Exploring the Ancient Place of Refuge

Yesterday I went to the Place (or City) of Refuge, located off of Highway 11 a few miles down the road. It is a national park that contains an ancient mausoleum that was created for Hawaiian royalty, along with hand carved tikis that stand like protectors of the sanctuary, with demonic faces meant to deter evil spirits. It used to be an actual place of refuge, or asylum, for those wishing to escape the law in foreign countries. Even law breakers here on the island could escape/retreat to the City of Refuge to be purfied by the Kahunas. The one here in Honaunau is just one of several on the Big Island. The deal was that,
if one could cross the shark infested Pacific ocean from their homeland to the City of Refuge, they would simply be granted amnesty by their respective government.
To get to it, you must walk/bike/drive down a scenic route that has spectacular views of Kealakekua Bay (except for where the views are blocked by breadfruit, avocado, mango and various other kinds of trees). In the distance, you can see the slope of Mauna Loa (the volcano). At the end of the day, depending on the weather conditions, the ocean often has a hint of, pink, or lavender where the sun hits it, and from a distance, looks placid and serene. I sometimes look out toward the horizon and try to imagine the distance between here and the next continent. I can only imagine that it is a comfortable one.
You can walk into the park about a mile until you reach its border, by either going along lava rock next to the water, across the coarse sand that gets stuck under your sandals and causes discomfort, or along a lava rock trail that was created in the 19th century by colonists. Once you get past the picnic area with its barbeques and benches and into the natural reserve, it becomes quiet and desolate. Looking South, you can see the clouds patiently making their way down the Kealia Hills. If this is what refugees encountered when they first arrived, it must have felt like true freedom. Of not knowing what to do with oneself in a silent land, except experience peace, or perhaps lonliness. At least initially. The message over the loud speakers in the visitors center informed me that the necesssary purification process that refugees went was not pleasant.
The other day I brought my bathing suit and snorkel gear and searched for a place to creep into the water. On most of the coastal lava rock, the water ceaselessly attempts to overcome the natural barrier. Like a person hoisting himself onto a high ledge, it ultimately fails with each attempt -- sometimes lingering for a moment, but never quite being able to rest at the top in comfort. Sometimes the water succeeds in temporarily covering the surface of a section of lava rock, and for a moment, looks like an elevated mound of water. But always, it falls back into the sea, releasing waterfalls that sound like rapids, or like an extended exhalation of relief from strain.

I found a relatively mellow spot, took off my sandals, and carefully walked across the slippery rock until I reached the edge, where I couldn’t see my feet because there were so many bubbles. When I jumped in, it was like being in a different world. It contrast to the coarse, jet black lava rock, grainy sand, and dry hillside on land, the water is an asure blue, cool, shocking at first, and there is color and activity everwhere. You don't actually have to swim to "swim with the fishes" (as they call it), because the waves showing onto the rocks creates a push and pull movement in the water. At certain points, all fish, sea turtles, and plant matter move in unison, and it's best just to relax. Looking towards the rocks where the waves were headed, I would, from time to time, see a blast of bubbles in the water as they hit. To get an idea of what that might have looked like, think of a sheet of heavy wood being dropped flat onto a bed of dust in the night, with light reflecting off of all of the particles as they fly in all directions.
As you walk back, just as when you walk in, there are palm trees scattered along the coast. It is a pleasing site to see, as they differ in a fundamental way from those you see in California: they are not hand picked and arranged in a rigid way, and do not seem out of place. They actually look natural (because they are).
I like to go here at least a couple days out of the week -- if not there, then so some other beach along City of Refuge Road. I'll write more about those later.

Time to Pursue New Interests

Every day in Santa Cruz includes a walk somewhere, whether it is along West Cliff (with the waves crashing below me), Pogonip (a national park about a mile and a half away), or among the redwoods at the UC Santa Cruz campus. That's one of the main reasons I came back here: I wanted to re-immerse myself in the natural abundance that SC has to offer. As long as I get myself out there, I feel mostly accomplished for the day. But not completely. I have become interested in new things, which I have begun taking the time to develop.
One: the steel strung guitar. Ben has one in his room, and I like it better than the nylon string one that I received for Hannukah a few years ago, which I have played for about 1 hour in totality. The steel strung guitar has a better resonance -- deeper, more bluesy, kind of. I just put my finger on different frets, on different strings, and sees what sounds good -- I don't know if they are established chords (or whatever), but I just pick away at them and hum in a tone that matches, alter my finger placing to something else
that sounds pretty, go back to the original position, and in this way, create a tune. It feels good, to finally pick up something that I have only admired for the past few years. I want to find a travel size so I can bring one to Hawaii to play in my free time. Honestly, I like it better than the uke.
Two: Tea. The real, dank tea. There is a shop right next to the house I am staying at, called Chaikhana. It's a quaint little shop, almost like a gallery. Not only does it sell tea, but teaware, some of which are antique. Ben has such a large collection of it, that he strains in holding himself back from purchasing more each time he enters the shop (it's not exactly cheap stuff, especially when your job barely pays you a living wage) (I have included a picture of him refraining from buying a teapot that he's eyeing).
Chaikhana has exotic teas from all around the world (mainly the East). I'm not into just any tea though. It's Puerh (sp?) that has gotten my attention. If I remember correctly, Puerh is a tea from China that is fermented in caves, for a period that ranges from about a few weeks to a few decades (the longer the better, in my opinion) in piles, sometimes in the peel of citrus fruit. You can find them as loose tea, in bricks, and probably other forms that I am not yet aware of. They have a powerful effect on the mind and body, and are incredibly "earthy." Very grounding and calming. Some don't taste so great, but I don't care. If I ever feel flustered from trying to accomplish too much, or worn out, I just sip some Puerh and feel restored. It is great for the stomach, and promotes good digestion (which is the foundation of general, overall health). Ben always pours me several mini cups full (at least) each night as we converse over his countertop in the kitchen.
Three: teaching myself Spanish. At the moment, I am checking out Pablo Neruda books from the library, which include English translations. I'll read his poems in Spanish on the left side of the book, sometimes out loud, and try to translate them for myself before looking to the right side, to the English version. I am getting better at it, though sometimes I am way off, as a lot of what he has to say isn't exactly commonplace. Ben has also lent me a book on the different tenses, which is what I most need to focus on the moment (past and future tense are my main weaknesses).
Everything is a choice. I have many options when deciding what to do with my time. I'm finding the balance between both taking it easy and being productive/constructive. Things are going so smooth for me, that I have to spend time watching reality television to make up for the lack of drama in my life.