Traveling light with only my rucksack I’m past customs, out the door and up to the bus stop minutes after my plane lands. Soon the city bus is taking me through Honolulu and into Waikiki. For three bucks this beats Uber or the hassle of renting a car. But what to do until 3pm, when my room is available? Well, it’s Sunday so maybe I’ll go to a church service. That’s a guaranteed way to meet friendly people. And instead of risking freaking people out as I walk up to random sunbathers at the beach, at a church the congregants approach you; most half-empty churches are happy to see new faces- (of course there is no attendance problem at the mega-hallelujah rock-band and Mormon churches); Must find a church in Honolulu, not Waikiki, though. I have nothing against tourists but I want to meet some locals. So I ditch my bag and winter coat at The Royal Grove and get back on the bus into Honolulu. Using maps I search around and most churches have already had service- they start early here in Hawaii. But there’s this Japanese church that has an English service at 9 and a Japanese at 11. And the building sounds cool- a replica of the Kochi Castle in Shikoku, Japan. I get off the bus at the Ala Moana shopping center and hoof it about a mile, then spot the place easily.
I looked inside the sanctuary and looked for a spot in back. A nice lady jumped out of her seat and came into the foyer. “The service is in Japanese!”
-(in Japanese) Well, I can speak Japanese.
-Oh wow. Your Japanese is good.
-But my kanji level is poor.
-Oh, that's OK. Kanji is hard!
I’ve had that mini conversation right there about a million times. If only I’d get my level to moderately fluent rather than conversant, then there’d be no cliche intro pleasantries and we’d get straight to the point.
-There are some seats right up front if you like.
-No thanks, I’ll just take a seat toward the rear.
About five minutes later she came to my pew with a headset which you could use to hear a lady translating the pastor. It all felt like a pretty typical Protestant service. Later I met the pastor and learned he’d graduated from the Dallas Theological Seminary. I didn’t feel out of place as there were a couple white guys with their Japanese wives and a black dude behind me. After the song the pastor took the guest card I’d signed and announced there was an American guy here who lives in Hamamatsu. He waited for me to stand so I did so and said hello. The whole congregation seemed real welcoming.
After the service there was lunch. Two ladies came and gave me a lunch ticket. Meat loaf today. Spongeway strikes again! In the cafeteria I met a bunch more people and had a nice conversation with the ladies at my table. The subject of Okinawa came up. "I said, “Oh, I have a friend back in Montana who is half Okinawan. I was at the Honolulu airport last year and I heard his name called, same first and last name but it wasn’t him.” I told them the name and the lady to my right said, “Oh yeah, that’s a common name in Hawaii and Okinawa. I know a couple here myself.”
They wanted me to do a self-introduction and handed me a mic. The black dude at the other table had just given his and it went on and on. I had done that once long ago in Japan at a social event and learned right away from the windsurfing-club attendees that you’re not expected to give your life history; just stand up and say “Good Evening. My name is Daniel Shumway. It’s nice to meet you all,” and that will do- everyone just wants to start eating anyway. And so after the black dude, that’s about all I said. But they sat there and waited for more. “Tell us about coming to Hawaii and your family and how you first went to Japan and stuff.”
The Japanese in Hawaii are certainly different from the by-the-book, no-nonsense Japanese of back home, especially the straight-laced Tokyoites.
As I was leaving a lady came up to thank me for coming and she gave me a little bag of cookies for the road. All in all it was a pleasant experience at the Makiki Christian Church of Honolulu.
I checked my map and headed in the direction of the University. I passed an old, wood and metal-siding Saturday church:
then this big stone church that looked straight out of colonial New England.
-Hey Shumway, what’s with all these churches? You trying to be Mr. Pious or something? What are you gonna do next to “sound your trumpet”, hand out alms at Waikiki Beach?
-Dewd, take it easy. I’m just showing you the local sites on my walk and I came upon these churches. America is chock full of them. You want a hula show and tiki torches- go watch the Brady Bunch Hawaii episode why don’t you.
Neighborhood scene: facing Waikiki and Diamond Head. The houses are middle-class American suburbia, but the cars say it costs big bucks to live here (then again, living in mainland, middle-class suburbia aint exactly cheap).
University of Hawaii at Manoa.
Ala Wai Canal:
Near the Ala Wai canal there is a budget public golf course. I’ll never forget it because I almost killed an old lady there back when I was in junior high school on a family vacation. I was late getting to the first fairway with my rented clubs and my brother and cousin had already teed off and were walking down the fairway, just out of driving range. I set up quick and thwack, hurriedly got my first stroke off. Immediately the Japanese tourist foursome behind me started gesticulating and yelling. I meant to arc it but instead sent a line drive straight ahead and just inches from the solo lady golfer who’d slipped in between my brother and cousin and me to tee off at the ladies position. She wasn’t too happy. I apologized profusely and she was very forgiving. I’m pretty sure she even joined us to make a foursome and chatted us up along the way.
After a lot of walking I finally made it to my funky little hotel two blocks away from the beach. Time for a swim! I left the key at the counter and didn’t even take a towel- just my surf trunks and some swim goggles. My brother has a friend who refuses to go to Hawaii. He’s got enough dough to afford a beachside hotel room with complimentary Evian in the fridge and Diamond Head view, but he refuses to go anywhere in Hawaii because he only imagines Waikiki and he thinks it’s a big, crowded tourist trap. It is! But it is for a reason- it’s wonderful! The waves are gentle; the beach sand soft and thick, the water beautiful, the views are amazing; and as for the throngs of tourists- I don’t know but being around super-happy people is kind of nice. Everybody seems to have forgotten their woes and is just having a great time. Even this beach security guy whose job doesn’t seem very interesting had a big smile. He saw me walk by with my unintended RBF (it’s just a serious expression that you wear naturally sometime or all the time when you’re not with anyone- sorry, Resting B**ch Face is what they call it) and he says, “How ya doin’ sir?!
-good
-All right. That’s what I like to hear! You have a great day!
That from a security dude. He wasn’t selling time shares or anything!
I saw
people from everywhere on the planet it seemed.
snorkelers, surfers, swimmers, shallow-zone waders, lazy sunbathers, children playing, the skinny, fat, and muscle bound, young couples in love (esp. Asian honeymooners I assume), young people looking cool, swimsuits that showed a bit too much, etc.
a group of big fat black ladies with tropical drinks in their hands snapping selfies and groovin’ to a rock band playing at one of the hotels, laughing it up.
two muscular, classy looking French guys with $100+ haircuts whom I would have pegged as gay until I identified them as French.
partyers heading out on the catamarans for the sunset sailing cruise.
a Japanese couple who had gotten in too deep. She wasn’t in swimming shape and got tired. He was having a hard time keeping her afloat. A not fat but big, muscly, island-girl lifeguard spotted the problem quick and ran down the beach with her rescue surfboard, cutting through the crowd Baywatch style and paddled out to Shizuka and Kenji. Kenji was a bit embarrassed by the affair but Shizuka was happy for the rescue and free ride back to the beach. I hope it doesn’t cast a pall upon the honeymoon and they’ll laugh about it tonight over wagyu steaks and piña coladas at the Outrigger.
A rainbow that went full arc from behind the roof of the Royal Hawaiian all the way to Diamond Head.
a towhead fifth-grader kid throwing a football in the waist-deep water with his mom. “Throw a spiral, mom!” She looked at me and I smiled and said, “He’s asking you to throw a spiral!” She attempted it but it was a pretty wobbly throw that landed well short of Timmy. Then he threw it to me. My chance to shine! Shumway the all-American father. My throw was pretty wobbly and landed well short of Timmy. He looked at me with an expression that said, “Wanna try again?” but I looked over at mom and didn’t want to seem like some lonely freak looking for company (or potential step father for Timmy, heh) so I moved on.
a pretty black/hispanic looking girl on the end of the jetty watching the sunset and occasionally giving me the eye (right- keep foolin’ yourself, Shumway)
a Japanese mom with her adorable two-year old son. “Mikio, look at the rainbow! Look at the beautiful rainbow! わあ、とても美しいだ！(waa, totemo utsukushii-da! Wow, so gorgeous!). She had a smart phone and was taking selfies with Mikio. I thought about offering to take their picture but then overthought it and imagined her thinking I was a barbarian thief who would make off with the iphone. Anyway the selfie will turn out nice.
A small but almost surfable wave came in and I tried to bodysurf it. With experience, you can easily ride a sizeable wave but for the small, weak ones you have to be positioned just right and have really good technique. I waited for the right moment and in a quick burst of energy paddled and kicked hard. Then my calf seized up and I had a painful cramp, heh. I could touch bottom but as an experiment I tread water to make sure I could survive a cramp in the deep sea. That idea distracted me a bit and the pain wasn’t so bad- but it did last a good minute at least. On that note I swam back to the starting point and walked back to the hotel. There was a girl carrying a huge rental surfboard and having a time with it as she couldn’t get her arm around the middle section so I carried the tail end and she the front and we dropped it off at the surf shop together. Then I had a bunch of German teenagers walking next to me. I thought about trying a little German on them and the standard where are you from stuff but they were having a great time already like everyone else so I left them alone.
Had to get up at 5 the next morning to get the city bus to the airport. The driver was a bit crabby but he couldn’t dampen my joy of having a good 23-hour layover in beautiful, touristy Hawaii.
OK, I stretched the truth a bit with the throw back to Timmy. It was wobbly but landed right in his hands- even some of the top NFL quarterbacks throw wobblers.
Hi DW.
Your post brought back some memories of younger days. I was once in Honolulu during a layover and was shown around by a former Japanese student. I remember sitting in the passenger seat as she drove me to her favorite eateries and must-see spots.
My senses were overwhelmed by the luxurious exotica, and as I observed the marinas and tackle shops we passed by, I imagined the routines of the local fishermen. But I also felt a bit lonely, a drab fish out of water never able to shake the feeling that I was just an observer passing through, and neither did I feel completely at home back in Japan or even on the U.S. mainland.
I took another trip with Japanese colleagues for an academic presentation. Though still exotic, it had a darker hue; chagrined at my naivety in imagining it would be more than a yearly junket for those with the money. Even my colleagues were more excited about their shopping spree. Felt a bit like a younger Bill Murray's 'Lost in Translation', with a pineapple twist.
Tokyo's a bit cold today.
Gotta get a move on.
Cheers, and thanks for sharing memories of a Hawaii I should have enjoyed more.