Konichiwa Japan

You'd think that Hawaii would be a lot closer to Japan than the U.S. mainland – and it is – but it's still a ten hour flight from Honolulu to Osaka. Or, if your plane has a malfunctioning window heater, as ours did, then you get to sit uncomfortably on the plane for an additional three hours as the maintenance crew tries to fix it. The three hour delay caused us to arrive late at night and miss the shuttle I had reserved to take us from Osaka into Kyoto, but the airline arranged for a bus to take us to Kyoto Station and then we were able to hail a cab to take us to our hotel, which we finally stumbled into bleary-eyed at two in the morning.

The hotel is centrally located and really quite nice for the price. They provide a light breakfast and there's a common lounge and kitchenette for guests to use, as well as massage chairs and laundry facilities. The hotel is also spotlessly clean - so much so that I nearly walked through a sliding glass door that was so clear I could have sworn it was open.  Now it has my nose print on it.  Our private bath even has one of those high tech toilets the Japanese are famous for with a heated toilet seat and bidet-like function for those times when toilet paper alone just won't do. I had to try it out, but I wasn't brave enough to set the “fountain” at full throttle. That just seemed wrong.

Our first meal out was at a great little restaurant where you remove your shoes before sitting on a chairless platform on thin cushions in front of a low table. I tried my best to sit cross legged in the local fashion without banging my knees on the underside of the table but, as I know from my yoga practice, I just don't have good hip-opener flexibility. I finally had to settle for a hybrid position where one leg was bent close to my body and the other stuck straight out under the table with its corresponding foot making an appearance at the opposite end where Deborah was seated. She found this quite amusing. The vegetable tempura was delicious and gave us enough energy to do some grocery shopping and to walk about our new temporary neighborhood for a bit. It was just enough of a taste of Kyoto to know we are going to love it here. But I'm too jet-lagged to write any more today.

 Asuka Restaurant, Kyoto

 The food's good, but the furniture is small

 Deborah, ignoring her husband's intruding foot at her side.

 Classic Kyoto architecture

 

 Vending machines are everywhere

 This strikes me as an unfortunate choice of name for a beverage product

 

 Control panel for the toilet - not on the space shuttle, but in our hotel room.

Timing is Everything

I got a call from the Post Office this morning in response to my recent inquiry about the frustrating absence of our package of winter clothes that we need for our imminent Japan trip. I was told the package would go first to Honolulu on the island of Oahu, then over to Hilo on the opposite side of this island, then to Kamuela (a little bit closer to us), then to our place here in Waikoloa. The result of this circuitous route is a four to six week typical travel time, despite the USPS web site's original assertion that it would only take about two weeks.

So, resigned to the prospect that we didn't have a snow cone's chance in Hilo of receiving the package by Wednesday, we went shopping for clothes. And not wanting to blow our budget on cold weather gear that would seldom get used again in our new Hawaiian lifestyle, we hit the thrift stores first. At the one associated with the Hawi Transfer Station (a nice phrase for “dump”) we got a couple of hoodies, a long sleeve shirt, a stocking cap, and a decorative plate (A what? I know – Deborah can't help herself) for a grand total of $3.25. Then it was over to a church thrift store in Waimea where, with the help of a Valentine's sale, we acquired four long sleeve shirts for me and a funky handmade denim/fleece jacket for Deborah, all for $11. Another Waimea thrift store yielded a couple of pajama bottoms for $7 that Deborah will use as tights. Eleven articles of clothing and a decorative plate for $21. Who says Hawaii is expensive.

Of course, once we arrived back at the Waikoloa house after our shopping odyssey what did we find sitting on the front porch? Our long lost box. The Post Office employee I spoke with this morning gave no indication the package had even made to Hilo yet, let alone that it was on the verge of finally being delivered to our door step, almost exactly one month after it left Olympia. But all our emergency purchases this morning were not a total loss. Deborah loves her funky new jacket and intends to bring it to Japan anyway, plus a couple of the other items. I can say the same for one of the shirts I picked up. And if we ever close on the vacant lot we're trying to buy (we're still waiting) then we'll need work clothes while we're cleaning up the property. Maybe the title company can mirror the post office and perform a similar miracle of perfect timing, bringing our property purchase to a close just before we fly off to Japan. Let's hope.

 Ponds near the Mauna Lani Resort, used for raising fish in a traditional Hawaiian method.

 Similar ponds at Waikoloa Resort.

Deborah models her new jacket.

The Waiting Game

Our purchase of the vacant lot in Hawi is held up at the title company over the release of an old mortgage on the property. So we wait. We're dying to get up there and start surveying and hacking away at the overgrown bushes and trees, but there's no point until we actually own the property. 

We leave for Japan on February 14^th (a nice Valentine's Day present, eh?) so we're hoping this gets resolved before then. We're also hoping the winter clothes being shipped from home get here before we leave. We're going to need them in Japan, where it will be 30 to 40 degrees cooler than here. The clothes were shipped a month ago and have been stuck in Honolulu since January 29^th. Apparently they don't send them over to the outer islands until the shipping container is full. So we wait. Tamar has a few things we can borrow for our Japanese winter, but some last minute shopping may be in order if that box doesn't get here soon. Not that Deborah will complain about having to do more clothes shopping, but I will. 

And now for something completely different...

 Gecko on the fruit of a Hala tree

 Another Shabbat, another loaf of challah that's a work of art

 Storm cloud near Waimea

 Clever incorporation of a Honu (Sea Turtle) shape into a rock wall

Beware the Vog

Vog is volcanic smog. It's been a continual presence in the Hawaiian Islands since Kilauea started belching particulates, sulfur dioxide, and other gases in 1983. The volcanic gases react in the atmosphere with oxygen, moisture, dust, and sunlight to create unpleasant chemicals that blur the horizon, damage crops and irritate the lungs of the sensitive. Thanks to the prevailing trade winds the east side of the island is normally spared from vog while Kona and the south end get it quite often. It also often blows west over to Maui and Oahu, as if the Big Island – the youngest of the Hawaiian islands – is deliberately farting in the faces of its older siblings.

Vog isn't as brown and ugly as a typical L.A. smog; it's more of a whitish grey haze, but it can do a number on the respiratory systems of some people who are susceptible. We haven't noticed any big effects on ourselves, but then again we haven't seen it too often here in Waikoloa where we're staying. And up in Hawi where we are buying property you really don't see it at all.

Here a few photos from the Hamakua coast on the rainy but normally vog-free east coast:

 Lapahoehoe Point State Park

 Two humans blocking the view of Lapahoehoe Point State Park

 Lots of rain equals lots of green

 

 Bamboo

 Akaka Falls

 Believe it or not (I didn't at first) this fish climbs the 442 feet up Akaka Falls.  The secret?  Suction cups!

Volcano

Hawaii Volcanoes National Park encompasses two active volcanoes: Mauna Loa and Kilauea. Mauna Loa, which last erupted in 1984, is the world's most massive volcano, rising to an elevation of 13,679 ft (neighboring peak Mauna Kea is slightly taller at 13,803 feet, but Mauna Loa is broader and has greater volume). If you measure from either mountain's underwater base rather than from sea level they are taller than Mount Everest.

Kilauea sort of sticks out of the side of Mauna Loa and was once considered part of it, but now is deemed a separate volcano. It is one of the world's most active volcanoes – possibly the most active – having 34 eruptions since 1952, including the most recent event which began in 1983 and has continued to this day. Kilauea is said to be the home of Pele, the Hawaiian volcano goddess. The volcanic glass fibers you find about are known as Pele's hair.

When I was here 18 years ago I could hike right up to the flowing lava on Kilauea's south flank, but now it is much less accessible, unless you spring for a helicopter flight. You can see a bit burbling up in the summit caldera – especially after dark – but hikes around that area are off limits right now due to high levels of sulfur dioxide venting (even though we are probably immune, having already survived high levels of noxious fumes from Tamar's dog the last several weeks). We were at least able to hike around an outer portion of the caldera, where the thin black crust reminds one of the remnants of an oven cleaning cycle and crunches satisfyingly under your feet. Passing from the barren lava fields to the surrounding rainforest makes for a striking contrast. We also walked through a lava tube, which is formed as the outer layers of a subterranean flow cool and harden as the warmer and still molten inner portion flows out, leaving a tubular structure or, as we like to think of it, Pele's colon.

We stayed at a very nice apartment while touring the park, a roomy place in the forest with the use of a hot tub. But the plentiful rain that feeds the lush rainforest surroundings here reinforce our decision to choose instead the more modest rainfall of Hawi. Here in cool, damp Volcano you are constantly fighting towels that won't dry and sofa cushions that smell mildewy. If a place needs a dehumidifier it is not a place we want to live. 

 Steam Vents

 Sulfur Vents

 Kilauea Caldera

 The same - more dramatic at night

 A tourist ponders the gates of hell

 Deborah in the caldera

 Ferns find a foothold in the cracks of the caldera floor

 Fern, baby, fern

 Buckled floor of Kilauea Iki Crater

 Petroglyphs

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.