Log 71: Maui Nō Ka ‘Oi

Riding to work today, I exchanged chakas with the man who sells banana bread on the side of the road for the last time. I’ll miss the simplistic consistency of our morning hellos. When I think about it, there are a lot of constants here on Maui that I’ll be missing 24 hours from now. 

First and foremost, I’ll miss my moped. I’ve never felt cooler in my life than I did riding down the streets of Lahaina, shades on, engine rumbling. Even when the engine was waterlogged and I was pushing the moped, I still felt cool. Yesterday evening, I sold my moped to Mark, the mechanic who put the milk crate on the back of it for me. 

I’ll miss my coworkers at Ululani’s. I’ve become quite close with a few of them. I’ll miss conversing with Erin - her speaking with an Australian accent and me with a British one, neither of us breaking character to interact with customers. I’ll miss Beto playing exclusively Nicki Minaj during our shifts and repeatedly getting reprimanded for it. I’ll miss my team lead, Andrea, who is always so shy, humble, and genuine, catching me off guard with her sporadic pranks. On our last day, as a parting gift, Lucas and I got her some jibbitz to put on her Crocs. One of them is an igloo, to represent Minnesota. 

I cried on my way to work that day. Hard. The shift went by like any other. Customers mispronounced Haleakala. The Hyatt management chastised us for cutting through their landscaping to get to the bathroom.

Bruno Mars blared on the speaker sitting precariously on the sink (Beto was not working). My manager, Emi, brought some kind of snack for everyone - that day it was donuts to celebrate Lucas and I leaving. 

As per usual, the hours dragged by. Me and my coworkers’ legs began to ache from standing and we collectively began to wish for time to tick faster - for the day to end. Secretly though, I was rooting against the clock. 

When the shop was finally closed, I turned around to find one of the Hyatt’s pizza chefs standing before me. He handed me two white pizza boxes with a big smile. The kitchen staff has developed a habit of giving us pizzas, teriyaki fries, and chicken wings here and there. They always refuse the shaved ice we offer them in return. We thanked the chef profusely, and all headed to one of the Ululani's picnic tables to eat. Not a bad way to end your last shift. 

I’m going to miss all of my favorite adventures. Day tripping to the Iao Valley, jumping into the ocean at Cliff House, walking the labyrinth at Dragon’s Teeth, snorkeling in Honolua Bay, hiking the Pali Trail, watching the sunset atop Haleakala - all sights that took my breath away no matter how many times I saw them. 

I’ll miss seeing the elderly couple that rides up and down Front St in their Model T-looking car with their golden retriever, all of them wearing sunglasses.

I’ll miss surfing (getting tossed around by waves above my skill level and bruised by the coral).

I’ll miss eating at the fish market.

I'll miss the ABC store. Seriously - great franchise.

I’ll miss watching the guy who slings rocks into the ocean at sunset. 

I’ll miss Daniel and Dominique. And Lucky.

I’ll miss my little room at the hostel.

I’ll miss having movie nights and dinner parties. But I’ll never forget them. 

I’ll never forget Nora, and Carl, and Lissie, and Hannah, Rhea, Kelsey, Seména, Theresa, Zara, Eva, Eve, and Sydney. 

I’ll never forget Damien and Michelle, who drove me home from Safeway in the rain to retrieve my spare moped key. 

I'll never forget Mark the moped man, or the construction workers who came to my aid on the side of the road, fixing my moped’s tire and pumping it full of air. I drove by the house they had been building the other day. It was completely finished, paint and all. 

I’ll never forget all the people who welcomed me, helped me, and showed me kindness as I learned to navigate a new place. 

(I don’t have to worry about forgetting the farm. Those memories are crystal clear, whether I want them to be or not.)

My last morning on Maui, I got up at 5:30AM and watched the sunrise facing west. I cried. I wrote this blog. I packed what was left to pack. I waited by the curb for Andrea to pick us up and take us to the airport. 

And then I left the only place besides home that I've ever wanted to stay when it was time to leave.