Oceania: Day 2: 7-4-94: Oahu: Honolulu, Waikiki And The Polynesian Cultural Center

As it turned out, my quest for rest last night was rather futile, as there is a limit to how comfortable one can get in a semi-recumbent position -- I caught a fitful hour or so of pseudo-sleep, but it did little to relieve my exhaustion. When we finally arrived in Honolulu at 12:21 a.m. (nine minutes early - another Air New Zealand perk, apparently), I had spent a combined 12 hours in airplanes and nearly that long in LAX, and I was ready to drop dead. I quickly collected my luggage and made my bleary-eyed way to the airport "hotel" (conveniently located within the terminal itself), where I slapped down my credit card and collapsed on the bed. . .

To my surprise, I awoke at 7:30 a.m., a full hour earlier than planned. This gave me time to take a leisurely shower and read a bit in one of my guidebooks (the descriptions and maps provided a nice Oahu orientation -- I learned a little about my current location on the island, as well as the adjacent areas). At 8:30, I left the airport in search of the cheapest way to get to the Waikiki YHA Hostel, where I planned to dump my stuff before seeing the town. Passersby told me that (not surprisingly) the most inexpensive mode of transport was definitely the city bus (cost = $.85). Unfortunately, since it was a holiday (Happy 4th of July, by the way!), the bus was on a truncated schedule, running but once an hour. I didn't have a schedule, so I knew I might find myself with a long wait at the bus stop, but I decided to chance it.

While waiting for the bus, I met Rodney. While he himself had only moved to Hawaii 2 months ago, he was a walking (and talking) compendium of Hawaiian knowledge. He told me everything I'd ever need to know (and more) about where to go, what to see, and whom to meet. I also met two fellow backpackers from Nice, France. Like Jo and Colin (a friendly couple from Bath, England, whom I met in LAX after Laszlo and absentmindedly forgot to mention), Kathleen and Ragian were taking a year "holiday" around the world (They just quit their jobs and left -- boy, those Europeans sure know how to live life!)

The four of us chatted until the bus came, whereupon we settled back (as well as we could with backpacks, anyway) for our one-hour journey from Honolulu to Waikiki. During the jaunt, I met a family from Connecticut on vacation, as well as their extremely attractive Au Pair from Norway.

Upon arriving at the youth hostel, (around 10:00), I paid for 3 nights' lodging, gratefully learned there was no curfew, and "checked-in" to my room. Unfortunately, I didn't get to meet my roomies -- they were all out and about, it seemed (except one hard partier, who was still asleep). I proceeded to (quietly) drop off all my baggage and emptied out my knapsack of all but the travelling essentials. Then I went out in search of a place to eat my breakfast and plan my day.

I found a diner of sorts, where I splurged on a bowl of plain yogurt, granola and pineapple (I had to try my first fresh Hawaiian pineapple). I leafed through some tourist magazines that were laying around, and I found a place Scott and Shawna had mentioned -- The Polynesian Cultural Center. For roughly $70, I could spend the whole day there. The price included round-trip transportation, an Imax movie, admission to the cultural center, an authentic luau and "the world's most spectacular Polynesian revue": Mana! The Spirit of Our People. I was hooked. So be it!

I called up the PCC, and I was told that there was indeed still time to go today -- the bus would pick me up at the neighboring Hyatt at 11:40.

The bus ride itself was enjoyable and educational. The tour guide taught us all about Dole Pineapple, banana trees (there are over 70 varieties!) and the majestic vertical valleys carved into the lush mountains around us (the product of natural erosion, caused by millennia of wind and rain).

Finally, we arrived at our destination. I soon learned that the Polynesian Cultural Center is a showcase for the seven major groups of islands (Hawaii, Samoa, Tonga, Fiji, Tahiti, The Marquesas and New Zealand) which form the Polynesian Triangle, the center of Polynesian Culture. The PCC was, in fact, a microcosm of these Polynesian islands. All seven groups of islands are recreated in the cultural center, featuring genuine housing, tools, weapons, crafts, technology, language, songs, dances, music, customs and people. Most of the people "inhabiting" these islands are students from the local Brigham Young University (both the school and the PCC are funded by the Church For Jesus Christ Of The Latter Day Saints), and the majority of these individuals are actual natives of the islands they represent. The Polynesian students, combined with a handful of indigenous children and seniors, led an aura of authenticity to the cultural center.

-------------------A Native Of Tonga In Traditional Dress--------------

As I browsed through the seven island exhibits, I had the opportunity to see several live presentations. I saw Hula dancers in Hawaii (the ridiculous sight of the tourists' pathetic attempts to copy the natives cured me of any inclination I might personally have had to give it a try), drum beaters in Tonga (the only Kingdom left in Polynesia), face-painted storytellers in New Zealand, hip wiggling dancers in Tahiti and Fijian "Fire Walkers" (the performers took leisurely, barefoot strolls across white-hot rocks).

--------------------------------Fijian Fire Walkers-----------------------------

But of all the varied cultural presentations which I witnessed, Samoa was definitely my favorite. The Samoan representative was lively, funny, knowledgeable (he dispensed info in multiple languages, to boot) and very entertaining. He taught me that the most important resource in Samoa is the coconut. It's used for food, beverage, fuel, clothing, etc., and many of the Samoan myths and celebrations revolve around the coconut. He proceeded to scale a giant coconut tree bare-handed, husk and split a coconut (using nothing more than a small rock for assistance -- I couldn't believe it!) and share some coconut milk (as opposed to coconut juice, which he hilariously warned us was a powerful laxative) with the audience.

-------------------The Samoan Fetches A Coconut . . .----------------

--------------------------Bangs It With A Rock . . .---------------------------

-----------------------And Pours Out a Tropical Treat!--------------------

-----------------------------(Simple As That, Eh?!)-----------------------------

The final presentation I saw was a "canoe show", in which all seven of the Polynesian cultures took part. In turn, representatives from each island rowed by on a giant canoe, enacting a myth as they passed by.

Soon it was time for my first Hawaiian Luau (unless you count the vicarious one I shared with the Brady Bunch as a child) -- during this unlimited buffet, I feasted on baked pig (it was served with the head intact [albeit, sans apple-in-mouth]), poi (a purplish gooey substance made of crushed taro, which had the consistency and taste of wallpaper paste), baked taro (basically, purple sweet potatoes) and lots of fresh pineapple & other fruits. I swigged several glasses of guava juice to wash it all down. It was indeed a tasty feast, but I was rather disappointed that we sat at a picnic table rather than on the ground (like the aforementioned Brady's). While we dined, some adorable Polynesian children entertained us with native songs and dances.

-------Yummy Pig Head -- Save Me The Snout, Please!----------

After dinner, I had enough time before the "big show" to take a canoe tour through all seven islands. The two guides pushed us through the water with long poles (just like gondoliers). At each port, native representatives sang and danced for us. It was relaxing, educational and enjoyable, and the guides were quite humorous.


------------------------------------The Canoe Tour-----------------------------

Just as my canoe tour finished up, it was time for "Mana", the much anticipated finale of the day. Over 100 fully costumed Polynesians performed a full scale revue of their cultural heritage. There was singing and dancing galore, but my favorite part of the show can be summed up in one word: fire! For starters, three Samoans with large grass skirts sat on top of burning rugs, feigning terror in a clownish manner. Comically, yet skillfully, they pushed each other on top of the flames, eventually extinguishing them. But this was just a warm-up (no pun intended). The really hot stuff (pun intended) was yet to come. The very same Samoan who gave the coconut presentation earlier in the day came out next, and he wowed the crowd with the most amazing juggling I'd ever seen. He ate fire and juggled several flaming batons at once. He threw the fiery clubs higher and higher, climaxing with an incredible vertical toss some 60 feet up into the air. Amazing!

As I was heading back to the hostel on the bus, I was told by some fellow passengers that the show I had just seen was the most sensational Polynesian revue around. I was assured, in fact, that any others I might go on to see would be a let-down. I think I'll follow this advice and quit while I'm ahead. My one regret of the evening: no 4th of July fireworks (I'm a sucker for tradition, I guess).