Downtown Pa’ia
I am an early riser by nature, but when hanging in the tropics, I am even more so. The first sign of dawn and I am up and at ’em. The mosquitos had a field day on me last night, but I scratched myself like a mad woman and shrugged it off.
I headed straight for Pa’ia, a town that a few friends told me I would like, as it is like Eugene with better weather. And in fact, it did appear to be an extension of Eugene. As I walked down Baldwin Avenue, I took note of the man having a serious argument with himself, and losing. I saw that he bore a striking resemblance to the man in the Whiteaker (a Eugene hood) who also walks down the street having a serious argument with himself, and losing. Hippies and other counter culture characters color the town and I immediately felt right at home. I have been living in and visiting other hippie towns for 22 years now and it always warms my heart to do so.
It was still early and I went to the Buddhist temple to observe the going ons. While I didn’t understand the words, I sat and prayed with the monks and offered my respects to the tradition they were carrying on. They were adorned in saffron colored robes and that color represents immune strength. I soaked it up.
Tropical Fruit in Mana Foods, Paia
Mana Foods is like Eugene’s Sundance Natural Foods, one of my favorite stores at home. I stocked up on some protein rich staples. I for sure felt like home when I saw Humboldt Fog cheese, probably my favorite cheese from the states. Being able to procure this wonderful goat cheese, layered with charcoal to separate the morning and evening milk is awesome. But the fact that I can get it in Anchorage and get it in Maui and get it in Eugene is particularly awesome. Foodies abound on the West Coast! And for a moment I pondered that the cheesemaker must face decisions to keep it local or go global. How do they honor their dreams, while making a living along the way. But I snapped back to reality, grabbed some local fruit that I don’t encounter in the mainland, lycii berries, egg fruit, sopates and now I was ready to hit the road. However, anyone who knows me will be shocked to know that later in the day, I realized I forgot dark chocolate!
My day was slow and I savored the moments – the sunshine, the dramatic scenery, and the quiet as I parked my car and wandered into the jungle. There were lots of other people who also took the road to Hana today, so I was not alone. But I did make a point of going to a couple places beyond where most tourists go. In fact, I am somewhat amazed at the way the 80/20 rules plays out here, although it’s more like the 98/2 rule. 98% of the people will go about 2% up or down the path and 2% will go further, at which that point, 98% of the beauty can be fully appreciated. On the Waikamoi Nature Trail I hiked past the sign that says, the trail ends here. And I got to what looks like a waterfall in the dry season. There was still water flowing, but a lot of the river rocks were revealed and curvy through years of erosion. So I climbed over some and sunned myself on them, looking at the blue water hole below me and the gentle stream of water up above me. I seemed to lose track of time and perhaps that’s a good thing. For a couple hours, the adventure had morphed into melting into rocks and listening to the insects and birds.
The Jungle Seen from Waikamoi Nature Trail
At some point, the sunny skies gave way to a tropical storm. I continued my adventure and walked down to Honomanu Bay, resembling a drowned rat more and more, as the minutes ticked by. A nice woman in a pickup truck offered me to jump in the back of the truck, but I declined, as I truly was loving walking. Living in Oregon, I rarely experience warm rain. It is either warm, or, if it is raining, it is not warm. But here I stood, swooning in the tropical rains and I was instantly brought back to my summer camp days in the Appalachian’s in Connecticut. I loved dancing in the warm rain then and I still love it. The inner child is alive and flourishing.
In the tropics, very few plants (of the uncultivated variety) are the same plants that grow in the temperate regions. If I were to ever move to the tropics, I would need to relearn herbalism and would probably be back to taking plant identification 101. But I did pass elder trees in full bloom and waved at them. I hadn’t a clue that elder grew in Hawaii, be it native or imported.
I stopped for the evening at the YMCA Camp in Ke’anae. It provided some much needed shelter from the storms and I was lucky enough to be the only person staying in a building that slept 72 people. I am retiring early and drifting off to sleep, while listening to the rain pounding on the metal roof and periodically glancing at the ocean.
The View from the YMCA in Ke’anae