10.2.10
Aloha! I made it to the little town of Pahoa, HI! Even further, I have spent my first of 20 nights in my new home! It’s 5:30A.M., and I am wide awake, thanks to the roosters on the other side of my screen door and my eyelids that didn’t hesitate to fall heavily with the sunset around 7 P.M. Considering my 17-hour day of traveling yesterday carrying 100 pounds of baggage on 3 measly hours of shut-eye, and a 6-hour time change from what I’ve been used to, I had no problem stretching out on a futon and entering dreamland at such an early hour. Adjusting to the time zones is going to be interesting.
After a fun-filled night in San Francisco at the Matt & Kim show, losing my wallet in the swaying mob of people, having it miraculously returned to me at the end of the show, all contents accounted for, (not to mention losing my phone the day before and having it returned to me in mint condition that morning, I am starting to gain faith in humanity. And, of course, in the angels that trace my every move.
I’m not going to lie and tell you that the 5-hour flight to Honolulu from San Fran was a piece of cake. It is, sadly, the longest flight I’ve encountered thus far, and it did make me well aware of the amount of sleeping pills and mind-consuming activities I’m must seek out in order to stay sane on the long journey to Thailand in three weeks. Flying into Hawaii was absolutely breathtaking, though, as one can probably imagine. Being from the beach, I felt my soul come to life again and the saltwater race through my veins. It felt so natural. Tropical vegetation as far as the eye can see, waterfalls pounding into lazy rivers below, and tiny, yet comfortable little abodes tucked in beneath the vibrantly colorful plant life. Not to mention the swells rolling in all along the coastline, beckoning me to come play. I can already tell Hawaii is one place I will have to revisit.
The Honolulu airport was playing Hawaiian music, many things were written in Hawaiian, everyone was adorned in fresh-flower leis, and the magazine shops were mostly surfing magazines. The airline magazine in the seat-back pocket on the inter-island flight was basically a local surfing mag, as well. This sort of place only exists in my dreams, so I thought. was I had a few hours to kill before the short jaunt to the Big Island from Oahu, so I grabbed a “101 Things to Do on the Big Island” magazine, my ridiculous pile of luggage, and marched outside into the 74-degree sun to soak up some rays. I don’t doubt I looked homeless, but it sure wasn’t the first time and definitely won’t be the last. Just prior to walking out on the tarmac to board the little toy plane to Hilo, I met a man by the name of Fantuzzi. What an interesting character he was! Born and raised in New York City, he’s been to 76 countries, every U.S. state, and he makes a living playing afro-beat, reggae-funk music. He gave me the name of the place at which he’s playing Monday night and said it’d be a great place to meet some people. Sounds like a good time to me!
The sun is rising now, and the day awaits me. I’m going to be joining the other WWOOFers today doing some work with some roots. That is all I know at this point. Well, I do know that I can’t wait to shower and brush my teeth. The farm is like a jungle and my search for the bath house in the dark was unsuccessful, so I’m looking forward to getting to know the area like the back of my hand.
Side note: I’m currently watching a live cockfight on the other side of the door, and I must say it’s quite amusing. They are sooo loud! BOCK BOCK BOCK BIGOCKKKKK! Haha. Wow. I’m excited to say this will soon all be normal.
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