“To travel is to live”

 Hans crhistian anderson    

All I want is to sit down and rest; not go anywhere for months. A flight from Minnesota to Texas, and now an 8-hour flight from Texas to Hawai’i. It’s been four hours; all I want is to get off this stinky and sticky plane. Stretch and smell the fresh air of Maui. And sleep and eat for hours until my body falls apart. Every summer is always go go go, never stopping and taking a breather. My parents never allow themselves to relax for one minute. Every summer we do at least 5 camping trips, and maybe a more significant trip in the winter every other year. 

I try to fall asleep like my sisters do, but I jerk awake every time we hit a bump. So instead I watch a movie on the screen. Every 5 minutes it seems, I check the time. Checking how much longer I have to stay on this god-forsaken plane. Yes, it probably will be worth it but right now if I was given a choice between this flight or gardening. I would choose gardening. And I hate gardening. I stay watching the movie for the next 20 minutes, but give up once I get bored again. I scroll through my phone, choosing the music I want to listen to but can’t decide. Finally, I find a couple of songs to listen to and look out the window like a loner. I do it for hours, every hour or so I try to eat and drink if the flight attendants come by. Going to the bathroom a couple of times. And repeat, repeat, repeat until a large mountain comes into view. Excitement rolls in me, I hit my sisters awake, basically pulling open their eyelids until they see the island instead of the dark ocean. The pilot makes an announcement saying we made it. And the flight starts to become noisy as people want to look out the windows. After 20 minutes of coming in, we hit the runway; I can feel the heat coming inside the plane. Shorts. I should’ve worn shorts. It takes a couple of minutes until the plane gets in its place to let us off, but eventually, we thank the flight attendants and pilots for the safe flight over. Then we step into the airport; the hot sticky air hits us. And now I’m praying that the airplane ride was worth all of this. 

It’s the very first day in Maui and we’re going in a helicopter. As we get checked in, I quietly pray to God hoping that I don’t fall over the edge and I’m able to wear one of those headphone sets that they were in the movies. They give us wind protecting jackets and a case for our phones; we head out to where we’ll get in the helicopter. The pilot is already sitting in the helicopter and wearing one of those headphone sets. Excitement rolls in me again. They first tell us instructions on how to get in, what to do and what not to do. Then they first take the people sitting in the back, my mom, dad, sister, and a girl that is riding with us. As they get in, I can barely stand still I’m so excited. I can barely hear anything over the strong winds and sounds the helicopter makes. The instructors then take me and my other sister to sit in the front next to the pilot. They strap my sister in first, then me. I want to scream so bad. They’re giving us the headphones. My leg shakes as part of my arm sticks out of the place where the door is supposed to be but isn’t. We got a no-door helicopter. This is going to be amazing. Once the pilot starts to talk to us, I figure out that I can’t speak through the headphones only listen. But I guess it's fine because this dude puts on good music before we start to fly up. We head over to the ocean and he gives a bit of a cool history island on the places that we passed. Then we spot a couple of whales below us so we stop for a few minutes to look at them. He turns up the music and we just listen until we get to our next stop. That 15 hours flight was worth it. After about 45 minutes from all the beauty and history the pilot shows and tells us, we head next to one of the largest waterfalls on the island next to Maui. Exhiluation flows through me as we got close to the waterfall. So close to it that small drizzles hit me and I could reach out and touch the water. 

Even after 2 days, I can’t stop thinking about the helicopter ride. I try to keep all the things I saw in my head but it gets harder every time I forget that we went. The sun warms my skin as we relax on a beach, the sound of waves clashing making me want to go swimming and fall asleep. Makenna lathers on sunscreen as Abby sleeps until she burns. Mom watches the birds go by, and dad is so independent that he can swim alone. I reach for my water, remembering the best I can from 2 days ago. But I miss parts of it each time. I lean forward, too board to sit here. I ask my sister to go swimming. When she agrees, we take the buggy boards and head in. After sitting in the sun for hours the cold water feels like heaven. We make it next to our dad who just swims for hours. I and my sister try to boggy board the waves but it never works. So I give up but Makenna keeps going with a huge smile. The third time of trying the wave finally takes her, bringing her close to the shore and then the water collides on top of her. Laughter runs through my entire body, then I go try it. And it does the same thing to me. My body is pulled together, my head by my feet. It’s so much fun that we can't stop doing it until we turn into slugs. But once we get tired of the water, not that I ever could anymore. We head back to the car to go get ready for our dinner reservation at Mama’s Fish House. I hope it lives up to its name because I have some space to fill with food. 

It’s now the start of the second week, and we stand in line to get into the Luau. When we get to the start of the line, the greeter gives us each a special lei. It itches my neck a bit but I can’t stop smiling as we walk to our seats. Everyone greets us as we walk by, which only makes me happier. Even if it pretends hellos, I still beam as we get to our seats. But I want to squeal like a 3-year-old because our seats are right in front of the stage with no chairs but cushions. I look around, taking in the entire luau. Fire torches above the stage, drums on the side, and so much more. We wait a few minutes before one of our waiters greets us, taking our drink order. I order a virgin pina colada. We get the drinks a few minutes later and we all try each other because it's tradition. For the first hour, we eat the food and drink a whole bunch of pina Coladas. The food makes me ascend into heaven it's so good. They take away our dishes and then get refills just as the show starts. Dancers came out in beautiful outfits. Clothes that I wasn’t expecting but I love. I tried to do research but it wasn’t fully successful. The woman in the middle starts talking about the history and culture of Hawai’i that I never even knew about. And I can’t stop watching the dances, listening to the drums beat, and the tale the woman tells that we, Americans, have never taught in schools. I always thought America took in Hawai’i because they needed help and stuff, but I never truly knew that America stole Hawai’i from the Native Pacific people. As the woman tells the story of what happened to her people and how they choose to carry on the culture, the dancers show the story in a way that makes my jaw drop with their moves and clear telling of the story. I get lost in it, not even paying attention to anyone else or anything around me. Only my mind picturing what happened; what is still happening. By the time we leave, I barely think or breathe. I was so mesmerized by the dancing, singing, beauty, culture, and history all in one place at a time. I don’t talk on the way home, only replaying the Luau over and over again in my head. Never forget a single word or move or beat of the drum. 

I sit on a similar seat that I sat on at the beginning of the trip. Now it’s the end. I might not be crying but I fell in love with Maui. Not just with the beauty of the island but the way it made me feel, think, the sound of the ocean, the birds, every single thing and person on that island made me fall in love with it every day I woke up. And even after those 2 weeks, I don’t think I will ever forget what Hawai’i taught me. Not just about America, and what school never taught me but that I have grown up in a small bubble and have barely learned anything else except what white rich men and women do. Americans only, and that being American is that we are the best, that we have the freedom of everything. We have grown up in a bubble around the US; the younger generations have only been taught what the older generations have thought America is the best. ‘This is what it is to be an American, or you can’t have a different culture, religion, gender, sexuality, or women are meant to be mothers and fathers are meant to be the workers’, and so on. And for the past couple of years, I haven’t been too proud to be called an American because of what is happening in our country but Hawai’i taught me that, yes America has made big mistakes and it’s not perfect. But every single country has made a mistake; America isn’t the best country. I don’t think there is any best country because each country is different and has a toxic government or not. Being American isn’t all this or whatever, and yes it has some great things. But now from going to Hawai’i, not only am I okay with being called an American but I’m proud of being called a person who lives in this world; can at least make a small dent in all the sh*t that is happening around the world. Every single person, no matter who they are, they are a person who lives in this world and they deserve to live in this world.