Lava Flows & Title Waves

It's been raining all day, as I've sat in this tiny, dark, Honolulu apartment, reading about the tsunamis. It somehow feels far more devastating than 9-11, although the latter was certainly closer to home in so many ways. (My sister in NY commuted through the towers, she was MIA for hours, and many folks I went to high school with worked among those five buildings.) I suppose mass destruction of civilization and tens of thousands of lives at the hand of God - rather than by one of many sects of fundamentalist psychos – looms far drearier prospects for the future of this planet.
I think God is pissed. Rightfully so. I’m just shocked He/She/It took it out on the poor Asian Pacific and not on North America. Anyone I’ve ever met who has been to Thailand, said it was their favorite place – including my parents. And the guy (Caucasian) I sat next to on the airport shuttle last night (Sunday) who was born in Bangkok. He had a tendency to delve into lengthy diatribes on quantum physics. And there was the young couple expecting to move from Maui to Thailand in the coming month. I met them just before midnight on Friday – Christmas Eve - while standing by the lava flow in Volcano National Park.
It was hot. Quite difficult to get close to the crawling ooze of Pele's liquid wrath, which intermittently burst into flame and cooled, crackling, transforming into rock. Also present were two military sistaz who had never hiked before, a world traveling Aussie (favorite place: Thailand) and a woman from Toronto who spent ten years as the shrink for Cirque de Soleil. The seven of us met here on Christmas Eve, bedazzled by the volcanoes continuous eruption and the subsequent changing of the topography right before our eyes.
Just about the same time, perhaps, the landscape was preparing to shift on the far West end of the ocean I now sat in the middle of.
Shortly after it officially became Christmas Day, we were prepared to leave the molten lava. We skipped over its solidified counterpart, crunching like glass beneath our feet, singing Christmas carols to the uninhabitable landscape. The young couple spoke of their exciting plans to fulfill a long awaited dream and move to the paradise that is Thailand. And how appropriate it is they came to see this amazingly singular site of living liquid fire, a poignant example of Mother Nature’s magnificent power, her propensity for constant transition…and a simmering reminder of her impending destructive capabilities.

The next day I awoke early to catch the steam vents spewing their sulfur fumes into the tinted guava glow of sunrise, with a backdrop of three rainbows. Hours later I found myself lying on the only green sand beach in the world, floating on impossibly teal blue turbulent waves, encircled by a slate grey wall of windswept, multi-tiered sandstone. Four young, sexy, local boys, hollering holiday cheer to hikers in Pidgeon (native language), stopped to pick me up, for a rough ‘n wild four wheeling experience in the back of an old pickup. From there I found my way to a secluded beach cove, to reunite with friends, Kristi & Wade, after 24 hours of separation. I love them. There is nothing like finding old loved ones off the beaten track somewhere in paradise.
This would be our last night together, as the next evening I fly back to Oahu.
Sitting in the airport and having the luxury of cell phone reception for the first time in a week, I call my mother.
“Next I’m going to Oahu, the North Shore. They’re expecting 30 foot waves this week! I’m psyched!”
“Linds, aren’t you scared to see that?”
“No! Why?” I’m laughing at her absurdity.
“Didn’t you hear about the tsunami, yet?”
The knowledge of the sheer power behind those waves gave them a whole new visceral meaning. Meandering thoughts swept up in a swell, awe-induced paralysis as we hover on the crest that too quickly crashes in a spray of destruction, devastating until a new mind set rolls in with the next wave.

I hear Cincinnati is covered in snow. I love the hot sun of the tropics. I can’t wait to go “home”.