One Day in Hawaii

I’m going to share just one more memory from my travels before I stop writing about my once-in-a-lifetime experience. I might share some more pictures in the future, but for now, this might be it.

Before I returned home from Micronesia, I spent about 36 hours in Hawaii. Spring Break was the following week, so I didn’t need to be in a rush to get back home. The Boyfriend had spent some time in Taiwan visiting his family a couple of weeks earlier, so I was fairly certain we would not be spending additional money to travel during Spring Break.

I woke up around 11 a.m. on Friday after about six hours of sleep. I had been very tired from the long plane ride and a week of work and activity, but I wanted to have some time to enjoy Hawaii. It was my first time on the island, and I keep saying to myself that I need to travel more.

The hotel room for the return trip was in the Waikiki Tower—perhaps because it faces the direction of Waikiki Beach—and it has much more spectacular views. The night I spent here before traveling to Micronesia was in the Kona Tower, not a particularly impressive view since it was mostly apartment and hotel buildings rather than a sliver of beach and palm trees.

I first went in search of food. The hotel was next door to the Ala Moana Hawaiian Center, reportedly the world’s largest open air mall. I have no reason to doubt it given how many stores there are and how much walking you can do there. I found a restaurant in the food court that served garlic shrimp. It wasn’t bad, actually, but the shrimp still had their shells, making them a little more difficult to eat. From what I gather, people in other countries, especially Asian countries, tend to eat shrimp with the shell intact. I’m not quite on board with that yet.

I walked around the mall a bit after that, and I happened up a performance of hula dancers. The mall advertises that this occurs every day at 1 p.m., so I lucked out that I was there on time.

I also talked to The Boyfriend for the first time in more than a week. Now that I was back in the States, I had phone service without roaming charges. I had checked with my carrier before leaving on the trip, and the amount you have to pay for calls and texts when you’re out of the service area is just outrageous. I’d like to blame the particular carrier that we have, but none of the team had better service.

I spent the greater part of the afternoon walking around the beach area in Ala Moana Park, which is close to the hotel and shopping center. It’s really just across the street. The scenery is almost stereotypically Hawaiian. I saw surfers, boats, fishermen, swimmers—just what you’d expect and want to see on a Hawaiian island. The ocean is spectacular here, so many beautiful shades of blue, and the sky was clear, almost cloudless, and a brilliant blue color itself. I also saw lots of pigeons and doves, many of them congregating in areas where they are more likely to get food.

Dinner included a couple of bento boxes (they were very small), some Hawaiian cookies, and some Spam musubi. I had to have some Spam given how well-loved it is on the islands. The dinner on the night before we left for Micronesia had included Spicy Spam Rice Bites, and I wanted to have another, different taste on the way back home.

I started to feel the exhaustion catch up to me not long after eating dinner. I got sleepy very early in the evening, earlier than I normally would be sleeping, but I couldn’t resist getting to bed in anticipation of the return flight the next day.

Saturday morning only provided time to buy a few souvenirs: a t-shirt, some chocolate covered macadamia nuts, a keychain to replace the one from Hawaii that I had lost last year, a small stature of King Kamehameha—nothing expensive.  

I had to go through TSA screening again and several agricultural inspections, but the worst part of navigating the airport in Honolulu was having to pay extra charges because one of my suitcases weighed more than 50 pounds. I was given the option of rearranging and redistributing my stuff, but I opted just to give the airline a little more money. I haven’t told The Boyfriend about that charge—or about some other charges I incurred during the trip—because he would consider it wasteful, but sometimes it’s really not worth the hassle.

Hawaiian Airlines is a much better travel option than United. The seats are larger, and they do try to keep you hydrated and somewhat well fed during your six hours in the air. I even got a free glass of wine (chardonnay, if you must know). Chuck Henry, who anchors the Channel 4 News here in Los Angeles, was on the flight with what appeared to be a dozen relatives. I guess they had a family vacation in Hawaii and were coming home too.

We landed at LAX at almost 11 p.m., and after waiting for quite a while for my luggage to appear in the baggage claim area, I walked to the street, located The Boyfriend, and started the short ride home. The trip was finally over, only a collection of memories now. 

Day Seven on the Island

Or, The Long Journey Back to the United States Begins

We had our last breakfast at the Cliff Rainbow Hotel in Pohnpei this morning. I had what has become my go-to meal: two eggs (scrambled) with bacon and hash browns and with a glass of pineapple juice. The eggs and hash browns could have been cooked just a little bit longer—as has been the trend this past week—but the restaurant for the hotel has provided solid food every day. And having our breakfast on the “porch” each day has been a delight.

 

Overall, the hotel has been nice, but it’s not what we’ve come to expect by Western standards of service. It cost roughly one hundred dollars each day, which is fine since I’m being reimbursed for my travel expenses anyway. However, for that amount of money back home, you’d expect more consistent towel service, for example. I had to ask on at least two days for a washcloth and hand towel. I got a washcloth one of those days, not on the other one, but I never got a hand towel when I asked for one. And, of course, there was mold on the soap in the bathroom that first night in my room, likely the result of the boxes sitting inactive for a long time in this jungle humidity. No matter, I put the moldy bars on top of the boxes, and the next day I had fresh (well, fresher) soap to use in washing my hands.

I did like one feature of the hotel that you don’t get in the United States. We were allowed to check out early but keep our room key until it was time to go to the airport. I’ve never had that opportunity before. A couple of the team members checked out the night before, actually, since processing a credit card charge takes considerably longer here. I waited to check out until about an hour before our shuttle was due to arrive, but I had time to spare and to relax.

We ended our time on the island with some shopping. One of the team members wanted some souvenirs and small gifts, and I tagged along to see what I might purchase as well. Our first stop was at a handicrafts place just a few blocks from the hotel (well, if there were such a thing as blocks here). I picked up a bunch of turtles and manta rays made from woven straw (just two dollars each) and a carved wooden shark (but not one with alleged real shark teeth embedded in its mouth). Then we had a return visit to the Palm Terrace, where I picked up another t-shirt, this one just for myself.

The next stop was referred to as the “banana store,” so dubbed because of the large number of bananas visible from the road. However, that was only about one-third of the store. Another section was devoted to freshly caught fish, perhaps the reason that the store was very crowded as everyone seemed to be interested in purchasing fish rather than anything else. There were lots of colorful fish, including some blue ones that we were told were parrot fish. In the back of the store were more handicrafts and carvings. I didn’t see much new here except for some lovely baskets. I coveted a couple of them, but I didn’t know how I would be able to get them back to Los Angeles, given how overstuffed my suitcases already were.

Our final stop was the A-One store, an upstairs spot next to a travel agency (which was not getting much traffic, honestly). We had tried the store earlier in the week, but it had been closed. I found a couple of additional straw items to purchase here: a larger turtle connected to a smaller one and a string of fish that I intend to put in my office at work. This place had some great wooden carvings, but again, I couldn’t figure out how to get them back to the mainland.

We got to the airport in Pohnpei and checked our bags—twelve people with lots of stuff to take home. No one in Micronesia asked about how much my suitcases weighed, which was good for me. I got a second stamp on my passport, and then we had a couple of hours to wait before we were allowed to get into the waiting room. The Stingrays Café next door offered air conditioning and ice cream, both necessary preparation for a plane ride that would last almost ten hours.

Our first stop on the way back to Hawaii was Kosrae, another of the islands in the Federated States of Micronesia. This time, we were allowed go get off the plane and hang out in the waiting area. I have to say that this small airport was depressingly bare, only a tiny snack bar window and a woman at a folding table selling more handicrafts and Ziploc bags full of banana chips. However, what we were able to see of the island itself was beautiful, perhaps even more rural than Pohnpei and somewhat more mountainous.

Kwajalein Atoll was up next. Again, given that this is a military base, we were not allowed to leave the plane. Only people who had tickets to Kwajalein disembarked while the rest of us waited for some new people to get on board. You’re not allowed to take pictures from the plane given that the atoll has ongoing and apparently vital military activity—which is strange given how many pictures of the base itself are accessible online with a simple Google search—but the other person in my row took pictures even though we were warned not to do so. He was not a native speaker of English, so he might not have understood the announcement, but I doubt that would keep him out of trouble if he had been caught.

The last stop before Hawaii was Majuro Atoll in the Marshall Islands. This was the only one of the islands I had “visited” on the way to Pohnpei, but I got out anyway so that I could take a few pictures. United Airlines gives you very little leg room—unless you pay extra for it—so there’s no way to feel truly comfortable. You get up whenever they tell you that you can stretch your legs for a while. Inside the waiting area, the woman selling crafts at a table was there again, and the small snack bar supplied cold beer to the military members and military contractors. I didn’t think drinking a lot of beer before sitting down for a six-hour journey on a plane was a particularly good idea, but if they wanted to run to the bathroom several times during the flight, I figured that was their issue.

You have to hope for quiet neighbors when you travel. Stephanie Miller jokes that she’s always booked on Screaming Baby Airlines, and I can certainly empathize. A lot of children got on board at Majuro, so I had to watch movies just to drown out the sound. I saw Our Brand Is Crisis for the first time (okay, but hardly revelatory) and three short films from the Tribeca Film Festival: Speed Dating, Ellis, and Warning Labels (the last one the best of the three, in my opinion). I also watched bits and pieces of two movies I’d already seen, The Great Gatsby (meh) and The Blind Side (only Sandra Bullock’s performance is worthy of attention here). I nodded off a couple of times and slept for a few minutes, but I didn’t get much rest. The woman who sat next to me was apparently into manspreading, so she kept bumping my leg and waking me. She also took over the arm rest from time to time, including one period where she rubbed my arm for a few minutes. She was asleep for almost all of the trip, by the way, as was her son, so at least I had to be thankful for that. However, if she’s capable of manspreading and elbow-rubbing in her sleep, I shudder to think what she would be like when awake.

We landed in Honolulu Airport early in the morning but later than originally anticipated. The airport was deserted, so we made it through the TSA/Homeland Security checkpoint quickly. I also got through customs and the agricultural inspection rapidly as well. Apparently, they’re only worried that you don’t bring food into the country, and since I didn’t bring any, not even snack bars this time, I was safe.

The shuttle got the four of us who were not going immediately back to the mainland pulled up to the Ala Moana Hotel Condominiums (how did I miss the part about condominiums the first time?) at about 4:30 a.m. I feel asleep almost as soon as I finished brushing my teeth.

Day Six on the Island

Our last full day on the island included giving our exit report at the college. “Exit report” is a rather fancy name for the half hour the team chair has to present preliminary findings to the college, perhaps with some hints about possible commendations and recommendations. The team also gets the chance to thank some of the people who have been particularly kind or helpful during the site visit. The exit report is not a dialogue; it’s a monologue. The chair introduces the members of the team and speaks for about thirty minutes. The team then leaves as a group, gets into the vehicles (getaway cars?) as quickly as possible, and leaves the campus for the last time. Questions from the audience are not allowed, and I always leave exit reports wondering how everyone has reacted to what we’ve told them. A lot of campus personnel show up for the exit report; even the campus dogs followed us to the practice gym for the presentation.

When you’ve finished your section of the draft evaluation report, like we had, you don’t have much to do on the morning of the last day of a site visit. We had lunch and talked to each other about our home campuses until it was time to give the exit report. I did go with some other members of the team to the campus bookstore and bought a book on the ethnobotany of Pohnpei. I’m hoping to find out the names and purposes of some of the remarkable and beautiful plants on the island.  

After going back to the hotel for a quick change of clothes, we were off to the ancient ruins of Nan Madol. Our guide, Kenji, and his friend (who was always at the back of the line and whose primarily goal seemed to be making sure that everyone made it in and out of the site safely) took us on quite a lengthy drive to the location of the ruins. They are quite far from the hotel and the college; in fact, they are just off Temwen Island, a smaller island situated close to the main island of Pohnpei.

Kenji made for an interesting tour guide. He told us stories about the country and its chiefs and their people and the legends of the past. The stories were a bit enigmatic, to be honest, and sounded rather more metaphorical than realistic. He’s a good storyteller, though, and was certainly entertaining to listen to. By the way, Kenji is of both Pohnpeian and Japanese heritage, and he and his wife (who is of French descent) run the ramen noodle shop where we had eaten earlier in the week.

We had to walk through a mangrove forest to get to the ruins, and we passed by what could only be described as a series of mangrove swamps. We saw some spectacular images, and everyone took lots of pictures. That book on ethnobotany is definitely going to come in handy.

For the tour of Nan Madol, we had to pay $20 each for the guides. You then have to pay tribute to three chiefs whose land you cross to get to the ruins: $1 for the first one, $3 for the second one, and $3 for the last one. I don’t know why the first chief only gets one dollar. We had to bring enough dollar bills with us to cover these “charges.”

To get to the ruins themselves, we had to cross a river (or perhaps it was a stream or maybe a canal). Thankfully, it was at low tide, so crossing was relatively easy. I had borrowed The Boyfriend’s Nike flip flops specifically for this part of the trip. I took off my shoes and socks, put the flip flops on, crossed the river, and put my socks and shoes back on. I had to do the same on the way back.

It’s tough to describe the ruins. There are lots of great views there, and you find yourself wondering how such large rocks were placed to make the walls and other structures. No one is completely certainly how long ago Nan Madol was completed, and the locals apparently won’t go near it because they think it’s haunted.

We had an exciting afternoon touring the ruins and the forests surrounding them. Our next stop was the Kepirohi Waterfall, another $3 charge. Getting to the waterfall involves another spectacular trek through the jungle and lots of beautiful plants. The waterfall itself is a beautiful sight, and much like Nan Madol, hardly any of the local people go there—although apparently not out of fear that the waterfall is haunted. Since the island has very little tourist trade, that means we had the place all to ourselves. Kenji bought a bag of donuts at the roadside stand where you pay your entrance fee to the waterfall. We then proceeded to throw pieces of donuts to the fish, who would eat them before the donut even hit the water. We also attracted the attention of a very large eel with a taste for donuts as well. I made some videos of both the waterfall and the eel.

For dinner, we went to Kenji’s restaurant, the Nett Ramen Café and Restaurant, where I had a different type of ramen this time. Both types were delicious, and I managed to get a picture this time. I also picked up four small handicrafts they had for sale at a small table near the entrance: two hearts and two stars. We also chatted with Kenji and his wife, who is expecting their first child in a couple of months. They apparently live in the house across the street from the restaurant, so we also met some other members of the extended family.

I was certainly tired when I got back to the hotel. Unfortunately, I had another “visitor” in my room. The previous day, I had encountered an enormous cockroach next to the door. I used a shoe to kill it, and it was quite… “juicy.” However, when I told the other team members, I was criticized for not taking a picture of it before killing it. I remedied that the next time. This cockroach was in the closet, so I had a chance to get my phone before it ran away. Unfortunately, though, it ran away to join its family and I missed my chance to squash this one.