Preface: I'm about to do a little piece likely to offend one and all. People are telling me all the time that I'm pretty good at this. (Jan H. you're a sport, champ). Please hit the back button now if you're easily offended.
Ah, nothing like a little young love to spice up and inspire in the afternoon. In this case it was a wedding. A Hawaiian wedding. In my experience there are only three flavors of weddings. Hawaiian weddings, weddings attended by Canadians and, finally, all the rest. My sister married a Canadian from Toronto. Canadian weddings, at least the one I've been to, are long but enjoyable Dionysus approved bacchanalic saturnalia. Canadians as people, I stereotype, represent the one nationality above all others capable of really throwing a PARTY. I think that's enough said.
Mainland weddings are well, weddings. You've been to them - some more fun that others to be sure but still...
It's a natural human tendency to take for granted that which is abundant - like the love of your wife. The gentle rain. A warm cat curled up in your lap. The sunrise coming up over Diamond Head. And, taking a literary timeout, cacthing a really bitchin' wave - the kind that brings your heart into your throat and reminds you that you're alive. I really love living in Hawaii. It's simply the best place I've ever lived. So naturally, I tend to take for granted many of the things that are the "i'pono" (righteously good) inherent things of Hawaii. So grab your surfboards, gentle readers, 'cause we're gonna ride the nose.
A lot of tourists come to Hawaii every year. Hell, that's our number one industry - tourism. A lot of them never get out of that price-gouging, congested, stinking hole they call Waikiki. The majority croon, "Oh it was beautiful. Trade winds blowing through our over priced hotel. Sunsets on the crowded Waikiki beach, etc. etc, yawn. That's not Hawaii. Folks, you have to get into the culture - interact with the Kama'aina (locals). The amazing thing is, that this principle applies to anywhere you visit but so few people do. It's not for everyone I suppose. There are those that enjoy sitting in their over priced hotel rooms eating overpriced food. That's fine. Hawaii loves you. But for those that want a bit more - it's out there. You just have to know where to look.
That's where weddings come in. A forced party if you will. In this case a forced cultural immersion. I love these kinds of apercus being the amateur study of human psychology that I am.
Let me start at the beginning.
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This is the groom. I've known Gavin about ten years now. He moved here from Singapore in search of, I suppose, the American dream. He's a good a guy. We hit it off right away but that isn't what this blog is about. |
This blog is about all the people that came from the mainland to attend this wedding. You know the forced cultural immersion thingy.
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Here's Crystal, the bride. |
Yep. She's a big girl but a sweetheart. She teaches "special-needs" children. Guess you need a large frame to hold that big of a heart. |
This story, though, is primarily about the mainland folk; the quintessential ladies and gentlemen from Indiana and Ohio, from California and Kansas - distant relatives of the bride who had somehow made their way out of Waikiki and into the Maunawili valley for the wedding. They showed up in their Sunday-go-to-meetin' dresses and suits only to run into the master of ceremonies - our one and only antie Tutu:
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The shock and sometimes utter disdain for this whole scene that they are now somehow (why me?) thrust into is almost palpable. How could anyone, let alone, the majority, come to a wedding wearing, my oh my!, shorts and flip-flops (that's what they call slippers on the mainland). Howard, take me home. We must be in the wrong place. The ceremony was performed mostly in Hawaiian. Bully for most not speaking the language. The vows, however, were in english. |
Admittedly the scene is sort of crazy. Na keiki (children) who arrived as proverbial ring bearers in miniature tuxes are now running around sans shirts banging the back of my chair each and every time they whisk by me. I'm sympathizing all the while about those poor Indiana folks in their suits and ties in this eighty degree weather. A nice trade wind is blowing though and I look at the growing cloud cover with some concern...
Slowly but undeniably surely, something begins to happen.
Hawaii is, for the most part, a classless society. Not to say, that we don't have any class but instead social distinctions are more blurred. I know what you're thinking, "tell that to the janitor in Waianae working three jobs to make ends meet such as they are." Yeah, yeah, some people make more money than others. All I'm saying is, they were also invited to this party right along with Pat Morita and a whole slew of other celebrities. The wedding was outdoors - less pretension - comfortable. My friend, Chrystal (the bride), is nothing if not connected. The three bands playing at her wedding did so pro bono as well as the second MC - a local radio DJ. That's the kind of person she is.
Anyway, as I've said, something began to change. The suits began to loosen their ties and loosen their souls which for now I'll call inhibitions but it's really not the equivalent. They began to perceive that things here were somehow ontologically different here. Wow, these people are friendly. They don't give a rat's ass how much money we make or what size SUV we drive. Without conscious perception an apostasy occurred with the mainlanders, in their suits and ties, and suddenly they were somehow transformed into a euphoric state of the moment. The women kicked off their heels and were dancing with the locals and having the time of their lives. The men threw off their coats and ties and just "had a beer".
It was one of those nights. You know the drill - spontaneous always beats the planned in terms of fun. Some of the best parties I've been to occurred on a Wednesday night. Still, this was one of those nights. I bet they go back to Indiana with some real stories to tell. Now that's a vacation!
Not a bad setting for a wedding eh?
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Bride doing hula for her new husband.
It's all good. Love to both of you - I know you read this blog. |
10:13:43 AM 
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