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[April 22, 2005] After my coworker got off work tonight, we headed up into the Manoa Valley, me on his bike, him jogging, to go to a graveyard with a banyan tree that he'd found and said was good for climbing.

It's a gorgeous night. The moon's full, and everything's lit up. We talked about life, and it was a good time. It was worth it just for the bike ride.

And then we got to the cemetery. it turned out to be a Chinese graveyard, up on this little hill in the middle of the valley, just high enough that you could see... everything. Over all the houses on three sides, turning into the slopes of the hills to either side, and eventually turning into the big hotels of Waikiki in front. It was gorgeous. Under the full moon, especially so.


"I really like it up here," my coworker told me. "This city is so crowded and desperate for space. But this is a big, open area, and the only people who use it are dead."

The banyan's at the top of the hill, over a low shrine decorated with carved lions. There are thick clumps of aerial roots hanging down from the tree, and someone's knotted one of them together, so you can climb it. Or swing on it. You can swing out over the shrine, over the tops of the lions, towards one of those big Chinese gateway-things whose names I don't know. So I swung on it a lot. My coworker and I took turns, pushing each other like we were on a swing.

When we got home, something occured to me.

"Um... I left my hoodie there."

"Shuddup."

"Yeah, I did. Can I borrow your moped?"

I don't seem to be able to drive my coworker's moped without uncontrollably laughing from the shear joy of it half the time. The last time I rode it, I was enjoying it so much that I was just sort of ignoring everything, and cut off a guy who followed me, honking and swearing, to the next streetlight, whereupon he got out of his car, clearly going to hurt me until I apologized and explained it was my first day riding it. (This was two weeks ago. it really shakes me up when I get in big conflicts with people, so I'm only comfortable writing about it now.)

So, I laughed joyously the whole ride up to the cemetery, which I found to be just as wonderous as when I left. And I laughed joyously the whole ride back.

I then climbed up on the roof of the hostel, and lay on my back on the scratchy tiles, looking at the clouds and the sky and the city, listening to "Good To Be Here" by The Animators, and really being quite unbelievably overjoyed with my place in life.

I came back the next day, and found the entire place smelled sweetly of incense.

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My Life in Hawai'i

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cemeteries , hawaii , chinese , honolulu , morbid