ewa beach, hawaii

Yesterday, we took TheBus from our host in Waipahu to Ewa Beach Park.  10 miles (20 minutes) by car, this journey took over an hour.  The bus drivers are delightful and helpful, and the fare was only $3.25.  Nevertheless, Logan became aware of something that he has always taken for granted: it is very convenient to own a car.

I realized one of my own assumptions, as well.  My concept of this state was formed by episodes of Magnum P.I. and the state’s tourism campaign.  I assumed that the population of Hawaii was 90% rich white people and 10% native Hawaiian supermodels.  This illusion was pleasantly shattered, yesterday.  

When we asked the bus driver where we could swim at Ewa Beach, we were discouraged, “It’s not a tourist beach; it’s a local beach.”  I thought I was getting information about the beach facilities (snorkle and surf rentals, ice cream shops), but “local” is actually a euphamistic, Hawaiian expression regarding ethnicity.  We were the only white people riding the bus and enjoying the beach, which simply never happens in New Hampshire. 

We had a wonderful afternoon there. Logan played in the surf with three other boys, while I scanned the horizon for breeching Humpback Whales (no luck).  A youth group launched three outrigger canoes and practiced far out at sea.  What did Dorothy say to Toto?  “…we’re not in Kansas anymore.”