He and his lovely friend Tika invited me to dinner afterwards. I only remember MCK as a popular athlete who said witty things. It was cool to get to know the MCK who loves to write, has a passion for entrepreneurship, and an aversion to wasting table water. The three of us talked for hours. I think I only said one embarrassing thing. Just one- A feat ! Tika was then kind enough to teach me an Indonesian word: Jayus. Definition: a joke told so poorly and so unfunny that one cannot help but laugh; cringe-worthy.
MCK sent me a really sweet email later on that night: Aleeka, What a blast to bump into you and have such a fun and enjoyable chat into the evening over dinner. Certainly quite serendipitous to run into you less than 24 hours after your arrival in Honolulu.
I thought about my fortunate encounter again during my bus ride to Waikiki beach today. I’m pleased with the transportation here. Bus rides cost the same as in NYC - $2.50. On arrival, I took a two hour bus trip from the airport to my home in Aina Haina, which afforded me a great view of the city. Aina Haina is a really pristine neighborhood in Oahu. I feel blessed to have found such good housing only two days before my arrival. I’m renting out a guest house from an avuncular Indian man who is an adjunct professor at the university. My apartment is completely separate from his house, so I’ve only seen him three times. The first two times he came out in a white tunic with his hands behind his back. He was friendly, without ever smiling. I felt like Uma Thurman in “Kill Bill”, waiting for him to tell me how long I can train in his guest house before I set out for my true mission. I finally met his wife tonight. We talked about their three sons. Well, she talked. I daydreamed of the day she would put them in front of my door. An offering of sorts. One for the taking.
Alika (same pronunciation, different spelling) is a popular name here. When I introduce myself, most people think I’m a born Hawaiian. On yesterday’s bus ride to Kapiolani Park for the Okinawan festival, a young lady from Beijing wouldn’t stop talking to me about names.
"I want to change my name. Can you tell me a good American name for a smart girl with black hair?"
" What were you thinking of changing it to?"
"Shirley."
"I would go with Gabrielle. Gabi, for short."
(I have no idea what kind of game this was, but I felt like I was winning…in a very nebulous kind of way.)
" Oh, Gabi ! Like in ‘Desperate Housewives’!"
"Sure."
I can’t remember that Chinese girl’s name but I remember everyone I met at Church on Sunday, probably because I was a bit afraid of them. Regardless, the service was good, so I asked to play piano next Sunday. They insisted that I join the choir instead." I’ve never met a black who can’t sing," one woman exclaimed. Either way, I’m going to go to choir practice on Wednesday night because I think it will help me learn Hawaiian pronunciation. Some of the hymns are in Hawaiian. So, choir practice will be like my Rosetta Stone, or Rosary Stone. It’s also nice to know that if Mr.Miyagi decides he no longer wants me in his guest house, I have ten Christians who will welcome me?
I tried to warn them that I really can NOT sing. I have a feeling tomorrow night will be a very….jayus kind of night…..
