Sun -- On Saturday we didn't leave the house at all, but soaked up every moment of day is a Hawaiian home hibernation. Having eaten heartily at the luau the night before, we made a light afternoon meal of the "leftovers" that that we had been gifted at Merriman's at the end of our Thanksgiving dinner---turkey sandwiches handed to us after paying our check to provide the feeling of leftovers at home. Moreover we had been gifted banana bread in a similar way at the end of the luau. Together these provided enough of a meal for the day.
Sunday was our last full day in Lahaina and we wanted to make the most of our visit to West Maui. Jessica wanted to see 'Iao Valley, a canyon in the lush West Maui Mountains, known for its beautiful waterfalls and vistas. One has to make time-window reservations to access it,as one does in so many places in America (most sadly in Rocky Mountain National Park, where a spontaneous visit to the most beautiful place on Earth felt like a constitutional right if you live in Colorado). It is the new America---parks are crowded and overburdened.
The canyon is famous in Hawaiian history because it where the Maui Islanders made their last stand against Kamehameha, who was the king of the Big Island, and who was attempting to conquer all the other islands (he was successful at bringing them all into his kingdom, with only Kauai being with a bloody battle). At 'Iao canyon, bodies of the slain in the battle were so thick in the gorge that they blocked the stream and it ran red with their blood.
This occurred after contact with the Europeans (the visit by James Cooke in 1777). Up until then Hawaiian history was preserved only by oral traditions. They Europeans, especially the missionaries who came later, were the reason we have any of that preserved. It is a great irony that our knowledge of early Hawaiian history and legends is because of European contact.
Afterwards we drove down into the town of Wailuku, which has a quaint downtown shopping district along its main street. I made Jessica pullover so I could inspect a show I saw, where in the window were painted, in folk style, portraits of both of the recent presidential candidates, clearly indicating support of one (the woman) and condemnation and fear of the other (the man, who had won the election).
I love photographing this type of electoral ephermeral. It captures the time and place so well, as it will be soon gone. It turned out to be a t-shirt shop run by a soft-spoken laid-back haole who had been running his small business there, making his own custom t-shirt of the same style as the presidential portraits in the window. His politics were obviously very mine, but like most of our side, we are not bothered by that and do not shun people just because they voted differently. We are "open and accepting" much more than the other side, in my experience. We know that many people change their minds about things after "waking up" and there is no point in browbeating people over differences like that (even as I believe they were voting to destroy America).
I bought a "Lahaina" t-shirt of his original design, showing the old waterfront downtown before it burned. It was in shades of blue and turquoise with a psychedelic influence indicating the lifestyle and preferences of its designer.. "I was in a blue mood when I made that one," said the proprietor. No credit cards accepted, just Paypal and cash. I had the cash on me. It felt right to pay him that way. I didn't bring up politics, and neither did he.
Afterwards we drove a bit up the north east coast of the island, on the narrow road along the cliffs of the sea. I had read about a "traditional Hawaiian" community far up along this road (which eventually connects back around the resorts where we had our Thanksgiving dinner at Merriman's. But the road is tough. It gets vary narrow and feels dangerous. Jessica, who was driving, felt menanced by an oncoming truck that refused to make way for her. So we turned back and head back to Wailuku.
Later I made the connection that the town in the remote cove along the coast that I had wanted to visit the same community as this article. The white man in question here was severely beaten after moving into the community and attempting to change certain things. Even before learning the details, I somehow felt sympathy with the locals (it turns out the guy was from Scottsdale!).
Clearly the assailants. deserved prison time, but the idea of it being "hate crime" bothered me, not because it was against a white persosn, but because I reject the whole idea of "hate crimes". Next it will be hate speech. As we learned in the recent vice presidential debate, people in the news media already think "hate speech" is a crime.
For dinner, we drove back to our part of the island one last time and descended the slope into Lahaina, passing the 9/11-type memorial to the dead one last time and descending into the "now oldest part of town" on the north side, where we dined at a cafe on the waterfront that abuts the luau property where we had dined on Friday night, and is owned by the same folks. It was relaxed and the food was tasty. I ate a loco moco bowl, a local favorite confort food of a hamburger steak on rice topped with a fried egg. For once I remembered the deails of a meal. Usually that is Jessica, who remembers food very well.
We then explored a nearby indoor mall, the Lahaina Cannery, converrted from an old industrial facility. I remembered it from the videos after the fire as a landmark. The metal roof of the building is probably one reason it didn't burn, and why the Old Lahaina Luau facility, which was shelted by the cannery, did not catch fire as well. Inside the Cannery was an "ABC", a wellknown local chain of gifts and snacks. I bought a couple more t-shirts and was chagrinned when I received no sack. Sacks and bags are hard to obtain now, because of local laws. I still have a plastic ABC store back from my 2013 visit to Oahu. Maybe next time I go to Hawaii I will bring it and use it, just for fun.
To conclude the day we drove just a few blocks south to find the beginning of the burn area of the town. One could see several blocks of empty lots cleared of the ruins and debris, an apartment complex with just the old fixtures like an abandoned campground. I told Jessica I wanted to see it again, so I could remember it, so when I come back I have a reference point. After a few blocks the street is blocked. We grabbed some ice cream and a minimall that was spared (waiting in line behind a large Indian family) and then headed back to the house to enjoy our last sunset there. It had been a full day. I even managed to learn a bunch about the Vanderbilts.
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