Kama'aina Cookies

I thought I'd share photos of a mural painted at the inter-island terminal at Honolulu Airport. The now defunct Aloha Airlines commemorated Hawaii of old with this painting. It was impossible to show the entire mural in one shot. I love how it shows the important places on each island using mostly images, not words - cities, fishing villages, volcanoes, ranches, flowers.

It's beautiful and I wish I could have seen Hawaii back then.

But I am in Hawaii of today.

Feeling settled in a new place takes time and certain turning points to establish the "I live here" moment. For me, it happened the day I left physical therapy on Kapi’olani Blvd., drove to the hairdressers to get my hair done and made an appointment to see the dentist. All things I do in a place where I live.

Hawaiians call it kama’aina; a person who lives in Hawaii.

Over on the Big Island, Mark, my sister and her family and I went to dinner at a large hotel on the water. Once we sat down, I handed a box of Honolulu Cookie Company cookies to each of my nieces. They make delicious shortbread cookies in different varieties; coffee, lilikoi, plain dipped in chocolate and coconut, some have fruit in the middle.

After dinner, our waiter, hands full of dishes he had just cleared, nodded to the cookies on the table. “Are those from Big Island Candies?”
I answered, “No, they’re from Honolulu Cookie Company. We live on Oahu and brought them with us.”
He looked at me, lowered his voice and said, “Do you have local ID?”
Mark reached for his wallet. “Why, yes, we do.” I said. “You give Kama’aina discounts?”

The waiter said, “You asked me, right?”
“Right.” I said. "I asked you."

He returned with our dinner bill and gave us a 12% discount. My brother-in-law loved the fact they gave discounts to locals. Everywhere we stopped after that he’d say loudly, in front of our servers, “You guys must really like living here.” Or to the waitperson, “They live here. Don’t they look like they live here?”

We never got a kama’aina rate after that.

Travel Mates - The U.S. Marines

After spending three days on the beach, I actually have a slight tan. The Hawaiian sun reached me below an umbrella, a big hat and 45 SPF sunscreen. It's a good start and I didn't burn. I had joked about my San Francisco fog tan. Irish genetics gave me white skin which freckles.

We flew back to Oahu from the Big Island on a Hawaiian Airlines Boeing 717. It's not a small plane, but not really a large one either and we shared it with 50 sunburned and tired-looking United States Marines.

I joked about our flight not needing any Air Marshals.

We sat in front of the emergency exit row with Marines sitting behind us. I heard the flight attendant instructing them on emergency procedures.

Flight Attendant: "You guys okay with assessing the situation for danger, deciding to open the door and helping passengers out?"

My guess is they're perfectly trained for that scenario.

That's my little black bag on the conveyor belt at our baggage claim. My bag was easy to find. It looked like none of the others. How often does that happen?

Anyone else remember the Tom Lehrer song, "Send The Marines"?

Big Island Weekender

We DID go to the beach. On the Big Island. For my niece's 16th birthday. We surprised my sister, her husband and my nieces, who were vacationing there during Spring Break. Here are some photos from the leeward side of Hawaii.

The Big Island is rural compared to Oahu. The weather was in the low 80's every day and with much less humidity than what we've experienced here.

When we first arrived, I took a photo of my niece on the beach and sent it to her. I sent another photo to my other niece. They found Mark and me enjoying a hamburger beachside at their hotel.

Now that I live a five hour flight away from my nieces, I'm taking every opportunity to see them. At sixteen, my older niece will be off to college in two years. Yep, taking every opportunity now.

The King's Music

In my last post I forgot to mention how we had to leave the apartment for two hours after Reid sprayed.

We drove to Ala Moana Shopping Center to stop at the Apple Store. We heard music playing. Hawaiian music. The kind my parents and grandparents listened to on the "Hawaii Calls" radio show from the 60's and 70's.

We followed the sound to Centerstage at the shopping center where The Royal Hawaiian Band was playing. I reminisced about days playing with dolls on the floor of my grandparents house while they listened to Hawaii Calls and The Lawrence Welk show. I should mention they had radiant heat in their 1949 built house in the San Francisco Bay Area. Sitting on the floor was warm and comforting to a kid.

Here's their website. Royal Hawaiian Band Beautiful music to transport you to the old Hawaii you may or may not have known.


I won't be blogging for a few days. We're actually going to spend time at the beach! I'll take photos and post them later. Aloha

Beauty and the Crawling Beasts

Anyone who knows me knows I am not an early riser. So, why I opened my eyes at 6:10 am this morning, I don't know. It could have been the sounds of the tropical birds chirping and cooing outside the bedroom window. It could have been the neighbors air conditioning unit that whirred on and off all night, starting up again. Or, it could be I was meant to get up to see this morning's sunrise.




The rest of the day wasn't so beautiful. It was "cockroach exterminator" day here at our complex. Reid came to our door in his socks and his bright orange shirt with the company logo on it. I cheered when I saw him in our kitchen. We've had cockroach problems since we moved in almost 2 weeks ago.

But today, my hero, Reid, wandered the hallway with me where I showed him the spots where I see roaches. Mark showed him a hole in the corner of the room where we think roaches enter.

Reid looked down and said, "Oh, you have a little puka there. I spray down it."

Puka? The only puka I ever heard of was the shell necklace we wore in the 70's. You know the ones. Small white shells with a hole in the middle....oh, a hole in the middle.

Spiritual Roots in a Lush Green Land

In 1992 my mom and I took a tour of Ireland in search of my Grandma's roots. We saw the historical and spiritual places important to our family lineage. I learned Irish history, drank in Irish pubs and listened to old-timers tell stories about Irish fairies who weren't to be messed with.

I didn't believe much in spiritual stories of places and people from a thousand years ago, but I listened.

When my mom and I went to Ireland again on our own in 2000, I had a much different experience. The lush green land of my Irish ancestors sent me messages. It held miracles and mysteries for me and I followed each clue to unearth more stories and revelations there.

I found a curator in a small museum in Galway who told me how spirits traveled with people back to their Irish homeland. Dogs followed me everywhere on my walk around town. I had vivid dreams of places I should go while in the country. Ravens cawed at me while I walked, egging me on to the places I needed to explore. I followed them. I had a spiritual experience there that is very personal to me and will not describe here, but it changed my view of lands and people before my time.

Last night Mark told me about the Night Marchers who travel through the Pali, a steep cliffed area that runs through the Ko'olau mountains. The Night Marchers are said to be spirits of warriors marching to reclaim lost battles. They don't like Haoles, who are seen as foreigners. I was spooked enough to promise myself I would respect the land as much as I humanly could.

Today we drove to Target, in search of a bedspread and trash can. How mundane.

We stopped for gas and as Mark filled the tank, I saw the brilliant colors of a rainbow behind a tree and over the roof of a Zippy's restaurant. We took off in search of the rainbow.

The rainbow kept urging us closer and closer to the Pali. There may be Night Marchers there, but the beauty in the rainbows can't be beat. The photos don't come out nearly as bright as in real life. We stopped and took it all in. A double rainbow emerged then. A moment in awe of nature and the beauty of the Pali. We drove over it and enjoyed the colors, the beauty and the jagged, textured cliffs.

My Irish ancestors are guiding me in this lush spiritual land as well.

Manapua Delivered

Mid-day Thursday we waited for some furniture to be delivered. When a hotel here remodels its rooms, a local company takes the furniture and resells it to the public for way less than buying new furniture. They were coming to deliver our desk, chair and ottoman between noon and 1:45.

When the delivery guy called to tell me he was on his way, the conversation sounded like this:

Delivery guy: "We come twel-fify. I go to manapua firs."
Me:(After thinking for second) "Twelve-fifty you'll be here. That's great."

I figured he was stopping at a place called Manapua for a delivery before he came to our place.

Delivery guy: "You want manapua? I bring you one."
Me: "What?"
Him: "Manapua"
Me: (yelling at Mark down the hall) "What's this guy saying?"
Delivery Man: "M-a-n-a-p-u-a"
Me: "I don't know what that is."
Delivery guy: "Lunch truck. You want me to bring from da lunch truck?"


Mark had to explain. Manapua is a local treat, most like the doughy Dim Sum dumplings found in San Francisco Chinatown restaurants. Hawaiian style, they are filled with pork or Portuguse Sausage and are often sold from lunch trucks.

The best photo I can find is from The Tasty Island food blog.

How nice are the people in Hawaii when the delivery guy not only brings you your furniture, but offers to bring you lunch as well?

Some days the Mainland seems so far away.

A Beautiful Stormy Day

We've been so busy trying to get moved in and settled, we haven't been to the beach yet. We remedied that yesterday by purchasing beach chairs and getting in the ocean.

Even on a stormy day, Hawaii is beautiful.

If you look hard, there's the start of a rainbow out on the water.