Collisions

The Hawaiian Islands are a work in progress. They aren’t finished yet. Six million years ago a northwesterly crawling plate inched over a hot spot in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and the top of a mountain peaked out for the ocean to form Kauai, the oldest major Hawaiian Island. The plate kept sliding and Oahu, Moloka’i, Lana’i, Kaho’olawe and Maui were born. Currently, Hawai’i, or the big island, is being shaped by this hot spot and pretty soon (10,000 years) the plate will move on and a new island, Loihi, will form.

Hawaii is not only geographically perpetually changing. In fact, the population of Hawaii changes every day. Hawaii is seen for the first time though the eyes of thousands of new tourists each day. Those who inhabit Hawaii and enjoy the trade winds everyday of the year are also diverse. Native Hawaiians, Japanese, Americans from the mainland, Chinese and many others. Yet, the fast food restaurants, super markets, over-sized SUVs and road signs with “miles” are a constant reminder that we are still in the USA.

Collisions were a central part of our time in Hawaii. The first three days revolved around exploring geologic collisions while the last two days were the cultural collisions. “Collision” is not meant to be negative, but indicates the sudden meeting of two different things and how they form a whole. Collisions are the source of Hawaii’s existence, life and island spirit and constant evolution.

On the Big Island we rented a cabin on the slopes of Kilauea, one of the most active and luckily, most understood volcanoes in the world. The high elevation and dampness made it much colder than my apartment in New York (even though this Hawaiian shelter was significantly more expensive to rent), but waking up and stepping outside to plant life so green it seemed radioactive, tropical birds’ songs and the summoning of nearby volcanoes made it worth it.

Our first breakfast in Hawaii prepared us for a day of hiking. The breakfast buffet at the Volcano Inn included papaya, pineapples, bananas, French toast, pancakes, bacon, sausage, potatoes and Kona coffee. We ate at a table overlooking the smoky crater of Kilauea.

The extravagant breakfast came in handy on our 14 mile hike over solidified pahoehoe lava. Other than the red firework flowers breaking their way through cracks in the solidified lava, there was no life to be seen. Yet the fossilized curves of bulges of the ground spoke of past movement and gave the ground a life of its own. The foggy skies and smoking earth made it seem like we were traversing the mountains of Mars. Then suddenly, we’d come upon an oasis of trees, vines, soil, moss and ferns. This patch of land wasn’t hit by lava anytime in the recent past and gives testament to both the power of the lava and the persistence of green life.

The following day’s morning fuel was coconut pancakes with guava, passion fruit and coconut syrup and Kona coffee at Ken’s pancake house in Hilo. Our bodies couldn’t really handle another double digit mile hike, but found ourselves in the middle of crater, underground in a tube of lava and relaxing among the black sands, crashing waves and banyan trees of Hilo.

Then came the whole reason behind the trip. My best friend in Japan, Maki was having her wedding in Honolulu. In the spirit of the trip so far, we took showers with the insects in the campground bathrooms (thankfully it was hot, somewhat justifying the price of shelter) and I threw on a vintage Hawaiian print dress I picked up in a Queens’ thrift shop the day before leaving. The flight to Honolulu went smoothly and we arrived in time for the wedding.

Oahu in the Hawaiian language means “the gathering place,” and besides being the most populated and ethnically diverse islands, it was the place for Maki and I to rekindle our friendship and enjoy laughing together again. Maki was a volunteer Japanese teacher at the Sakata International Center that took me as a student. After a few sessions, structure and grammar were thrown to the wind and we spent our time together gossiping and learning about each other’s worlds. Whether it was on purpose or not, her support helped give me the confidence to make the most out of my time in Japan. Also, because she lives for experiences and can find anything, even a trip to the grocery store, to be extremely interesting she’s a great companion. After all she had done for me in Japan, I felt like the least I could do is show up for wedding.

On Oahu, speaking Japanese with Maki, being surrounded by Japanese girls that reminded me of my students, turning on the TV to see Japanese TV channels, I was constantly disoriented. I wanted to be a guide for Maki in America, but I didn’t know much more about Hawaii than she did so just we so many times before in Japan, we explored together.

The four of us drove around the entire island stopping for pineapple plantations, monuments to kings of the past, sea turtles, and quesadillas and tacos (one part of “American” culture that I was happy to introduce Maki to, Mexican food).

My trip to Hawaii was very reinvigorating. In a way, reuniting with Maki was a way to close the Japan chapter of my life. The things that happened there have now become “memories” but at the same time I can see more clearly the good things I took from the experience. Namely, a friendship with a woman whose independence, bravery and kindness will always inspire me. Also, I feel less stressed about life directions and future careers and economic recessions. I think the volcanoes worked some magic (and I don’t mean the toxic fumes). I feel more able to handle the lack of control I have over my life and its course. Collisions and eruptions and wrong choices are going to happen no matter what, but what they ultimately create may look more like a masterpiece than a disaster.