A Molokai Wedding Memory
My initial trip to Hawaii was originally planned with two girlfriends...’just 6 months,’ I had suggested. ‘...what a great adventure it will be!’
My friends opted for two weeks. I packed my belongings including my newly finished crocheted lime green, blue and yellow afghan, a drawing pad, my battle-ship gray Fuji bike. My girlfriends flew home after two weeks. Mine was a one-way ticket. I wasn’t completely alone...my sister’s friends were living there. It was a place for me to stay until I found an apartment of my own. Before not too long, I had a roommate and a waitressing job in the heart of Waikiki, bike-able distance ... my orange backpack slung on my back transporting white shoes and uniform.
As a native Bostonian, my world was small and provincial...I didn’t know many people who weren’t Irish or Italian-Catholic. Far from my familiar Irish neighborhood, at Beef ‘n Grog Restaurant, I was a minority. My new co-workers had names like Lovely, Keala, Kanani, Iris (who was a hula dancer)…and our haole boss was called ‘Father’.
I tried friendliness yet everyone seemed to keep their distance. Puzzled, I left each day wondering if I had done anything wrong.
After a couple of weeks, it seemed that overnight changes happened. My co-workers accepted me. Outwardly, we all looked the same… reddish uniform that came to just above the knees, the white ‘nurse’ shoes we used to wear, the ruffled white apron with the big pocket in front...just our skin color was different, though my pink Irish skin was slowly beginning to darken in the tropical climate.
A few months later, my friend, Keala, was attending a family wedding on Molokai and asked if I’d like to go. She said we’d be hiking also. I packed a blue and white checked halter-neck prom dress I had brought from home, and my construction boots from 8th grade for hiking, and arrived at the tiny airport in Kaanakakai where the ‘terminal building’ was a one-room wooden shack.
Beyond the tarmac, Keala stood with her two sisters and brother. She sensed their eagerness at meeting her new friend from Boston. It took no time to spot Annie descending the stairs from the small Air Molokai airplane. She watched Annie collect her red duffel bag and sling it over her pale shoulders. She’d never had a friend with pale Haule skin and freckles.
She noticed the boots dangling from Annie’s backpack and thought of their plan to hike down to Kalapaupa after the wedding.
I remember the warm hugs from Keala and her sisters and brother. I can’t say I wasn’t nervous. When I met Keala’s father, in his Pidgin English he said, ‘Eh Keala, she gon’ stand out like one sore thumb!’
I left my belongings at Hotel Molokai which happened to be next door to the home of ‘Auntie Vanny and Uncle Blah’, the hosts of the wedding.
I was shocked to walk into the single-room building, the location of the wedding just a few hours later...four blank walls and long wood-plank tables, but magic happened. Cousins and friends wielding giant garbage bags began filing in. Keala pointed to a stool and I was assigned to stripping palm tree leaves and stringing plumerias. I watched in wonder. Giant banana leaves covered the walls. Ti leaves were used to wrap around torn styrofoam pieces and with toothpicks and bold colorful newly-picked flowers, centerpieces were created. The room became an indoor garden, sweet fragrances awakening the senses.
Nearby at Auntie Vanny and Uncle Blah’s, neighbors and friends transported picnic tables, women arrived with contributions for the luau, the men helped Uncle Blah dig the pit for the roast pig.
The bride, Che, wore white and a perfume-y pale yellow pikaki haiku lei around her head. The groom, Arta, wore a white shirt, dark pants and was draped in a lush green maili lei and traditional kukui nut lei, which is a symbol of enlightenment and peace.
It is many years since that wedding, and yet the memories are still with me: ‘Pretty Grandma’ in her simple elegance as the family matriarch, the rich sense of community, gathering around picnic tables into the evening and under the stars to ‘talk stories,’ the deep family ties.