Go Big (Island): Week One (and a half)

Hello friends and family (and anyone else who happens upon this)!

Richardson Beach, right outside of Hilo

This is a blog about three haole girls' adventures in the beautiful and amaranthine Big Island of Hawaii. Our doings primarily take place in or around Hilo, on the eastern side of the island. We initially began this adventure as a means to do something after our graduation from CU Boulder. At least, that was what led me (Catherine) out to this small dot of land in the middle of the Pacific. Tamarah Howard, my co-pilot, was the main initiator. Her sister, Jess, lives in Honolulu on the island of Oahu. We were going to move to Honolulu, and figure out how to live with $1000 dollars of rent every month in a new city. Then Rachel Irons, our co-conspirator, told us about land that her friend Hunter owned on the Big Island, that we could live on for free. Thus a new plan formed--the three of us, roughing it in a patch of jungle in the middle of nowhere, with no immediate access to amenities. We were going to clear the jungle foliage with machetes and our sheer determination, build a deck, pitch a tent, and collect rainwater. That was how we were going to live, and we were so excited. It was an adventure, something we had never done before, and that seldom few other people had done before (well, at least in contemporary times.)

Catherine and Tamarah at Akaka Falls

Tamarah and I arrived in Hilo first. Our tent wasn't due to arrive for another week, as was Rachel. With no immediate shelter, Tamarah used the Couch Surfing app to find us a place for the night. We were picked up at Hilo's airport at around 10 pm by a gentleman named Sanjay, who was a friend of our host, Sanji. We drove for an unexpectedly long amount of time (about 25 minutes outside of Hilo) until we came to Sanji's fruit farm (aptly named Aloha Farm.)

Zoro, a frequent companion of ours at the farm

Our stay at the farm was lovely--we had our own bed, and after the first night, we were moved up to our own house. It was a perfect home base for us to scout the local area--Akaka Falls, a lovely waterfall, is only about a mile from the farm. Sanji was very accommodating and drove us down to Hilo when we needed to, which was often. Our first goal was to buy a car, and this we did after a couple of days here. Most people selling cars here only accept cash (a wise decision, when doing Craigslist transactions,) and as neither Tamarah nor I have Hawaiian banks, it was a day long struggle for us to accumulate enough cash from ATMs and cash-back at grocery stores to pay for a car. Finally, at the end of the day, we were proud owners of a '92 Nissan Sentra. Red. Sexy and FULL of personality.

The Sentra

On our second day, when Sanji was still driving us everywhere, he took us to see the land that we were planning
to live on. It was undesirable, to say the least. According to Sanji, the area was rife with car thieves, wild boars, and prone to spontaneous outpours of lava. The land itself was dense DENSE jungle. Sanji, at that point, offered us the option of just living on his farm. It was an entirely tempting offer, after seeing the land....but however logical it was, we were holding on to the romantic notion we had of the three of us wahine toughing it in the jungle, by ourselves. We had a glorious, feminist, guttural desire to swing machetes at ferns and claim the land as our own. In the end, after a lovely Skype chat with Rachel, we slowly came to the conclusion that we should just stay at the farm. The farm offers its own kind of adventure. One with rampant free fruit, wild cats, and nomadic Hawaiian wannabes. We began talking of building our tent (a truly luxurious three-room Cabela's tent) somewhere on his property in exchange for us working on the farm part-time. Sanji had garden plots that needed tending to, and we seemed to be the perfect people to bring those patches of weeds to (consumable) life.

Papaya vendor at Hilo Farmer's Marker

After a week filled with fruit (so much fruit), Farmer's markets, swimming at the black sand beaches (which always have a sea turtle floating around them somewhere, very exciting!), and lounging reading during the incessant rain brought on by Tropical Storm Niala, Tamarah and I drove to Kona (on the western side of the island) to pick up Rachel. We were very excited to see Kona, if not solely for its reputation as being the dry and sunny part of the Big Island. Indeed, it was sunny (finally! finally! We were tired of being persistently wet/damp.) The sun has continued into this week, even in Hilo. It seems Hawaii just needed Rachel to bring the sun

We also now have the tent....but we might just return it. We have a perfectly good house.

Hilo is lovely, in my humble opinion. It has a modest population for the second largest city in Hawaii (around 40,000.) It also has a very authentic feel--this is a place that in some ways expects the usual Hawaiian tourists, but will not perform for them. It is an honest place. Most of the people here are of Asian or Oceanic descent. The pace here is incredibly slow and lackadaisical. Everyone takes their time doing things at their own pace and in their own way, and everyone else just kind of patiently waits for them to do so. It's a welcome pace.

Tamarah at Onekahakaha Beach Park

 Some notes from this week:

• Ginger toothpaste might sound appealing, but don't fall for it
• It's imperative to hang up towels/any wet clothes/swimsuits after they get damp/wet or everything you own will smell gross
• Wild cats can be assholes
• I'm currently reading Shark Dialogues by Kiana Davenport, an excellent read for anybody, but especially for people moving to the Big Island. It is a wonderful story and taught me so much about Hawaii's history and culture
• On that note, Hawaii should definitely be sovereign
• Also, why are white people just the worst always
• Tamarah is finally reading the Harry Potter books
• Apparently mosquito bites leave huge red welts on my body. I wanted to live with hairy legs (no shaving) but the combo of hair and dark red welts was too much for my fragile ego, and I ended up shaving.
• Sometimes planned adventures don't go as planned.

Gecko on a banana flower outside of our bedroom window