Coconut Cream Pie

Yesterday's highlight was coconut cream pie.

That said, we've been experiencing some racial tension in our little paradise vacation neighborhood. On our first day here two little native Hawaiian girls road up to the end of the cul-de-sac where we are in these cool little motorized cars. Erlan, who can be a bit of a gaper sometimes, just stood staring at them. He was already tired and feeling a bit fragile when one of the girls said "what are you staring at?"; he was struck dumb and couldn't reply so she told him if he didn't stop staring she would beat him up. He started to cry. Soon an older sister came to tell us that her sister had ADHD and if she, the little sister, bothered Erlan again she, the big sister, would beat her up. My guess is that Erlan was both fascinated by the little motor car and by seeing children with skin color close to his own.

Yesterday when we got back from our sand and surf outing a little boy was literally prowling around the back of the house and when we surprised him, he dashed off with a small nerf ball Erlan had brought from home. Eventually, I asked for the ball back and invited the boy to stay and play. He handed over the ball and left with his little sister (the six year old who made Erlan cry). Later in the day, the six year old, Anilla, came to ask to borrow the ball to play with. Erlan handed it over with the expectation that it would be brought back. A few hours later when the ball had not been returned, Ren became incensed and decided he and Erlan would go over there with their nerf GUNS and demand the ball back. I said absolutely not, they hadn't given a time line on the borrowing and they would just have to wait. Ren pretty much had a tantrum, Erlan was crest fallen, and I was a total bitch. This was a $2 little spongy ball for fuck sake; let it go. Soon three siblings returned, Alika the boy who originally tried to take the ball, Anilla the six year old who threatened to beat up my son, and Nila the 4 year old on training wheels. The story was that the ball had gone to the dump. Totally unbelievable but that's the story they stuck to.

Over the course of an hour we agreed that if the ball "turned up" they would bring it back, as Ren and Erlan only have a few toys here, and then we would leave it for them when we go. The children told us that their mother owns all of the houses on the street and she is a millionaire. When I asked if they have a lot of kids in there school, Anilla said "no mostly Haoles". I said "you mean like us?" and she said "no, you're mixed". Now I am truly about as white as they come (actually yesterday I thought I could get away with SPF30 instead of SPF50 so today I'm pink) except for the freckles and age spots, so they obviously were talking about Erlan. I don't know if our mixed status gives us a sort of cache with the kids or it makes us worse.

There is definitely a huge disparity on the Island with regard to housing. I spoke at length with shop girl who has lived here for nine years and she said the biggest problem is that son many of these rentals go empty while there is almost no affordable housing for locals who have to work three and four jobs to afford the extremely high rent when they actually can find housing.
John is pretty freaked out by the whole thing, probably because he can empathize given our situation on the West Boulder. I think it's important to be aware of race and class issues, and class, and especially economic disparities when we travel to other regions, states, or countries. It's not just about the sand, surf, and lush landscape. It's also about the history, the people, and the culture, and our tutors are a rag tag bunch of local siblings. I wonder what lessons they have in store for us today?

Comments

[Rebecca Hintze]

Exactly what you just wrote about is why I mostly hate Hawaii...the racial/class disparity is huge, and I can never figure out why no one ever talks about the whities who took over Hawaii...was that cultural genocide? Is it still? I feel so out of place there...not rich enough to be a good tourist and too white to hang with the locals.
How were the lychee martinis?