AT THE END OF THE WORLD 16

The two older ladies I live with have collected 15 stray cats. There are 5 that are of reproductive age and two litters of kittens.  It's catgrotesque, not cattastic like The New York Dolls.

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Took my Coffee on a bed of lava.     
    Ate the meat of a coconut.
Watched a black star eat a round silver fish.
Rode the bus to what I assumed was a bay for it was named "Captain Cook", but was really a village in the mountains.
Hiked 4 miles down a winding road and into Na'popo Bay hoping to camp in what was turning out to be a no camping zone.
Saluted Captain Cook's resting place for no particular reason.
Vagranted someone's back yard. Their back yard just happened to be a coral beach with patches of sand. I cleared a patch of sand in the dark of it's multifaceted coral and put my sleeping pants on. Thought I might build a fire.Turns out it's harder than it looks.
      There was no moon, no stars, just dark. I had strange dreams. One involved me being hunted by a pig who was being hunted bear but just as I was about to be eaten by the bear a giant shark leapt from the water and ate the bear and the pig. I was spared.
   Also, read some of the classified adds in the local news paper and, being an experienced goathearder pays $1,400 a month plus room and board.  Weird times.




 

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     I attended my first official Hawaiian party. It was a graduation party at Mahukona for Bryson, class of 2011.  I arrived with a local know to entertain 'guests'. This gave me an insiders access that most anthropologists wet themselves over. Ok, so it's not like discovering a new Pigme tribe in New Guienne but it's a few and far between experiance. 
   First we were greeted by the drunks who introduced us to the matriarchs who then insisted that we stay for prayer and dinner. The prayer consisted of 35-40 people all holding hands in a circle. The eldest of the group, a woman and clearly the leader of the clan, made sure no-one broke the circle of hands. The Speech and the prayer were orated by a teenage male, a brother or cousin of sort to the Man of Honer. The young man gave a vivacious thank you to his home and the family that made a place a home. It was real family ties type shit. Everyone was crying, (me included). He was clear in voice and held a strong, even tone. After the prayer I was going to slink back off into the background but the matriarchs stopped me and ushered me into a food line.
 B.T.W., it was the best food line I have ever been in. The line part was awkward, I was the ONLY white person there but! The food was amazing. Lobster cevichie, chard su pork, dirty rice, whole deep fried mini fish, more pork, raw some fish or another, steamed tea leaves all gone in seconds. I thought I had had good food before. I have. But, this was what my mouth has been waiting for all it's mouth life. All fallowed by karaoke. I attempted to sing 'The girl from Impanima went walking'. Also, I sang along to 'Boot Skootin Boogie'. They might have semi regretted inviting me to their party but I don't regret it at all.
 My most important discovery of the night was that there is more to anthropology than schooling and writing books. A lot of Anthropology is party crashing.
  
 
  On a side note, I did gain more insight on the subject of extended relationships and other interpersonal, non-scientific issues.
 
  



   

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  I have stopped dreaming about the apocalypse. Now, the dreams seemed to be more focused on harvests. Last night I dreamt of a large banana harvest. Not only were the bananas abundant but also large in size. 5 pound bananas, 5 foot bananas, it was banana city. A six foot man was carrying a 5' banana and tripped. The banana shot from it's peel and the dream moved into some sort of Muppet banana gag sketch.

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         The air is fresh, the ocean had no smell. The spaces, open. Views, breath taking. Alas, I miss those shitty Texas beaches, the sound of seagulls and cat calls from Rough Necks. Gulf oysters, lemon and Tabasco. Smoking Winston's on harbored docks for not so sea worthy shrimp boats with the ghetto repair jobs.
    Driving in you can smell the Gulf from 100 miles away and even further if there is a south wind. It's such a heavy smell you could put it in a jar and let it out later.  That smell would call to me all the way in Austin like Mcdonald's french fries, "Run away young teenager, unsilence your warrior cry."
   I would walk for miles in one direction down those beaches day dreaming about more exotic places. Now 4,000 miles from there, where the world really shows off it's talent for beauty and abundance; I want to be driving around Rock Port listening to Janis drunk off LoneStar.
 I hope one day I can be as good of a Hawaiian as I was a Texan.

AT THE END OF THE WORLD 9

 

    They still have Fathers Day. No matter how remote the island seems, they still have fathers day. I am not accusing everyone of having a father. As for those lucky bastards, if you get Dad envy you can mail my dad a gift. He might appreciate getting a gift every now and again.

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                      A Mini History Lesson:
 Captain Cook

     1779 Captain  James Cook and his crew of sailors dropped anchor in a bay just south of Kona. The Hawaiian's thought he was the re-incarnation of their god Lono so they took him to a Heiau and invested him with super powers. Captain Cook and his men then ate the Hawaiian's food, gave their women V.D.s and fucked off. However, they were out to sea less than a week when the ship's mast split and the wise J.C. returned to the very spot from which they had departed only to be greeted with a killing party. They did not sail out from same cove 2X.
 The End.