Message in da sand   September 7, 2015

It’s almost lunchtime, just before noon and I am warming some stew on the stove. Liz left a jar of frozen stew, amongst many other yummy items, for me to enjoy while she and her husband, Will are on a long awaited adventure on the East Coast. Both have recently retired from their  plant nursery business, where I was employed for 4 years, from 2009-2013. They also have 2 small poi (mixed breed) dogs and a large cat. All three were rescued and have a luxurious life of biscuit and jerky treats, homemade food and special cushions. I am house sitting and pet sitting while they are on vacation for three weeks. My first week is over and have only 2 weeks left on duty. Much sitting is involved with this service and it is nice for writing, study and quiet contemplation. I have put the dogs, Hoku (star) and Ziggy, outside on the lanai (patio) while I eat my stew.

The small lanai is like a mini tropical arboretum. Liz’s favorite orchids hang from the ceiling like elegant tapestries in a museum. Some sit, coquettish, in the corners, like  feminine beauties in a ballroom.  Her anthuriums display bold colors and shapes. The leaves are like emerald fans. The flowers are like waxy, ruby red and  hot pink  ladies’ high heeled shoes with their elegant stilettos turned upside down. When the sunlight enters at the perfect angle, it feels  like a luxory suite decorated with the finest orchids and anthuriums. A resort for only the best, furry guests.

As usual, the floral decor, in the lanai, inspires awe and wonder while Hoku snores, Ziggy barks and T-cat dreams of a banquet of scampering rats. More than once, I have told Liz, “When I die, I want to be reincarnated a dog and be adpoted by you and Will.”

Finished with Liz’s ono (delicious) stew, I check on the guests. Hoku and Ziggy look almost cute enough to eat. With the body of a 7 lb sausage, stuffed into a silky black sweater, combined with a toothy grin, tiny pointy ears, pointy tail, and hamster-like legs, Hoku’s charm is irrisistable. Even her snoring sounds adorable. Her only desire is to get as much food, hugs, kisses and naps she can possibly squeeze into a sleepy, poi dog day.

If a 12 lb, skinny carrot, had fur, floppy ears, barked furiously and jump up 4ft to catch a frisbee, then it would be Zig. Ziggy is nervous, anxious and needs a job. Luckily, his  12 lbs of doggie, hyper-cuteness works well for guarding against wild chickens and pigs. He may be small, but mighty, indeed! He’s a sturdy, hound/terrier-like, brown, short haired, wanna-be german shephard. A super loyal, one-man dog, Zig, is always ready to jump in Will’s car and go “holo holo” ( travel). Hoku is left on her  cushion, snoring in Liz’s office.

Without Liz and Will at home, staring at Aunty Marla, seems to be their favorite activity.  Having lived alone for over a decade, I am comfortable with only my pair of eyes staring at me, not 2 extra pairs watching my every move, especially when having lunch. Luckily, they are content to rest outside, on their fluffy, freshly washed, outdoor cushions. T cat (short for trouble), is already asleep on the lanai chair, preparing for a busy evening of rat catching. She is a docile, gray and white, clean and friendly kitty, during the day. At night, she is a fierce, rat catcher, keeping rodent trouble away. Her dual cat life is in harmony with the dogs. They rest well together. Happy with a few treats, the doggies relax with their kitty friend. With eyes closed, they sniff the air, anticipating  homemade defrosted doggie dinner made by their mommy Liz.  Aunty Marla is good at defrosting.

It’s nice to relax  with the pets napping in a quiet place filled only with bird songs and the trade winds blowing through the trees. Their home is up mauka, mountainside of the island. The forested areas have been minimally developed because the central mountainous areas prohibit human habitation. Kauai’s people live mostly along the seashore makai side which is where I grew up in Hanapepe. Life up mauka feels very different. Driving down the muddy road this morning reminded me of the many hurricane warnings, flash flood warnings, awful heat, humidity and humbling silence from the past several weeks. I stopped counting the number of hurricane reports and don’t remember their names except the first one Kilo (kilo in Hawaiian means ‘to observe’). All of them chose to terrify us, then suddenly turn away from catastrophe for which I am thankful. The weather has been too bad to swim, but this morning the sky was blue, the sun was shining and a refreshing breeze woke me. Usually, this beautifully moderate and benign weather is taken for granted, but not today.

Today is no “Labor Day;”  a whole day to rest and play. I have the day off from 3 part-time jobs and school. I have returned to school at Kauai Community College. Very slowly, I am working towards an associate degree in Nursing. Like many others in this tough Hawaiian economy, I am juggling several jobs including pie dough making, gardening, and home health care. Mama Kauai has blessed me with the labor of love. Work for me is a joy; however, a day off is still nice, an added bonus. “No can complain,” says this Kauaian laborer.

Two years ago, in 2013,while working for the Pie Lady and Liz’s horticulture business called “Growing Greens,” I also earned a certificate and license for a CNA, Certified Nurse’s Aide. Since then, the Pie Lady’s business expanded, Growing Green’s closed and I started work in home health care. While continuing school in pre-nursing, I also do gardening for Liz and Will’s home in Wailua, up mauka on the east side of Kauai, the opposite end from Hanapepe. It’s only about 30 miles distance between the two places and just 45 minutes driving time, but to Kauaians it’s a long drive and very different places to live.

The five minute drive down to the beach this morning allowed a quick view of visitors taking pictures of the Opaeka’a waterfalls up mauka. Down at the seashore, makai side, I caught a glimpse of visiting kayakers paddling in Wailua river. The river was flowing, muddy, reddish- green from the mountains above to the sea below. The dramatic connection of the island’s land and sea is normally lost in the everyday hurry of getting to work, school, and grocery shopping. When all these normal activities of visitors and residents were challenged and threatened by storms and flooding, impending cyclonic destruction, everyday life became sacred. A neighbor’s kind offering of some fresh batteries for your old flashlight was a cherished blessing.

The ancient connections of mountains, waterfalls, rivers and sea dominated the lives of naked mortals and our furry and feathered friends. When the chickens disappeared from familiar parking lots, the dogs stopped barking and the birds and crickets ended their serenades the silence became scary. All that was left to listen to was our own fragile heartbeats and the endless weather reports tracking the ever present hurricanes one after the other. After the final and fifth hurricane had their last laugh at our trembling powerlessness, Kauaians and visitors alike returned to a somber normalcy. To find yourself brought to your knees and your entire species bowing to the power of an unstoppable catastrophic force of nature is life changing and death awakening.

With each hurricane warning, naked, furry, feathered creatures and their babies, insects, toads, trees and flowers retreated into deeper and deeper silence. Nothing moved, the cooling perpetual trade winds from the northeast stopped. The trade winds were blockaded by gargantuan cyclonic walls; relentless heat and humidity followed. Even the sense of panic was stifled, nothing stirred. Clinging to bottles of water, hiding behind stockpiles of canned goods, and plywood barricades naked two legged creatures waited for danger to pass or destroy.

Upon threat of death, a new awareness was awakened among the vulnerable, naked species. When the furry returned to their barking, the feathered chirped and crowed in the morning and the crickets returned to their music at night, a restful sleep fell upon the naked creatures and the morning brought a soft, gentle rainbow in the sunlit mist. The rainbows arch was like a heavenly pat upon naked human butts. Letting us know it was OK for Now to laugh, cry, sing or shout, the rainbow broke the silence and Mama Kauai and her children smiled again.

For now, the first blast of hurricane season has passed. “Not pau, ‘till pau,”(not finish until finish)’till the fat rooster crows. When Liz and Will flew into blue skies on September 1st, the warnings were over, fear ended and gratitude began. This morning, on September 7th, no “Labor Day,” Lydgate beach park was a temple of gracious peace. The large, open air pavilions with there sturdy, shaded rooftops were filling with families and food covered picnic tables. Cold coolers were stuffed with ice, bottled water, soda and canned juices. Stacks of cups and paper plates, forks, chopsticks and napkins were made ready for the all day picnic. Portable barbeques and bags of charcoal briquettes were standing ready for bamboo skewered strips of teriyaki beef soaking in sweet, shoyu, ginger marinade. Barefooted children played and chickens clucked in eager anticipation. Rows of spam musubi (rice balls) snugly protected in plastic wrap, filled cardboard soda boxes, ready to feed swimmers, splashers, snorklers and lazy shade nappers. Mellow Hawaiian music cruised along the rows of picnic tables from big speakers unloaded from even bigger trucks. The soothing melodies were healing; encouraging exhausted bodies and strengthening happy hearts.

The beach was still cluttered with driftwood from the storms and the water was still a little brackish-brown from the Wailua river’s flooding. I could hear the life guards laughing in their tower. The red metal posts stuck in the sand,“Warning: No Swimming” signs were gone. Sitting on a  smooth, sunbleached log, I watched the still horizon where dark blue sea met bright blue sky. My breath followed the whisper of a gentle, receding wave. Then my eyes followed letters appearing  in da sand. Da message read, “ trust me.”  Smiling, I watched the message disappear with the next wave.

The water was cleansing itself, the shallower areas were already clear. It felt safe to just float there. Before learning to swim, my older sister and brothers taught me to float a few feet above the sand. “ If you panic, cuz you scared,you going drown, you sink,” dey said, “if you relax, you going float.” “Such is life,” I breathed, “floating between heaven and earth, mortality and immortality, hot teriyaki beef sticks and a cold bottle of water.”