may show a lack of ambition in your opinion, but for a lot of the low income families in hawaii (i.e. local families, aka families like mine), that just so happens to be the only option we've got.  and it's also a cultural thing, which you would know if you ever considered learning a thing or two about the history of the place you're living in.

and you know what else?  i'm sorry, but it's pretty damn hard for people to keep their apartments (better known as the projects) looking like the sunshine-and-roses 'burbs you may have grown up in when they've got kids to feed, two full time minimum wage jobs to work that barely cover the rent and groceries, and the area they were lucky enough to find affordable housing in is already overridden by crime caused by unemployment, drug addiction, and skyrocketing cost of living rates which aren't helped by all the wealthy folk moving to hawaii, buying up property in the nice areas, and raising all the property taxes without giving a thought to the effect that's having on a people that have been there for hundreds of years and that have been made second-class citizens in their own homeland by ignorance like this.

oh, and p.s. regardless of the fact that i have family in the army and airforce, even i can't deny that the military is blamed for ruining a lot of hawaii because they illegally overthrew our government, they ruined one of the most beautiful bays we have and turned it into the disaster that is now pearl harbor, and they used an entire island for target practice.  and they continue to use whole mountain ranges for the same thing, meaning their big ass trucks get a free pass to trample all over indigenous plants and wildlife, tearing up land that -- in a place like hawaii -- was probably sacred once but is now littered with shells and unexploded munitions among other things.   look it up, there's about ten years worth of government reports and court cases on the topic of military pollution in hawaii. 

and first you want to say that if the military weren't in hawaii it should just be turned into a landfill for all the trash, and then say that locals can stay because we'd fit in so nicely?!

go home.

The Beach Day

Some creative writing fluff I began on the plane ride back from Hawaii last week.

I’m more comfortable waking up in my grandparents home than I am waking up anywhere else in the world. This is where I feel most safe, most loved, most free to be who I am. In the house I grew up in, the house that will probably remain in my family for generations to come.

This is what I’m thinking as my heavy eyes start to slowly flutter open one morning.

It’s still dark. That’s my second, not-so-coherent thought. It’s still dark, and there’s a storm passing over the island. I can hear the rain on the iron roof, another comfort. It’s loud, sounding more like nails than water, and I can hear the periodic Splat! Splat! every other second as those drops hit the ti leaves outside of the bedroom window.

I fix my bleary eyes on the new alarm clock my grandmother purchased and put on the bedside table before I arrived a few days earlier. I have to squint to see numbers rather than just a bright fluorescent green glow; I don’t have my contacts on and am too lazy to reach for my glasses. Once I focus, I can see that it reads 4:07 A.M. No wonder it’s still dark.

I was hoping this would be a beach day, and it would seem that this storm had other ideas, but I know better than to make this call based on the fact that it’s raining at 4 a.m. on this particular side of the island. After all, when is it not raining at 4 a.m. on this side of the island? Comforted by this thought, and by the rhythm of the falling rain, I snuggle back down into blankets I don’t really need, and doze off.

I know it’s light out before I open my eyes again.

My first thought is that the rain has stopped. I can hear the mynah birds hanging out in the coconut trees in the back of the house, the new puppy my aunt got is digging and sniffing at something outside of my window, and the cars are already going up and down the street with quiet regularity.

I don’t open my eyes yet, it always takes me a while. Instead, I bring my arms over my head and yawn. That’s when I feel the bed depress at the footboard under some new weight. I feel that same weight move across the bottom of the bed and settle, slowly, between my calves. Testing, I stretch my legs out, bring my feet together, and come up against something warm and immovable. I nudge it, and am greeted with the familiar soft Meow of my blue calico sweetheart, my Mija. I open my eyes and she’s staring back at me from her curled position, waiting. Obligingly, I move my legs aside towards the edge of the bed and give her more room. Satisfied, she yawns, puts her head down, brings her paw up to cover her face, and falls asleep, exhausted, no doubt, after her evening of playing Queen of the Castle while the rest of the household slept.

Quietly, so as not to disturb Her Majesty, I slip out of bed and clear my fuzzy brain. I can hear the sounds of life on the other side of the bedroom door, and I mentally place my family. My mother is at work, she’d have left a little after 7:00 this morning to make it to the Pet Hospital in town half an hour away. My older sister and her son couldn’t make it to Hilo this weekend, so they’re not here. My brother in law, is in Iraq for his second tour. Little Sister, who’s home for vacation as well, is more than likely still asleep, sprawled across her bed in the next room. I look at the clock again: 8:45 A.M. She won’t be up for another hour, at the earliest. I can hear the laundry going, so my grandmother is probably out in the garage hanging clothes on the line to dry. On the other hand, I can’t here Papa walking around their bedroom, or watching TV, so he’s mostly likely sitting in his chair out on the deck. That’s everyone, all accounted for.

Turning around to find my contact lens case, I remember that I wanted to head to the beach today. Thinking this, I look toward the window and smile. There, visible above the banana trees and the roof of our neighbor Miss Kat’s garage, is the slice of blue I’m looking for. The sky hasn’t yet turned that bright, bold, legendary blue of Hawaiian fantasies, but the pale blue of the morning holds promise. I step to the window and glance out through the screen. Not a cloud in the sky. The 4 a.m. rainstorm has blown out to journey across the Pacific.

By mid-morning, I’m antsy. I sit outside with my grandfather, play cards with my grandmother, watch the old men of the village sit outside of the General Store across the street and sip their coffees, take note of the number of tourists in shiny cars heading up the street to start their mornings off with a hike around Akaka Falls, and wait for my sister to wake up. I’ve decided that it is, after all, a beach day. The sky has become a crisp, deep blue, and the sun is already drying the wet left over on the grass and the pavement. There’s a nice, cool, clean breeze coming down from the Hamakua Coast, and it doesn’t smell of the rain. Now, on most days I wouldn’t think much of these signs; what the weather is like on the Windward side of the island says pitifully little of what the weather will be like on the Leeward side. But I feel it today, a prickling on my skin, a knowing in my bones: it’s a beach day.

It’s nearly 10 a.m. when Little Sister finally peeks her head out of the screen door and I can tell her that I’ve committed her to laying around on the sand with me at Hapuna all day. She agrees with a smile and disappears inside to, I assume, choose which bathing suit she’ll use. She has the best bathing suit body, and it never ceases to annoy me. We head out for the hour-long drive before 11:00, armed with a cooler of sodas, some musubi, and a plan to pick up some fried chicken from KTA in Waimea on the way over.

The drive from Honomu to Waikaloa seemed horribly long when I was a kid. Anything after Kolekole Beach Park, which is three minutes from Honomu, seemed like it took forever to get to. My sisters and I found ways of amusing ourselves on those long drives, and we still use those methods today. We wait for the passing of the three horseshoes – Maulua, Laupahoehoe, and Kawili gulches – we stop off at Tex Drive-in for some of their famous malasadas, we take a spin down to the Waipio Valley look out, we count cows in the pasture lands leading into Waimea, attempt to pick out paniolo amongst them, we stop at KTA for any last-minute necessities, then we hold our breath and hope that, once we get to dry-side Waimea, the weather is clear and warm.

On this particular day, we’re not disappointed. As green, grassy fields give way to the yellow-brown dryness of mountain slopes, and then the dramatic black and sapphire of sand-dotted coastline, the weather drastically changes from cool to blistering. The ocean is still today, thankfully. There are no white-caps, no thick bands of white wash along the beaches. The breeze that’s been blowing through the driver’s side window of my grandfather’s Dodge grows warmer and, in complete sync, Little Sister and I roll both cab windows the rest of the way down. She leans over to turn up the radio. Content with this ritual, I reach my arm out of the window, bring my fingers together, and let it rest on the wind creating wave forms as we drive.

The popularity of Hapuna’s fine white sand and wide expanse of sunbathing space, as well as the upscale resort sitting on its edge, mean that, as usual, the parking lot is busy and difficult to maneuver. Because we’re in the monstrosity known as the Dodge, we decide to save ourselves the grief of waiting for a closer space and just park in the far lot, where the rest of the oversized trucks have found homes. Climbing out, my feet hit the pavement and I immediately feel the heat of the black tarmac through my slippers. We grab the cooler, shopping bag, and our beach bags and head down the trail to the beach, passing bathrooms, pavilions, and frying tourists on the way. As usual, we lay down our towels on the left side of the beach, closest to the rock cliff bordering Hapuna cove, and farthest from the resort on the opposite end. Here, we may get a shot at some shade, should the heat become too much to handle. The only risk is that there are ants that live under the keawe growing nears that rock cliff, so we keep a slight distance to be safe.

It’s hard to explain what happens when my body hits the towel, when I dig my fingers into the sand, when I close my eyes and feel the muscles in my body relax one by one. I often say this when I step off of planes in Honolulu, but it rings more true here: it really is like my skin recognizes Hawai‘i. It’s the tingle I was talking about earlier. When the familiar heat warms my shoulders and cheeks, I feel most at home. There’s only a slight wind here today, and it carries on it the coconut of sunblock my sister is massaging into her arms, the deliciousness of grilled chicken and hot dogs from the pavilions near the showers, and that unique smell of the ocean I’ve learned I can’t live without.

The day passes in a relaxing haze. Little Sister and I leave our towels periodically to jump into the gentle surf and swim out until we can barely touch the sandy bottom with the tips of our toes. We come back in and collapse again, then enjoy the way the sun dries droplets of salt water on our backs. We eat our musubi, chicken and malasadas, and take a short walk down half of the beach, making sure we don’t crush anyone’s sand castles along the way. I fall asleep for a few minutes to the sound of the restless waves, the chatter of sunbathers, and the happy sound of families enjoying a beach day. We spend hours of this lazy Saturday this way, and sooner than it seems it should be, it’s time to go.

We trace our path home and pull into our long driveway a little after 4:30 that afternoon. My mother isn’t home from work yet, but my grandparents wave and greet us from the front deck where they’ve been listening to music and calling out Hello’s to other village members throughout the day. We step out of the truck and head into the house. My body is slightly achy in the places where I neglected to reapply sunscreen after making my way out of the surf. By the time I go to bed tonight, those areas have turned a slight pink which will last for exactly two days before fading into the brown that is my Native Hawaiian heritage. I shower gently, being sure not to aggravate my skin any more than it may already be, but the cool/warm water washing the salt out of my hair feels almost as good as it felt getting the salt into my hair. Replacing the smell of sunblock with the smell of my lavender shampoo is bittersweet, and I’m already calculating when is the next time I’ll be able to head out to Hapuna again. Before dressing, like any self-respecting local girl, I check out my tan lines. Then, in deference to my sunburnt skin, I dress in the loosest pair of shorts and a tank I own, and rub Aloe gel all over my back and shoulders. The cooling sensation feels like heaven.

It is much later, at 11:00 when I’m finally getting ready for bed, that I hear it: Splat! Splat!

I pause for a second in the act of throwing throw pillows on the floor. There it is, that Splat! Splat! again, followed by the soft sound of water falling on the iron roof, growing louder and louder as the minutes pass.

I smile as I fall asleep to the rhythm of the falling rain, with Mija curled at the foot of my bed. It was a great beach day.

back from paradise

this video always makes me miss hawaii. listened to this song a few times on the flight back.

news from hawaii

i thought this would be an interesting follow-up to my article, since it recalls a situation extremely similar to this one (and put on, in fact, by the same organization) some years ago. it was a success and, hopefully, this one will be as well. if you are in hawaii, i encourage you to participate. if not, it may just be a good opportunity (if you're interested) to be introduced to the kind of issues native hawaiians face on a daily basis, and to read more about it.

i'll post more regarding the supreme court when it comes out!

Aloha Kakou,

'Ilio'ulaokalani Coalition is gathering at the State Capitol Rotunda at 4 am on February 25th, 2009. (I know most of you are not doing anything at that hour) We encourage all native Hawaiians and supporters of protecting our ceded lands from being sold and/transferred to join us.

We will be sharing our pule, drumming and chanting every hour on the hour from 5 am to 4 pm. At 5 am Honolulu time, the US Supreme Court will be hearing the case brought by Gov. Lingle who is seeking the right to sell our ancestral lands. We need to send our pule to give strength and mana to those that are representing us.

Please bring your pahu, pu kani and/or pu 'ohe to assist in the calling of our people.

Bring your 'ohana, haumana and hoaloha.

Bring your own water, mea 'ai (food), chairs, hali'i (mats) for resting in between.

Kumu hula will be sharing/teaching oli between sessions so you can lend your mana and voices to this effort.

We encouarge you to visit your state legislators in between protocols to encourage them to support bills calling for a moratorium on the sale and transfer of ceded lands. Write and submit your testimony.

Talk story with our kupuna and find out more about these issues.

If you are on the neighbor island or on the continent, gather your own 'ohana and join us in spirit. If you have any questions, can kokua in any way or need more information please call Kaho'onei at 224-8068 or Vicky at 754-2301. And feel free to pass this information on to those you may know that should be participating.

Mahalo nui loa!

Vicky Holt Takamine

Kumu Hula, Pua Ali'i 'Ilima

'Ilio'ulaokalani Coalition

does it always come down to race?

what exactly is race? is race a real thing? is it something we decide for ourselves (i.e. "i'm white."), or is it something that is decided for us (i.e. "i'm white." "no, no. you're actually not. you're mexican.").

what was your first experience with race?

and what, to you, is the difference between race and ethnicity?

i think growing up in hawaii, i was afforded the almost luxury of growing up, not being white, and not knowing i was supposedly "underprivileged" or "disadvantaged." whatever the heck that means today. native hawaiians, mixed race people, we're the dominant crowd in hawaii. and i'll be the first to admit that it's difficult to be a white person in hawaii. there is a certain amount of hostility there if you don't fit in with the "brown crowd".

so when i go home, my pidgin accent thickens and i see how i get much better service at a local food joint than the white guy in line after me. i notice that it's easier for me to comfortably ask people for directions because i know that, out of respect, i'll call that someone "aunty" or "uncle". i make myself fit in again because i realize the benefit of it.

but when i'm here, in the mainland, i'm all of a sudden mexican! i'm not mexican! then again, nor am i only native hawaiian. my first experience with race was probably kamehameha, which would explain why i identify more with being native hawaiian than i do with anything else. at kamehameha, you're taught not only to value being native hawaiian, but almost to value it to the extent of all else. so i'm native hawaiian first. then i'm filipino, portuguese, spanish, puerto rican, chinese, french.

but i'm always native hawaiian first.

so is this something i can choose? to be native hawaiian first? even though people outside of hawaii either consider me to be latina or white (fyi: i pass as white, more or less)? or am i those other things, because race is more an external label than an internal label?

i didn't just pull this conversation out of no where. i'm actually in my race and justice class right now and am pretty much transcribing the conversation verbatim.

i'd love your thoughts!

Happy Christmas!

i don't know why, but i've always thought that the british way of saying "happy christmas" instead of "merry christmas" sounded better, so i'm trying it out.

But given where i am, i guess i should say Mele Kalikimaka instead!

also, in terms of a very short book review:

very interesting.

K. had suggested i read this book a few months ago and i finally found the time to do it. it took me about a day off and on, and i've been trying to decide what i think of the book every since i finished it.

the book is written in a series of letters that this high school freshman boy, Charlie, sends to an unidentified reader throughout the school year, and through these letters we get to experience Charlie's life. he's an awkward kid with great taste in music (this occurs in the 90's, so it's a lot of the smith's and nirvana, etc.), and an apparently astounding IQ. he reads and writes and smokes and drinks, and he's in love with his best friend, Sam (a girl).

i just spent the passed 15 minutes writing up my thoughts on this book and what happens and what Charlie goes through and how he grows, etc., and then deleted it all. it makes no sense for me to try and explain this book. there's just too much going on, and definitely too much to take in. let's just say i like the book and think you should give it a shot. it's one of those books where, if you don't like it in the first few pages, you won't like the entire thing, so at least you'll be able to figure it out quicky and decide whether to finish it or not!

hello december, it's been a while

it is officially the last month of what's probably been the most difficult year of my life. i've been waiting for december to arrive for a while now, and can only breathe a sigh of relief now that it's finally here.

what i'm looking forward to this month:

• going home, obviously! i'll be in hawaii from dec. 17th-30th this year, which will give me the much-needed vacation i've been looking forward to, and will allow me to get my fill of my boondock-y home town until next time.
• seeing my new niece for the first time! she's 6 months old and i haven't met her yet!
• playing with my nephew, who seems to realize his agency more and more each time i see him. why can't they stay 2 years old forever?
• christmas shopping! we need to stimulate our economy people! :)
  
• visiting with my grandparents. probably what i'm looking forward to most, even if it'll most likely mean playing hours upon hours of gin rummy. i miss them like absolute crazy. i've also been wanting to get my family history/stories out of my grandfather, so maybe i'll find time to video record him while i'm there.
• watching the bf bond with my dad over throw-netting and spear fishing. it'll be a sight to see, and i'm bringing my camera.
• reading. i've got a book list as long as my arm. see it on the right hand side of my blog.
  
• reclaiming the tan i've lost somewhere along the way.
• finally finishing my article! it's been months and months in coming, and it'll finally be ready for publication! woo!
• ending what's been the worst semester of my academic career.
• christmas! i love absolutely everything about christmas. i've got lists ready to go and cookies ready to bake.
• writing for fun. i plan on sitting on the patio and writing till my hands fall off.
• the beach. ohhhhh, the beach. ocean so blue it looks fake. sand so warm it burns your feet. *SIGH*
• hilo rain. i know this seems like the exact opposite from the last one, but the fact is that hilo is one of the rainiest places in the united states, with quillayute/forks, WA coming in next of course. it's just that it rains at night (every night). so you go to the beach during the day, then fall asleep to a storm. there's nothing like it.
• seeing some of the bffs for the first time since lehua's wedding in june. it's tradition to go to this italian place and order the same exact thing every single time.
• seeing my mom. i don't know if you can ever miss anyone the way you miss your mother.
  

just 17 days and counting!

happy december everyone!


also, and kind of randomly, i don't know if i've mentioned this before but i think the Lord of the Rings movies are some of my favorite movies ever, which is saying a lot considering how hard it is for me to pick a favorite anything. i decided this over the weekend, since tbs has been playing the movies over and over, and we (meaning me, the bf, and the bf's bff) have been watching them. not only do those movies give me the opportunity to see new zealand again, which can't be discounted (my bf and i met and started dating while studying abroad in new zealand), but they are just ridiculously well-made films.

i've read the books (the hobbit through the silmarilian). i love the books. and i think the movies were such clever adaptations of one of the best stories ever written. i mean, tolkien created an entire world. how do you do that? it's amazing.

damn, now i need to add that series to the book list again...

and finally, i think bella's lullaby is growing on me. put it on repeat and it's great study music. still not sure if i like it as that specific song though...

interesting...

a crash course in hawaiian history...or not.

on one hand, i'm glad that a movie is being made, because i don't think a lot of people are aware of what happened to hawaii. and i guess i understand why they had to add a romance that for all intents and purposes never even happened into it. this is hollywood, after all. but on the other hand, i definitely think it could have been compelling enough without the romance.

i guess i can only say that i hope q'orianka kilcher (who, don't get me wrong, i support whole-heartedly as a native actress) plays princess ka'iulani as a strong woman. because i'd like to think she was a strong woman who would have made even more of a difference in the fate of hawaii had she lived.

Native Hawaiian Independence?

Hey Everyone!

Please feel free to cut-and-paste this message and forward it on to family, friends, colleagues, listservs, and organizations you feel would be interested in participating!

I am currently conducting a survey to measure opinions regarding the possible creation of a sovereign government for native Hawaiians. I am hoping that individuals (whether they be Native Hawaiian, Native American, residents of Hawaii, non-residents, or simply interested parties) may be willing to weigh in on this topic, providing thoughts and suggestions as to the pros and cons of federal recognition, indicating whether there is support for the federal recognition of native Hawaiians, and more.

To participate in the survey, please visit http://www.surveymonkey.com/s.aspx?sm=1gyih87QmmxyZJrLqAJA_2bA_3d_3d

The survey has been designed so that you can answer anywhere from one to all of the questions.

As you all know, I am a third year, native Hawaiian student at the University of San Francisco School of Law. My intent is to publish the results of this survey in an article that will be available for consideration by lawyers, judges, legislators and the general public. This article could make a significant contribution in terms of policy making regarding the future recognition of native Hawaiians. I am committed to sharing the results of this survey with Indian country, as well as with the Hawaiian and Native communities at large.

Thank you, in advance, for your participation.