... can you find something beautiful around every bend, and at every dead end!

During the first few weeks that we were here, we spent most of our evenings shopping.  We had so many sundries and household goods to purchase, even with two large crates shipped from Illinois.  Finally, after we had settled into our home with our crates unpacked and our massive shopping sprees over, we felt like we had some free time.  All of a sudden, Mike realized that we didn't have anything to do on a Saturday night!  What a joy!

I had begun working my permanent schedule which includes Saturday, but I arrived home with energy and a few hours of daylight remaining.  Mike suggested that we drive north from our home and "see what we can find."  I was game, so off we went.  We climbed into the jeep and headed towards Kohala.  The landscape along this drive is fascinating and incredible, although very different than most think of when they picture Hawaii.  It can be barren in places, with it looking like small boulders heaped together, or as my mom put it, "like someone came through and stirred up the dirt with a loader just to let it sit in piles to dry."  Long-leafed bunches of grasses grow over some of this area while other parts are still bare a'a lava.  Here is a photo of some of the lava flow that we took in 2007.  (The white "graffiti" is made from coral.  That's another blog for another day!)

If you're interested in better photos, then search "Mauna Loa 1859 lava flow" and look at earthmagazine. org.  

On the afternoon that we drove along the coast, it was sunny and beautiful.  We were enjoying the change of scenery and had driven about 45 minutes when I saw a sign for a beach.  I suggested that we take the turn.  We came to a spot called Hapuna Beach.  It was beautiful!  Long, white sand beach with a fairly calm surf.  We were not prepared for a swim but we enjoyed walking along the beach and enjoying each other's company; in fact, we enjoyed each other and the beauty so much that we forgot to take a photo of the beach, but at the last minute we did take a quick selfie.  

After our walk in the soft, warm sand, we got back in the Jeep and headed toward a bay that we had seen signs for.  We ended up not stopping there, but instead kept going forward until we came to the end of the small road.  It reached Puako Beach Road.  We looked both ways and saw a sign that said, "Dead End."  So, of course, we went in that direction.  It was headed makai (that means toward the ocean) and we guessed that the drive may be scenic.  

The road guided us, bending and twisting, through an eclectic neighborhood where the homes each had their own style.  One of our favorites was what our realtor described to us as a "pod home."  This is a style of home that has reached a small level of popularity here on Hawaii.  Imagine every room in your house being separated into separate buildings.  There are beautiful gardens and paths that lead you from one to the next, but to go to each room, you must walk outside and connect with the environment.  That is a pod home.

Continuing around the next bend, we came upon another surprise.  From the corner of our eyes, a large grey creature appeared.  He crossed the road quickly to smell some flowers.  We never expected to see a turkey running wild in paradise.  But here's the proof:

We also began seeing signs that said, "Shoreline access."  We originally had no intention of stopping at one, but we could get a peek-a-boo view of the water between the houses and at some of these narrow access points.  We noticed that the sun was about to set, and just at that moment, we came to another shoreline access.  I suggested that we stop there to watch the sunset.  We turned into the small parking area and noticed there was one person on this coral "beach."  I felt guilty as we approached her because she was sitting, with books in her lap, enjoying the sunset in her solitude.  I didn't want to disrupt her time, so we kept to the other side of this small area.  We said our polite hello but tried to give her space. 

A few minutes later, as the sun's full belly is just touching the horizon, we hear a small voice.  "Would you like me to take your picture?"  The sun was really close to setting, and it was beautiful.  The small bay that we had reached made for calming waters whispering over rocks.  There was a gentle breeze and the sun was a beautiful, indescribable pink, coral, orange orb disappearing over a lilac and blue ocean.  We accepted her offer and so with our iPhone, she took this photo of us.  

You will have to imagine the sun as I've described it; the iPhone knew it couldn't do justice, so it showed the gate to heaven behind us instead.  We thanked her and gradually began small talk with her.  She was from Honolulu and here to go to Kalapana to see the ocean accept the flows of lava from Madame Pele.  She had hiked the 8-9 miles a day or two before and had since been showing herself around the island.  She was staying with "a friend of a friend," just across the bending road.  We began taking photos of her with her phone and she of us with our phone.  Here is another.

Our conversation continued long after the sun had hidden herself under the horizon.  As we talked, the sun continued to light the sky in a magnificent show of her pleasure for the day.  It is amazing how the sky actually gets brighter as the sun sets further.  Here's a photo I took.  The iPhone is not made to capture such beauty, but at least you get an idea.

It was quickly growing dark and just before the sun turned her lamp off for the night, our new acquaintance asked to take a photo with us as well.

And so began a new start from a dead end.  We continued to talk until there was no more light, and then continued some more.  Before we knew it, we were asking our new friend if she wanted to go to dinner.  She agreed and we went to an absolutely divine restaurant at Mauna Lani shops called The Blue Room Brasserie and Bar.  We spent the next couple hours talking and getting to know each other while sharing food from each other's plates.  At the end of the evening, Mike and I were absolutely thrilled about our new friend.  We have actually already visited her on Oahu where she introduced us to some parts of the island we had not discovered during past visits.  Our new friend is an extraordinary reminder of what it means to live Aloha.

It is only on Hawaii that there really is a new friend around every bend, and at every dead end!

... Can you find a rich mixture of people who are as varied as the types of sand found on its beaches

As I mentioned in a former post, I'm a speech pathologist.  I work with the aging population at a skilled nursing facility.  The group of people I work with are each as different as the sunsets here, and all just as beautiful.  The patients that I have the honor of helping actually teach me more than I could ever teach them.  Everyone has a story, and although that's been true at every place I've worked, it is mesmerizing to hear the stories here.

Hawaii has a rich and dynamic history.  It includes wars and kings, unification, welcoming of new cultures, strong belief in the gods, and, of course, Americanization.  Living here for this short time, I can already feel the loss of the true Hawaiian culture.  I feel guilt for contributing to that, but also feel so honored to be surrounded by such deep rooted traditions from so many backgrounds.  Each day at my work, I am blessed with the opportunity to speak with elders who teach me about the farming history of the island, about the gourds indigenous to this area and what they were used for, about the birds that are only found here, and about the difference in how the winds flow in the morning versus the evening.  I know so little about this rich and beautiful culture and land; yet, I am enthralled with learning more about it so that I can do my part to respect it.

The culture of Hawaii is different for everyone who lives here.  I've met people who are snowbirds, coming to enjoy the beautiful weather and golf in their retirement years; they appreciate the aesthetic beauty of this island.  I've also met people whose family tree can trace back to when their ancestors lived in the fifteenth century, during the time of land division known as Ahupua'a.  I've met people who are young adventurers, surfing and looking for thrills all over the island.  I've met people who are of Japanese descent who farmed cotton that was then sent back to Japan before World War II.  I've met people of Mexican background who are descendants of the original Paniolo, the cowboys of Waimea who first arrived in the 1830s.  And then, of course, I've met people who are a beautiful mixture of these cultures and more.

With all of these different backgrounds, there is one uniting force: Aloha.  Aloha is the spirit that rustles the leaves as it passes through them.  It's the smell of the ocean and the sound of the waves as they crash into the lava rock on shore.  Aloha is the guiding light of the souls of those who live here.  It warms the soul long after the sun goes down, and surfs along the rays of sunshine or atop the clouds that come over the mountain in the afternoons.  Aloha is a living force.  They say someone can be "full of aloha."  It's the kindness and love for all people that is predominant here.  A person has to accept the aloha into themselves in order to share it.  To do this, the person must figure out how to connect with the mana and let go of the garbage that blocks our connections to each other and to the earth.  Each person's aloha language can be so different, but it can be seen, heard, and felt in every direction.  Each time a car stops so people can cross the street, that's an expression of aloha.  When mangoes are passed out at work because someone's tree produced more than they can eat, that's aloha.  When someone takes the time to talk story for a moment, showing they are never too busy to connect, then they are sharing aloha.  When someone new walks into a group and that person immediately feels welcome, they are being enveloped with aloha.

It is alive, rushing through the blood of those who carry it, passing through the "hang loose" waves, being lapped up from the water bowl for dogs at the farmer's market, hugging the necks of the receivers of leis for special occasions.  From the time my husband and I have arrived, we have felt nothing but aloha.

It all started before we even got here, really.  I subscribed to a few message boards about the Big Island and also somehow ran into the Facebook page for "Big Island Newbies."  It was here that I would post some questions in preparation for our move.  One day I posted about the neighborhood that we had purchased our house in.  I received a private message from someone who said she also lived in that neighborhood.  After that, she and her family cared for us like we were a part of their family.  She and her husband drove by our new house to be sure nothing was wrong with it before we could arrive.  They let us borrow furniture until our own items arrived.   They invited us over to celebrate Independence Day, our first holiday here, only 9 days after we arrived.  This family has been such a gift to us, spreading their aloha by helping us unpack, move our heavy furniture into our house when it arrived, and giving us suggestions on how to navigate the DMV.  They, as well as others, have provided us with their gifts of aloha.

Not all my posts will be this deep, but in order for you to understand the source of my future posts, I felt I had to try to explain my love of this place a bit.  Some of my future posts may poke fun at certain situations, events, or observations, but please be clear that I will never be speaking poorly nor look down upon any of the people or way of life.

How it all began...

E komo mai!!  Our dream of living on the island of Hawaii came to fruition six magnificent weeks ago.  It was something we have been dreaming about since 2007 when we visited for the first time.  During a gray, wet, wintry week of January, my husband and I boarded a plane in Chicago and landed in the plumeria scented, warm and gentle hands of Madame Pele who was a gracious hostess to us.  She helped my husband and me rebuild our bond after a year of mostly just cohabitating.  Like many, our lives had become so busy and taxing on our relationship.  We had sold a home, built a home, my husband had survived job cuts from a company buyout, and I had been working 6-7 days a week for the entire year before.  We were tired, weary, and not connected with each other.  From the moment we stepped onto the stairs that led down from our plane, when we could take in our first breath of the warm nighttime air, we could feel the mana.   We exhaled a year's worth of stress.  Hawaii's mana healed our weary souls and helped us to find the joy in each other again.

In 2010 we returned for another visit.  This time we brought our twelve year old daughter.  We were curious if we would still feel the same life force, and we definitely did.  There is an electricity in the air.  Some people feel it in their bellies, while others tell me it just takes their breath away.  For me, it encapsulates my entire chest, filling me so completely that I'm sure I'll burst.  Our daughter loved Hawaii as well and we were grateful for that.  It was during this trip that we began talking about moving to Hawaii "someday."

In the summer of 2014, when our daughter was turning 16, we returned once more.  When we stepped off the plane that time, we felt like we had finally returned home.  We had missed this island and felt drawn to it in a visceral way.  We had not been able to conceive how much we missed it until we had returned.  We both felt this so strongly that when we went back to Illinois, we started telling people we would be moving there "for real."  We knew that we didn't want to uproot our daughter during high school, so it was still a couple of years in the future for us, but it was definitely going to happen.

No one really believed us.  My husband had never lived more than 30 minutes away from his mom.  We had our jobs there, our house, and the south suburbs of Chicago was the only home our daughter had ever known.  Our relatives would chuckle and roll their eyes as we spoke about moving.  Time passed and our daughter continued to grow, becoming more independent and ready to make her own life choices.  As she spoke of going out of state to college, we began speaking of when to put our house on the market.  As the spring of her senior year approached, we put our house up for sale.

We had a series of events that had to occur in the correct sequence.  First, we had to start the process of bringing our two dogs and cat.  This is a process that takes a minimum of four months.  Then, our house had to sell.  However, it couldn't sell (or at least close) before our daughter graduated from high school.  Then, I had to find a job.  Meanwhile, my husband had to approach his employer to see if they would allow him to work remotely.  After solidifying our employment, it was time to find a place to live.  Then the real work began of arranging for the actual move.  All of this happened as our daughter was completing her final few months of high school.  She had to choose a college, go to prom, and graduate.

The housing market in the south suburbs of Chicago had not yet recovered from the real estate fall out in 2008.  We watched houses in our neighborhood, which had the same floor plan as ours, and listed for less, sit for months without being sold.  So, when we put our house up for sale in April, we had plans for it to take 6 months or so.  However, our house sold in 5 days.  As soon as we accepted the offer, I began looking for jobs.  There is only one skilled nursing home on the Kona side of the island, which was the side I really wanted to live on.  This rehabilitation center had a full time opening for a speech pathologist.  I remember sitting on my sofa in Illinois, feeling a huge ball of excitement rising from the pit of my stomach up to my throat as I applied for the position.  I could not believe the gift that laid before me!

During this time I had reached out to speech pathologist's on the island through our professional association network.  A few wonderful ladies responded to me and answered my multitude of questions.  There was one SLP in particular who was more than willing to give me information; she answered questions I didn't even know I had.  She shared my love of long emails and we continually corresponded.  After a few exchanges, she mentioned that her company was looking for another full time SLP.  It turns out it was the same place I had already applied to!  A couple of very long weeks later, during which time I was very impatient (just ask my new supervisor), I was offered the position!

My husband had been speaking in generalities for quite a while to his employer about working remotely.  It came time, however, to have a concrete conversation.  His immediate supervisor laughed when he said he'd like to move to Hawaii but still work for this local bank in Illinois.  My husband smiled but explained how it would all work, and by the end of that conversation, his boss was in his corner.  It had to go up the ranks, but right away the Human Resources Director jumped on board.  As the request traveled up the chain of command, there was not one person who hesitated in saying yes.  They valued him and the quality of his work too much to lose him.

Once the employment pieces of the puzzle were secured, it was time to find a place to live.  From everything I had read on message boards, websites, and even in books, Craigslist was the place people seemed to post home rentals. On the island of Hawaii there are very few landlords who allow people with pets to live in their rentals.  I scoured it daily and there was only one house that looked like it would be a good fit for us with our pets.  We wanted to rent for a year or so before buying a house.  This would give us time to make sure our idea of paradise really was all we hoped it would be, and give us a chance to find the best neighborhood for our needs.  I had concerns about this rental being right for us, but figured we could live anywhere for a year.  I was actually relieved when the landlord opted for another resident.

As a result, my husband and I decided we were going to go ahead and buy a house.  I made flight arrangements for my mom, who lives in Tennessee, to meet me in San Francisco, and we would fly from there to Kona together.  She came along because my husband had to stay home for our daughter.  My mom was my biggest supporter even though she was secretly dreading the thought of living even farther away from me than she already did.  She went to all 30 homes that I went to; she listened to me dissect each home to determine if it was the right one for my husband and me.  She patiently waited for me to make a decision, giving me the space to do so without giving too strong of opinions.  I could not have done it without her!

We had not found a home that fit all of our needs; we had decided on the one that would be the best fit, but someone put in an offer just before us.  So now we had to choose from others that didn't really come close to matching our needs list.   At 1:00 in the morning of our last full day in Hawaii, I was scouring the real estate website from our realtor, beginning to question if this truly was our destiny, or if we should stop and "come to our senses" the way our family was hoping.  It was literally just as I was saying to myself, "Does the island really want us?" that the website refreshed and brought up a new listing.  I looked at the photos, read the description, and emailed the realtor saying, verbatim, "I will put an offer in on this house without even seeing it."  From its description it fit every single one of our needs,  On top of that, it had a full view of the ocean.  We did not even put that on our list of "wants" because we were trying to be practical, although both of us, of course, would never turn down such a gift!

Our realtor arranged for a showing at 9am.  It lived up to its photos and description, except for the view, which was far better in person than the photos showed.  So, by 10am of that morning our offer was accepted.  As my mom and I drove back to our hotel, a rainbow crested over us.  It was not raining, nor did it seem particularly humid or wet.  It was Hawaii's smile to let me know that we did belong!

I'm mentioning all of this to show how the island really does make a way for you if she welcomes you to her home.  I'm convinced that we belong here; every part of our sequence of events worked out perfectly. This island makes both my husband and me feel at ease and accepted.  These are two feelings that are fairly foreign concepts for both of us, but we find it here.  It seems that many others do as well.  The transplanted people here mostly seem to have one thing in common: they didn't really fit where they were before.  Maybe they were loners, or a bit eccentric.  Maybe they don't want to conform, or maybe they don't know how.  This is part of the beauty of this island.  She's an island with fewer white sand beaches than the other islands so she may not be considered as beautiful to outsiders (we know different!).  She's the one that is still growing and changing, not quite sure how she will end up herself, (we appreciate the courage she shows in her willingness to evolve!).  She's the island that wouldn't settle on only one climate so there are 11 (a little something for everyone!).  She's an island that only asks that her 'aina be cared for, that her native bloodline be respected, and that her own eccentricities be accepted.

Only on Hawaii will be a blog about all of the wonderful and unique experiences that we have had and will continue to have as we live our dream here on the leeward side of paradise.  So, sit back, drink a Mai Tai, feel the cool breeze, hear the waves of the ocean, and smell the sweet air.  If you're not here with us, then after reading my blog, make plans to come here for your next vacation.  Trust me.