Mele Kalikimaka

Our bellies were still full of Christmas cookies. The smell of Christmas feasting lingered with the bits of wrapping paper trapped in our living room carpet. The Christmas holidays had scarcely passed, but we were ready for new adventures. This would be our biggest trip yet. Hawaii, here we come!

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Featured photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/RSvKsntM8ZY75XBf9

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December 27th, 2023 - Hawaii Day 1

I passed Tyler the bag of croissant-wrapped hotdogs. Boy, was I glad I had brought the pigs-in-a-blanket with us! The Christmas leftovers would have gone bad in the fridge, so I’d shoved the miniature hotdogs in my backpack on an early morning whim. Now, after nearly 13 hours of airport and airplane time, we were grateful to have some real food. 

The ocean was shimmering turquoise beneath us. Up ahead, the green rim of Maui was growing bigger by the minute. It was so green! We had left behind a brown, wintry Ohio when we first boarded the plane. As we landed in Phoenix and headed for Hawaii, we shed layers of clothing until we were left in T-shirts and shorts. It was fortunate that we did so because Hawaii was HOT! The rich, humid air was evident as soon as we stepped off the plane. My Ohio-adapted body was very confused. Warm air in December? What was this?

The Kahului airport was charming and welcoming. Christmas trees stood in the central lobby, surrounded by Hawaiian floral decor and travelers in shorts. One side of the airport was under construction, which was explained to us in English and Japanese by a bright yellow sign. In case a traveler couldn’t read either language, there was also a cartoon drawing of a Hawaiian man wearing a lei and tool belt. I was amused by the cartoon, but Tyler was more interested in the menu board of an airport restaurant. They were selling cheeseburgers for $15! We were very glad to have had our miniature hotdogs on the airplane after seeing that! 

As soon as we got our rental car, we were off on an adventure. This first stop was educational in nature. Maui’s USDA Farm Service Agency happened to be just down the road from the airport. Since it was a Wednesday, we knew they’d be open and, well, one of Ohio’s County Executive Directors wanted to meet one of Hawaii’s. In we marched! James, the CED, was very welcoming to Tyler and myself. He was a little surprised that his office was our first destination. “Most people go to Costco after they get out of the airport!” he chuckled. 

Nonetheless, James was very kind. He and Tyler spoke at length about the agriculture on the islands, common problems, and so on. Maui’s FSA office actually services three islands: Maui, Molokai, and Lanai. Any USDA business or farm visits automatically require a plane or boat ride to the other islands. Naturally, Hawaii’s crops vary greatly from the corn and soybeans that saturate Ohio. Island farmers specialize in limes, onions, oranges, coffee, and pineapples. On the island of Maui, the produce was historically sugarcane. James’ family, for example, worked on sugar plantations when he was a child. Within the last ten years, however, sugarcane disappeared entirely from Maui. According to James, sugarcane is no longer produced in Hawaii at all. The canefields have been replaced with houses and citrus orchards, but the remnants still remain. Outside the window of the USDA office, a lonely sugarmill stands empty. It is a testament to ever-changing times.

Unlike Ohio, you won’t see much cattle on the islands. Livestock is a rarity because importing animal feed is too expensive. In fact, it is cheaper to import live cattle from California than it is to raise cattle on the island. The few ranchers on Maui have feedlots in California, where the cattle are fed and then shipped over to be butchered on the island. It was all extremely fascinating.

James may have thought it strange, but I was grateful we chose the USDA as our first stop. It was an honest look at island life. It removed the tropical paradise illusion that we had accidentally adopted. Maui may be a vacation destination for some, but it’s also home for many others. A home where, just like Ohio, people have challenges to be overcome. 

With our minds full of new knowledge, we ventured forth. We found ourselves drifting towards the ocean. After flying over it for so many hours, we wanted to go see it from solid ground. What a sight it was! Maui had a storm a day or so prior, and the waves were massive because of it. Some said that the waves were 30-40 feet tall! They were aqueous beasts, frothing as they rose to towering heights and crashed ferociously into the shore. Every wave was a clear, brilliant blue, brighter than any ocean we’d ever seen. The water was mesmerizing. It tempted us to stretch out our post-flight muscle kinks with a shoreside stroll. But alas, we had places to be. On the road again! 

Our destination was Hana, a small town in the remote reaches of Maui. There’s only one road to Hana, and it happens to be the infamous Highway to Hana. We weren’t sure why it was infamous until we started driving it. It’s tiny! The Highway is anything but a highway. It’s a narrow, sometimes-paved strip of road that winds around the eastern perimeter of Maui. It is also extremely twisty and mostly single lane. In other words, it’s a great way to get your heartrate up! The Highway is also very beautiful. Waterfalls splash down thickly-vegetated mountainsides. Jungle vines swoop low overhead. The occasional ocean vista affords views of the brilliant waves and hidden beaches. The Highway to Hana is an experience within itself.

About an hour into the drive, we stopped to stretch our legs at the Ke’anae Arboretum. If we hadn’t yet figured out that we were in a jungle, the arboretum settled any confusion. Pothos and monstera vines climbed over every surface, sending massive, vibrant leaves up towards the sun. Banana trees concealed tiny fruits under their umbrella fronds. Rainbow eucalyptus trees stood tall above the undergrowth, sporting diverse colors in their smooth bark. Somewhere in the jungle, a creek gurgled. Exotic birds sang overhead. It was unlike any place we’d ever been, and I loved it. 

By the time we braved the highway all the way to Hana, it was dark. It was darker than dark, the sort of darkness unique to regions with no light pollution. It was so dark that we nearly hit a cow. I’m not sure where the cow came from, but it emerged from the depths of the nighttime jungle, big eyes staring through our windshield as we twisted around a curve. We slammed on our brakes. Balefully, the cow blinked in our headlights. We said all the appropriate things for the situation, then carefully manuvered around the confused cow. It stood there, unmoving. For all we know, the cow is still there, rooted on the side of the Highway to Hana. 

Hana is a very small town with only a few restaurants. These few restaurants were all closed by the time we made it there. Our stomachs grumbled as we drove slowly through the darkness, peering hopefully at gloomy storefronts. Finally, a distant light drew us in. In a small parking lot, three or four food trucks were illuminated like suppertime beacons in the dark night. They were getting ready to close up shop for the evening. Hurriedly disembarking, we jumped into line and ordered whatever they still had on the menu. I ended up with a big styrofoam container of chicken pad thai. Maybe it was the carsickness, but it was the best dang pad thai I’ve ever had! 

We ate supper around a cluster of picnic tables. Our tablemates were Swiss railway engineers, who were visiting Hawaii with a month of paid vacation time that they were allotted by Switzerland. When we exclaimed at their good fortune to have such a long holiday, they informed us that four weeks is the bare minimum in Switzerland. They, for example, were in the habit of taking nine or ten weeks of holiday a year because their company was extremely flexible. I was so shocked that I had to remind myself not to gape. My American work-centric mind could hardly fathom such long vacations. What a different world than ours! 

Our night ended at a strange airbnb. It was tucked away behind a residential house in the nighttime streets of Hana. It was raining and very dark. When we first arrived, we were unsure if we were in the right place. There were cars parked in front of the house. A dog barked. From the road, we couldn’t see our Airbnb. Were we sitting in front of a stranger’s home? Do Hawaiians have guns? We called the host, who seemed annoyed that we bothered her. She did confirm that we were in the right location, so we pulled up the driveway like we owned the joint. The kitchen light flickered ominously when we entered the airbnb. It gave off the welcoming aura of a murder house. There were multiple side doors in the house, all of which were unlocked. Had we not noticed, any cow, dog, or vagrant would have had perfect access into one of the bedrooms. We locked the doors and quickly decided we wouldn’t be sleeping in that bedroom. We settled on the bedroom closest to the kitchen instead. Weirdly enough, there was a window above our bed that provided a perfect view of the rusted refrigerator and the “out of order” sign on the kitchen stove. It was one of the most bizarre Airbnb experiences we’ve ever had. Nonetheless, it was a place to lay our heads. At 8 PM (2 AM Ohio time!), we settled in and were quickly asleep. It was a busy day. 

Places of interest:

Ho’okipa Lookout

Ke’anae Arboretum 

Ae’s Thai Kitchen (the food truck with the best pad thai ever!)