11.8.98
What I did on my Summer Vacation (Nov. 6-11, 1998)
It is a bit of a misnomer, given that we are quite safely ensconced in late autumn, and rapidly approaching winter. Less than 60 days remain in this year of grace (I know this because my employment requires me to write a date which is 56 days into the future. When I write this, that date is January 3, 1999)
Moloka'i was not a disappointment. In fact, it did satisfy each and every need that I had, and I actually came back from the trip feeling refreshed rather than tired (Ok, a little bit tired, from working my ass off) So, on my day of reprieve, Sunday, I am attempting to regain regularity (Odd water and strange food do create a certain disharmony in my fragile and delicate gastrointestinal tract...) while dealing with my so-called life.
On Friday, we made the trip off this island, and to the next, landing in Ho'olehua, Moloka'i in the early afternoon. My happy little group seemed to want to go to the hotel and crash, but I had other plans, so I dragged them off to go look at "stuff." We bombed back down the hill and got only slightly lost.
First stop, the overlook over Kalaupapa. There is a small peninsula that sticks out much like a dick into the Pacific. Its main claim to fame is that is was a dumping ground for those with leprosy (Hansen's Disease, or HD, ok?) It seemed that in the 'not so good' old days, if a member of your immediate family even LOOKED like he/she had HD, that person was immediately whisked off to a place called "Kalihi Hospital" (on Oahu) and then set on a boat for Kalaupapa. Generally, this entire process from being kidnapped to being placed in the strictest quarantine took only a few hours. Generally, the last image you have of that family member is being dragged kicking and screaming down the road. That's it. People don't come home from Kalaupapa. In fact, many people didn't even make it there. The ships didn't dock there, you were thrown overboard offshore. If you could swim well, you'd live. Old Hawaiians were very fond of that notion.
Lots of folks that actually didn't have HD were sentenced to Kalaupapa, only to be later infected by the residents there. The key player in the whole Kalaupapa story was a priest from Belgium, Fr. Damien. This fellow, devoted his entire life to the care and nurturing of the settlement, before finally succumbing to the dread disease late in the century. Little known factoid - every state has a statue of someone really important in the Capitol rotunda. Hawaii's contribution was a beautiful Fr. Damien, whose twin looks mauka (toward the mountain) up a grassy mall to an eternal "JFK flame."
Photos don't do it justice, you have to go and look for yourself. Sheer cliffs a thousand feet high completely separate this little phleb of land from the rest of the world. There's a very narrow mule trail that makes a frightening descent (there's also a nice airstrip for a twice daily shuttle) But, that's the only way to get there. You walk through a dense forest of ironwood trees, not even making a sound on the thick blanket of shed needles. It is very natural and quite organic. There are a few plaques that talk about the plight of those afflicted with HD and the miracle of sulfadone treatment, which has practically negated the necessity for facilities such as Kalaupapa and Leahi Hospital in Honolulu. btw, HD is still considered to be endemic here, but owing to the fact that it is a mycobacterium, it's really hard to catch.
Now, for something completely different...
After leaving the overlook, we hiked up another trail to an ancient Hawaiian fertility thingie, appropriately called "Phalic Rock (sic)." Everyone in my group of five was being prude and boring, so I took it upon myself to do what needed to be done. I climbed on the giant dick. I had my picture taken, and we went home. *sigh*
Driving back down the road to Maunaloa, there was an absolutely gorgeous sight. At the summit of this hill, you look down the road, and see a big dark shadow that is Oahu. However this was a "Kodak Moment" which didn't come out on film :-( It was in shades of grey, a big black blob being Mokapuu point, to the right of that, a lighter grey Kokohead, and even further away, a perfect silhouette of Diamond head floating in the ocean. Mighty damn pretty. I made everyone stop and get out of the car to look. (Yes, they really do think I'm insane, but that's part of the charm.) The remainder of the evening was spent sucking down an entire 6 pack of cheap beer, some expensive poki, and a laulau that somebody had made. (Its Hawaiian soul food.)
Boy, that's a lot about Moloka'i. If you want to hear more, you'll have to just tune in later. Now, this kid is off to three days of fun in the sun in Kona. Now, I'm going to go download the whole of someone's journal so that I can read it in its entirety. Try as I may, I just can't compare the feel of a printed page to a monitor screen. Its soo much more fun to phondle papier.
It is a bit of a misnomer, given that we are quite safely ensconced in late autumn, and rapidly approaching winter. Less than 60 days remain in this year of grace (I know this because my employment requires me to write a date which is 56 days into the future. When I write this, that date is January 3, 1999)
Moloka'i was not a disappointment. In fact, it did satisfy each and every need that I had, and I actually came back from the trip feeling refreshed rather than tired (Ok, a little bit tired, from working my ass off) So, on my day of reprieve, Sunday, I am attempting to regain regularity (Odd water and strange food do create a certain disharmony in my fragile and delicate gastrointestinal tract...) while dealing with my so-called life.
On Friday, we made the trip off this island, and to the next, landing in Ho'olehua, Moloka'i in the early afternoon. My happy little group seemed to want to go to the hotel and crash, but I had other plans, so I dragged them off to go look at "stuff." We bombed back down the hill and got only slightly lost.
First stop, the overlook over Kalaupapa. There is a small peninsula that sticks out much like a dick into the Pacific. Its main claim to fame is that is was a dumping ground for those with leprosy (Hansen's Disease, or HD, ok?) It seemed that in the 'not so good' old days, if a member of your immediate family even LOOKED like he/she had HD, that person was immediately whisked off to a place called "Kalihi Hospital" (on Oahu) and then set on a boat for Kalaupapa. Generally, this entire process from being kidnapped to being placed in the strictest quarantine took only a few hours. Generally, the last image you have of that family member is being dragged kicking and screaming down the road. That's it. People don't come home from Kalaupapa. In fact, many people didn't even make it there. The ships didn't dock there, you were thrown overboard offshore. If you could swim well, you'd live. Old Hawaiians were very fond of that notion.
Lots of folks that actually didn't have HD were sentenced to Kalaupapa, only to be later infected by the residents there. The key player in the whole Kalaupapa story was a priest from Belgium, Fr. Damien. This fellow, devoted his entire life to the care and nurturing of the settlement, before finally succumbing to the dread disease late in the century. Little known factoid - every state has a statue of someone really important in the Capitol rotunda. Hawaii's contribution was a beautiful Fr. Damien, whose twin looks mauka (toward the mountain) up a grassy mall to an eternal "JFK flame."
Photos don't do it justice, you have to go and look for yourself. Sheer cliffs a thousand feet high completely separate this little phleb of land from the rest of the world. There's a very narrow mule trail that makes a frightening descent (there's also a nice airstrip for a twice daily shuttle) But, that's the only way to get there. You walk through a dense forest of ironwood trees, not even making a sound on the thick blanket of shed needles. It is very natural and quite organic. There are a few plaques that talk about the plight of those afflicted with HD and the miracle of sulfadone treatment, which has practically negated the necessity for facilities such as Kalaupapa and Leahi Hospital in Honolulu. btw, HD is still considered to be endemic here, but owing to the fact that it is a mycobacterium, it's really hard to catch.
Now, for something completely different...
After leaving the overlook, we hiked up another trail to an ancient Hawaiian fertility thingie, appropriately called "Phalic Rock (sic)." Everyone in my group of five was being prude and boring, so I took it upon myself to do what needed to be done. I climbed on the giant dick. I had my picture taken, and we went home. *sigh*
Driving back down the road to Maunaloa, there was an absolutely gorgeous sight. At the summit of this hill, you look down the road, and see a big dark shadow that is Oahu. However this was a "Kodak Moment" which didn't come out on film :-( It was in shades of grey, a big black blob being Mokapuu point, to the right of that, a lighter grey Kokohead, and even further away, a perfect silhouette of Diamond head floating in the ocean. Mighty damn pretty. I made everyone stop and get out of the car to look. (Yes, they really do think I'm insane, but that's part of the charm.) The remainder of the evening was spent sucking down an entire 6 pack of cheap beer, some expensive poki, and a laulau that somebody had made. (Its Hawaiian soul food.)
Boy, that's a lot about Moloka'i. If you want to hear more, you'll have to just tune in later. Now, this kid is off to three days of fun in the sun in Kona. Now, I'm going to go download the whole of someone's journal so that I can read it in its entirety. Try as I may, I just can't compare the feel of a printed page to a monitor screen. Its soo much more fun to phondle papier.
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