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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.

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    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. 

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  I have recently started catching on to the idea that the “Defend Hawaii” motto is a racist’s hallmark, anti-white. Being from the later half of the 21st century I myself have never before been on the receiving end of racism.
   The whites fear a world market collapse despite their sustainable farms because the Native Hawaiian peoples would (supposedly), hunt down the hoales (HOW- Lee) to clear their lands of the invaders despite blurred cultural lines. Apparently the evil nocturnal cows are not the issue- it’s skin color.
    Racism still being taboo (even here), these issues are left to parking lot brawls or other meat head meetings. Most bars have been closed due to the fighting not a lack of drinkers. The  non-indigenous people (Hoales) have just as crappy mutual feeling about the natives often describing them in a less than manor. Mainlanders bring over money to start new rich looking businesses. Hawaiians have very little interest in luxuries or working hard to get them. They would rather have the land and the free time so they are often viewed as lazy and therefor un-hirable.  
     It is a classic example of bitterness against sneaky white usurpation and their cute ‘where’s the ball?’ gag. And, what a great ball the welfare system makes.  Majority of Hawaii is on Welfare it would seem and the public education here sucks worse than in Texas. If there were a world market collapse the Hawaiian’s would need to take over local yuppie owned farms in order to survive. They are organized by blood lines and have intimidation stickers on their trucks to prove the seriousness of it all. This paradise has some key ingredients for violence stew. 

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There is a pirate ship with two guys from Seattle and three others anchored in a near by bay. They held a party in the galley of their ship. I was lucky enough to be in attendance. The wood sailing ship was built in the 40’s. We ferried out by row boat like Spanish pioneers. There was an underwater light show of luminescence. I got so excited I jumped in the water without a snorkel. A group consisting of one pirate and 7 sirens swam in the dark to the other sailboat and sang for them to come join us. They ignored us. In the Galley the cook made a huge Indian feast and we drank and sang and stomped. I played harmonica until it was time for me to return to shore. I had many reservations about heading back to land.

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It’ s a bit like a scene from One Flew Over the KooKoo’s Nest. Where even the seemingly sane are only marginally so. The insane wonder about the island in cars, blocked by the ocean. The more capable Jack Nicholson type sit on the porches of their establishments in a casual manner. They try to explain to passers by why THE END OF THE WORLD is the way that it is.  
   There are some here whom I believe have been hurt very badly and were already ‘sensitive’ to being with, myself included. Though there are some whom have never had the pleasure of tragedy, they are just hippies embracing life’s magic. Some of the people can be blissfully arrogantly ignorant. Those people don’t seem to understand that speaking to someone in all first person positives can come off as pompous bragging. They wistfully assume (assumption being the bastard child of ignorance) that everyone is comfortable with perfection.
  Perhaps I am being too harsh. Maybe it is just my own bitterness at having to undergo heartbreak but, there is something about people who have not had a good life that I admire or identify with. They seem more whole or real to me. -A torn soul can be mended by the thread of bravery.-  Cheers to people who have been sad but still remember to be happy.

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They forced me to watch AVATAR. 

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There is an old man who lives in the woods in Kokoiki. He is the smartest and the poorest man in town. Boss they call him. Boss is a Nordic looking gentlemen and tall in stature. His white hair and tan face host lobes of soft smile wrinkles. Boss spent 40 years developing a strain of ganja that he smoked with me. It was a pleasant and happy high. He sent me home with as many plants as my little arms could carry. Not to mention the latest issue of Archeology Magazine

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AT THE END OF THE WORLD

The end of the world, it has a slew of meanings. I have been to the other end of the world and back, time has ended or nearing apocalypse. Le Fin due Monde, I have come to discover quiet recently that it is also a state of mind. It is a way of life for remote civilizations, not just for an individual but also for Sovereign states. While looking for employment recently I was lectured by a 16 year old farm boy on the importance of being able to grow your own food. The important part being he was certain, ‘one day the stores would stop producing’. Whatever that means.
Since wild longhorns and 600 pound pigs roam the neighborhoods, it is common to hunt. Owning several huge guns is also hand common. So common in fact I know a very strict vegetarian here whom has shot several a cow with his heavy armaments. The surlier men show homage to their love of large guns by pasting stickers on the back windshields of large trucks. The man stickers often feature a semi automatic of sorts and the logo “Defend Hawaii”. It makes one think that perhaps the cow issue might be a bigger problem than originally thought.

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       AT THE END OF THE WORLD

Here at the end of the world, they have very strict rules that have become laws. However lawless the people may seem, with their sustainable farms and large firearms. They all revere the laws of their choosing. Perhaps the democratic system has worked for these people.  Hell, I don’t know.
There are heavy restrictions on controlled substances. Tobacco is widely frowned upon. Consequently, smoking is prohibited in just about every public space and the majority of people will not let you “use tobacco” on their property. Drinking is not aloud on beaches. There are very few bars and they rarely stay open past 11. Nightlife extinguished.
OK then let’s talk recreation. You may not touch the turtles, don’t even ask. Beware of Bees. Flushing toilet paper down the commode is iffy behavior. Watching T.V., (everyone does it but no one talks about it).  Beaches are all public access but most of the waterfalls require a little B&E.  The public education system here is worse than in Texas so having a book club with the locals is out.  Sad (or good) music makes up about 3.5% of all music played. Showering needs to be kept under 20 minutes and dishes need to be washed without having the water running.
The trade off; every window should be a painting. You can eat wild fruit all day long any time of the year. Along with wild fruit there are wild chickens, pigs and steer. Shooting is encouraged year round. People spearfish and have cookouts. Everyone here is down to camp- Tent be damned! There are some resident young people. Lots of resident weirdos. I haven’t seen any homeless people since I got to this town but come to think about it, I know several people who just live outside. Did I mention wild horses?