Ohm shanti shanti shanti

When I get home and people begin to ask me "How was Hawaii?! Wasn't it amazing?," I truly don't know what I'm going to say. Of course it has been amazing -- I've swam in the Pacific Ocean at both white and black sand beaches, jumped into rivers surrounded by waterfalls and made friends with locals. I can say with certainty that this has been the most amazing experience of my life, but I can also say that the majority of these amazing things have occurred on weekends. That being said, if every weekend is a dream, every weekday has been very close to a nightmare.
There is nothing better to describe my entire experience here than the position that I am currently in: surrounded by hippies, drinking out of a mason jar, watching a movie about plants and smelling like mildew.
When we signed up to come to this place, we were asked to bring or buy organic shampoos and soaps; how cute, we thought: we're going to be living off the land. We pictured standing in the field together, swinging pick axes, singing Wade in the Water, shielding ourselves from the hot tropical sun with big beautiful sunhats. There have been pick axes and singing, but that was just about the end of the similarities between our dream trip and the "reality" that we've been living here.
As I sit here scratching my bug bites, I am reminded of our first day on the Big Island: we were picked up and given leis at the airport and taken into Hilo, the large city on our side of the island, where we shopped around in natural foods stores and a farmers' market. We were overwhelmed with excitement: "We're in Hawaiiiiiii!" we chanted as we walked along the sidewalks, gazing at dirty men playing ukuleles and kicking chihuahuas. We decided to buy some things at the market, thinking that farmers' markets and natural food stores would be our only chance to buy our own food (necessary because they only feed us two meals a day -- and I use the word "meal" very loosely). Our guide and boss for the month insisted that we try a local favorite drink at her favorite spot while we were in town. "You guys have to try the kava bar while we're here. It's this amazing drink with amazing effects; you'll love it!," she kept saying. Hell yeah, we thought; first day here and we're going to a bar in the middle of the day. The drink that we tasted should have been a HUGE hint at what the rest of our time here would be like: halved coconuts were placed in front of us and we were served kava, a brownish watery substance, out of a cauldron that was perched on the bar. As we were led through the kava drinking ceremony -- splashing some on the floor (for the homies who couldn't make it to the party), into the air (for Biggie and Tupac up in the sky), over our shoulders (?) and then clapping twice -- we threw it back. Or at least tried to. We were later informed that the "kava" from which this drink is made is a root grown in Hawaii. And you know what? That's exactly what it tasted like. A root. More specifically, the dirt that the root came out of. I opted out of drinking the rest of mine despite the promise of its magical effects: a relaxation and apparent close-to-drunkenness. Not worth it. I watched my friends get a taste for the liquefied dirt and when they finished, we headed to the farm (first stopping at another natural foods store, "The Natch," it's affectionately called here, where we got a delicious lunch from a buffet).
We arrived at our cute little cabin -- jungalow -- and unloaded our things, then were shown around the farm. Again, we were so excited. We spent our first night in the spa and settled into our cozy beds, happier than ever to be in one of the most beautiful places on Earth.
Come Monday, we were in for a reality check: we weren't here for paradise, we were here to learn and to work. We quickly jumped on the available job of housekeeping, the idea of which kept us entertained for at least two weeks, but we were also required to work on the land two days a week, which was quite the experience. On our first day on the land, we spent about 37 hours laying down cardboard and then mulching a mud pit. Having been forced to spread mulch for nearly my entire life at home, this seemed like it was going to be a piece of cake. And it was -- aside from the constant hoards of bugs and the downpours of rain that occurred every five minutes. We were told that summer on the island is the dry season, but you could've fooled me. All rain, all day. I sadly forfeited my hopes for returning to the mainland with a beautiful bronze tan only a few days into the trip. I'm sure most of you know that if it even seems like it's going to rain in Chapel Hill, the chances of me even getting out of bed are slim to none; so waking up to the sound of rain on our tarp roof (very similar to a blitz gunfire) and going out to work in it was not one of my favorite things about Hawaii, to say the least.
If there's anything that I've enjoyed less than the bugs and the rain this month, it's the food. Our first "all natural" food experience was breakfast on Monday: a "chocolate" smoothie and oatmeal. Oh my god, a chocolate smoothie. For breakfast! These people really know how to live, I thought. I don't know if any of you have tasted raw cacao, but it is absolutely nothing like the Hershey bar that it can eventually be made into. This smoothie looked, smelled and tasted like dirt and the oatmeal wasn't much different. Lunch consisted of little more than a bowl of leaves and maybe a soup, none of which interested me. This is advertised as a cleansing retreat, so I'll just cleanse for an entire month. I set out on a mission to fast for an entire month, but that quickly ended on the first night after work when I thought I was starving to death. Luckily I eventually developed not only a taste for, but a love for quinoa, which is served most days at lunch. It's sticky and heavy and gives me some of the protein I need to half-ass the slave work I was expected to do every day. After two weeks, even this routine got old, and we biked into town to stock up on MSG at the drug store. I still eat quinoa and drink water all day during the day, but come nighttime in the confines and secrecy of our jungalow, I stuff myself with delicacies including Oreos, Cheetoes, Ritz Crackers and, mostly importantly, Pepsi. So for any of you who were expecting me to come home fit and tan, I am sorry to let you down. I'll be coming home exactly how I left.
My time on the farm hasn't been all bad, I suppose. I'm here with my best friends and I have a comfortable bed and the jungle is very beautiful every now and then when the rain lets up. The farm where we're staying offers several beneficial classes and events, which we have been trying to take full advantage of. Our first class was hula, which is a lot harder than it looks, especially when you're just thrown with no training into warm-ups with the royal court dancers. I found the love of my life in that hula class. I immediately forgot his name after we were introduced, but I will never forget the sight of tightly wrapped sarong as he danced in front of me.
Perhaps the biggest surprise for me here has been how much I've enjoyed yoga. It always seemed fun, but the only experience with practicing yoga that I came here with was the one time my friend forced me to go with her freshman year; our teacher had a lisp and I could barely stretch my fingers past my kneecaps. Needless to say, I never saw myself doing yoga again. But hey, I'm in Hawaii and I'm supposed to be relaxing, so why not? The first week of yoga was nice, but in our second week, I fell in love with our yoga instructor Maura. Not only is she beautiful, but her voice is the closest to heaven I have ever been and the closest I will likely ever get. She's been the only person here so far that doesn't judge us and she sings along when I tell her in song how much I love her. Every yoga session with her leaves me near tears and melting into the mat. Our second week of yoga with her was perhaps one of the most transformative experiences of my life. She called it "restorative yoga" and if you haven't tried it, I highly recommend it; though I'm not sure of how effective it will be without the voice of our angel there to guide you. At the end of every class, we end with an "Ohm shanti shanti shanti," which I've adopted as my new motto. If you ever see this, Maura, thank you again. Please call me and/or send me a recording of your voice.

Saying Aloha to my struggles

As my month in Hawaii begins to tip over the halfway point, I'd like to make it known that it's not as glamorous as it sounded. A typical day for me here consists of hippies, dirt and bugs and only those things. But more on that later. 

If you've been in contact with me for the past year and a half, you probably know how much of a mess my life has been. It started when I was invaded by a demon or two or six in December of 2011. Ever since then, I've done nothing but struggle. Sometimes the struggles are small; sometimes they're big. Sometimes I sneeze every minute on the minute; sometimes my computer crashes when I open it up to use it for an exam. Sometimes my phone won't send text messages; sometimes my car breaks down on the interstate. Big or small, laughable or panic-inducing, struggles have been present for what seems like a lifetime. I tried to convince myself that this demon would be kind enough to leave me alone for a month while I try to relax in the Aloha State. I wasn't foolish enough to believe that my travels would be struggle-free, but I hoped and prayed to everyone and everything that things would go smoothly. The results reminded me why I never pray in the first place.

The pre-Hawaii struggle began when I spent nearly $3000 in one week -- a week I began with just under $1000. I won't bore you with those details, but I will just say that I am very grateful to my amazing parents for their help and support. The struggle continued when I got sick, went to Campus Health (who, as usual, could not tell me what was wrong with me), and had the pleasure of picking my phone up off the concrete and basking in the beauty of a newly shattered screen. An easy fix, especially with an Apple store so close to me, but the aforementioned bank account problems put a halt to thinking about phone repairs fairly quickly. Luckily I can record this on my list of small struggles, as my phone is still functioning just fine (aside from a charging scare I had last week). Next I had an issue with the USB ports on my replacement computer, which was a dire issue considering I needed a way to sync all my new music for my 12+ hours on a plane and month in Hawaii that were approaching. 

"The way my life is going, I bet the plane won't even take off next week." 

A dramatic reaction to a computer problem (that was easily fixed after a lot of tears and a lot of damage to my hair and scalp), maybe. But inaccurate it was not. My roommate managed to fix the first problem of our departure day by finding a replacement ride to the airport after our original ride canceled; hopes and prayers that that would be our only struggle again went unanswered, as our flight was delayed after boarding due to mechanical issues. Not a big deal for a relatively relaxed person like me, but the issue lay in the fact that we had a fairly short layover for our connection flight in Detroit. Once the plane finally took off, we literally ran with a nice couple who was also on their way to HI to catch our next flight. And if you know me, you know that running is something I like to keep to a minimum (even though running on the moving sidewalks was pretty exhilarating). We made that flight: major struggle avoided. We made it to Seattle with plenty of time to catch our next connection -- that is, we would have made our connection had our flight attendant from Detroit not sent us in circles to find our gate, which was right beside the gate at which we just arrived. So after running down about a mile of stairs, taking about 37 trains in circles, we get to the gate she told us to go to, where we're informed (very rudely) that we are in fact at the wrong gate and that we need to go back to where we came from. So again we board the trains and run back up those miles of stairs and we make it to where we're supposed to be with seven minutes to spare before our departure time. Struggle avoided again, right? Wrong. At this point we were informed (again, very rudely) that we were not allowed to get on the plane that was sitting right in front of us with people still standing under it because they stop boarding at a ridiculously inconvenient time, something like eight minutes before departure. So we're pretty much shooed away and told that there is no hope for our trip to Hawaii. After a very forceful phone call to a Delta representative by my roommate, we were transferred to another flight with a Delta partner. Struggle fixed, right? If you've been following, you can probably guess that the answer is a big ol' WRONG. We get to Alaskan airlines (miles of stairs and 37 trains later) and we're told that we can't get on yet another flight; I don't know if the aforementioned Delta representative just made up the fact that she got us on another flight or if the people running the Alaskan Airlines desk are just trained to be as difficult as possible, but they tell us that the plane is full and there's no way we can get on it. "We only have one seat open," they told us. After some more demanding, which was approaching a screaming hissy fit from the three of us, we're put on the plane (which meant that either the plane actually had more than one empty seat or two people were kicked off -- at this point I really didn't care which). So after a major internal struggle over whether or not to pay $10 for in-flight entertainment, deciding to forgo it, taking a sleeping pill and popping in my headphones, it was smooth sailing over the open seas from Seattle to Oahu, where we surprisingly managed to check in to our cute hotel, find food and get to sleep without a hitch. I even got to settle my craving for fried rice the next morning while waiting for our flight to the Big Island. It seemed like the rest of the trip was going to go smoothly with little to no struggles. Right? Stay tuned.