Hilo

Having done enough research to satisfy ourselves that our land purchase is a good one and should go through – with a projected closing date in mid-February – we're spending a few days exploring the wet side of the island. Hilo is the center of the universe over here, and in fact the largest town on the island with a population of over 43,000. It's also the capital of the county of Hawaii, which includes all of the Big Island. Hilo isn't really known as a tourist destination – that distinction belongs to the Kona area and all it's great beaches on the dry side of the island. What Hilo is known for is rain, lots and lots of rain – somewhere between 125 and 200 inches per year, depending on which weather station you choose. That keeps all the parks lush and green, but it also gives a distinctly mildewy smell to any poorly ventilated interior space, including the bedroom of our current rental accommodations.

Hilo is a bit old and worn, having suffered a couple of devastating tsunamis in 1946 and 1960, and the collapse of the local sugarcane industry in the 1990s. It reminds me of the former timber town Aberdeen back in Washington State, another somewhat depressed, rain-sodden victim of economic obsolescence. Still, there are worthy sites here, including a fantastic tropical botanical garden, waterfalls, an astronomy center at the University of Hawaii-Hilo, an old missionary house turned museum, a big farmer's market, a tsunami museum, and some nice waterfront parks where much of the town used to be before the tsunami's redecorated. And, oddly enough, it has hardly rained at all in the three days we've been here.

 Above Rainbow Falls

 Hawaiian Tropical Botanical Garden

 Falls in the botanical garden

 Deborah tries on her new leaf dress

 Astronomy Center at University of Hawaii-Hilo

Stylish 3-D glasses for the planetarium show

 Lili'uokalani Park in Hilo

 Strange fuzzy orb on a type of short palm tree

Turning Japanese (and Jewish)

Although our official house sitting duties have been over for nearly three weeks, we are back at our host's dwelling – this time as renters. It turns out Waikoloa is a conveniently located base from which to manage the purchase of the vacant land up in Hawi while working with our realtor and escrow company down in Kona. And $100/week is a price we just can't beat. Plus we've grown quite fond of our host family and their menagerie of cats and dogs and chickens. Well, not the chickens so much. Nothing against them, but they are a lot of work and not exactly brimming with either affection or egg production.

The kids in Tamar's family are an unusual blend of Jewish-Japanese. Hawaii is know for its rainbow of mixed ethnicities, but that one has to be one of the least common. Tamar's ex-husband has been back in Japan for several years now, but she has managed to raise great kids as a single mom. They aren't really religious but they do cherish many of the Jewish traditions. Menorahs abound in this house. We were even invited to celebrate with them Shabbat, the Jewish day of rest, with a festive meal, traditional challah bread, ritual washing of the hands, and the recitation of blessings in Hebrew. Strange goings-on for an atheist, but I got to wear a yarmulke, which does a fabulous job of hiding my bald spot. I may convert to Judaism for that benefit alone.

Deborah continues to pitch in beyond the call of duty with respect to cleaning and organizing the house, doing laundry, feeding the dogs, etc. It's not expected of her but much appreciated; besides, she really can't help herself. We also still walk the dogs occasionally and help out with driving the kids to catch the bus or taking the garbage to the transfer station. Cam is the dutiful son who attends the University of Hawaii at Hilo on the other side of the island but still manages to come home virtually every weekend. Mia is the daughter who attends that special science-focused high school I mentioned in a previous blog post down toward the Kona airport. Both very nice kids – sorry, young adults – who are not above playing games like Scattergories and Monopoly with AARP members like us.

As for our lot purchase, we came to an agreed price of $135,000 for the 1/3 acre parcel, but there's still a bit of work to be done before the expected closing date in mid-February. I won't say too much about it until that date, but if all goes as smoothly as we hope the ink will barely be dry when we leave the island for........JAPAN! A last-minute house sitting opportunity opened up there for which we applied and, much to our amazement, were picked for. So we're going to spend a month in Kyoto. The first week will be on our own, then the last three will be the house sit for three cats (yes, only three – not thirteen) in an old wooden Japanese house for a couple of Canadians who are currently living in one of Japan's oldest and most beautiful cities. We've been warned it will be cold there so, having packed only for Hawaiian weather, we've had to have some of our winter clothes shipped to us from home. Well, I did anyway. Deborah had a couple of things shipped, but mostly used this addition to our itinerary as an excuse to buy new clothes here in Hawaii. (Surprisingly, they do carry cold-weather clothing here in Hawaii, where the locals start to shiver during those rare occasions when the thermometer dips to 60F). Deborah denies this, but I swear that wherever in the world we travel, her pre-trip wardrobe collection is never quite right and always in need of supplementation.

Our plan is to fly back to Hawaii from Japan in mid-March and have a couple more weeks here, including another stint of house sitting for Tamar and family who will be heading back to California for a week or so in late March. That will give us a little more time to arrange things for the upkeep and eventual house building on the lot – or more time to search for property if for some reason the current deal falls through. We're hoping for the former.

 I kind of like that yarmulke.

 Deborah at Lapakahi State Historical Park - site of an ancient Hawaiian village.

 Lapakahi - as you can see, this is the dry side of the island

 ...but there's still palm trees.

 

 Hawaiian Monk Seal (sleeping, not dead)

 Hawaiian recliner - cut from palm trunks.

Alphabet Kupa (Soup)

The Hawaiian language belongs to the family of Polynesian languages and has been developing since the first settlers arrived in the Hawaiian Islands around 400 A.D. It started to take a written form with the arrival of European explorers and their various languages in the late 18th century. Then the protestant missionaries arrived around 1820 and fully developed a Hawaiian alphabet so that they could translate the bible into the local language, preach in Hawaiian, and further their cause of converting all Hawaiians to Christianity. Unfortunately, thanks to introduced diseases, many of the native speakers were only converted to dead. For this and a variety of other reasons, the Hawaiian language diminished in use, and was even banned by law from public schools in 1896, as it was gradually displaced by English. In recent decades there has been more interest in preserving the Hawaiian language, but still only 0.1% of the total population are native speakers, and many of those are on the isolated island of Niihau.

The modern Hawaiian alphabet has only 12 letters: seven consonants (h,k,l,m,n,p,w), five vowels (a,e,i,o,u), plus a few special marks that indicate glottal stops or long vs. short vowels. And of course there are the diphthongs – my favorite grammatical term – which are basically pairs of vowels that are sort of smeared together. Our exposure to Hawaiian words – apart from the typical “aloha” and “mahalo” - is mostly limited to place names, which are almost all in Hawaiian. You'd think with only 12 letters it would be easy to remember such names, but it's actually harder because so many are so similar. So differentiating between the towns of Honokaa, Honomu, Honaunau, Honohina and Honuapo is a challenge. Same for Kealakekua, Keauhou and Kahaluu. Or there is Kaloko-Honokohau National Historical Park, which we recently visited, and which sounds a bit like both.

One way to compensate for lack of variety in letters is to just make the words really, really long. In this way you get the type of trigger fish known as Humuhumunukunukuapua'a, or the even more letter-populated fish name of lauwiliwilinukunuku‘oi‘oi. Easier to stick with Yellowfin Tuna, which in Hawaiian is known as “Ahi.” Much easier.

 Kaloko-Honokohau National Historical Park

 

Kane and Wahine (Man and Woman)

 A sea turtle (honu) makes for the sea

 Deborah hiking the lava fields at Kaloko-Honokohau National Historical Park during one of the brief instances when her wind-blown hair wasn't completely covering her face.

 Sculpture at Pua Mau Place Botanical Garden

 Blake feeding peacocks at Pua Mau Place

View from Pua Mau; check out the spouting whale in the distance.

Mauna Kea Beach

The Big Island isn't as well known for its beaches as some of the other Hawaiian islands, but it does have some nice ones, including black sand and even green sand beaches thanks to its more recent volcanic origins. Except for a few spots reserved for the federal government, all the beaches in Hawaii are open to the public. Even where resorts or other private developers have built their fancy edifices close to the ocean, they are required to provide parking and access to the public. Our favorite beach so far is at Mauna Kea Beach Resort. Here the parking for we lowly non-resort guests is limited to 40 spots so you have to show up early. We arrived at 9:15am and snagged spot number 35. Mauna Kea Beach is a gently sloped white sand crescent flanked by rocky promontories. Not enough wave action for surfers or probably even serious boogie boarders, but amateur boogie boarders, swimmers and snorkelers like it, and so did we. Even I, the non-swimmer, enjoyed splashing about in the clear water. Deborah absolutely loved it.

 Mauna Kea Beach

 A boogie boarder waits for a wave

 Deborah is happy

 There comes a point where you've had enough sun.

Pu'ukoholā Heiau

A heiau is a Hawaiian temple, and Pu'ukoholā Heiau near us here on the Kohala peninsula is considered a particularly important one – so much so that we tourists aren't allowed to step onto it. It was built by Kamehameha I and dedicated to his family war god Kūkā'ilimoku (Kū to his friends) as a means of ensuring his ascendency to king. A prophet oversaw construction following ritually specified building practices, including the use of water-worn lava rocks. These rocks are said to have come from the Pololū Valley and transported hand to hand by a human chain at least 20 miles long. (That seems apocryphal to me but, hey, I wasn't there).

Apparently the war god Kū was pleased because after the heiau was completed in 1791, Kamehameha invited his cousin and chief rival Keōua to the dedication ceremony, which is an invitation Keōua probably should have declined – no matter how good the kalua pig was – because he and almost all of his companions were slain, and Keōua's body was carried up to the heiau and offered up as the principal sacrifice. So much for being the guest of honor. By 1810 Kamehameha had, through both conquest and treaties, united all the Hawaiian Islands under his rule.

Note to self: ask parents if we too have a family war god.

Pu'ukoholā Heiau

 

Artist's rendering of the heiau, which measures 224 by 100 feet with 16- to 20-foot-high walls on the landward side and ends, terraced along the seaward side.  Also shown are thatched houses and an altar for the ruling chief and his priests - commoners (and tourists) not allowed.

 View from the temple

 Black tip reef sharks ply the waters below

 No mortar was used in the wall construction.

 Scenic spot below the heiau

The Cost of Paradise

I don't have a lot of exciting touristy experiences to write about because we've been concentrating on real estate hunting. With our offer on the vacant land in Hawi still in the works, we're continuing to look for alternative properties in case that doesn't work out. Hawaii is more like Mexico or some other developing countries in that nice houses can sit right next to junky ones. Yesterday we went to look at a cute litter fixer with a nice yard and an even nicer price, but next door were six barking dogs on short leashes and a big rusty shipping container parked in the back yard (probably full of more dogs). Across the street was a pig in a pen sitting right in the front yard. Another place sat on a ¾ acre lot next to a big, absolutely gorgeous plantation-style house, and looked really nice – and might still be a possibility – but it was only a couple lots away from a chicken farm replete with noisy roosters. The Big Island is largely rural and much of it is still zoned agricultural, so you have to be mindful of whether, for instance, you are downwind of a pig farm.

There are neighborhoods where you can avoid all the “riff raff” and potentially incompatible land use, but we're not really gated community type people, and those places are generally out of our price range anyway. Real estate in Hawaii is expensive. The Big Island is said to have the most affordable properties, which is partly why we're here instead of Maui, but even here $300,000 only buys you a 1000 sq ft fixer. It does help that prices now are almost half what they were at the peak of the real estate bubble in 2006. The market turned sometime in 2011, bounced along the bottom for a bit, and is now heading up again, which lends a sense of urgency to our hunt. If we don't buy something in the next several months, we might find ourselves priced out of the market again.

I should clarify that when talking about real estate prices I'm talking about the North Kohala area at the northern tip of the Big Island, which is where we are concentrating our search. There are places on the west (dry) side near Kona that are more expensive, and places in the rainy southeast Puna district where you can buy a lot for $5000 (although it may be covered in lava) or a house for under $100,000 (although it may be mildewy and riddled with termites).

Apart from real estate we've also been busy researching the cost of living here. The Kona area has all the budget shopping amenities including Home Depot, Ross, Target, WalMart, and, most importantly, Costco. Gas is more expensive at around $4.15/gallon, except at Costco where it was about $3.79 last time we filled up. Movie matinees cost $7.50. Sales tax is only 4% vs. 9% at home. Hawaii has the most expensive electricity in the country, and the Big Island is especially onerous with rates roughly four times what we pay at home. The good news is that all the sunshine makes solar hot water not just possible but common, and photovoltaics are becoming more widespread as well. Plus, if you live at a comfortable elevation (say, 500-1500 feet), you need neither air conditioning nor heating.

Prices for packaged foods are generally more expensive, but not too bad at Costco. Fortunately we eat mostly fresh produce and the farmers markets (and again Costco) are good affordable options for that. And with a year round growing season, many Hawaiians grow their own food. We looked at one house in Honokaa where the owner had orange, tangerine, lychee, avocado, papaya and macadamia nut trees growing in his yard. He sent us home with a bag full of fruit. We were tempted to buy the house for that alone. Here at our tiny cabin in Hawi I can walk out into the orchard in the morning and pick a couple of tangerines for our breakfast. A couple of days ago we came across a papaya tree in a vacant lot and helped ourselves to three big ripe ones. Mango trees are all around, but unfortunately the fruit is not in season right now. It is encouraging that with a little home farming and local foraging skills, you can feed yourself quite nicely for very little money. And when all else fails, you can just go to Costco and make the rounds filling up on the free samples.

 Classic Plantation Style House - Just what we like.

 Hawi Jodo Mission Complex (Japanese Buddhist)

 Cute little house

 Cute but shabby little house

 Modern Interpretation

 Room with a view

Kohala Point -  If solar isn't enough, harness the wind,

 Large snail (3 to 4 inch long shell) descending a papaya tree.

Tiny Cabin in the Woods

We picked up our homeowners at the airport last night, back from their trip to visit relatives in California. That means yesterday was our last day of house-sitting duties. As a going away present, the dogs decided to pull a box full of Top Ramen packages off the kitchen shelves and rip open and devour thirteen of them. One of them also left us a big juicy pile of excrement on the living room floor. Yes, we'll miss you too, guys.

Actually we will miss them, despite their occasional naughty behavior. And we'll miss the cats, some of whom were finally warming up to us after being very skittish initially. Tamar was very pleased with all the cleaning and organizing Deborah did around the house, and appreciated the great care we gave to her pets. She offered to let us stay at her place again during this trip for a minimal fee, and we will probably take her up on it at some point. If we end up moving to Hawaii we're sure we'll be able to count her and her kids as friends.

We made an offer on a piece of land up in Hawi (see previous post), but there are various peculiarities surrounding this particular property that, even if we agree on a price, could foil the deal. More details on that later. As we wait for a response to our offer we are staying for a few days in Hawi in a tiny cabin sitting in a forested section of 8 acres of agricultural land, which, as the web advertisement for this rental declares, is “dedicated to the Unity consciousness.” The purveyors of this establishment also offer something called Craniosacral Therapy onsite and “guided meditations to facilitate the unfolding and embodying of unity consciousness.”

Okaaaaaaaaaay.

Despite – or maybe because of – whatever New Agey kookiness may be swirling around here, it is a peaceful place with birdsong and trees swaying in the breeze. The cabin itself is built on a wheeled base and is the size of a small bedroom or decent-sized walk-in closet. It's very efficiently laid out with a drawer-filled platform bed, a pullout table, an efficiency kitchen and an outdoor shower. With all the natural wood and great effort expended to use every nook and cranny for storage, it feels like being inside a well-designed boat. The shared bathroom (well, outhouse really, but with a flushing toilet) is a two minute walk through the woods. It's so tiny that as you sit on the toilet you can rest your chin on the sink. Just outside our cabin is a sitting area with table and chairs and a nice big hammock. This should make for a very pleasant stay for a few days as we negotiate the property purchase – and of course await the unfolding of the unity consciousness.

 Top Ramen: dogs like it too.

 Sunrise in Waikoloa

 The feeding table.

 Before the Ramen incident.

 Our tiny Hawi cabin in the woods, complete with Hammock.

 Inside the cabin - platform bed with multiple drawers.

Inside the cabin - kitchenette, where Deborah works her magic.