Log 33: To Maui and Beyond
Today I learned why we used to call my Grandpa’s twin brother “opa.”
My time in Maui began with a small miscommunication. I accidentally told Erica (who owns Liberty Vista), that my flight to Kahului got in at 1:15pm instead of 11:15am, and as a result, she was preoccupied with something when I landed and unable to come pick me up. She offered to send her boyfriend, Jasper, to get me instead. I accepted (not like I really had a choice), and a half hour later I hopped into a long haired, beachy looking man’s jeep. My impression of Jasper was that he would be that kid in your class who comes in with no idea there's a test that day, and even once you tell him, he doesn't seem too stressed about it.
He told me that he'd drive me to Paia, a nearby town, to pick up anything I needed before heading to the farm. We chatted along the way, and he told me how he ended up in Maui. Jasper’s story was actually remarkably similar to mine. He's from Illinois, and five years ago he found himself at a point where he desperately needed a change of pace. So he flew to Hawaii, put down roots, and never looked back.
When we arrived in Paia, Jasper took me to pick up some groceries from a little store before taking me to the shop where they sell the honey from the farm. It was super cute - sweet smelling and full of all sorts of honeys and soaps and teas and lotions. After my little tour of the shop, Jasper turned to me. “Okay, I need to go run some errands, go explore town and I’ll text you when I’m coming to get you!” He gave me a hug and walked out of the shop. Again, not really left with any other options, I went exploring.
Paia is a small, touristy town full of restaurants, boutiques, and surf shops. I guess that kind of describes most places in Hawaii, though. One difference between Paia and Honolulu that I noticed right away was the beaches. While Waikiki is a beautiful place, it's crowded and loud 24/7. The beach I found in Paia was serene by comparison. Just a handful of people were walking around, swimming, or surfing while I was there. Sitting along the tree line about 30 yards from the water, I could smell the salt in the air.
Highlight: While we were in the car, Jasper told me about the relatives he had in Germany, including his grandpa, who he referred to as “opa.” “Weird, that's what me and my cousins always call our Grandpa's brother, and he lived in Germany for a long time,” I said, struck by the coincidence. “Yeah,” Jasper laughed, “That's because opa means grandpa in German!”
