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Thu. January 27, 2000
...and going, and going, STOP!
And so the day arrives to leave. I got up at 6am this morning so I could be on the ball for we were to vacate the firehouse and other rooms by 7:30am. It was sad to leave the beloved firehouse and KMC behind for I know plans are to gut the place I've called home for the last couple weeks. I suppose if I ever make it back to KMC the firehouse will no longer truly be the firehouse to me.
Once at the Hilo airport our checked bags went through agricultural inspection and passed without a hitch. The group individually checked in and went to our gate to sit and work on our papers. Since I was typing here on Li'l Shefa and wanted to preserve all the juice this thing had, I sat on the floor near a power outlet and jacked myself in. I'm not sure how much I accomplished on my paper there but it's the thought that counts, right? The plane left a little bit late and only worried a few people. The smaller, inter island flights seemed to unnerve more people than did the larger, longer distance flight from and to the mainland. In the air the view was one that I longed to see from the ground. The plane looped offshore and around to the north of the Big Island, bringing the summit of Mauna Kea into the tiny window. Kristin and I sadly gazed at the Keck Observatory's domes atop the huge mountain and wished the opportunity to be there hadn't been cancelled. We'll go up there.
We had a slightly tilted touchdown in Honolulu that didn't help anyone's nerves or Kari's tears. She said that it's not the landing or takeoff that trouble her it's the bumpy ride of the small plane. Makes sense too because there was much left to be desired on the approach to the runway. Anyway, the Honolulu airport was just about that same as the past three times I'd seen it. The temperature was just right, it was sunny, and the smell of diesel wafted from the Wiki Wiki buses. After another quick ag inspection we wandered across half the airport to our gate—which wasn't easy to get to. All the doors leading in to the area of our gate were locked and we had to double back a ways to actually get into the building. When we did get in we had to push through a few sliding glass doors and a few gates before we reached our own. I assumed a similar position to the one this morning at the Hilo airport, plugged in, and went to work. A brief scandal arose when some of the group left to get some food. The passage through a couple other gates to get out was actually now locked off and we were stuck in the area of our gate. The doors between gates and the doors leading outside were all locked! I was perfectly content to work on my paper but a few others were pretty turned off at the idea of being prevented to leave. Someone proceded to pick up a phone at the check-in desk and say something to the effect of, "Uh, we're at gate 32 and we're locked in." I think the story then was that the worker that ws to unlock all the doors to the outside was just chilling out somewhere having a smoke. Soon thereafter and before I went to get some nourishment my paper was finished. Now all that was left was for me to transcribe the typed work to a handwritten one.
Boarding our plane to the mainland reminded me exactly how cramped those things get. I had the misfortune to have to sit in the middle section of the plane where I think the air is no fresher than what you get after breathing into a plastic bag for an hour or so. I was on the end, Ali next to me, Julie in the middle, then sheBrooke and Jerry on the other side. Once under way, this row (and I presume others) turned into a brewing research paper factory. Our traytables served as work places and the reclining seats ahead of us as an annoyance. The thick recycled air circulated through my lungs and fed the fires in my body that were set only to write, write, write! Page after page flowed from my fingertips as I took words off Li'l Shefa's screen down on paper. The muscles that guided my penmanship weakened as a side effect of the stress I placed on them and the poor oxygen supply getting to them. Breaking only to move aside for the weak-bladdered women next to me I shot through the writing at record pace. Until a warning window came up. My batteries were running low and I had at least two more pages to put on paper. Drat! I walked up a few rows and pleaded mercy to my professor and I believe I received it. I handed him the nine pages I had already written and promised a promt delivery of the finale in his box early the next morning.
With somewhat of a burden off my mind I spent the rest of the flight (which wasn't much) playing War with Julie and being goofy in general with all around me. With a powerful "THUD!" we touched down in Seattle where nothing but cold air and a big city awaited me. A few goodbyes later and Nick took Kristin and I back to our dorms at PLU. Back in good ol' Hong Hall, I saw Jenny (my roommate's cousin and my friend), Eric (play trumpet with him), and Paul (my R.A.). Jenny hung around with me for a while and endured my displaying a set of developed pictures and postcards. After that, I attended to the unfinished work of my J-term class and Jenny typed a paper to finish off her class. Once I became tired and got ready for bed I nearly picked up the phone to ring Sarah to give her word of my return. I refrained for the simple fact that I could (barely) stand not communicating with her for one more day. I crawled into my bed perched high above the floor and fell asleep with my sweet 'Iwa Kali'i on my mind.
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