Day 2: A Brief History of US/Hawai'i Relations

TLDR: it sucks

We had only two things to do in Hawai'i:

1. get a COVID test, and
2. board the ship.

We planned to get here a couple of days early in case of flight problems -- there are lots of Australians posting about delays and lost luggage -- but things for us turned out just fine. So we found ourselves in Honolulu for two days with no real plans.

With nothing scheduled in a city we've never visited, we decided to just spend the day walking around Waikiki. Starting with breakfast at Aloha Breakfast, a Mr. Breakfast-esque greasy spoon next door to our AirBnB,

It was okay.

The next stop was the beach, a mere two blocks away, where we took turns standing in the ocean. Standing there in the water, being buffeted about by waves, watching it roll in over the sand, was like something out of a movie. It was even this mystical turquoise colour that regular water just isn't. And even though I was on a beach surrounded by dozens of people, there was a stillness I wasn't quite expecting. So I just stood there for a few minutes, watching the water wash over the sand and being bullied by the surf. I could have stayed a lot longer. But there are lots of beaches to come in the next couple of weeks, so I'll see if I can recapture, or at least recreate, that moment.

Surfing is popular here. It's like combining in Saskatchewan: a lot of people do it. Of course, you can rent surfboards here practically anywhere, quite unlike combining in Saskatchewan. In fact, I'm not sure you can just walk into a field and start combining, but you certainly can walk onto the beach, rent a surfboard, and start surfing. And every surfer has a wicked, completely ripped, wiry muscled body. Unlike combiners. Maybe this isn't such a great analogy after all.

We went shopping for some toiletries after the beach -- shampoo, toothpaste, etc. -- followed by some Dole Whip and shaved ice.

Waikiki is beautiful. It's also expensive and very touristy. We like to do touristy things sometimes, like buy tickets for the hop-on/hop-off trolley tours (there are four different lines here), or take pictures at at the Waikiki sign. And today, since we didn't have any plans, we stopped into a tour company to see what they had available for tonight or tomorrow. And that's where things took a bit of a turn.

In what seems like a lifetime ago, there was this thing called COVID-19 -- you may have heard of it -- that literally shut down the world. This was problematic for some places, like Hawai'i, that relies on tourism as their main economic driver. As things began to open up again, there was a vocal opposition from some Hawaiians who didn't want tourism to return. Well, good luck with that, I thought. I mean, I get it -- white people can be problematic. But without tourism there goes your economy, and then everyone suffers.

But, of course, there's a lot more to be said about this. Hawai'i was mainly a subsistence society until European contact in 1778. After that -- and I'm applying a very broad brush, here -- the economy was largely agricultural. Tourism ramped up to replace agriculture in the late 1950s, around the time of statehood and when passenger jet service became available. But all of this is heavily colonial, and it's no wonder there are voices asking for tourism to stop. The US overthrew the Hawaiian government in the late 19th century because of its strategic military importance and fear of imperial expansion from Japan, and annexed it as a territory through force. Even the tourism iconography from the '50s and '60s is exploitative, belittling, and demeaning.

So when the guy at the tour place told us he had some spots open for a tour of North Shore, Tamara asked what the company did to build genuine engagement with Hawaiians in their tours. And the answer was what you might expect: they hire locals to drive their buses, they get guides who grew up here to give the tours, you visit the oldest settlement on the island, etc. I felt it was a little bit of an unfair question, because we knew that's not the point that tour company was at. But it's also an important question, because genuine and meaningful engagement is the only way forward.

We visited the Alaska Native Heritage Center when we were in Anchorage, and it's a place that got it right. There were reconstructions of lodging, knowledgeable guides, cultural demonstrations, and artists on site, all Native driven and controlled. It's a great example of cultural tourism done right, not just a commercial tour of some pineapple plant (and let me just mention here that it's probably pretty easy to start a thriving pineapple company in Hawai'i when your cousin, Sanford Dole, is the President).

Needless to say, we ended up not taking the tour. But it became an opportunity for us to go back and do some reading about the history and current issues of Hawai'i. And more importantly, it was a reminder that we are very privileged people, and we want to recognize and acknowledge that during the other stops on our cruise; to meet the people of these countries and spend our time there in a good and respectful way.

After all that heaviness, we finished the day with supper at Paia Fish Market, which was delicious (I had the mahi mahi; Tamara had the ono). On the way there we passed a number of restaurants with huge lines outside. Is it because the food is good? Or is it because people here like standing in lines? With only three meals left before the cruise, I may never find out.

Hopefully something a little lighter for tomorrow.