Thursday, December 21, 2006

Laundromats

When I was in college and had to do my own laundry (which was a rarity!) I went to the nearest laundromat. It had the usual collection of randomly aged washers and dryers, really comfortable orange couches, a tv, plants. It was nice. It was a nice way to spend a few hours.

My experience here has not been so rosy. The laundromat has banks of washers and dryers of course, no seating except outside where the smokers and terribly off-key hippies pollute any semblance of relaxations with yuck. It is not enjoyable. Plus, we live in a rainforest so it rains at least for a few seconds every time we're in there so it makes sitting outside even less enjoyable. Today, the hippies singing Bob-Dylan off-key and their kids whose teeth were rotting out of their mounts was more than I could handle!

some flowers


Friday, December 15, 2006

Toxoplasmosis

I also learned yesterday at the doctor's office that I have toxoplasmosis, albeit at low levels. I can't understand this because I've been paranoid about getting it and have avoided the cats completely. But it turns out that the disease can even be airborne - I never had a chance. Hope the baby isn't screwed up, though the nurse assured me it wouldn't be? What's the point? Why do they get pregnant women all worked up about cats anyway?

Rh-

Raph and I went to my doctor's appointment yesterday and found out that his blood type is Rh- which is awesome I think because that means I don't have to have those wierd shots they give you. The doctor was shocked and said that in all the years he's been practicing he's only had a handful of couples who are both Rh-. He told me I had picked the right guy!

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Pam Berry

So we had dinner at our friend Dan's last night. He lives in a pavilion, not a house at all as there are no walls, just a roof. Needless to say eating there after sundown is a mosquito-ridden affair, plus the bees as they have their hives 25 feet from the pavilion. Anyhow, Dan joined us for Thanksgiving, where he was introduced to the greatest of all games - celebrity. He insisted on playing three times in fact, until finally I drew the line and said I'm going to bed. Well, he made sure there would be four of us there last night so that celebrity could continue. He invited another teacher, Pam Berry, a 50-some year old lady with the thickest Georgia accent I have ever heard. Pam has had a tough life, left several abusive men, suffered through a terrible divorce which precipitated a random move with her son from chilly Georgia to sunny Hawaii. Pam likes to drink and smoke and swear and she was very entertaining thoughout the night, particularly as the white zinfandel dwindled in the bottle. She promised to throw a baby luau for our unborn child (this is a Hawaii tradition and a big deal here!) And called everyone a bitch about 47 times while playing celebrity. She did a fairly hilarious charade of the indian chief, Sitting Bull. Anyway, my thoughts dwell on her so I thought I share.

vitamins

So, I've officially given up on the prescribed vitamins for pregnant ladies. After I puked the pill up a few times it dawned on me - how can this possibly be good for me if I am puking it up? Can it really be that good if my body is rejecting it? Don't worry, I've been taking Flinstones instead which seem to have enough of all the important stuff without over-doing it. I felt guilty for a minute like doctors must know what my baby needs, but alas I've decided that's a farce. My body knows better than any doctor what it needs and I'm going to listen to it.

Friday, December 01, 2006

kitty portrait




This is our stupid cute kitty who kills all the mice and I won't allow in the house because I'm afraid of toxoplasmosis. Oh well.

Sunday, November 26, 2006

camping with kids



A few weeks ago we went camping with another teacher, our friend Dan, and a half dozen 7-9th grade boys. For one thing, I forget what boys are like at that age, without girls around. Or maybe I never knew. In any case, we slept in our car, while the boys raged all night long, fueled by mountain dew and freedom. They toilet-papered eachothers' tents, pulled pranks, climbed trees and threw bark at eachother, scaled coconut trees, etc. Being pregnant, they exhausted me. I laid in the car, amused but aware of how different boys and girls are. Our friend Dan is a saint for volunteering his time (four days, three nights) to take those boys out for camping and bodyboarding. Here is a shot of him body boarding at dead trees, a notorious Big Island surf spot, where screwing up can give you "tattoos" - or scars from where the lava rock claws you. Looked fun when he was doing it.

Friday, November 24, 2006

some Thanksgiving pics.



Raph and Isaac wrestling coconuts out of the tree. And Raph cooking Thanksgiving delights, while Isaac stares at the ceiling.

new digs

coming clean

I haven't been blogging for a while now because there was so much going on in my life. You may remember we were about to buy a new house when last I blogged. Well, no longer. Instead we're having a baby! And have moved off the grid into a fabulous house with incredible views and great mana (Hawaiian for good energy!) Here's a picture. Whew...now that that is out, I can start blogging again. End of June - a baby - hard to believe.

Saturday, October 28, 2006

My Parents are Criminals

My parents have recently discovered ebay. They've been buying stuff from ebay forever, but recently they discovered selling on ebay. They're thinking of selling their house in a few years and recognize that it will be will take at least a few years to get rid of everything in it. So in earnest they've been selling. Unfortunately, they don't always ask me before they start selling things. They put some chairs up for sale that I wanted. There were two auctions of the chairs, so I ended up having to outbid everyone so that I won because we didn't know how to stop an auction.

Yeah, well on ebay that's illegal. It's called shill bidding and my parents infant company got shut down. We're cut off of ebay. MY mother is horrified. She called me at midnight her time (8:00 is her normal bed time) because she was so upset about it she couldn't sleep. She is really embaressed! I think it is actually pretty funny. Everytime I call and they're not home, I tell her I assume the cops have come to get her!

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

parent conferences

Today was the first of three days of parent conferences. Not in the vein you might be thinking of but instead a cafeteria full of teachers with no real organization and only about half with name tages. Parents could come in and pick up report cards with or without their students, then go around and speak to teachers. I have about 75 students. Five parents came to talk to me today. We'll see how many tomorrow.

The highlight of this event was when the ladies over at the ESL table shrieked and screamed in an unbelievably loud tone. A RAT! Nothing better than a rat running through the cafeteria at a parent-teacher conference. That was pretty much the funniest thing, in a sad and embarressing sort of way, that has occurred in some time.

Saturday, October 21, 2006

nenes and silence

Raph and I took a hike today (sorry we forgot the camera) in a part of the national park we'd never been to, down Hilina Pali Road. It was foggy and drizzling, and the Ohia trees were sparse among the native grasses and shrubs. We walked for not too long about an hour, over crumbling lava, grassy fields and gnarled trees. It was lovely. I commented to Raph that the silence was so nice. And I'm not sure what about this place seemed silent. I guess that is a funny thing to say, but I feel like we are often by ourselves and often in the woods or by the water, but it just doesn't seem as silent as it was today. I even felt like our presence was quiet. A wierd feeling sort of. Anyway it was lovely. We saw two nene geese, which are endangered, though we used to see lots of them on Maui. They only live in Hawaii so it isn't too suprising that they're endangered. The feathers on their necks had been clumped, as though by running water, like sand. They made low mooing cow sounds at us as they plucked grasses to eat. It was really pleasant.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Earthquake

First: for any one that is wondering, we are fine.

Second: for anyone that is wondering, it did scare the crap out of me, never having been in an earthquake before. When I was completing my blog last night, I was thinking, what the hell am I am going to write about tomorrow. Well I got the answer early this morning. I had been up for over an hour, getting all of our paper-work in order and opening mail. Piles of papers were all over the table and I was running back and forth looking for ones I needed. The glass door to my right made a funny sound, like someone had thrown something against it. I looked up expecting to see a bird laying on the ground and as I did, the floor under me began to shake more and more. It didn't take long - a few seconds - for it to dawn on me that this was an earthquake. Raph was still in bed and I ran to him, screaming the whole way. I was scared. He was getting out of bed when I ran in, and I screamed that he had to get into the doorway - that's what you need to do in an earthquake. (Where the hell did I learn this?) He laughed at my fear. And then it ended. And I took a giant breath.

Saturday, October 14, 2006

sleeping in cars (without boys)

I had training in Kona for the last three days. I have officially missed a quarter of the schools days for the first quarter! I heard it through the grape vine that I get a daily stipend of 80 bucs whether I spend it or not. So I think to myself immediately, "I'm sleeping in my car." It's amazing how freaked out people get about sleeping in your car. The truth is I love it. I don't know what it is about sleeping in my car I like so much - maybe it is the river guide in me. I love curling up in my car on a deadend street. Towels stuck in the windshield to block out strong lights. Listening for the first minutes to every sound wondering if someone is coming to tell me to move. Waking up at first light, before all the residents are up. I really do like it.

But noone else I work with or attended training with seemed to think this was wise. Another teacher at training offered me the extra bed in her hotel room and made such a stink about it, I finally accepted. It was a terrible hotel, which I might have excused, if it hadn't have been for the teachers ripping roaring snoring. An hour of laying in the bed waiting, wishing to fall asleep was enough, before I retreated to my comfy rental car. And slept wonderfully, sweetly. Un underrated activity I say.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

more front yard




If you look closely at the second picture, you can see a fisherman on the point. Gives you perspective I think.

on our new front lawn


Our new favorite pasttime is sitting in these white chairs we bought at a garage sale and watching the ocean. Raph saw dolphins the other day while I was on a walk. Damn him. But every time we see turtles and crabs, and sometimes schools of fish in the shallow water. It's pretty much awesome. Even if a tsunami knocks my house down, I'll have been able to sit by the water, and watch sunrises most days!

Saturday, October 07, 2006

the crash

Raph will tell you if you ask. I cry a lot. I don't think it is that much, but compared to him I do cry a lot (not a difficult feat considering I haven't ever seen him cry.) My departure from Pittsburgh was like removing one of those really sticky bandaids and I cried a lot, for leaving my home with permanence, knowing that this time I wouldn't be coming back.

But after the 18 hours of travel, my tears had dried and I was excited about a new adventure. I did pretty well. No bouts of crazy emotions. No tearful episodes about how I miss my mother. I did miss my mother. But I didn't cry about it. Not for months. And then they came. My parents. Unobtrusively, without imposing, which is their way.

Boy was I glad to see them. They took US on vacation even though they were visiting us. We spend days at the Puako beaches on the other side of the island, sunning ourselves, watching turtles and fish, playing bridge. And when we'd had our sun limit, we returned to rainy magical Puna, and shared the stars above Mauna Kea, the tide pools at Kapoho, the red road, quaint Hilo, and of course our new house. Then we shopped for furniture and played more bridge. Raph even was dealt 32 points in one hand. We ate well, and laughed a lot. And then they left.

And that little cut under the sticky bandaid resurfaced and I haven't stopped crying since.

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Wednesday, September 27, 2006



Signing our life away

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

number crunching

On Friday, we signed accepted the seller's counter offer for the house of Raph's dream. Jason, Raph's cousin, came along and jovially snapped pictures of us signing the forms and it was a jolly time, exciting.

Yesterday was a different story. We sat the with the loan officer for two hours and watched her fill out our loan application. Perhaps she didn't think we could do it on our own. I am more prone to believe that she just liked her own handwriting and wanted the application to be nice and neat. In any case it was excrutiating. We've talked to several loan officers. They all seem off, either shady or disgruntled, or something. This lady, bordered on rude. When we bought vacant land a year ago, she wrote the loan. When we considered a second lot, she'd say things like, "we don't want to be greedy now!" Yesterday she said things like, "Oh, that seems like a lot of money for a house out there." (I feel even now like I have to defend myself and tell you that actually it is a very good price for a house right near the water like this one.) Yesterday was not nearly so fun and jovial. In fact, I hope never to have pictures of myself with any loan officer.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Our course is set.

For better or worse, our course is set. We have an accepted offer on a house near the ocean in Hawaii. Come what may - lava, tsunami, hurricane, blue skies, friendly gales, friends and family - our course for the moment is set.

We went and biked around the neighborhood at dusk the other night, listened to the croaking of the coqui frogs all around, listened to the waves crashing, sat on the porch and let the wind play with my hair, tickle my eyes. My favorite thing about this house is by far the wind. It is constant and light, coming across 2500 miles of open ocean to kiss me. I can imagine the wind out of some Greek myth, arms outstetched reaching for me in Hawaii, hurling itself along, impatient.

Monday, September 18, 2006

Sunday, September 17, 2006

The Dry Cleaners (also from the writing workshop)

The Dry Cleaners

“You’re going to be working for the rest of your life. Why don’t you spend your free time with your friends or at the pool or something,” my mom offered. She didn’t get it. I desperately wanted a job, and for no particular reason. I wasn’t trying to make money. I just wanted a job. I considered having a job to be a great adventure, a sign of something. I wasn’t sure of what.

My friend Christina Kefalos, who brought me to Greek Conventions even though I wasn’t Greek, and who had the attention of every boy in the school, told me I could work with her at the dry cleaners. Thrifty Dry Cleaners paid $4.25 per hour and workers signed up for shifts. The deal was sealed. I was their newest employee.

The following month I headed to work, through the hole in the fence and across the tracks, stopping to feel the track for train vibrations and leaving a penny to get smooshed after I’d left. Sometimes I worried that I’d derail a train that way, but treasured the flattened metal too much to stop. I maneuvered through the fat gravel on the side of the road and hopped over the cement barrier into the middle of Edgewood Avenue.

Thrifty Dry Cleaners didn’t do the actual washing or pressing or whatever it was that they did to clothes in our store. A white van would come and take the carefully tagged clothes away and bring them back “cleaned” the following day. I was always doubtful that they did any actual cleaning of those clothes, instead suspecting that they put them on hangers, pressed them, covered them with bags and sent them back, since no stains ever seems to come out and clothes never really looked cleaner.

I learned a lot about stains at Thrifty’s. We were never allowed to tell a customer that a stain wouldn’t come out, but rather we were told to encourage them to “give it a try – you never know.” Well I knew. Those stains never came out. There were stains the workers learned to avoid. The biggest hazard to a worker at Thrifty’s were the pants of the “freeballers,” the fat men (most of the time) who without exception had stains on the insides of their pants. We went to extreme lengths to avoid contact with those pants, and tried our best to pin the little red and yellow tags to the waistband without touching the actual fabric.

The freeballers weren’t the only people who left the workers unsolicited surprises. The local drug dealers were a constant source of conversation between workers, due to the baggies of marijuana and wads of money left in pockets. We would all try to outdo others’ stories of treasures found by embellishing on the amounts of our finds or speculating about the owner. We commonly debated whether or not to keep money found in pockets. It was generally agreed upon that money less than ten or twenty dollars could be pocketed. Some of us returned such amounts anyway, to make customers happy. The issue was far more complicated when the sums grew over $100 or $200. We sometimes argued for keeping half, but reasoned the customer would then know the remainder had been taken. Christina convinced me that if we returned it, that would be an act of kindness, but we were not obligated to do so. So, mostly we returned the money, save a few dollars here and there, but grappled with the choice over an over again. Sometimes we’d take turns getting slush puppies from the convenience store next door with our found money, trying to outdo eachother with awful combinations of flavors – raspberry banana, blueberry grape, or the rainbow, which included every flavor all mixed together. In the end, they all pretty much tasted the same, even though they turned you lips and tongue different colors.

A major perk of working at Thrifty’s was that you were given a key to the store. Christina and I would occasionally sneak into the store after dark, because we knew it was wrong, that the cops were sure to catch us our after Edgewood’s community curfew of 10:00pm, which was broadcast by an exceedingly loud mounting whistle, that also alerted the volunteer fire department of a fire. We would enter and turn the light in the back room on, try on forgotten and neglected clothes. The store’s policy stated that Thrifty’s was not responsible for clothes left at the cleaners for more than three months. They never threw them away either, so we’d wait for the three month mark and then make them ours for our own personal fashion shows. Ridiculous prom dresses with puffy sleeves, too much toole, and terribly ugly cuts, were favorites. We also liked the gaudy wedding dresses, polyester shirts in browns and blues from the 70’s, and bell-bottom pants. Occassionally, we’d try on newer clothes and try to figure out which of our customers were closest in size. Sometimes we’d give them away to friends for Halloween, hoping that noone would ever come and pick them up.

They never did I suppose. Our clientele wasn’t the swiftest. We’d watch “the purse” from the big store front window on most days. She was a gaunt black lady, whose clothes never seemed to fit her right, clinging awkwardly to the wrong parts of her body, like a wet piece of clothing. She wore white pumps every day and puffy colored socks at the same time. She’d stand on the edge of the parking lot swinging her purse the way a lifeguard swings a whistle, eyeing each car that passed her. We were never sure what it was that she was doing there. Some speculated that she was trying to be a hooker. I doubted. She seemed lonely and crazy to me, and yet sure of her self at the same time. I speculated that she had lost a lover in our parking lot and would come every day to visit that memory, which was interrupted by every passing car.

Another favorite customer was Mr. Mom, who pushed a baby carriage through the parking lot, into the convenience store for a Kit Kat a couple times a week, and almost always on Saturdays, my usual work day. Very occasionally, he’d push the carriage into Thrifty’s to drop off baby clothes for cleaning. It was at these times, we’d choke back our laughter and try with all seriousness to comment on the cuteness of his “baby,” the plastic doll in his carriage. He never seemed to pay much attention to us, or catch our teasing. Sometimes I’d feel bad for Mr. Mom, wanting to understand him better, understand why he carried that doll around and chose not to hear our snickering, but I never told the worker that.

Working at Thrifty’s involved signing up for shifts, and after a year I signed up less and less. I’m not sure what had lit the fire inside of me to start working, but my mom was right, I have been working ever since. I do know that I learned a lot about stains, ethics, and strangers from Thrifty’s, lessons which I am still drawing upon now. I pause for ketchup down my white t-shirt and sometimes I pause to swing my purse in the parking lot, eyeing every car that passes.

Friday, September 15, 2006

The Suicide Run

We had to write a poem at our training today and I sort of liked mine. It was based on the structure of a poem by Mary Oliver called The Summer Day.

The Suicide Run

Who brought the snow?
Who laid it gently - an invitation?
Who made the hills?
This hill - I mean
The one who beckons my father,
The one who calls to us to test our luck, sleds in hand,
Who is waiting with trees like hair,
Who is gaping, mouth open under walls.
Now she smiles, sunlight illuminating the pores and rocks of her complexion.
Now she calls again and my dad slides away - down.
I don't know what other families are like.
I do know how to follow him, how to wait for his magic,
How to be awed and surprised, how to expect wonder and fear and wonder again,
Which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything change and too soon?
Tell me what is it that you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

about running

So I hate running. I hate running enough that I've created theories about why I'm a bad runner. Want to hear my favorite theory? My theory is that as a child dominant muscles form, based on the kinds of activities you participate in. For example, I spent most of my childhood swimming and feel I could swim for miles, presumably because my muscles had swimming as their major formative force. Other people who spend a lot of time running around and participating in sports have a whole different set of muscles formed. So this of course explains why running is so difficult for me and I hate it so much.

Having said that Raph and I are getting fat, mostly because his cousin Deanna has been cooking for us since we arrived in Hawaii. Quite seriously, I've never had so many different kinds of great food - Vietnemese (which she happens also to be), Mexican, Italian, Thai, Indian. Just thinking about it makes me fatter. So Raph convinced me to start running with him. At 5:00 AM. Ouch, you might be thinking, but in fact that is my favorite part of the running game, getting up for first light, when it is cool and sensitive outside.

Today was our third day. I'm only running half a mile, but my God it feels like an eternity. Then I walk that same distance or more back. And I have to say it feels good. I am energized for the whole morning, in a way that my cherished cup of coffee doesn't even afford. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I kind of liked it today. Hopefully it will last at least as long as this blog.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

moonlight on a lava field





It's Raph's birthday weekend and so I get no say in what we do. That's our deal. No compromising on your birthday weekend. So Raph made me stay up late. At about 10:00, we drove to Kalapana, which borders the most recent lava flows, the ones that tourists regularly photograph with the speed limit signs sticking out of the lava. Raph needed to know if you could see the lava on the hillside from this side of the lava flow. Sure enough it lit up the hillside and turned the clouds orange. More impressive than that was the silver sheen of the lava, reflection of a plump moon, so bright, we had moon shadows. We scuttled along as Raph set up the tripod and took painfully long to snap a picture. (I am not known for patience.) But soon my tendencies to fall asleep and my impatience with his pace faded, and the three of us (Raph's cousin Jason was also there) were having a grand old time taking ghost pictures in the lava. We did the old flashlight tricks, though I only posted the "LOVE" shot, not Jason's "FUCKER" shots. And the whole thing reminded me of days gone by, times in college or at the beach in Rhode Island, when boredom was the mother of invention and entertainment and beautiful landscapes the medium of our art.

Friday, September 08, 2006

Thursday, September 07, 2006

The Big Knot






I spent a wonderful week at home. I got short visits with lots of good friends and spent some wonderful time with my family. My friends Evan and Ben tied the knot and it was beautiful and lots of fun. Here are some pics from the event.

I am now fascinated by weddings. I love photographing them, but the whole ritual is pretty amazing. I justified some pretty silly things "because it was my wedding." Then at the wedding we said our vows, and I felt, "wow, that was it!" And then there was complete exhaustion trying to spend time with all people who made their way into the middle of Yosemtie to be present. (We have friends in Hawaii who have threatened to get married on top of a glacier in the middle of Alaska that will require us to take a helicopter, a dog sled, hike three miles and swim through icy water just as retaliation.) I go back and forth between thinking that weddings are over the top and thinking that they are great chances to celebrate eachother and see friends and family. I loved Evan's wedding. At the moment I'm leaning towards the latter.

Saturday, August 26, 2006

The Way to Start a Day


The other day I was picking out children's books for my sister-in-law who is due in January. These books were used and ragged, but there were many classics - Goodnight Moon, On the Day you Were Born, Eric Carle bookes, etc. I happened across one which is now my new favorite children's book: The Way to Start A Day. The book is a basically about greeting the sun each morning - actually singing a song to celebrate the sun. It talks about how several ancient societies welcomed the sun each morning, always turning their faces towards the sun and singing a little song (that might be some poetic license taken by the author, but still cool).

So, I got Raph out of bed this morning at 5:30 and we went to the shoreline to greet the sun. In near dark, we drove past the house we're considering buying and headed on to the shore. Everytime I've gone to watch a sunrise, I get anxiety that I am going to miss it. The sky starts lighting up, and I think, "I'm missing it. I'm missing it." But we get there and sure enough we haven't missed it and we can greet the sun! Today wasn't a spectacular sunrise, but it didn't matter. To watch the light crawl up the coastline and lie down is pretty great. And Raph laughed at me, but I made him sing a little song.

Friday, August 25, 2006

ready for renewal

At the moment, my roomates are gushing about the details of Snakes on a Plane. They claim it's worth the hype. My mind is more taken with the undulations of sound coming from my mini. I so rarely get to listen to music anymore. Though I deserve it today. My mind is overtaxed, my body uncomfortable from a lack of movement. I yearn to run and swim, but it's dark and I'm lazy. The only realistic option is a walk, and it is so dark out here I wouldn't be able to tell if there were any of those super-creepy centipedes about to crawl onto my leg and send me into a state of agony. Here come the centipede nightmares again.

Tomorrow I go home - all 5,000 miles away. Travel is so much about renewal. Remembering what you return to. Putting things into perspective. This travel involves a wedding, a union, but also a reunion with friends I haven't seen in years. There are quabbles about dress colors, and responsibilities, but I know these things will melt away when we share the same space (as opposed to cyber space where the gripes grow like the Hawaiian ferns that climb the fence outside). These people know a slice of me unknown to others. We shared a time, an era, forever gone, except in our memories.

I have often described the bride, my friend evan, as the most nostalgic person I know. She is a sucker for the emotional moments, seeing the beauty in the mundane and simple. She was the friend who would skip any class to have a margarita at 2:00 in the afternoon. we would sit around for hours on end listening to music, drawing, making mini-books (her favorite past time). Her achilles heel, wanting everyone to be happy, never letting anyone down. The conflicts, sparse like Ohia trees on the backside of Kilauea volcano, were misunderstandings, Evan's goodwill spread too thin, too many promises to keep, and someone let down. Could always have been worse, but the infrequence made them seem important.

Evan and I don't correspond often, one of those friends with whom this isn't necessary. When we see eachother, we sit and make art, and no time has passed, and no time can pass. We stand at the gate with mini-books and drawings in hand, holding back Kal, time, whose devilish force threatens us. I miss her.

My new favorite beach: Ice Pond

Not called Ice Pond for nothing - this small little bay is chilly from groundwater which is flowing into the ocean. But the water is a gorgeous turquoise color, the bottom is sandy, the waves are present but not knocking you over. The perfect swimming hole. And to top it off, I dove in and looked around underwater and there was a good sized turtle two feet away from me. Actually scared me for a second, before I realized what it was and was able to appreciate fully the awe of a moment like that. Today was a good day. I'll have to get a picture of this place.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

The power of Language II

A student called me a fucking cunt about 20 times today. (Am I allowed to publish that? I guess I'll find out if not?) Why did he call me that? I touched his arm to ask him to leave after he called another student of mine a "fucking faggot." I didn't know that student before today. He isn't a student I have in class, which is generally the kind of student I have trouble with. You see, I really can't seem to turn the other way when I don't like something. I don't like kids making out at school or doing drugs or swearing unnecessarily. And I'm not going to turn the other way. There were kids smoking pot in front of the gym the other day and I told another teaching, since I didn't know the kids. He just shrugged and said, "that's not unusual for that group."

What kind of world is it that as adults, we allow this. How can we teach children to function in our society if we allow them to do these things - to call unknown people fucking cunts, to full on make out in the courtyard, to smoke drugs in public areas. Screw grammar and math. How about societal functioning? Citizenship?

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Power of Language



Raph and I got married in April. April Fool's Day to be exact. His brother got married 18 months earlier, and his cousin (our roommate) about five years ago. My brother got married about 8 months before we did. We also have a lot of married friends and I've watched all of these couples and their interactions carefully.

Some of these couples fight a lot, Not like Raph and I fight - they swear, full of meanness. But I've learned that these couples don't mean much of what they say. Its empty, constant fighting. Sometimes it makes me and others uncomfortable, but mostly they seem to think its harmless.

I think it matters. I think it is important how Raph and I talk to eachother. It's has the potential to be a self-fulfilling prophecy...if I tell Raph we are lucky to have eachother, that will be how we genuinely feel about eachother. If on the otherhand I call him an asshole all the time, I think I'd eventually begin to believe that. It's the same deal with my students - expectations. If I expect a lot from them, they will deliver a lot.

My father had a liver transplant when I was in 9th grade. At the time, my mother learned a saying about health problems after a transplant..."you either pay early or par late." My dad paid early; we weren't sure he was going to make it after the original surgery. And he has been relatively healthy thereafter. I don't know if marriage is really the same thing, but it might be.

Maybe you go through struggles early in your relationship and survive them together. And maybe that is necessary. Some of the married couples I know have already faced some pretty big obstacles. And yet, when I'm with them, I'm really not sure that they're going to make. They don't always seems like they have a basic like of eachother. Alot of older people talk about marriage being so tough. It doesn't feel tough, and I guess sometimes that worries me, especially when I consider some of the other married couples I know. Is too easy bad?

Sunday, August 20, 2006

The challenge to value set.




There is a very nice house for sale - two bedroom, two bath. A block from the ocean. Right next to a beautiful park lined with palm trees. Nice new kitchen, slate floors, nice enough. Raph wants it. Wants it bad. He's always wanted to live by the ocean. And I like it. Don't get me wrong! I'd love to live in that house. It's just that I'm not sure that I'm totally willing to make the sacrifices to afford a house like that. It isn't that expensive. We can afford it as long as we are both working, but there are sacrifices.

The sacrifices: my dream of building, with my own hands, my own house. My dream of having a negligible mortgage - so that I can travel, and engage in other activities that I am interested in, so that we aren't slaves to our mortgage. My dream of having AND RAISING children. I am really not interested in having children and then allowing someone else to watch them. This house won't allow us to live on one income, unless we were very creative.

And that brings us back to the basic value set...what is important. I sort of feel like living on an island is good enough! We can go to the ocean within 10 minutes whenever we want? Is it necessary to live right next to the ocean, where the threat from tsunamis and hurricanes is much greater? I'm not so sure? I just want a few acres with fruit trees and and trees and room to live and breathe and have kids run around (some day.) I'm just not sure how the cost of the house fits in? We'll see...

The worst bug yet!


So I've lived in Hawaii before. I am familiar with the giant roaches, the even bigger cane spiders (We had friends who after finding and then losing a cane spider in their house, pitched a tent on top of their bed, they were so afraid of the thing.) Last week I even had a gigantic cane toad thrown into my classroom in the middle of class. Talk about disruptions. So yeah, I'm prepared for those little critters. But not the centipede! I've had nights of nothing but nightmares about this guy. Scampering into my bed and stinging/biting me. Unfortunately, I think that the only thing that will cure my fear, is to actually get stung. Maybe it will happen soon so I can resume sleeping.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

pahoa, an introduction


Raphael and I moved to the Big Island about a month ago. We own two lots of land in the Puna area (in case you want to check out a map). It is very rural here, rugged, and fairly unregulated by the government - housing may or may not have permits, most roads are privately owned and look like this one on the right (which happens to be the road one of our lots is located on - thats our lot there on the left), many many people use catchment for water and solar for electricity. Many more don't have any utilities at all.

We are both English teachers here (though Raph is trained as a science teacher) and are still getting acclimated to the culture in this area. Our school, Pahoa, has a reputation for being a tough school and many of our coworkers talk to us as though we won't stay, because soooo many teachers have come and gone each year. When other teachers ask me how I'm doing, and I answer "great," they seem fairly shocked. "Really?" They say.

Maybe it is because I taught on Maui before, and so the Hawaii school system isn't totally foreign to me. Maybe it is because I've also worked with inner-city students in Pittsburgh through jobs at the Pittsburgh Children's Museum, and the Manchester Craftsmen's Guild. (Not trying to make it sound like a resume, but both places are pretty awesome and I love to say that I've worked with kids there.) But the truth is, thus far I have nothing negative to say about my students.

They face some pretty incredible challenges. For example, Puna has more kids in foster care than anywhere else in the state. I hear many students talking openly about running away from their foster parents, or being switched around from Auntie's house, to grandma's house, to foster parents. It's pretty remarkable that they can keep up with school at all. They also have a
HUGE crystal meth epidemic in Hawaii (ice as it is known here). These two problems aren't unrelated. Drugs permeate the culture here. In the 70s when there were only 55 students graduating each year from Pahoa, guerilla farmers had huge crops of marijuana growing on this lush mountain-side. That remains here in the culture. When talking about utopian societies in class the other day, I asked students to identify problems in our society that we'd need to fix in order to make a utopia. One boy's response was "green harvest," which I'd never heard of. Apparently it refers to when the authorities cut down your marijuana crop. According to my student, this is a problem because when they harvest a person's marijuana, they are driven to take ice. Interesting logic, huh?

Despite these challenges, my students are very bright, have incredible senses of humor, and want to learn. I like EVERY student I have, which I couldn't say on Maui, even though I did like the vast majority there too. I'm excited to teach, though the job is limitlessly challenging, and indeed the only thing that I feel has truly challenged me in my whole life. I think about the job that I held for the last year at the Manchester Craftsmen's Guild. An incredible place. Amazing people working there. And yet, I wasted so much time as an employee there. Not that I didn't complete my job, but I did it efficiently, and was left with so much extra time to visit the coffee maker, the studios, glaze a pot, dye some fabric, talk story (as they say in Hawaii) with a friend. Luxuries not afforded to me as a teacher. And yet, I feel so much more energized as a teacher. I feel like I make a difference to those students. I feel like my day's work matters. And I'm being challenged daily, which I believe is good for the soul, the intellect and the body (as long as it isn't too extreme.)

I'm thrilled to be here, though this wasn't at all what I had intended to write about. It is what it is, and I'll just go with that for now.

Friday, August 18, 2006

First Day Off; First Blog


Here we go...a try.

I've always said I wanted to be a writer. It was just a matter of time, I surmised. Maybe if I commit to writing something every day, that will make me a writeR?

It's a cloudy day in Puna with waves of rain washing over the corrogated tin roof frequently. Raphael is in the garage building a sewing table for me and occassionally the shrieking hum of the circular saw blocks out the music and soup boiling on the stove. The only color against the dirty white sky is the deep green of the Ohia trees and Norfolk pines.

This is a new life for us. An experiment in living. Rural Hawaii. Struggling schools. CUTE kids. So well-meaning. An ocean of water (literally) and an ocean of emotion (figuratively) between our families and us.

A start. A small start.