Friday, May 7, 2010

Kalapana talk story

A few days ago, lava spilling out of Pu'u O'o once again flowed over the roadway at Kalapana. A stream of visitors arrived via tour caddies and in their cars, many taking precious hours from their cruise stop-over hoping for a sight of glowing hot lava spilling on asphalt, overtaking the traces of human occupation. The visitor viewing platform was closed off, and as close as anyone was allowed was too far to even recognize the lava in view was still hotter than the inside of a pizza oven. So the crowds ebbed and flowed like disappointed waves on the shore. They had to be aboard their ship before nightfall or be left behind. Best lava viewing is in the darkness of dawn or dusk, when the lava glows orange red; the frantic fiery foaming bloodstream of the earth herself.

It is not such a romance for the people of Kalapana. Once not too long ago, Kalapana was a sweet village on a remote Puna shore. In 1990, the lava flowed inexorably over houses and streets, over Walter's Kalapana Store and Drive In, over the black sand beach. The slow moving pahoehoe lava would take days and weeks in its inexorable path to the sea. There are still houses in Kalapana that survived, resting in serene green foliage. There are new houses erected on the black lava. There is a new black sand beach, with a red cinder path crossing it down to the ocean. The beach and path are planted with coconut palms laying human claim again to the ocean front. The ocean laps in wild splendor at the black black sand, tossing up lava rocks rolled and swirled from the churning lava entering the ocean just down the coastline, there, where the plumes of steam rise like clouds off the ocean edge.

And now here comes the lava flow again, edging toward yet another house in Kalapana.

This lava tiki stands along the roadway guarding a house in Kalapana. Tikis and ti leaves are protection here on the Big Island. When you live with a jealous goddess you become respectful and find ways to show your respect. This imposing tiki is carved from lava. The watchful eyes are much more prominent than the devouring mouth, forever in a clench that is unlikely to yaw open and munch up the land over which it watches.

Aloha from the land of Pele, Ka wahine 'ai honua, the woman who devours the land.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Alternative Wedding Venues

When we created Rainforest Weddings, our goal was to offer an alternative to the expense of a production wedding that is ultimately romantic and yet not costly nor stressful. Many couples who come to Hawaii to get married are looking for a beach wedding. We can do those too.

The Big Island has more miles of coastline than any of the other Hawaiian islands, and the beaches come in a fabulous array. This is a photo of a black sand beach on a blue sky day, and as you can see, there is no one around. The stack of rocks is part of a heiau wall. Hawaiians built heiaus for spiritual reasons, many as hula platforms, before western influences came into the islands. Today, hula halaus use this heiau from time to time, and much of the time, it sits in solitude overlooking the ocean. The way into this beach is a short rocky road, accessible by four wheel drive, or on foot.

South of here is the green sand beach. That beach is off the main road by about fifteen miles of paved road, then a couple of miles of dirt road. Some use four wheel drive, others walk. Once at the beach, there is a hike down that must be made on foot. It is a special place. If you choose it for a wedding, you will have many onlookers. A white dress might not make it down the footpath without some Hawaiian volcanic soil attaching itself along the way.

There are some white sand beaches accessible only by four wheel drive where if you should choose a weekday in the spring for your wedding, you just might have the place all to yourself.


Monday, March 29, 2010

The Sacred Pu

The blowing of the sacred Pu or triton shell announces the start of a Hawaiian ceremony, such as a wedding, or seasonal celebration. The deep sound is reminiscent of a ship's horn, and can be heard throughout the forest, across land or water.

Some Hawaiian ceremonies use a conch shell rather than a triton, but it was the triton shell that was found in these waters, and used from ancient times forward.

Here the triton shell is being blown by Robert near the start of the path up to the rainforest wedding pavilion. The tone is clear and pure, and will definitely inform your being from the inside out that something special is going on. The lei po'o or head lei he is wearing is traditional, made from the native plants that grow in this forest.

The direction in which the shell is blown is meaningful, as is the number of times it is blown. Our celebrations are derived from Hawaiian culture and honor Hawaiian culture, and are adapted to western culture and custom.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Finding the Perfect Shirt for Kane Rainforest Celebration




Tommy Bahama has aloha shirts. Hilo Hattie has aloha shirts. Walmart and Long's Drugs have aloha shirts. Aloha Friday means aloha shirts, and that means the aloha shirt has a spot in a great many closets.

But what if you want to find something vintage, a shirt that recalls the days when you visited Hawai'i via steamship. If you want to stop in Honolulu, there is the venerable Bailey's, a shop you can spend the kind of time in you'd usually set aside for a bookstore with comfy sofas. But if you prefer to line up your wardrobe from the comfort of your computer seat, there is the Hana Shirt Company.

Their on-line selection of shirts is ultimately gratifying. You can be a facebook fan and be treated to tiki talk and the appreciation of their friends. You can browse their shirts endlessly, and will surely see classics that appeal.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

A Kitchen in a Treehouse??!!!



As we planned the treehouse, we knew there had to be a place to prepare food. As wonderful as it is to eat out, it can be equally delicious to relax in your own private little space, especially when that place is so different than anything you are accustomed to.

Since the space was so limited, we opted to scale everything down. The stove: a two burner propane cooktop. The sink: slightly larger than a wet bar. The refrigerator: for now, it is electric, but will likely be changed to propane as well since we are off grid. Being off grid is a constant challenge. The refrigerator is a major energy eater. We began with the pots on a shelf, but moved them to a tree branch pot hanger. The microwave was an afterthought, as the farmer's market here has vendors with wonderful pre-made meals.

We added the backsplash, using glass tiles, some of which are fused glass from an artist in Benicia California, where we once lived.

All the dishes and cups and glasses, the eating utensils, and the drinking water are all there under the counter top. The tray on top of the microwave holds coffee and tea, sugar, salt, honey and snacks. When it is finished, there will be a hanging tiered fruit and vegetable basket over on the right. Even the garbage and recycling fits below the counter.

If we were truly dedicated to living easily and frugally, we would give up the refrigerator altogether, and along with it, ice on demand. Instead, there would be a built-in food cooler, where air would circulate through from outside, and fruits, vegetable, eggs, cheese, and cultured milk products would stay edible for days at a time. For now, we are dedicated to the comfort of our guests, so the refrigerator stays. For now!

Friday, March 19, 2010

New Mango Tabletop at Treehouse



This week we put in a tabletop supported on a tree branch inside at the treehouse. Before, there was an outside table and chairs you could pull in if al fresco dining was not your thing. Since it does rain in the rainforest, even though the table is on the covered lanai, it can still feel a bit too close to nature out there of an evening.

The new tabletop seats two comfortably, and can double as a desk. It is conversation height, so you can stand if you'd rather not sit. We're pretty fond of the view - it's a true window table.

Monday, March 15, 2010

So How Does One Get Up Into the Treehouse?

In the dreaming-about-it phase of the treehouse, we had multiple ways up. There was especially a rope net ladder - very piratey. There was a fireman's pole; a big brass post for sliding down.

The reality became what you see on the right. The trees in the rainforest grow slowly. Unlike other parts of the island that are very warm, the temperature is cool here on top of the volcano. These trees are about 200 years old, but their girth is not sufficient to prop up a house in their upper branches. The treehouse gains almost twenty feet of loft from the bubble of lava in the lava tube over which it is built. The trees grow directly out of the bubble, and are the largest trees in the area. To get into the treehouse, you first ascend the lava tube.

Our rock designer Tony brought in massive chunks of lava rock that he moved by leverage. He studied the rise and absorbed the feeling of the structure. He said prayers to Akua and moved the stones into place.

Our builder wanted steep steps up to the first platform. He said that people entering the treehouse should know by the way up that they are entering a treehouse and not a ground house. So as you walk up, you must hold onto the railing. Even in the slippery wetness of the rain, there are good firm handholds, as you grip behind the bamboo posts. You are glad you are not trying to bring too much in with you.

Whether you are staying at the treehouse or elsewhere in the rainforest of Kilauea, consider bringing along a waterproof lightweight jacket, closed-toed shoes that easily slip on and off but fit your foot snugly, pants that roll up and stay up, sleeveless shirt and long sleeved tee shirt, and socks or indoor slippers. A hat with a brim. A microfiber jacket or vest or sweatshirt will be welcome. You will not need bug spray, and the hat and jacket take the place of the umbrella.

Rain in the rainforest: like snow to the Inuits is rain to the Hawaiians. We have lots of different types of rain. Here at 4000 feet, we frequently have pineapple rain. The tiniest misty droplets fall. You can barely feel it on your skin. You can be outside in it for several minutes and not get wet. It comes and goes so subtly you may not be sure you are in mist or in a cloud. Some call this area the cloud forest. When the raindrops are more formed, you may be tempted to treat it as if it is pineapple rain and linger outside, probably trying to get some outside work done. After awhile, you notice you are getting wet. You feel the rain in your face, and may be tempted to tip your head back with your mouth open and drink directly from the sky, but realize there is not all that much water coming down. The varying stages of rain continue, all the way to monsoon, where the sky opens and sheds water in such quantities that you are not sure you want to see what walking in that downpour would feel like. You will get drenched no matter what you are wearing, and the feeling may be like being under a waterfall. As you contemplate it, you wonder if you have ever seen such rain before, and if you ever will again. It is seldom, and it does happen, and you marvel.