i wish i were a poet

this is the title of an art installation at the johnson museum that i saw last weekend. to be perfectly honest, the art didn’t do much for me; but this poem really did:

Untitled (where each new sunrise promises only the continuation of yesterday).

Untitled (where the wind carries from afar all but that for which one yearns).

Untitled (where transcendence appears as a drone sent by men with thick torsos).

Untitled (where too much significance is attached to the debris of one airplane).

Untitled (where angry men search the wreckage for pieces of a pilot).

Untitled (where one is hunted in proportion to one’s remoteness).

Untitled (where the value of life contracts as the value of the territory expands).

Untitled (where one walks tall, but with each step feels the onset of a stagger).

Untitled (where one stares forward with eyes that no longer focus on the horizon).

Untitled (where one waves one’s stick toward the notion of an object).

Untitled (where one sees the object only when its presence blocks all view of the horizon).

Untitled (where one tires of the same sentence expressed in its endless variations).

Untitled (where one exhausts oneself with the same idea said a thousand ways).

Untitled (where one aims words at the sky only to afterward kick through their debris).

Untitled (where the horizon feels like walls that collapse slowly toward one).

Untitled (where the daily repetition of one’s motions defeats even the thought of escape).

Untitled (where one believes in a silence that one cannot help but articulate).

Untitled (where one lives for the poetry for which there is no longer vocabulary).

Untitled (where one tries to imagine the last words to be said).

Untitled (where truth reveals itself in its seeming disfigurement).

Untitled (where hiding places are many, escape only one).

-Michael Ashkin, 2009

my time on maui: day 6

sunday, january 17; hana, maui

we’re up early again today. not as early as previous mornings, but still, anytime before 10 am is early for this girl, especially considering i’m supposed to be on vacation! today we are caving and doing one of the touristier (that’s not really a word, is it?) things on maui: driving to hana. hana itself, a small, secluded, sacred area of the island, is not at all the point of the trip; the drive to hana is. the road is famously windy, with over 600 curves and 50+ bridges in approximately 50 miles. what with claire’s warnings about car sickness and the t-shirts i saw in crazy shirts last night  boasting “i survived the road to hana,” i’m understandably a bit hesitant about this trip. maysie (claire’s mom) on the other hand, is treating this trip like an excellent adventure, packing a bag full of snacks and checking off a list of essential supplies including bugspray, water bottles, and toilet paper. i’m beginning to wonder what sort of place we’re going to (are there really no bathrooms or sources of drinkable water in this town!?). suspending my doubt, i pop a dramamine pill and by 9 we’re on the road. our first stop is at a cute, super-air-conditioned natural foods store in the town of pa’ia to buy sandwiches for lunch. claire and her mom pick out overstuffed wraps, but i get sidetracked by a spanikopita roll and against my better judgment decide that it will be fine in the car in the sun for three hours. on to hana!

only a few minutes onto the hana highway i can tell that we have crossed over an invisible climate line – from the arid, semi-tropical air of pa’ia, we have entered into an honest-to-goodness rainforest. apparently the rainforest in hawaii is unlike the rainforest as we are taught about them in school, though. whereas rainforests in central america, etc have dense upper canopies that shade the ground and prevent most plants from growing there, hawaii’s rainforest is exactly the opposite – lots of low-to-the-ground foliage and plants, not a lot of tall trees. we pass through dense bamboo thickets, glens full of ferns, and tunnels of guava trees with various kinds of leafy vines dangling in front of the car. i feel a little bit as though i’ve been dropped in the middle of fern gully. as we go, the view on the lefthand side of the car gets more spectacular: the highway seems to be hugging the cliffs along the side of the island. to the left is the pacific ocean and to the right is rainforest, occasionally punctuated by ravines with little waterfalls snaking through them. after the third or fourth bridge over a ravine like this i stop counting. at several points i really want to get out of the car and take pictures, but claire is driving and we are running behind schedule, so i keep my mouth shut. she seems to be making this into a destination trip as opposed to a “smell-the-roses” sort of excursion, but i’m warm and comfy in the passenger seat and don’t feel like complaining. i wonder idly if the dramamine is responsible for my semi-stupor; the vibe in the car is really quite comical, when i think about it. claire is zooming around the curves in a way only a native could (or would) do, swearing and tailgating slow-moving tourist cars blocking the one-lane road, while i sit sleepily beside her and her mom chatters away in the backseat about the landscape and the history of this or that bridge.

the drive that is supposed to take over three hours passes in about two and we arrive in hana (with none of our snacks eaten) to a steely gray sky accompanied by a brisk wind and scattered sprinkles. determined not to let the weather get the best of us, we stop at the harborfront in hana – where the wind is even stronger – and set out our picnic on one of the public tables dotting the shore. the spanikopita that i was so looking forward to has gotten soggy and cold, but i pretend to enjoy it since claire’s mom bought lunch. the food is unremarkable, but that’s okay because the view is great and while we sit the weather shifts and the sun peeks out. a pleasant hour passes with claire’s mom telling us the story of how she met and started seeing claire’s dad and i’m surprised to see from claire’s face that this is not the version of the story she knew from childhood. as we listen i let my mind wander forward to a time when we’ll be telling our courting story to some younger people (nieces and nephews?), and the thought makes me unaccountably happy.

the picnic is followed by a trip to the only store in town, a tiny general store with one small freezer case of ice cream in the back. we end up buying ordinary ben and jerry’s ice cream bars, but as we stand outside eating them in the sun and dropping chocolate pieces all over the asphalt parking lot i swear i’ve never tasted anything better.

since we made the trip, it only seems right to check out whatever there might be to see in hana, so with hands still sticky from the ice cream, we drive along what seems to be the only road in the whole town and end up at a beautiful but very windy beach. i snap a few pictures while claire and her mom pick up trash on the beach and every now and then maysie comes over with a piece of a crab shell or a kukui nut for me. by the time we leave my pockets are full of bits and pieces she has brought for me and remembering claire’s warning that hana is a sacred place from which you aren’t supposed to take anything i surreptitiously empty my pockets before climbing back into the car.

on the way out of town we make one last stop at waianapanapa state park, home of the famed black sand beaches. i had all sorts of preconceived notions about sharp volcanic rocks and baking heat from the sun reflecting off of the black sand, none of which turned out to be true. waianapanapa is a beautiful place, set on a bluff overlooking the pacific, from the parking lot we can see the whole coast of hana spread out below us in a beautiful black and turquoise arc. the path through the park is lined with ti leaf plants, and the air is laden with the fragrance of blooming, growing things. the slanting afternoon light warms my skin but not too much. we make our way down the path to the beach and the beauty of the place takes my breath away. the smooth black rocks are warm and comfortable beneath my bare feet and as each wave is pulled back out into the sea the rocks click together in a waterfall of soothing sound. maysie picks up a couple of flatter rocks and shows me how in traditional hula dance they click these rocks together in time with the music. the longer i spend here the more i wish i had some deeper cultural heritage to share and take pride in and i find myself feeling jealous of claire’s ethnic background. i’m sure she would laugh to know that i feel this way.

we linger on the beach for a long time and finish our visit with a trip along the path through the forest to the famous grotto where a hawaiian princess once hid from her murderous tribal chief. the water in the pool is clear and cold as ice, and i think of fern gully again when maysie explains that there is a hidden cave that you can get to by ducking underwater and swimming blindly through the dark until you find the opening. fascinating, but no, thank you. no blind swimming for me.

on the way back to the car i see what i think is a squirrel and point it out to claire in surprise (aren’t squirrels a north american thing?) only to catch a better glimpse and see that the body is altogether too long, the snout is too pointy and the tail is somehow wrong. distressed by the weirdness of the not-squirrel, i am relieved to learn that it is a mongoose, a species which is not native to hawaii but was introduced by settlers in an attempt to curb the rat population (rats which were, of course, brought over on ships from europe and are also not native). the mongooses (mongeese?) didn’t take care of the rats, and now the islands have problems with both rats and mongeese. smart.

since we are in less of a hurry on the way back, i am determined to insist on stopping and taking a few pictures of the scenery, but only a few minutes out of hana the drowsy part of the dramamine kicks in with a vengeance and i sleep all the way back, only waking up when we stop at a beautiful overlook just outside of pa’ia to watch the waves crashing in to shore. i’ve never seen waves this big and am totally mesmerized by the enormity and inevitability of the patterns of the ocean. i can’t even begin to imagine how people get up the guts to surf. thrill issues? death wish? invincibility complex?

as soon as we arrive home, maysie begins preparing another veritable feast (this one much more to my taste). claire and i stand on the flat roof of the house and watch the sun sink below the rim of the ocean while her father blows into a giant conch shell. it is yet another moment when i am acutely aware of how fortunate i am to be welcomed into this family. the feeling is only heightened when we go downstairs to a dinner of coconut-crusted salmon (now i know where claire got that from) and the sweet potato from the night before that has been mashed with orange juice and coconut syrup. yum, yum, yum. we hit the sack shortly after dinner and i realize with a pang that time is passing far too quickly. only three days left in paradise…

my time on maui: day 5

saturday, january 16; kihei, maui

7:30 rolls around far too early, and what had seemed like fun in theory is starting to sound a little scary. you see, today claire and i will be taking cathy and alex’s sea kayaks out for a spin. i’ve been ocean kayaking one whole time, about 10 years ago, with someone much more experienced in a two-person kayak. i think i can safely say that that experience has no useful bearing on the one i will have today. since then, i have also developed a bit of a phobia of deep water, especially the ocean. so we’ll say i am a bit apprehensive as we help cathy unload the kayaks, assemble the paddles and generally prepare things. she gives us a demo on paddling and we spend a long time looking at the surf (it seems so high to me. can we really get out if it’s that high? is this safe? aah!), counting the waves. supposedly waves come in groups of seven, i.e. every seventh wave is a whopper. we count for what seems like ages and i can’t seem to get this pattern straight, which leads me to the irrational fear that i will go out at the wrong moment and be totally capsized by a giant wave. my fears are only magnified when cathy explains that we have to run for all we’re worth into the surf then leap onto the kayak (without tipping it over!) and paddle like we’re on fire till we get out beyond the breakers. this sounds almost impossible to me and as i’m watching the waves crashing on the sand i nearly chicken out at least a dozen times. then suddenly claire is running toward the water with cathy pushing the kayak and then she’s on the kayak and what seems like mere seconds later she is out beyond the waves and it all looks far too easy. i must look a bit green because cathy assures me that it will be just as easy for me and that we can wait as long as i want to get the timing just right. it feels like only a second later, but i see an opening – completely calm seas – and then cathy and i are booking it into the water, splashing everywhere until i am up to my knees. at cathy’s signal i hurl myself onto the kayak, slipping around until i’m generally in the right position then fumbling to get hold of the paddle which is dragging behind me by its tether. with cathy shouting in my ear i start paddling with all i’ve got, but the kayak doesn’t want to go straight into the waves and claire seems so far off in the distance. what felt like only a few seconds when i watched her do it seems to stretch into hours as i fight my way out beyond the swells and by the time i reach claire i am panting and my shoulders are burning with the exertion. i’m feeling pretty shaky at this point and i’m still terrified that a rogue wave is going to come along and knock me out of my kayak. she tells me how proud she is while i sit and catch my breath, feeling foolish. when i’ve had time to calm down a bit, i see that it is remarkably calm out here, the water is impossibly clear and tourquoise, and the view is unbelievable. i can see the whole shoreline of this side of maui, as well as lana’i, molokini, and ka’oholawe spread out around us. we make a slow, leisurely track out around the nearby peninsula, and i feel as though i could stay out here forever. the shore that we pass along is steep and rocky and there doesn’t seem to be any access from the island itself; it is amazingly cool to know that we are seeing beaches and caves that are untouched by the influence of people. on the way back, i spot a rock that seems to be very close beneath my kayak and experience a small moment of panic before realizing that the “rock” is in fact a giant sea turtle cruising along below us. as we go, it gets closer and closer to the surface until it breaks the water just in front of the kayaks, takes a breath of air, and descends again. a few moments later a flying fish zips across our line of view right in front of the kayaks and i feel blessed to be in this beautiful place and able to see such extraordinary things.

the return journey is rougher; the wind has picked up, ruffling the waves and creating enough resistance that i know my muscles will be sore tomorrow. nevertheless, we make it in uneventfully, and return to wailea for lunch. perhaps the early morning sun has exhausted us more than we anticipated, because after lunch the three of us (cathy, claire and i) all crash for almost two hours. we finally drag ourselves from our siesta to go to another beach for the rest of the afternoon. on the way, we stop for a snack and i am exposed for the first time to something i really wish we had in ithaca: shave ice. it’s like a slushy but so very much better. for one thing, the ice still has enough of it’s shape to be edible with a spoon. for another, the flavor choices are truly amazing – passion fruit, root beer, guava, dreamsicle, you name it. as if that weren’t enough, you can also get all sorts of toppings like caramel or haupia (coconut cream) or bottoms like gummy bears or ice cream. and the sizes are ENORMOUS. the small is the size of a softball, the medium a whiffle ball. i get half pineapple, half passion fruit with gummy bears on the bottom and don’t take nearly enough insulin.

the beach is uneventful. the water is the warmest i’ve ever felt for an ocean, and the sand on the bottom is unbroken by shells or rocks. it makes for a lovely swimming experience and i ruefully wish i had more time to spend in the water here. when you dive down and hold your breath you can hear the whales talking to each other and suddenly i feel like watching finding nemo.

in the evening, claire and i drive into kihei to take care of some tourist-y shopping. i have gifts to buy and souvenirs for myself to select. our first stop is a palatial store called hilo hatties where they greet you with an “aloha” and a lei at the door and there is a “treasure chest” from which you can select an oyster which they will open to see if you got a pearl. it is all kitsch, but also some class, and they have absolutely everything a tourist here could ever want to buy. from aloha print clothing, to jewelry made of wood and shells to foods of all kinds (mac nuts, coffee, lilikoi butter), to tacky dashboard ornaments and keychains, they have the tourist shopping experience covered. we spend almost an hour looking at everything, trying to decide on gifts for friends and roommates. the next stop is crazy shirts (which is next door) to buy something to wear that says “hawaii” on it. for those who are unaware, this store is where the wealthy tourists buy t-shirts. they sell $35 pima cotton shirts dyed with real maui red dirt, or pineapple juice, etc. i end up choosing a grey sweatshirt with a tribal design of a manta ray on it and “maui dive co.” on the sleeve and a blue t-shirt with a gorgeous tribal floral design and the word “hawaii” worked into it. neither of these has been dyed with any special substance but i’m perfectly okay with that. my job as a tourist here is now complete.