Each time I leave Hawaii for the mainland, it gets harder for me. I am feeling the call to move to Hawaii.
Yesterday, I spent all morning, afternoon and night taking multiple flights to bring me from Hilo, Hawaii, to San Jose, CA. I am drained of energy. Though I love my family, and my friends here, I feel a heaviness in my heart at being away from my second home.
Because I formed a close bond with a woman in Pahoa named Caroline, and her son Enzo, while there, it was much more difficult to leave the island. She is one of those rare people, who though gentle and kind, has a wicked sense of humor. We laughed a lot together.
Her son is beautiful. He’s 5, and his face graces the ice-cream truck that his father John owns, and sells banana splits, smoothies, and more from. He is creative, smart as heck, and he likes me a lot. Which is important to me. Children know a lot. Yes, they are very innocent, and can be deceived, but often I find that they know peoples hearts.
Being outside so much, in the wild beauty of the Eastern side of the Big Island, feeds my spirit, and energizes me.
Pahoa, where I’ve now stayed for 2 months cumulatively, doesn’t look like much from the surface.
The downtown is run down. There are a number of homeless individuals on the main drag. Most people that frequent Pahoa, have bodies that are either partially or totally covered with tattoos. Drugs are a problem. The driving is atrocious, and unless you are going 15 miles over the speed limit, you are bound to be closely tailed!
Looks are often deceiving, and it’s no different in Pahoa.
After being in town enough to look familiar to locals, they’ve been quite friendly with me. The residents there tend to be down-to-earth, and openhearted. Artists, musicians, and iconoclasts abound. There are frequently interesting and inspiring events happening locally. Like the singing bowl sound healing session that Caroline and I attended, just before I left.
Large open-air markets occur with regularity in the area. Farmers sell their tropical, and incredibly odd-looking produce. Painters and photographers sell their creations. The Makuu market is filled with people selling crystals, handmade purses, and other sundries. Most importantly, the variety of food stands is huge. It’s key to be well-fed when you’re shopping.
I’m in Palo Alto at the moment, near Stanford University. I grew up here, but it feels so foreign to me. I’m staying with my parents for several days, in part to celebrate the Jewish High Holy Days. I’m drinking an iced mint mojito coffee. Amazing concoction. Fresh mint, cream, excellent coffee make a great libation. No alcohol, fortunately.
It feels weird being on a major street, in a cafe that is bustling with people. Someone just drove by, and honked their horn without lifting their hand, for 30 seconds straight. Too many people, with too much stress, and consequently a ton of pent up anger in addition to many other difficult emotions.
My thoughts drift back to Pahoa. I left only 3 days ago. But, it feels far away, fuzzy, distant. I wonder if It will become my first home, one day.