Shaka

"Slow Down...This Ain't the Mainland!"
It's the truth, Hawaii ain't the mainland. Things on the island move a little more slowly; sometimes, a lot more slowly. Imagine spending an hour and a half at the bank just to open an account! There doesn't seem to be the same urgency to get somewhere or to move quickly from one activity to the next. Indeed, there are some of the same frustrations you'd find on the mainland (traffic comes to mind), but in general, it's a pretty relaxed atmosphere. It's great to slow things down and try to enjoy, but it seems to be taking this mainlander a little time to get there.

Stephanie Jr. was thrilled to be invited to a birthday party last week. Mr. Stephanie and I figured the shin-dig would last about an hour and a half, so we made grown-up plans for after the party. We loaded up Jr. and drove to our destination (an amazing house near the beach), planning to drop him off and do the coffee thing. When we pulled up, the host was waiting outside, "Aloha! Just park over there and come on in!" Mr. and I looked at each other...guess we're staying.

We could hear the music blaring as we made our way to the lanai. Jr. immediately took off with his friends and my husband and I were left to our own devices. "Hey, grab a beer and some food!" our host suggested. The food was amazing, by the way. A huge spread for a child's party. We did as we were told and made our feeble attempts to mingle. Time passed as the kids played and the adults talked and laughed. Mr. and I looked at our watches, it had already been two hours. I began tapping my toes, wondering when they'd get to the cake. The kids didn't seem to care, they were having a great time! I whispered to my husband, "We'd better go pretty soon."

The guy next to us asked, "Do you have to be somewhere? I think they'll get to the cake in a while."
"Um, well, we do have plans for later," I lamely responded.
"Hey, it's a party! Look how much fun the keiki are having! They aren't looking at their watches." He went over to the cooler and brought back a beer for each of us. "Have one beer and chillax!" Good point.

Hawaii's cool, I get it, and it's not going to change for us. Why would we want it to? Now we, as newcomers, just have to learn to take the proverbial deep breath and "chillax."

It's Waikiki, Baby!

On a warm Saturday in our second month of living in Hawaii, we thought we'd make a trip to Waikiki, a mere 25 minute drive from our house. I'd been there once before and was excited to go back. Waikiki embodies the best of both worlds...an amazing beach and the hustle of a big city. On this particular day, we wanted to visit the International Market, an outdoor shopping center.

Upon entering the International Market, we were immediately flagged down by a man at a kiosk. Having been in retail sales for a long time, you'd think I would know better than to stop, but...no.

"Hey, have you heard of the Dead Sea Minerals?" asked an incredibly nice looking young man with a thick middle eastern accent. "These are very good for your skin, here, feel." He took my hand and started to rub the product into my skin, looking deep into my eyes the entire time. "Nice, huh?" Ummm...yes, nice.

The salesman proceeded to tell me that he was from Iran and that he believed deeply in the product he was selling. I have to admit, I was intrigued. Of course, the fact that during his whole sales pitch, he was massaging different salts and creams into my hands didn't hurt.

"My girlfriend likes this one a lot," the Iranian Romeo stated, "or really, ex-girlfriend, we broke up. I'll tell you what, for you, and only for you, I'll give you a special deal." He was so sincere, how could I pass it up?

I reached into my purse so I could purchase $150.00 worth of God knows what, when something interrupted my trance...

"Mom!" I felt a tug on my dress and turned to see Stephanie Jr. and Mr. Stephanie staring at me with their mouths open. Hmmm...where'd they come from?
"I'm sorry," my husband said, "it's time for my wife's medication." And with that, he pulled me by the arm and led me away.
"What is the matter with you?" asked Mr. Stephanie.
"Whatever do you mean?" All innocence, of course.
"Mom," began Stephanie Jr., "you know he was only being nice to you so you'd buy something."
My husband shot me a triumphant look, "He said it, not me."

That's their opinion, and now my skin is suffering for it. I still think the special deal was for me...and only me.