Ask

Last summer I went with my dad to an extended care facility where his church was giving a service to their members who lived there and he was the featured speaker.  His topic was "ask" as in ask god for the things you need.

Each year my friend has a word that is the theme she focuses on in her life and it shows on her blog.  I thought a lot about it, especially lately, and my word is ASK.

I've needed even more help in the last few days since the sprained ankle incident.  I needed help from my gram to take me to the doc and the pharmacy and some other places, and then today my brother came over and helped me.  He took out my garbage and put in all those daylight spectrum lightbulbs because he's tall and I can't stand on a chair with crutches.  He helped me put my splint cast thing on.  He took my grocery shopping.  He took me out to the family's house to hang out and brought me home when I was so tired.  He brought in my dog food because that's something he always does for me.

And I asked for that help.  And I got it.  I am very grateful for my family, my support system, the people who take care of me.  I'm grateful I was able to hear my dad's talk and learned to ask.  For long-term readers of this blog, you know asking for help has never been something I'm good at.  I'm getting better.  I'll try to ask for help when I'm not. :)

S.A.D. and sad

In my last post I didn't mention the other part of my depression issue... mostly because I thought, oh, well maybe it's not really something I have to deal with.  Classic Brook denial.  But here's the deal: it is very dark and grey here this winter.  It's infinitely better than Eugene's constant downpour of rain. But in both instances, it would seem S.A.D. or, seasonal affective disorder, a mood disorder that messes with your brain so that it doesn't produce enough serotonin (the happy, soothing chemical) might have worsened the depression.  You are more likely to be one of the 36 million Americans who suffer from this condition if you already suffer from a mood disorder (such as bipolar or depression).

Yesterday I decided I'd go out and get the special daylight, full-spectrum lightbulbs recommended for S.A.D.  But I had to take care of a few other things first.  This was the start to my sad day.

And to be honest, it wasn't that bad at the beginning and mostly my fault for the "ouch" factor since this was when I finally found the title to my car and went to the county to get the title in my name and my plates ordered (I'd already registered the car and had temporary plates that had expired a month ago).  Let's just say it will be a tight month because I forgot that NOW they would access the taxes on the car I purchased before Christmas.  Yeah, "ouch".  But as far as license plates go... "Go Broncos!"

I had called the University of Utah clinic earlier and when I was in the Walmart parking lot about to get those special light bulbs and some food (as far as edible things in my fridge I was down to condiments and beer, oh, and cranberry juice since I now drink that everyday, refer to posts on miserable UTIs), a nurse called me back.

The nurse I spoke with told me that the doc who'd been reviewing my case won't do anything until I have my pump out.  I said, this is great, it's what I want.  But wait, there's a catch!  He won't do it.  You have to go back to the surgeon who put it in to have it removed.  I cried, I explained how it was messed up, I explained the trust issues, but apparently surgeons don't like touching each other's work when it comes to those stupid pain pumps.

I sat in the Walmart parking lot and cried.  But then I had to decide, cry in the parking lot or buy light bulbs and groceries.  I chose the latter.  And then I called Dr. L and left a message with the appointment desk.

But when I got home started bring the groceries in the house and took the dogs out.  In one of those out of nowhere moments, I stepped in a hole in my yard, twisted my ankle, and as I fell, heard a loud popping noise.  It was so monstrously painful, I thought I'd be lying in my yard with the dogs licking in my face for eternity.  After some time I did a kind a crawl back inside my house.  I climbed into my covers of my bed and cried.

I realized I needed an icepack for the bruising and swelling ankle and help from my safety net.  After talking to best friend sibling and mom, I could stop crying and feel better.  I was able to get a pre-surgey kind of appointment with Dr. L for April 15 at 9AM and my mom is coming with me.

Then I realized.  My black notebook.  THE NOTEBOOK.  The book I record my every thought from book notes to grocery lists.  The book that contained at that moment every important card of my life as well as cash, as missing.  My sorry, gimpy search turned up nothing.  I called Walmart.  Long story short, a wonderful employee went the extra mile for me, search cart outside, found my notebook, read my contact info inside (including reward: your soul), and saved it for me.

Since I didn't want to go to the ER last night, my gram took me to my doc today and there are no fractures, just a bad sprain.  I am so, so relieved! I will have an ankle splint and crutches (the splint for about six weeks).   Tomorrow my brother is coming over to help me with everything I need help with now.

My ankle is still kind of swollen and it still really hurts.

But Monday night I heard some super, awesome, wonderful, great news and if you want to hear it and see a picture, I suggest you head over to my bestie's blog:

http://barkers.blogspot.com/

A little more help

I figured something out while in Hawaii - I am depressed and the Cymbalta wasn't doing enough to combat the depression.  Last week I went to the doctor and got an add-on medication - Abilify.  I'm starting at a low dose and working up.

Since I started I noticed I feel better because I'm actually working toward change.  Then I had a couple of pretty good days.  Today was a bad day.  I think medications were clashing or maybe I just didn't feel well, I'm not even sure.

I've tried this medication and it's worked before.  I'm crossing my fingers that it works really well this time.

Hawaii: The Epilogue, Or...

There wasn't time for anything in Portland Friday morning other than getting on the plane, and that was fine with me.  I've been to Portland many times and all I wanted to do, all I could think about was going HOME.  I drank a lot of caffeine on the flight in preparation for my drive from Boise to home.  Once off the plane, it felt like it took ages to get my bag and then for me to walk to the back forty to where I'd parked my car.  But once I'd paid for parking, I just got on the freeway and drove.

When I got to my parents' house, everyone was still gone for the day.  I picked up my dogs, who didn't even need to be told "load up", and headed home.  This is how we roll (the stink hounds and I): the dogs must remain in the backseat, Sully sits behind me and I lower the window enough so she can put her head out of it, while Libby sits in what a good friend termed "the navigator position" with her head placed on the console in between the seats.

We were driving along, listening to music from "Glee" or something, me petting Libby as she snuggled her head against me, and I realized I'd driven into Rupert.  For a few moments I had no idea how to get to my house.  I was just in this state of bliss of being back home with my doggies, knowing I was going to see my family in an hour or so, and I had forgotten everything.  I pulled over and had to do a manual reboot of my brain.

When we were having car trouble back at the banana bread stand the cab driver remarked to me that my friend had really been zapped, but I hadn't been zapped.  I responded, "That's because I already know where I belong."

This is my favorite picture of "where I belong".  I took it this past summer.  I may not always be here, but for now, this is it:

Libby & Sully playing in the drain ditch, June 2010

Hawaii Part 5: The juju of getting off the island

Thursday was our last day on Maui and we had a 2:15PM flight to catch.  We had pre-arranged with our cab driver who had brought us over to come pick us up.  It was good to see him again.  He is one of the people I'm very grateful to have met on the trip.  We had just one stop to make on our way out of Hana, the banana bread stand.

We stopped in, traded hugs, and my friend bought all of her souvenirs she was bringing back to people.  I took a few pictures to capture the lovely Hana Farm Stand for you:

The sign refers to the award winning six kinds of banana bread they make... yummy...

When it was time to go the car wouldn't start.  Our cabbie started freaking out about getting us the two and a half hours across the island to our flight on time.  We didn't freak out for some reason.  I put in my two cents for getting a pair of jumper cables, and took a nap in the car while they worked it out.  I knew it would get worked out.  I wanted to go home, therefore it would be fixed.  (I know that sounds a bit like three year old logic.)

But I did think about all the things we'd heard about Maui.  Initially when the car wouldn't start, the friends at the banana bread stand said there was "bad juju" in the parking lot.  Cars would come (like rental cars and tour vans, etc.) and then they wouldn't start up again.  Then of course there was the well known maxim that if you take a piece of Maui off Maui, such a rock, a piece of coral, a piece of wood, you will have torturous bad luck that will lead to your very unhappy end unless you return it.

The way our guide told it, ever since the white man has tried to tame and commercialize Maui, Maui has always fought back.  It was also our guide's opinion that UFOs (he pronounced them "oo-foes") brought some of the plants and people to Maui that lived there now, landing inside the big volcano in Haleakala and now and then the UFOs still come back to check up on the stash they left behind.  He and some natives were talking about the UFOs while we were swimming in one of the pools, so I know he's not the only one who believes it.

So would I get off the island?

Cleaning the battery posts and jumping the car got us moving again.  I slept the whole way to the airport.  But we were late upon arrival.  At every security gate during our trip my pump always set off the sensors you walk through so I always got the (what I refer to as) "Second Base Pat-Down".  But in the Kahalui Airport they were too thorough and there was too much cupping and groping.  I was really upset about it (however, coming home I had a good experience in Portland and she gave me a card to use to complain to TSA).

I was doing everything but running to my gate and when I got there the plane was boarding.  I wasn't the last person on the plane, but among the last.  I felt yucky from the public grope, I had to go to the bathroom but knew I'd have to keep holding it until we were at the right altitude for peeing, and I was in pain, but the plane took off down the runway and it was a nonstop flight to Portland, and although I didn't know it at the time, there were two wonderful women waiting to look out for me and a freshly prepared bed where I'd slept like a log.

Up next: epilogue, otherwise entitled driving around town with dogs, petting their heads and forgetting where you live as you try to find your way home.

Hawaii Part 4: Seven sacred pools

We were up early because our guide was to arrive early.  I'd placed the craigslist ad the first night we stayed in Hana.  It was vague, saying two mainland girls wanted a local who could take us places we wouldn't ordinarily see and tell us things about it we wouldn't ordinarily learn.  We were just looking for someone with a reliable car, wisdom, and good energy.  That we'd found him and we getting our tour the day before we had to leave was a blessing.

Our guide arrived on "Maui Time" and he arrived in a "Maui cruiser".  And according to any other local we interacted with, this was to be expected.  In fact, anything else would have aroused suspicion.

The "Maui cruiser" - at one point the middle of the steering wheel broke off.  Our guide just shoved it in the back seat and carried on.  It reminded me of some farm vehicles I've driven.

We stopped for gas and supplies and headed down the road past Hana.  Our guide was from another part of the island, but he was "from" everywhere.  He had raised a family on the island, off the grid, and now that family lived in South Gate, CA.  That part had me saying something like, "What?  No one knows where South Gate is and for sure no one lives there."  But there it was.  We compared streets where we lived.  He never said why he was estranged from his family but what we learn later might speak to that.

First we stopped at a place on the highway where some of his friends were selling their wares.  He and some friends hung out and smoked a joint while my friend and I visited with the local merchants.

My friend checks out the braided hats and bowls.

Sharon's Elvis memorabilia - not for sale.

My friend with Sharon in front of her display.

Sharon wasn't just selling leis.  Sharon was also selling the gospel according to Elvis.  I am using her real, full name because I know she'd want me to share her message and her name here.  Share drives a black trans am with various Elvis related sayings on it.

Sharon basically believes Elvis preached the word of God and that the message is one of love and belonging.  There is more to it, but I don't want to mess up her philosophy.  She is generous, loving, and kind.  She was so open and sharing.  After sharing her message about Elvis and God with me, she gave me a lei she'd made of various shells in rainbow colors.  She told me I am a child of the rainbow, and this is what this particular kind of lei means.  It made me teary.

My lei.  I still haven't worn it.  It's just so pretty.

The drive along this highway - I think the most beautiful in the nation is actually an understatement - was slow going in the Maui Cruiser and that was perfect.  It gave my friend and our guide a chance to discuss what I will lovingly call "hippie/earth mother philosophy" and me a chance to soak in the glory of the natural world, for example:

This is actually a waterfall, but there is not enough water on Maui for commercial fruit growers, huge resorts, and waterfalls...  

We stopped at the Seven Sacred Pools located in Haleakala National Park.  The National Park is enormous, covering a large portion of the island, and it's apparently great for geologic study as it's all volcanic.  The Seven Sacred Pools were formed through volcanic activity and waterfalls dumping fresh water into one pool then then next, etc. until the last mixes out with the ocean.  Our guide told us there are many other pools, just not where we can access.

Our talked to us about different areas in the park and the different things some of the names meant, etc.  He told us old stories of the way things were decades ago and then even before that, giving us a glimpse of some of the old ways.

I think our tour guide's stories were a lot more peppery than the stories told by the stodgy, white tour guides who got off shuttles leading people down trails who complained aloud, "Is this going to be worth it?" 

I'm going to tell the next bit of the day with pictures and you'll understand why I looked at the woman who asked that and said, "Are you kidding me?"  And yes, I had to do it.

To actually get in and swim in one of the pool, you had to hike down some rocks and then around more rocks and little pools of water.  But I was wearing my "adventure shoes" (they're kind of like hiking shoes, only not high-tops) so I was ready.  We hiked over and got in the water.  Our guide climbed up, decided the water was high enough, and jumped.  My friend and I just swam around in the bracing, cool fresh water.  The water made every part of my body it touched feel good.  The water was special.  And out of all the people who came there that day, few made it down the trails to the pools, and even fewer actually got into the water).  I learned along time ago that one should probably always get in the water.

We took some time to sit on some grass and watch the ocean from a hill.  It was spiritually nourishing.  

I just got out of the pool and I was feeling both overwhelmed and refreshed.

This was the actual pool we swam in - it got pretty deep.

I don't remember the name of the place we went next, or why, or the significance.  I just remember the guide talking and talking and my friend talking and talking.  The next picture documents it.  I'm sure it was important, but I was so overwhelmed, I was climbing inside myself, wanting to just write everything down I was feeling and seeing.  He gave us a lesson on what some words mean.  I only wrote these two down for some reason.

Mana means big spirit, big power

Ponopono means the biggest I'm sorry ever, or as the guide put it "forgive me for some bad s---" and when pronounced, there should be emphasis on the last syllable, almost a whine.

See that grassy area at the bottom left, I went and rested on it while the guide and my friend contemplated mother nature and various other philosophy.

We went to our guide's friend's house for lunch.  His friend "N" owned a lot of land just on the outskirts of the national park and she had apparently invited us when we had made our first stop and he had smoked out with her and her boyfriend (or whatever).  She was the most gracious host.  She called me sister and made sure I sat down with everyone, brought me a green tea soda beverage they have there on the island, and immediately got to work chopping up fruit for us while asking us about our day.  It was absolutely lovely because we were sitting in her outdoor kitchen and the air was perfect and all the different fruit she placed before us had grown on her land.

Our host's outdoor kitchen - homey, serving delicious eats, especially the pineapple.

It turned out her entire place was off grid, self-sustainable (although they did have cell phones). Everything was it's own building.  There was an outhouse, a bedroom, several little cottages she said she used to rent out to people, and a couple more buildings.  They clearly had to work hard to keep the jungle back so they could maintain some sort of yard, with a clothesline and veggie patch, and oh, did I mention about a dozen dogs.  Two dogs had puppies and they kept trying to give them away.

Our host called our guide "uncle" but I don't think they were related. I think it has something more to do with a term or endearment or respect, but I'm not sure. He gave us a little tour of their property.  He told us about how when he lived there, one day a helicopter flew over the sky and suddenly a man with in a DEA jacket dropped down from it.  He looked at the marijuana growing at his feet and the larger quantity in the grow house, but he and our guide were the same color, so he picked up a couple of dead plants and shouted up to the helicopter, "Nothing here." And the DEA man was pulled back up inside the helicopter and they moved on.

The next day we were on a plane and didn't have seats together.  When we got off the plane, my friend told me she sat next to a couple of women who used to live there.  They knew of our guide and our lunch host.  Apparently it wasn't too long ago they'd been busted for manufacturing and selling methamphetamine.  We knew our guide was a felon and we figured it was related to drugs somehow.  But it was disappointing to hear it was meth.  When I heard this the first thing I thought was, "Well, it would explain their teeth."

Meth is a horrible drug that destroys people, I've seen it with family members.  I don't know the details or if it's true.  I do know that when the woman renting our room out to us came by and saw our guide hanging out with us, she was really startled and he decided pretty instantly to leave.

Whatever our lunch host does for a living, she was a kind, generous host, who took two people she didn't know into her home, treated us like family, served us delicious food, and nourished our spirits as well.  I'll take that at face value.  And I don't know the full story about our guide.  He was evasive enough so we wouldn't know.  But he went the extra mile in giving us the day of local color we were search for and we learned much.  I'll take that at face value as well.

Hawaii Part 3: A hitchhiker’s guide to Hana

It was unfortunate that my travel companion felt that any decision I made that was different than what she wanted to do meant I wasn’t enjoying the island.  It translated to me not spending Tuesday morning writing to the noiseless beat of the energy of Hana driving me to write, write, write.  It did mean a different kind of adventure.

My first hitchhiking lesson.  We walked toward a new beach we wanted to explore, stopping to stick our thumbs in the air accompanied by hopeful grins.  In about five minutes time an older man picked us up and took us to the general vicinity of the red sand beach.  We walked around looking for this beach that was supposedly different from the others – namely it was red – but also known for its coral and snorkeling.  Instead we found a resort that fenced and gated off all access to any beach.  

About as close to the other beach as I could get.

We gave up and went back to Hana Bay.  When we got hungry we ate at an outdoor Thai food place that had some of the best Thai iced tea I ever had (hence why I document it here) and some pretty good Pad Thai (my standard by which to judge all Thai restaurants).  While eating I got a call from someone who’d answered the craigslist ad I’d placed the day before asking for a local guide.  It would be fortuitous, but more on that tomorrow. 

Best. Thai. Iced. Tea. Ever.

The kitchen - a lot of the kitchens in Hana were semi-outdoor, I noticed.

The surfboards announced the specials and if they were open!

After lunch we went our separate ways, with "A" going with her friend to try another way to hike into the red sand beach and me going into town in hopes of mailing my postcards and finding the local art gallery.  We were each successful.  She did some major hiking and found what she was looking for, and I mailed my postcards. 

Then I did some exploring around Hana.  The first thing I notices was there are more churches in Hana than anything else.  Next to the post office was a gift shop.  It was a strange shop, stocked to the ceiling with random merchandise, some of which were everyday items with the word “Hana” hand written on them after the fact. 

The art gallery was amazing.  The local art ranged from minimalism to sculpture to portraiture to photography.  I took my time and enjoyed every quiet step.  It’s just something I like to do when I visit somewhere.  I must check out the local art gallery or museum.  It’s as if by doing such you get to know the people and the place that much more.

Exploring downtown Hana...

Just outside the art gallery.

These were some gorgeous sculptures outside the gallery.

I finally headed home, aching and in need of somewhere comfortable to sit.  But I had to hitch a ride.  I started walking down the Hana Highway.  At first I focused more on taking pictures than on getting a ride.  But then the pain got worse and I got serious.  It took some time, but a mother with a little one in the back seat picked me up.  She was on her way to the library and my lodging was right before the library.

I may have been hitchhiking, but I had a pretty great view!

That night I cooked seared ahi and my napa cabbage salad for dinner.  I couldn’t slice it up on a plate a serve it pretty like in the restaurants because the knives in our kitchen left much to be desired, but trust me, it was perfectly raw in the middle and divine.  

My rare, rare cooking.  You can't see it well, but that ahi was delish!

I went to sleep knowing our guide would be there early to pick us up the next morning.  We’d managed to track down a local who was also some sort of natural healer, personal trainer, and massage therapist.  We’d find out so much more.  And there will be good reasons to not use names relating portions of this tale....

Hawaii Part 2: Hana is the tourist-bypassed paradise, whew

Waking up Monday morning in Hana was a feeling of mixed blessings.  I was still in recovery from the adventure from the night before and all I wanted to do was take painkillers and sleep, and yet there was this vast, beautiful island to explore.  My friend made a gorgeous breakfast spread that included fresh pineapple, strawberry-papaya, grapes, mangoes, and grapefruit.

It really was a picture worthy breakfast...

While my friend went exploring, I took that nap I needed until I could talk to people from home.  My mom was hosting a baby shower for my SIL (I was supposed to help but had left her high and dry in putting it together) and I missed it and my gram had surgery the day I’d left and I’d barely had time to say goodbye to her in the hospital.  It was comfortable to putter around our little home away from home and connect with the people I love.  And while I'm on the topic, here’s what it looked like:

Here is our little kitchen.  It was bright and cheery and loaded with fresh, tropical fruit!

And our bedroom.  Sparse, simple, comfy.

The bathroom was decent with this whole other side you could use as a closet.

I finally made my way down to Hana Bay, a beautiful beach accessible for swimmers and loungers, via one of the daughters of the people who own the rentals where we were staying.  I met my friend there, who had spent the morning with friends from the mainland who are currently living in Hana on a farm, making banana bread for room and board.

The water wasn’t cold and it wasn’t warm.  It was just right.  I loved standing and feeling the waves as they crested, right before they began to break near the shore.  I loved lying on my back and letting my hair absorb the salty brine of ocean water.

Hana Bay

Hanging out in Hana Bay... I ended up spending a lot of time doing this.

When we were ready to go, our neighbors who were staying in the place next door took us with them up to the Hasewega General Store, a store where one can buy random, random things, and then brought us home. 

The general store - and they do mean general in the most literal sense of the word.

That night the friends staying on the island came over for a lovely dinner my traveling companion had cooked – fresh mahi mahi, brown rice pilaf with local fruits, kale, mixed greens with botanical edible flowers, and homemade ice cream from the farm where these friends work, made just that day with herbs grown on their farm.  Our neighbors (who were these interesting Canadians!) came by later for drinks.  I laughed so much that night.

Hanging out with new friends.  And you know what - everybody seems to know my sister!

This was Monday, a great low-key day for meeting people and getting to know Hana.  Here are a few more experiences from the day that stick with me, just snapshots of life, something the island, but specifically Hana, is teaming with!

Gorgeous blue flowers that grow linked together in a vine.  The color is incredible and rare in nature.  I thought they were the couture of all flowers.

A little albino gecko climbed about the outside of our house.  It was hard to get his pictures because it was a fast little guy.

Hawaii Part 1: There's no place like home, a story from the other side

I am chronicling my Maui vacation encounters starting tonight, the night back from the island, staying here in Portland, Oregon at some friends' house. They weren't my friends a few hours ago.  Now they are and I think that is mostly because of one thing: my sister.  These women have met or worked with my sister is some way in her life and have so loved her that they treat me like they would treat her.  One gave up her bed and room for my comfort and the other is taking me to the airport tomorrow.  I cannot wait to be home.  I long for home.

And so for this tale, though it is long and verbose, the theme is one written by Anne Frank: "Despite everything, I believe that people are really good at heart. "  I've had a glimpse of something very good.  I've been to a place with a tangible energy different from any other I've ever been.  I've met people and had experiences that opened my heart in ways it hadn't been in years.  There is no hyperbole here.

I wrote the following on Sunday, February 6, but had internet challenges while in Hana and haven't been able to post until coming back to the mainland.  Ah, well.  It will give me lots and lots to do... 

The best view of our hotel of the first night.

Aloha!

Here's my quickie update from Maui!  This is our (as in me and my friend "A") second day in Hawaii.  We flew in yesterday  and stayed in a hotel with a story.  It was called the Maui Beach Hotel.  The only part of that is accurate was the Maui part.  All info on the internet was a complete lie.  The funny part is that when we brought any of this up to staff, they never denied it.  That aspect cracked me up. The so-called beach front access was to a harbor with industrial business around it.  Sketchy.  But I put my feet in the water.  We swam in the pool (open only from 10AM to 5PM) and then later caught a local band at somewhat nearby bar - I say that because we walked in circles to get there.  The band was great.  Earlier a local had told us where to go for authentic Hawaiian, a place called the Kitchen, which was basically mounds of meat!

This was our lunch at The Kitchen, so much meat!  You can kind of see the weird spam-roll we tried!

We decided we needed more nature, fewer buildings and people.  After talking with more locals we decided to head far, far from Kahalui where we were staying and found out about Hana.  We found a cabbie willing to make the two hour drive across the island.  He was a unique soul and was a tremendous tour guide.  The ride was so scenic and beautiful.  It was worth coming to Hana just for that drive.

A stop on the road to Hana.

Hana is a small community devoid of touristy shit and mostly just locals.  It's just the real deal and it is amazing.  What's even more amazing is that we had no reservations and I basically just starting calling everywhere this morning and found a studio condo with a full kitchen for a ridiculously low rate.  Our set up is a bit rustic, but it is perfect.  We stopped at Whote Foods on our way out and stocked up on fresh produce - mostly mangos and pineapple - as well as freshly caught fish.  We are set up but there are also stands everywhere selling produce, breads, candy, ice cream,etc.  Amazing.

We stayed back behind all this jungle!  It was a family run place.  Simple and good.

But tonight we went walking to look for a beach and ended up walking for about four hours.  We walked by a landfill.  Really the prettiest I've ever seen.  But after an hour or so, I was shaking with pain.  The jungle was amazing.

A picture during our random wanderings...

At one point I put my feet in the water to cool them off.  Wandering around in the jungle in the near-dark in flip-flops in inadvisable.  Just so you know...

When we finally made it to the ocean we decided to at least enjoy it for a moment.  It was dark, but the sound of the forever constant, caressing waves was soothing and calming to this lost girl.

In the end, we saw a light turn our way in the dark of night and a French-Canadian man with a wonderful accent took us back home led us out of the jungle toward the highway.  It was dark and I considered laying flat on the highway and intentionally getting run over, but we assured him we'd hitchhike a ride back to our hotel.  (Note: for those concerned at this point, hitch hiking is very safe and common in Hana and will be a recurring theme in these entries.)

When we were walking down the road, he pulled up with his car and gave us a ride back.  We've made friends and tomorrow we are meeting up with him and his girlfriend for drinks.  He was our Good Samaritan.  He had just made it into town after a two to three hour drive on one of the most beautiful most dangerous highways in the US (they make lots of souvenirs that say "I survived the Hana Highway"), his girlfriend was very sick, he was very tired, but he did this for us.  It was very touching.

There is such good energy here and we are meeting lovely, beautiful people.  I've never had such experiences.

PS Any and all of you who still keep up on reading this blog should know that while I'm posting pictures here, I have TONS more really, really good ones and I'm going to show them on my TV at the party you all informed me I was going to have upon my return.  Nothing is spoiled by my posting pictures here.  In fact, it might just whet your appetite for the pictures and stories and Hana grown coffee and pineapple upside down cake I'm serving.

PPS Coming up next: new, local friends, cooking amazing fresh fish and fruit, Hana Bay Beach, the craigslist guide named Loni, Haleakala National Park, Seven Sacred Pools, the woman who derives her spirituality from Elvis and presented me with a lei and made me cry, and the sustainable landowners who invited us to their sanctuary who we later found out survive by their misc involvement in the drug trade.  And my very first hitchhiking by myself (she was a mom taking her daughter to the library, so don't worry mom).

And that is soooooo not all... :)

It can be overwhelming when there is so much beauty around in the natural world...

And just for fun, this is the kind of hair I want every single day.  Now to recreate Maui sun, humidity, and ocean water.  Good thing my SIL has some ideas... I am firmly in love with my Maui hair!