When I think of Hawai’i, I definitely think of places like Wailua Falls. The kids love waterfalls. Wisconsin has a few waterfalls, but in Kaua’i you can’t throw a rock without hitting a waterfall.
The scenery is beautiful, of course, but in my world, it’s always about the people, and I think the land affects the people. So it’s natural that a place so beautiful produces beautiful people.
Troy is a weaver. A native of Kaua’i, he does what most people do; he holds three jobs. He owns a taxi, he works at the local minimum security prison as a substance abuse counselor, and he weaves palm baskets for tourists. He set up at Wailua Falls, since lots of people like going there. If you ever saw Fantasy Island (my condolences), you’ve seen this waterfall.
Anyway, I watched him for five minutes or so. A drunk tourist was annoying, but Troy deflected it beautifully (remember he’s a drug counselor). I was intrigued. So I made a proposition.
CL: “How much for the baskets?”
Troy: “Fifteen bucks.”
CL: “How about for $30 you teach me?”
Troy [sizing me up]: “You think you can keep up?”
CL: “I think so…”
Troy [still sizing me up]: “….okay.”
He split a palm front with an old steak knife, prepped it by scraping some of the stalk away, tied it in a loop with some twine, and we got started.
It’s one thing to do, it’s another to teach. Troy was clearly a teacher, but he also wasn’t used to teaching this particular thing. He wanted to go faster, but he fell into the rhythm of things quickly. He slowed down, and the fun began.
I like this guy. He had a good sense of humor, made fun of me in a gentle way (I assisted), and was patient. It’s not at all intuitive, so my brain had to go from snowshoe weaving to palm frond weaving. Totally different.
I asked Troy how long he had been doing this.
“I dunno…a while.”
Typical Kaua’ian answer. Time didn’t seem all that important to Troy. Who cares how long he’s been doing it? He was doing it now. I needed to get back to now, and Troy was a good guide. I asked him who taught him.
“My brother.”
“Who taught him?”
“I dunno. Some old Hawai’ian guy.”
Again. If he had said “President Obama” would it make a difference? Another superfluous question. Who cares if he went to the University of Palm Frond Basketry?
At that point I decided to shut up.
The richness of an experience like that is a gift. It took a little bit of courage to ask, but then again, what’s the worst thing that can happen? He says “Sorry, haole. No deal.” But he said yes. At one point I said, “This part is tricky…” He laughed and said “Yeah, a lot of people say ‘teach me how to do that.’
“So do you teach them?” I asked.
“No, they don’t want to learn. It’s hard.”
It was definitely something I couldn’t have figured out on my own. I handed over two twenties and he dug for change.
I put my hand on his arm. “Keep it, brah. It’s worth an extra ten bucks just for your story.” He looked at me and smiled. “Thanks.”
Mahalo. I no kid you, you stay da kine, brah.
Respectfully submitted,
Canoelover