Chapter 138
The kindness of strangers.
On the Big Island of Hawaii, near Kehena beach, a small, uniquely fabulous arc of black sand bordered by raggedy volcanic rocks spitting out into the ocean. I took an afternoon walk around the subdivision, winding back and forth along the road’s edge keeping to the shadows as much as possible, my tender pale Canadian skin no match for the heat of mid-afternoon Hawaii.
Marvelling at the lush tropical greenness all around, I wandered with my head on a swivel to catch the sights; cheese plants with leaves the size of my torso wrapped thick around the trunks of screamingly tall coconut palms, hibiscus blossoms the size of soup plates, great tall trees with bursting broad canopies topped with livid deep orange flowers which, squeezed and mashed with water create a gorgeous sunset hue watercolour paint – the Royal Poinciana Trees.
I walked around admiring houses and artwork, along one stretch there came the sound of a small chainsaw. In the mid- afternoon heat, a couple of guys liberally painted in sunscreen were cutting down a coconut palm and stacking coconuts across the road. I said Aloha in passing and walked on by, only to discover the road stopped a few yards further on. I revolved and returned the way I came, again giving a nod to the working men as I passed. I heard a soft call behind me “are you thirsty? would you like a coco?”
Gosh. I turned and accepted with great enthusiasm. It’s only my second day back in Hawaii and this will be my first coconut, Mahalo! What is your name? He introduced himself as John and his partner as Ben. I stood in the middle of the road in glorious sunshine, sucking fresh coconut water from the great green fruit in my hands, dripping the excess down my face and front. Repeating my thanks, I took my leave and wandered circuitously home with coconut balanced first in one palm and then the other, held high in the air above my head, keeping my body energized and powerful, walking with head high and back straight. There is yoga to be practised everywhere.
Back in time a few days… as I prepare to depart Calgary for Maui, I am already at my friend’s house in the city. At midnight I get a text saying I shouldn’t go to my beloved Fantuzzi as he’s just come down with COVID-19, instead, Paul will pick me up & give me a bed for the night. I have spoken briefly to Paul some time in the past few months regarding Fantuzzi’s music, but I have no idea who he is or where he lives or what he does.
From -27 with a windchill to -40, I escape Calgary. It took some time with the confusion of personnel absences due to COVID-19, lengthy security, planes that occupied the gate ours needed. The ground crew had to retreat inside to thaw out for a while before they could escort our plane off the property… having taxied to the end of the runway, we then stopped for another 10 minutes on the tarmac to be thoroughly deiced before liftoff.
Nearly 3 hours late after all the entertainment, everyone was remarkably relaxed… the prospect of warmth and sun at the other end is a great leavening agent. As we flew west, I enjoyed my view of the fast- receding Rockies. This time, the peaks were spectacular – stunning rippling edges of winter mountains, jagged teeth tearing the lips of the land apart, rearing up snugged in snow and blown about the peaks by white whips of lacerating cold snow-ice- wind. And then… we were above the roiling clouds, travelling at no speed and all speed over the cotton wool prairies of the sky.
Eventually the clouds dissipated and the steel Pacific rippled like a sheet of glossed satin far below. Finally, as the sky was losing the brilliance of blue day and tongues of apricot promise flicked out from the horizon, the dark blue-purple-grey silhouette of Maui island gleamed forth from the edge of the sea. The looming island was swathed about its hips with low cloud, the volcanic land crumpling into the sea, waiting for us to land.
Paul arrived to pick me up, asking if I needed anything from anywhere on the way home. I discover I am, after all, on the way to Hale Akua, a friend’s retreat and organic farm. I had originally planned to be at Hale Akua a few days before heading to the Big Island, before dates and plans shifted.
I woke to the sounds of the jungle, the sun rising at the foot of the bed. After I was sure the paying guest had left and I would not disturb, I crept down to the stone deck outside, lay down my towel and performed two Surya Namaskar to the rising sun. Then I sat to play my harp in the warm morning sunlight as the heat increased and the sound of the waterfall below provided a pleasant background. What bliss! Stunningly green. The shock of viridian after the strict beauty of Alberta’s winter tones is an assault upon the senses. I love this.
Paul is a delight. We talked, practised Qi Gong in various shady places with lush green underfoot. We ate a delicious breakfast/lunch of salad and many varieties of sauerkraut, then he gave me a 45-min Shiatsu session before heading out again for the airport. We talked of writing and books and made vague plans to remain in contact and discuss the potential of doing some work together. We stopped at the end of the drive to our other friend’s house where Fantuzzi had walked up (his first walk anywhere since he got COVID-19). I am bouncing up and down with excitement, but we cannot get close to each other yet. Just to see him in person makes my body sing, it was a crazy reintroduction after two years apart.
I said farewell to my newest friend Paul at the airport. I’m so glad I braved the trepidation and trauma of travel to be here again. My beloved Fantuzzi is a little smaller than last time I saw him, energy not yet back to his magnificent fullness, but the brilliant spark of life and lust for living is still as strong as ever. Long may it continue!
With gratitude and love,
Kat Dancer
bodymudra@gmail.com
403-931-3866 (h)
+1 415 525 2630 (c)
