Mahalo from Aloha land

First, the clouds.

We were set early Tuesday morning to flex our rotund midsection to the strums of the Hawaiian uke to “pearly shells” but when we showed up for the early Continental flight to Guam, we were rudely awakened by the fact that the Saipan flight to Oahu via Guahan is now considered a domestic flight, limiting free check-in luggage to one. I showed up with two pieces of files and materials, not having bothered perusing the fine print on the ticket bought in the Internet.

We’ve taken the flight before we shifted to going through Japan the last few years since we let loose sharp comments when we coincidentally were booked on the last Continental flight from Saipan to Manila as they ceased operating the route. The forgiving type, and knowing the shorter travel time to Diamond head via Hagatña, we decided to give Continental a second chance. The extra bag charge cost us 30 bowls of wonton soup where I hang my mitts! That’s a pocketful of ¥uan!

With the U.S. visa-waver situation in the CNMI and Guam, one still has to go through Immigration officers but one does so for Homeland Security reasons. Fine distinction but it still felt like an international flight and I was ready to contest the additional bag charge. The recent hold on a Chinese on his way to Los Angeles on spurious documents through Japan indicates that there are forces that still exploit the gullible market for such documentation. It was getting into Hawaii that I finally “forgave” Continental for the extra luggage charge. We skipped Immigration altogether, and though we still had to get through Customs, the agricultural concern is justifiable.

The evening 15-minute raindrop was a welcome respite. We get that in Garapan, too, but part of the reason my two Shenyang wards returned early to the Manchurian plains was the muggy humidity that accompanies the heat in Saipan’s tropical “rainforest” weather, lagoon winds notwithstanding. Dry heat in the plains of Dong Bei is as not as taxing as Arizona’s oven heat in scorching summer, but China’s northeast is carbon monoxide rich from the coal plants and that is a bother. Both our recent exposures on Manchuria and Saipan made coming into the Oahu airport such an exhilarating experience.

We left early morning Aug. 2 and landed early evening Aug. 1. So I celebrated Liuliu/double-six twice. My sister and hubby picked me up at the airport, immediately whisked us to a Pinoy restaurant where the genuine Ilocano pinakbet (assorted veggies) was palayok (earthen pot) dry, unlike the wet Tagalog/Pampango saucy versions. My Canadian daughter whose wedding I missed last year was there to don on us another lei. My nephew prints t-shirts for a hobby so I will have him make me one with Maui’d and lei’d in Sao Wei Yi (Hawaii) to wear in Dong Bei!

One of the realities that heal our perennially damaged ta tu zi self-image (Chinese rotund) is coming out “petite” compared to the Hawaiian crowd. I used to joke that the reason I enjoyed hanging out with the four horsemen of the NMPASIcalypse was that, even with lean Greg, I actually look tiny in comparison. Of course, the guys’ hearts and passion serving the cause of the differently-abled is equally stout, so if body and soul size is commensurate to vocational resolve, so be it. Same admiration and mahalo goes to Frank-Vivian-Elaine of the old PACA/STaRPO crowd, Vince-Bobbi-Larrisa-John-Marrisa of the AS-CNMI, and other colleagues in the autism field trying to wrestle that bull into reasonable manageability.

One of our colleagues appreciative of demand for authentic accountability of past events would not mind hearing of our intentions and projections about the tomorrow. Fair enough. In this series of “thank yous” to the Marianas on our exit, we shall endeavor to do that as well.

There is a preponderance of Polynesian motifs in our entertainment routines (regular practices are held at the Kilili pavilion on Beach Road for young hula/Tahitian dancers). We are part of the Hawaii connection, at least, historically since the whaling era and Uncle Sam’s intrusion into the Micronesian basin.

Am-Cham deposed Hawaiian royalty as it drooled over the looming China market being carved out by Japan and the European powers a century ago, thus planning the settlement of the Philippines on “manifest destiny” when the American-Spanish war presented the opportunity, buying Guam as a coaling station in the process, and one gets the picture of how we became a feather on the Pentagon’s cap.

JFK wanted us to become a part of the State of Hawaii, but what was not politically done was nevertheless militarily and commercially accomplished. So Aloha’s rainbow rises tall on Tinian as well.

That Saipan-to-Honolulu via Guam is now a domestic flight may very well signal a new era of cooperation and collaboration in our historic ties to Aloha land. Why not? The late Lijun Deng (Teresa Tang) sang a plaintive version of “Pearly Shells” in Putonghua that I then put English words to so Chinese language learners are mouthing English to the tune of Sao Wei Yi. Dancing the Hula is next. We hula in the Marianas, too, and we are grateful. Chailang will show you how, if you do not yet know. Swing that hip, Maya! Mahalo nui loa!