(Kind of) Living in Hawaii

Every Friday the ship sailed by the Napoli Coast of the island Kauai.  This was designed as a romantic sendoff, Hawaii’s grand finale before the cruise ended in Honolulu.  The guests camped out near windows and fiendishly coveted their front row seats to witness the splendor of bountiful vegetation and tectonic plates that smashed together millions of years ago.  The Napoli Coast is considered one of the most beautiful places on Earth.  

The view certainly never gets old.  I remember staring at the verdant cliffs in wonder for the first time.  The combination of isolated beaches, the luscious greenery, and the red-tinged soil made the coastline seem other-worldly.  This place was more than just a photo-op on our itinerary.  It wasn’t until I began learning the history of the Hawaiian Islands that I was able to truly appreciate the view out the window.

Before I came to Hawaii, I was completely ignorant of my geography.  I assumed Honolulu was on the biggest island, and I thought Pearl Harbor was in the middle of nowhere.  Honolulu, it turns out, is on the island of Oahu, and Pearl Harbor is roughly a fifteen minute drive from the most populated city in the state.  If I had been any more ignorant to the truth, I could have convinced myself there were bridges between the islands.  I don’t like to appear stupid, so I bought some books and brushed up on my Hawaiian history. 

Hawaii, the most isolated chain of islands in the world, was first discovered by Polynesians rowing double-hulled canoes.  They navigated the seas by observing the stars, the wind, and the ocean currents.  This practice is called wayfinding, a skill that takes years to master and is handed down through the generations. 

By 1200, Polynesians from Tahiti and the Marquesas settled all the habitable islands of Hawaii.  There are four major islands:  Oahu, Maui, Kauai, and Hawaii (aka the Big Island), and four smaller islands not as developed:  Molokai, Kahoolawe, Lanai, and Niihau.  Each island established its own kingdom.  The land was divvied up amongst the islanders like slices of pie evenly distributed at a family dinner.  Every district got a piece of the inland mountains, fertile valleys, and a crescent of the coast. 

Chiefs were appointed to monitor resources to ensure that the farming and fishing were coming along swimmingly.  Due to the extreme isolation of these islands, the natives had to be self-sufficient in order to sustain their growing population.  In addition to the land regulations, this highly-stratified society imposed a strict set of rules called the kapu system. 

These restrictions were dictated by spiritual powers, and these gods were oddly controlling.  Men and women were not allowed to eat together.  Even if the ladies were dining solo, they were prohibited from eating bananas.  

Two years after the signing of the Declaration of Independence, a British explorer named Captain James cook sailed to the west coast of Kauai.  White people discovered the islands, and they began leaking all of its secrets.

A few years after George Washington and his troops defeated the British in the American Revolution, a fierce Hawaiian warrior named Kamehameha was busy with his own revolution.  He was uniting the islands under one kingdom, and he would soon wear the crown. 

The American forefathers were wearing powdered wigs and transporting the capital from Philly to D.C. by horse and buggy around the time when Hawaiians were paddling war canoes and killing each other with spears.  These two worlds seemed leagues apart, but soon they would collide.  Hawaiian history would become American history. 

Before Hawaii became a territory-turned-state, it was its own country for eighty-eight years.  Once this tiny archipelago became internationally recognized, the usual barrage of problems ensued.  Europeans and Americans visited, and they brought syphilis and other infectious diseases with them.  Hawaii lucked out during the major plagues that ransacked Europe, so the natives’ immune systems were unprepared for an onslaught of foreign microbes.  The population was decimated.

Then the Asians arrived:  the Chinese, Japanese, and Koreans.  In order to replenish the working classes, foreigners were recruited to work in the first sugar plantations that began sprouting up as the old land customs faded.  A large portion of Hawaiian land is used for farming, but you don’t see this advertised on postcards.  The popular image of Hawaii——pristine beaches, hula dancers, palm trees——is a marketing ploy.  My first mental visualization of Hawaii was created by advertisers, the same mind-benders responsible for those commercials that persuade viewers that Michigan has more to offer than seven-month winters and rampant unemployment.

There are many truths to Hawaii that not many people talk about because nobody wants to darken this idyllic paradise.  From the 1860s to the 1960s, Molokai was home to a controversial leper colony.  Due to the huge death tolls following the introduction of Western diseases, Hawaiians grew excessively cautious about quarantining anybody suspected of having leprosy.  Police officers were ordered to hunt down suspected individuals and ship them off to the island of Molokai.  Isolation was mandatory.  Children were torn from their families.  Many of them spent the rest of their lives in exile.

Kahoolawe is another island that doesn’t align with this utopic vision of Hawaii.  During World War II the American military used Kahoolawe, a small uninhabited island, as target practice.  They dropped bombs and detonated TNT to polish their skills for the Korean and Vietnam Wars.  Twenty five years ago, the military finally stopped this practice largely due to the efforts of protesters.  Now, groups are attempting to restore the land for spiritual use, but you still have to watch your step because there may be active mines. 

Military presence is the biggest reason that Hawaii is an American state.  Before the Second World War, Japan was eager to expand its territory because the most densely populated country in the world could not support itself on its limited resources.  After Japan seized Korea and Manchuria, the United States worried that the Japanese would head east across the Pacific in search of bountiful lands.  After the Americans stole the Philippines and Guam from the Spanish, who, in turn, stole those lands from the natives, the United States established a critical naval base in the middle of the Pacific Ocean at Pearl Harbor.

In the 1890s, Congress asked Grover Cleveland to annex Hawaii, but he was set against it because he had a great deal of respect for the Hawaiian people.  He thought his country had gone too far with its policy of Manifest Destiny.  We already had a nation that stretched from sea to shining sea.  If we greedily collect other lands, Cleveland believed, this practice would come back to bite us.  The next president, William McKinley, did not share these sentiments.  He scooped up the Philippines, Guam, Puerto Rico, and Hawaii in a single year.  As a result of the annexation, Hawaii’s last monarch, Queen Liliuokalani, was overthrown and imprisoned in her own home.  The American flag was raised. 

That’s how we came to be here on a cruise ship called The Pride of America sailing in our home territory in a land we seized illegally for militaristic and economic profit.  I’m amazed at the progression from Polynesians rowing wooden canoes to a bulky hunk of steel shuttling honeymooners and senior citizens on a vacation of convenience.  When I stare at wonder at the Napoli Coast, I see the natural beauty, but I also consider the history of these islands. 

This is the land where men threw spears at each other, where women couldn’t eat bananas because of a taboo system, where men danced with fire, where lepers hid in the forests to avoid detection, where immigrants toiled in the cane fields, where American planes dropped explosives, and where Steven Spielberg filmed Jurassic Park.  More than a century ago, an American politician pointed to this tiny speck on the map and said, “This land could be useful.” Now here we are, looking out the window in an air-conditioned room.       

Why did the Polynesians search for these islands over a thousand years ago?  I don’t know the answer, but I can guarantee they weren’t thinking, “Somewhere beyond the sea lies an ideal location for a K-Mart, where we can sell cheap leis and Aloha shirts.”  As absurd as this scenario seems, this is, in fact, the evolution that humans have taken.  We certainly have strayed far from our original intentions.

There are Hawaiians out there who are still protesting American statehood.  I’ve ridden my bike up into the West Maui Mountains where I saw a beat-up sign declaring hope for a future independent Hawaii.  On this sign was the word haole, which means outsider or white person.  The entire time I worked and (kind of) lived in Hawaii, I was always aware that I was a haole, a mere visitor. 

I would feel uncomfortable living in Hawaii because I don’t think we Americans belong here.  The land belongs to the natives, but now they act as generous hosts to all these paying customers.  They work as valets, stateroom stewards, and waitresses at high-rise hotels and resorts that sprung up out of the taro fields.  They resuscitate ancient rituals during expensive luaus and then drive home on American highways.  

What if another country invaded the United States, kicked President Obama out of the White House, instated a foreign leader, and then told the American people to shut up and dance?  That’s exactly what the country did to the Hawaiians, and we’re still paying to see the show.