Breathing Space

Wala’au Manawa

We left Upcountry Maui and checked-in to a Waikiki hotel where David attended a board meeting and I views the Kapaemahu Exhibition at the Bishop Museum. Included in the exhibition is a video history of “The Glades”, the nightclub in the 60s and it’s
performers who were talked about and poked fun at for their infamous behavior. The video history reveals some of their stories and the human rights that they were denied.

The next day I joined some members of the Dorcy Foundation for a tour of the University Of Hawai’i’s Hawaiian Studies Department led by Dean Jon Osorio and a presentation by Professor Kamana Beamer whose additional activity is educating the public about the water contamination on O’ahu.

The following morning, we toured the USS Bowfin in Pearl Harbor led by Executive Director Charles Merkel and then walked through the Pacific Air Museum on Ford Island. The attack on Pearl Harbor became very vivid to me when I saw the bullet holes from Japanese planes that remained in the shattered windows of the hanger. I stood under that same sky where planes flew over demolishing Pearl Harbor. I am grateful that I wasn’t born then to experience that dreadful day.

The two days juxtaposed each other—one saving the islands in war and 80 years later the same source ruining the water source on O’ahu.

Very early Thursday morning, as we were driven to the airport, the full moon set over the horizon reminding me that the Kapaemahu Stones completed their healing during the course of a full moon.

Thus the continuation of my journey began by flying back to Reno, saying hasta la vista to David, and immediately catching a JetBlue flight to JFK where I loitered around that terminal for eight hours before takeoff to my next landing.

I had time on my hands (and my bums) to reflect on my visit to my island home:

Maui reminds me of an extraordinary stunning being who everyone wants to touch. They cover her body with concrete jewelry, wipe her face with red dirt makeup, and scar her skin with scraped residuals of sugar glitter and homeless residents.

I dig deeper to remember the island’s essence—clouds’ silver mists breathe upon the green slopes of Waipoli, chatter of pre-dawn feathered tree dwellers in Pukalani, lava fields that show what was of the aina before us.

This trip has lessons for me. Stay with me while I find out what they are.

By mauiwriter


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