5/2/13
A couple months ago Connor, my roommate from GU, called me and told me to buy a ticket to Hawaii. Connor has an Aunt living in Pearl Harbor naval base with her husband, a 3-star general (it was no coincidence that they were the most generous individuals known to mankind); so I agreed to stay a week gratis in Oahu. I've been there before, but never have I experienced such contrast on a single island.
This contrast lies between the locals and the military folk. If you can't tell the difference between the two just listen to their ability to pronounce Oahu's street names, Sgt. Joe Tex stumbles over Mahalo, Bruno Mars does not.
Once you exit the borders of military property, the surrounding population wears a different uniform. Dress code changes from full bodied camouflage gear to tank tops and flip flops paired with of some Rastafarian board shorts, all of which have been faded by heavy sun exposure.
The locals of Oahu have almost nothing in common with the residents of the Pearl Harbor Naval and Hickam Airforce Base. Being a product of Marin county and a Hansen man, I had never in my life seen any of the Army up close. Living with General Robling taught me a thing or two, and according to my research, the army hooks you up big time. The General had an aid (one of two) come by in the afternoons, to prepare food. I always imagined anyone in the Army had to eat spam out of a can using standard issued jackknives. Wrong Hansen. Drop and give me twenty, then make me an exquisite dinner.
On base there is a main objective, that objective is whatever your superior tells you. All responses are ended with a Sir, Ma’am, and a salute. Outside base the only objective is to enjoy oneself. If you’re going to salute to anything, it better be Mother Ocean, she worked all day making those waves you’re riding. Salty salutes aside, locals in Hawaii do have jobs, but most don’t live to work towards a three-star career, they work just enough to keep living…in paradise.
It makes sense, if tourism is the largest money-maker, why not get a piece of that service-industry pie? There are critics to this sort of professional plateau on the islands, most blame the school system, which is not known for its prestige and efficiency. Nevertheless, when asked, locals need only site one source: our Commander in Chief. “Obama went to high school down the street, our education is presidential bruddah."
The biggest example of this lifestyle can be found on the University of Hawaii radio station, their DJs definitely don’t live to work. The perma-tanned students speak into the mic when they feel like it, and when they do it’s with a tone that just rolled off a lazy sunset wave. “Aloha……We’re gonna play more…Robert King here today…This next one goes out to Panale’ui…hope your dog recovers from its sun rash…Ohana means family…” after some more dead air the song begins and ends, then our DJ meanders along thusly until the next sunbaked DJ rolls into the studio from the surf. We listened to KTUH daily.
Don’t mistake my previous tone as a tut-tutting of island life's rhythm. If I could dance to it I would but there’s no way my beanstalk body could fully get a hold of that vibe. Torn between a world of staunch order and Aloha, I was hard pressed to find a niche in between.
Allow me to introduce the last type of person in Oahu: the all-too-common tourist. This creature originates from Mainland, Anywhere (in this case Japan is Mainland too). Nothing is more revolting to a local off duty than a camera-toting tourist. Covered in sunscreen and wearing shoes to the beach, these creatures attack Honolulu’s peace like a disease. Clogging major traffic arteries and polluting its tranquil sound waves with the constant flap-flip of their lost feet and snip snap of their surgically attached cameras, tourists are Hawaii’s biggest dilemma.
While tourism drives their economy, it can really kill the buzz.
Although I agree with the local attitude towards visitors, there’s no hiding that I was a tourist. I took a popular trip to a popular place to try and briefly escape a rainy 9-5 existence. I traveled heavy and got lost all too frequently. To the locals, I’m sorry for adding to the problem. To Connor’s Aunt and Uncle, thank you sincerely for the hospitality. To the military, keep doing your thing. To tourists, I thoroughly enjoyed being a one of you and I’d do it again in a heartbeat, but can we cool it with those damn Hawaiian shirts?
