Tai Chi/Over the Rainbow Medley

Saturday morning has become a ritual. Head down to Hanalei Bay for Tai Chi on the beach with blue bay waters in the background, an ever-changing sky overhead and verdant mountain peeks with white waterfalls behind us. Today the displaced Hanalei Canoe Club is holding an event and sleek outrigger teams move steadily over calm waters.

Grand Master Skip Rush leads the Tai Chi session every Saturday morning, following which he and his lovely wife Donna head over to the nearby Farmers Market. I believe there is a local Farmers Market every day of the week somewhere on the island.

"Gotta support the farmers," a local man says "They've had it rough since the flooding." The taro patch in Hanalei became a lake for a while as the low-lying areas including homes, businesses and churches went underwater.

In his white martial arts garb, Skip presents the  timeless image of a sage, his body moving gracefully while capturing chi power from Earth and Sky. "Place your palm on your stomach with your thumb touching your navel," he tells our small group. "This is where your chi is stored."

Watching him and attempting to replicate his motions adds a fifth dimension to this picture. Is he levitating or am I? We are waving like windmills -- hands, hips and whatever else we can keep in motion. The oldest martial art, he says. The mysterious feigns and motions become scintillas, echoes of the past, present and future.

Surfers and morning beach-goers pass by with hardly a notice. We are part of the diverse landscape. Perhaps we are invisible.

My neighbor Rick and I attend Tai Chi together. It's the strangest thing. At one time, nearly 50 years ago, we worked at the same daily newspaper. Today we are neighbors.  During the in-between time we engaged in separate but not all-together different lives unknown to each other. His Santa Cruz days were prior to mine. His wonderful wife Marcie was also employed by that same newspaper at the same time.

We connected through a third party known by Rick and Marcie whom we met at a random open house. He thought Barbara and I should meet them. It's amazing how many stories Rick and I have about people we both know. So much to talk about.

Rick (Carroll) authored an excellent book (IZ: Voice of the People) about Hawaiian singer Israel Kamakawiwo'ole (aka IZ), famous for his popular song medley, "Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World." Anyone who would like to know more about Iz, such as how he fits into the Hawaiian Sovereignty movement that has changed the perception of Hawaiians and their culture empowering a very visible comeback for their people should read this book.

Every Tai Chi session is different. Some days Skip will offer verbal instruction and other days, like today, the lesson is silent while the forms speak to us and demonstrate how to capture chi and move  like a martial artist in slow motion. "He's a healer," a local surfer told me.

He always finishes our session with a few parting words.

"In my office I have a sign with a quotation by Lao Tsu," he offers today. "It says, 'Help me to have patience... and hurry.'"

Dat Always Da Case

Life on the island unfolds in many a mysterious way each day, which is never the same and yet always the same.

We are still reeling -- and I couldn't sleep last night -- from the birth of Mayu our new grandson yesterday in Moloa'a. Listening to Isabel, our daughter the mother, talk about the birth I was overwhelmed by the details of a woman bringing a child into the wold. I cannot imagine what that feels like but I know from being present when my three daughters were born that the event is miraculous.

Isabel described pain and convulsing throughout her body as the little guy made his way out, both a complete letting go of her bodily organs while struggling to keep things moving. No artificial inducements. She says that she left her body for a spell, not recognizing a close friend who assisted with the home birth after the baby had arrived.

Being in the same small, intimate room just hours afterward, I had the sensation of being in a church or temple, not a medical clinic and the smell of disinfectant. There was a calmness and feeling of completion as Mayu lay quietly on the bed under a swaddling blanket. He is so small, even at nine pounds, that he was nearly invisible on the bedspread. His older sister, Viva, 7, was present to witness his arrival. "I saw him come out," she exclaimed. You could see her young mind calculating the whole experience. "She was quiet and watched," said her mother.

One more day of carrying the little guy in her belly would have meant going to Wilcox Medical Center in Lihue. Hernan, Mayu's father who held Isabel during birth, said that 45 weeks is the maximum duration for a pregnancy before medical attention becomes necessary, at least as a precaution. As it was, the birth, on the day of a full moon in this setting, was perfect.

He was born in a sac or membrane that contained the amniotic fluid, referred to as a "caul" birth. This is rare and, according to some, a spiritual sign. The cushion of water seemed to have protected him. I pulled the cover down and made a quick study of Mayu's tiny, impeccable body and swelled with emotion.

Barbara and I agreed that we were so fortunate and happy to be there.

Looking out the window I saw green, the color in its many shades that is Hawaii. I took in the wafting breeze and heard a chicken clucking.

Then last night I couldn't sleep thinking about the whole thing. Life. Nature. Family. Children. Parents. Grandparents. The moon. The Way. The tides. Forever changing. The ocean. Sunrise. Sunset. Waves. Forever waving.

This morning I went to the hardware store in Princeville to buy a screen-roller tool to repair our screen door. A woman stocking a shelf asked if she could help me. I told her what I was looking for and she said, "Aisle 11." I searched and searched aisle 11 and finally found the hook where the screen rollers would be. It was empty.

As I walked toward the exit door I passed the woman and told her what happened. She replied, "Dat always da case."

Born Today

Welcome, little guy. A baby was born today, child of Isabel Bryna and Hernan Descoines. Following a night of heavy rain on the island and on the day of a full moon, he chose to enter the world amidst a small gathering of loving welcomers in his own candle-lighted home. We are so grateful and happy to have him join our family and the family of life on our precious planet and beyond.

Fanning the Breezes

Last night the rain came again. Hard. Loud. Enough to wake us up, and it continued into morning. Now the birds are chirping their curious language, perhaps discussing the morning's find of uncovered seeds. A cacophony of birdsong. According to what I've read, the centipedes come alive when it's wet, seeking moisture. We humans try our best to stay dry.

The rain was somewhat shocking since we were under the impression, based on local comments and a couple of dry weeks, that summer had arrived.

We purchased two ceiling fans for our condo which did not have a single permanent fan when we moved in. There was a portable fan in our two bedroom closets. This seemed odd because the place is about 40 years old and most everyone tells us they keep their overhead fans going 'round the clock, not only for cooling but also to keep air circulating inside and help prevent dampness and mold.

We thought we would pick up a couple of ceiling fans at Costco or Home Depot and that would be it. Hardly. First we consulted with a local electrician referred to us by a trusted island source. During our consultation with Richard the Electrician we learned that there's more to a fan than spinning blades. He referred us to Kilohana Lighting in Lihue that specializes in lights and fans, essentially calling what you find at Home Depot accelerated planned obsolescence.

Kilohana Lighting turned out to be a gold mine, featuring room-after-room of indoor-and-outdoor lamps and ceiling fans. This is where the subject of ceiling fans becomes a puzzle of options and features. You learn about drop lines, ceiling mounts, energy use, remote features, blade shapes,  sizes of blades, reverse flow, ratio of fan size to room size and, of course, wobble. You want to avoid wobble in a ceiling fan unless you're going for the very primitive island look, for example a hidden tavern in the jungle that Hemingway might have frequented.

We made two visits to Kilohana Lighting, by which time we had met the entire friendly staff, and took one last look at Home Depot for comparison -- as well as reading several online reviews of fans purchased there. The reviews helped to seal the deal at Kilohana and made Richard the Electrician sound like a guru. We decided on a sleek three-bladed 60-inch ceiling fan that resembled a nostalgic airplane propeller for our high-ceiling living area.

We went to purchase and pick up our chosen fan, only to change our mind and decide on a different fan altogether. The three blades on this fan resemble pods from a palm tree. We found a second fan for our bedroom that happened to be on sale for a price much lower than anything we found at Home Depot. "I don't know why the owner would sell this fan at that low price," said Susan the sales person.

This morning we are stoked and feel lucky to have fans sweeping air around our little island refuge.

We fell in love with our condo because of it's location which includes being in the path of the prevailing trade winds. The "trades" are the saving grace of the islands, nature's way of tempering the heat and humidity. Our lanai faces Northwest, the direction from which the trades blow. Nice. We can only imagine what direction a hurricane might come from, but let's not go there. Our complex, Puamana, survived Hurricane Iniki which destroyed parts of the island in 1992.

We have met two women who were residing at Puamana at the time, one who claimed she remained in her condo during the tumultuous storm. "I felt safe," she said "These places are well built." As a former boss of mine used to say: "Your lips to God's ears."


The Baby Grandson

Barbara, Viva & Bryna (w/baby)

One reason we are here is to be close to our daughter who is overdue to give birth to her second child.   The baby is a boy. He is to be born at home. Listening to the heavy rain last night I couldn't help but wonder how the midwife could drive to our daughter's place in the blinding rain, should she go into labor. This morning we learned that contractions have begun, yet not so consistent that birthing has started. Our scattered family have been on alert for a couple of weeks, sending texts from the mainland: "Is he here yet?" The new mother's oldest sister sent the message: "He must be very comfortable where he is."

Puttin' on the Ritz, Island Style

Photo by TGI

Saturday night on Kauai is not complete without an international fashion show. Has the tiny island become the Paris of the Pacific? You tell me. I was as surprised as anyone, perhaps most of all because I attended the happy event in the first place, as the default guest of my lovely fashion-conscious wife in the Grand Ballroom of the elegant Marriott Hotel in Lihue, the finale of the Fifth Annual Kauai Fashion Week.

I was instructed to wear long pants, clean white shirt and Alihi beads. Right. She said dress was formal. What does that mean for Kauai? For me it meant the finest from my closet: my cleanest aloha shirt and shorts and a pair of very attractive "locals" flip-flops (aka slippahs), which I had scored at Long's last year for $3.99.

Barbara, of course, threw together an outfit to die for, sleek tropically-flowered dress and enhancing appointments that only women know about.

We arrived at the very very impressive porte-cochere entrance of the hotel in our understated white island cruiser '03 Sentra topped with soft racks and tinted nicely with the famed red dirt. We actually giggled when the valet asked if we were going to the fashion show. How did he guess? The Sentra was driven away quickly by the valet and I wondered if I would ever see it again. Most guests were arriving in late model SUVs producing, if nothing else, a fashion statement of contrast.

To my delight, I was not the only male in attendance, although I would put the ratio at 1-25. Guests were certainly dressed above the level of  beach wear. There was a palpable buzz of anticipation among the throng as though they knew something that I, for sure, did not. Music was in the air and moving from the lush gardens into Grand Ballroom was breath-taking -- the blast of air-conditioning stole mine, anyway.

The fashion show itself was like watching an exotic movie that you somehow missed the first time around and just happened to be present for this gala screening. We found seats about six rows back from the elevated runway, which stretched out into the middle of the ballroom and back.

The show began with well-dressed ladies of Kauai, one after another. smiling and waving and receiving generous applause from the crowd. A string of men in suits followed the ladies, obviously locals, based on the hoots and hollers they received, especially when they would turn toward the audience and throw double shakas with their hands. This was only the warm up.

The evening proceeded with fashion and entertainment, the latter of which featured wonderful dancing including  individual hulas performed by a young man and a young woman. Each of the two youngsters were by far the most compelling hula dancers I have ever witnessed, head-to-toe. Their facial joy was enough to make your heart sing.

The parading of fashion by eight designers, including from the Philippines and Lebanon, was the central focus of the show. At one point Barbara looked at me and asked how I liked it. "Watching beautiful women in alluring and exotic clothing marching back and forth in front of me is nice," I replied, attempting to understate the obvious.

The evening of fashion simply rolled out in front of my mesmerized eyes that would normally have been closed by this time of night.

I commented later to my wife, "I saw fashion tonight."

She said it was the best presentation of fashion  that she had ever seen.  The Pacific Rim influence and island local color made it a night to remember.

Adventures in Paradise

Lolling in our little sun-warmed swimming pool skyward I see a set of scudding white clouds and the feathery fronds of palm trees swaying in the breeze. It feels as though I am at the edge of the world and the sky has never been bluer. The northerly trade winds cool off my wet skin which doubtless is receiving more sun than it should yet just enough for me to loaf comfortably and contentedly. There must be a difference between comfort and contentment but I don't know what it is. In this state it doesn't matter. I tell myself that's why the tropical birds are singing merrily. My wife would say, "He's  just spacing out, again."

We were told last year that living on Kauai was like living in a Third World country. According to the woman who said this, this meant being stranded by unexpected road closures and stores not getting necessary supplies, among other inconveniences including the laidback concept of "Hawaii Time." The clock ticks slower, or not at all. Tomorrow might mean a week from Tuesday, especially if you need a repairman.

This woman is from Oakland, Calif., and she has resided on the small island for seven years. "You just have to get used to it," she said. "I was driving the freeways of the East Bay every day to work and the tension had become unbearable." She and her husband retired to Kauai. She now teaches pilates at the community center. "Life is so much better here," she said.

Barbara above Hanalei

We took note, but one cannot fully understand the meaning of such words until you have experienced life on a tiny tropical island in the middle of the Pacific from your own home base there. We are still visitors, or part-timers, since our main residence is Santa Cruz, Calif. And there is a strong connection between our home town and the island. Many Santa Cruzers spend time here or have bailed from the mainland to live here. "Can we bail, honey? I ask, but the answer is inconclusive.

Natural Disasters

We purchased a condo in Princeville earlier this year, understanding that we would need to vacation-rent the unit to make our ownership work. Since our escrow closed, nearby Hanalei has flooded, including closure of the only road north of Hanalei Bay. The Kilahuea Volcano on the Big Island of Hawaii has erupted wiping out neighborhoods and also displacing residents, as well as spewing volcanic ash as high as 10-thousand feet to be disbursed as "vog," or volcanic smog, into the atmosphere.

Fortunately for us, Princeville, which is on high ground, was spared from flooding. More than 50-inches of rain within 24 hours poured down the mountains above Hanalei creating a delta of water ways through the valley wreaking havoc to homes, roads, churches, parks, agricultural fields and more. The Hanalei Canoe Club lost most of its canoes to the great Pacific. They were simply washed out to sea.

Since settling into our condo about four weeks ago with hopes of preparing it for vacationers, we have encountered minor tropical inconveniences such as ridiculously sized centipedes and cock roaches. A neighbor referred to the latter as "747s" since their wing spans are remindful of those jumbo jets when they come in for a landing in your hair. There are no snakes in Hawaii, but the centipedes, with their 23-pairs of legs and venom-filled pinchers, can grow up to  three inches thick and a foot long. And they scoot like a mini fast-train. I chased, captured and killed three in one day while employing a series of Tai Chi moves that nearly killed me.

Our house inspector revealed how he was awakened in bed by a centipede crawling up his arm inching toward his throat. "I grabbed it and flung it across the room." But not before being bit on his finger which swelled up like a banana. If you're bitten on the face or neck it's like  having a spike driven into your head," said another friend who's been on the island for more than 30 years. "it's inevitable."

Hawaiian centipede originally from South East Asia

Long time residents love to tell you about about Hurricane Iniki in 1992 that destroyed most of he island and set the chickens loose. Listen to he locals and they will also fill you in on the treacheries of the seas full of rushing, spiraling currents that surround the island, and about the many deaths each year of those people,  mostly tourists but not all, who are swept away unexpectedly by said currents. Just as many people succumb to the slippery, high-ledged trails that traverse the exquisite mountains. You won't read about these accidents in the tourist brochures, yet they do show up in local newspaper reports. Apparently, unsuspecting visitors from places like Kansas and Wisconsin either can't read the many posted warning signs, or believe their water skills to be Olympian.

On the upside, tales of island localism and stink eye toward visitors are becoming less common. Aloha is making a comeback. The politics in  the state of Hawaii are as blue as the surrounding ocean and a sustaining connection for its people.

Kauai Real Estate

Since our youngest daughter and granddaughter reside on the island we have made frequent forays to the island for the past couple of years. During one visit we made a connection with a couple from California. They like to travel, a common trait we have discovered of many islanders. They offered to rent their home to us during their away-time, which turned out to be two-to-three times a year for up to six weeks.

Granddaughter Viva

This opportunity allowed us a chance to explore and familiarize ourselves with the island from a local's perspective. Being in the business of real estate, Barbara cannot keep herself from poring over multiple listings of places for sale. So in addition to visiting local markets, beaches and trails, we spent a commensurate amount of time peeking into open houses and learning what's for sale and at what price, and how islanders decorate their bathrooms.

Real estate value on Kauai has been going up over these past couple of years. This does not mean that it's necessarily a good investment. Hawaiian real estate is notorious for its ups and downs and does not follow normal trends. Recall the Third World comment.

One of Barbara's many brothers (she has three), has been for years a frequent visitor to Mexico. He's a hustler, not in the sense of illegality, but he has an enviable ability of knowing how to make a buck. Big bucks, I should say. He has purchased housing in Mexico over the years with the motto: Never invest more money than you can afford to lose in a Third World country. Easy for him to say.

Using that formula, we borrowed some money against our high-equity, low-principle mortgage on our small, modest house in Santa Cruz, telling ourselves that the funds would go toward building an addition onto it, while continuing to visit an exhausting number of open houses on Kauai when we were there. Were we kidding ourselves? We hired an architect and structural engineer to prove that we were not. We were rewarded with beautiful, albeit expensive, plans rolled up like a Dead Sea Scroll. We went so far as to secure a building permit for our addition, a process similar to riding the Giant Dipper roller coaster at the nearby amusement park while having your money fly out of your pocket.

Still, paradise beckoned.

The Art of Coincidence

Having more than 70 years of life experiences under my belt (and yes, the belt is a size or two larger for it), I am of the philosophy that some things are meant to be. What exactly this means, I do not know, but I have found that coincidence is more than a random happening, not predestined but perhaps in alignment with other mysterious forces. Yes, I took drugs during the Sixties including the one that Aldous Huxley claimed to open the doors of perception. I also read the Don Juan trilogy by Carlos Castenadas.

My first experience on Kauai was on a gifted honeymoon in 1968.  We were mesmerized by the simple beauty and intimacy of the island, which at that time had one traffic light. I returned for the first time in 2006 to find a busier island and areas that were once jungle now developed, as well as coastal locations, like now-renowned Breneke's Beach, scrambled by at least one major hurricane. Breneke's was difficult to locate but there was the same two-lane road that circumvents most of the island and the immense natural beauty of the landscape that will bring almost any red-blooded human  to tears.

When our youngest daughter decided to settle here a few years ago, we decided to make frequent visits. Unlike the other islands of this archipelago, Kauai offers us a sense of familiarity, or perhaps it's just cozy desire. There is no freeway or thoroughfare. When here we attend yoga classes at the community center in Princeville, through which we have met nice, like-minded people from all over. It's as much a social- as a fitness-gathering. Our daughter, a legendary free spirit, issued the following  caveat: "Don't come here for me. Come here because you want to be here." Her mother just looked at me.

Princeville

Princeville is located on high ground on the eastern side of Hanalei Bay, which is the signature location of the north shore of Kauai known for its astounding beauty at the foot of a range of peeked, luscious green mountains featuring numerous waterfalls that tumble down to magical Hanalei.

Lava rocks mark foundational elements for Fort Alexander

Voyages in 1778-1779 by English Captain James Cook to the Hawaiian Islands aroused scientific and economic ambitions of the Russian Empire. Subsequent voyages by Russian navigators produced detailed accounts of their findings, which included the anonymous native Hawaiian people. The archipelago was deemed a strategic location for supplies and economic dominance of the Pacific by a Russian-American company that attempted to build a fort on the bluff on the north shore of Kauai that would be named Fort Alexander, after Russian Emperor Alexander Andreievich Baranov.

The Hawaiians, who were no slouches, defended their island. The Russians were thwarted and all that remains of the would-be fort are a circle of lava rocks assembled for the foundation. Bunkering that defined the perimeter of the fort is sill visible, although covered with grass. The Regis Resort Hotel sits adjacent on the bluff.

Scottish adventurer Robert C. Wyllie arrived on Kauai in 1844.  He accepted an appointment by King Kamehameha III as minister of foreign affairs with the intention of having the Hawaiian Islands recognized as a sovereign nation. Wyllie also had personal ambitions and acquired large tracts of land that included the bluff above Hanalei. He named his estate "Princeville" in honor of Prince Albert Edward Kauikeaouli Leiopapa a Kamehameha, son of King Kamehameha IV and Queen Emma.

Paradise Found

There have been nights when I wake up, jump out of bed with my headlamp on and shake my pillow  in fear of a creeping centipede or dive-bombing cock roach. I'll be overwhelmed by the heavy floral fragrances wafting from the natural botanical garden that is only our condo landscaping. I may sneeze a few times, slide back between the cool sheets and try to convince myself that there is no way I could be allergic to paradise.

Aloha nui loa. Until we meet again.