Aloha and Mahalo

Tomorrow we are getting more snow.  So while I fantasize about 2-hour delays, I'll spend a moment reliving our amazing winter vacation. Hawaii.  The fiftieth state.  The place Michael was born and spent part of his childhood.  The nearly 6,000 mile away home of my irreplaceable friend Rachel.  We went for Christmas, returned on New Year's and avoided the supposedly 6th worst snowstorm in New York City history.  Clouds plagued a few of our days, but that certainly did not hinder us from our adventures.  When we arrived in Honolulu, we were greeted by Mike's parents and grandparents, who promptly adorned us with orchid leis.  We managed to stay up late to have dinner but, being five hours ahead on NY time, I was practically falling asleep at the table.

We spent Christmas eve on Waikiki beach with Mike's family.  It was a bright and beautiful day and the beach was lovely.  The next morning, we saw and hugged Rachel for the first time in many months, and had a delicious Christmas brunch at the hotel.  We also got to see Mary and visit a few beaches on the windward side of the island.  One of the most memorable highlights of the trip came the following day, when we drove to the North shore.  The drive to get anywhere in Hawaii is beautiful, full of ocean views and mountains that look like they belong in some fairytale or fantasy movie.  Our trip to the North shore had an important purpose.  We got into a boat, were taken four miles offshore, and got into the bluest water I've ever seen in person.  We were in a cage, in the middle of the ocean, and several dozen Galapagos sharks were swimming circles around us.  We spent about twenty minutes barely coming up for air and holding on tight to the cage to keep from jostling around in the current.  I have a thing for large predatory animals, so to get this close to them in their world (they were inches away and on all sides of us) was one of the coolest things I have ever done.  

The title of this post is dedicated to our MC at the Polynesian Cultural Center's Luau on December 27.  Rachel got us tickets and it was a really cool place to visit.  The Luau had really yummy food.  Our MC literally said "aloha and mahalo" after every single sentence.  Why are you thanking us for eating, I thought to myself.  But Hawaii is just different.  The highway signs say to "drive with aloha," as in the spirit of. (We literally heard car horns maybe three times all week).  Needless to say, Rachel and Mike did all the driving while we were there; the only spirit I drive with is usually unadulterated rage.

While in Oahu, Mike and I never made it to Pearl Harbor.  I've heard from everyone who's been that it's very moving.  I decided that I didn't want to be so moved on my vacation, and I also didn't want to have to get there at 7 in the morning and wait for several hours to go in.  We did hike diamond head crater, see humuhumunukunukuapua'as snorkeling at Hanauma Bay, and slurp shave ice. The week we spent there was warm and wonderful, and I was extremely reluctant to leave.  Rachel dropped us off at the airport at around 8pm on New Year's Eve, and I was not happy to walk away from the car and into the terminal.  As our plane left the ground the sky was a deep shade of purple, littered with the sight of exploding fireworks and the darkened silhouettes of palm trees.  I said goodbye to Hawaii as the fireworks and palm trees disappeared, but I desperately hope some day I will be going back. 

We were lucky to sleep on nearly the whole flight back, despite the moronic old couple that sat in front of us incessantly rocking their chairs while eating chips as loud as possible and being mean to flight attendants for nine straight hours.  Those idiots needed some more aloha, but I wasn't going to let them take mine.