Saturday, June 9, 2018

Lava Land Part 12: United in Tragedy

Author "Blood on the Orchids"
Owner Hawaiian Magic Tropical Flowers




So many beautiful spots gone.
Everyone in Puna is mourning.  We have all lost something.  There is a different feeling about Pahoa.   People wear it on their faces, you can see the sadness and the sleepless nights in their eyes.  At the “Hub”, which is what everyone is calling the intersection of Highway 130  and 132, the road we used to be able to use to drive to our homes in Leilani and Kapoho, there are a lot of nice people, volunteering their time, cooking, sorting and serving.  It’s a store where money isn’t a credential and tragedy is.  
Some of us are sad for friends.  Some of us are sad for our lost surf spots and beaches and some us are refugees.  There are two types of refugees. There are the evacuees and there are those who have lost their homes.  We have all lost our way of life.

The most beautiful tree in Kapoho.
I spend my days combing the rentals on social media sites, something I never dreamed I’d be doing at this stage of my life, except for helping my kids with their housing needs.  I broke down  earlier this week after looking at two particularly awful places.  
Tackling the insurance claim we need to file is terrifying, so I attended an insurance forum   presented by a non profit outfit yesterday.  The room was inadequate and people stood outdoors in the rain straining to listen.  I found the language and the terms they used confusing.  I had to leave after an argument broke out between one of the attendees and a presenter. We deserved better than more drama.

Kapoho Bay
At the Pahoa Community Center there are various organizations such as the Red Cross, Catholic Charities and veteran’s groups.  They are fully staffed and seem efficient.  They all seem to conduct themselves with the right amount of compassion.  It is humanity at it’s best.  
I was in Hilo today to picking up a document and found it odd that people were seemingly unaffected.  I wondered how life could be going on as normal.  Puna is it’s own planet at the moment, an island unto itself so to speak, but we are united in our tragedy.


Author "Blood on the Orchids"
Owner Hawaiian Magic Tropical Flowers



Thursday, June 7, 2018

Lava Land Part 11: Stewards of the Land

Author "Blood on the Orchids"
Owner Hawaiian Magic Tropical Flowers

Our sweet beach cottage.

I wish I never had to hear the words Fissure 8 again.  “Fuck Fissure 8," is what I want to say but my Hawaiian friend said to me, “We are stewards of the land.”
I want to think of it like that instead of being angry at God or  Goddess.  If this is Pele’s way of rebirthing the land, maybe I  should listen and hear that this is an opportunity for our own rebirth.  I am scared at this abrupt change of direction in our lives, being forced to make new decisions about the course it will take. I want community more than ever.  We are all grieving.  Some of us have lost homes but all of us have lost our favorite places along Puna's coastline.  
Everything about this past week has been hard. Everything seems like a big effort.  Even opening and closing unfamiliar doors seems like effort.   I have no routine anymore. Humans and animals need routine. My dog and I are working on a new one at our temporary residence with our good friends.  

The Access
I am trying to let go of the possessions I no longer possess. It is painful. I want to stop waking up in the middle of the night thinking of what I've lost.   This will probably take some time.  
I miss my daily life most of all, the simple, quiet Kapoho life I was privileged to live for 25 years.  We married, had children and watched many other children of Puna grow up during this time.  They were beach kids with tough “Hawaiian feet” running barefoot over pavement and lava with their pick of swimming spots scattered throughout the community. All of those Kapoho places are gone now, but our family is safe and most importantly and we are surrounded by an outpouring of love from extended family and friends.

Kapoho Bay being filled with lava.
I am writing to share our experience with the hope that those who are going through this with us will find comfort and feel less alone.  All of us lava evacuees whether we have lost homes or not, are kin now.  Everyone who has been to Puna’s most beautiful coastal spots is mourning.
As the volcano goddess Pele rebirths the land, so be it that all lives changed by her flow will be reborn too.  The universe has a different plan than the one we planned for.  

Author "Blood on the Orchids"
Owner Hawaiian Magic Tropical Flowers

Wednesday, May 30, 2018

Lava Land Part 10: Kilauea Eruption

By Jill Steele
Author "Blood on the Orchids"
Owner Hawaiian Magic Tropical Flowers

Kapoho Bay May 29
After an impassioned plea from local surf shop owner Jeff Hunt, on behalf of the community, our beloved beach park known to locals as Pohoiki, was opened on Memorial Day for the day.  We drove up and saw the packed parking lot after passing through a National Guard checkpoint.  Fortunately, we had identification placards and gained entry with no trouble.  Others, meaning residents of the surrounding lower Puna communities, stood on long lines for placards at the Pahoa Community Center.  I walked on the ancient coastline path, called the ala Kahakai trail,  to 2nd Bay to watch my son catch waves.  I sat on a log swing and watched the surfers, enjoying the breeze.
I overheard someone say, “What are the kids and moms going to do this summer if the beach isn’t open?” 
My favorite lifeguard said, “If today goes well… we’ll see.”
Photo Courtesy Brad Lewis

Everyday chores seem unnecessary but we must carry on with only what is most essential for living.  My husband said, “Neither of us are normal now.  We are different versions of ourselves.”  
Not always a better version, I think, remembering some arguments we’ve had recently that we would not have had under normal circumstances.  I’m sure people wonder why we live here after seeing us face a series of extreme events the past few years, which include a hurricane and another volcanic eruption.

Because I can’t focus, I take my dog for a walk.  Most of the homes I pass are empty now,  some being second and third homes or vacation rentals.  One ambitious owner has continued building throughout this lava event. I’m sure people wonder why we live here with the destruction of our home by weather or lava always present.

Photo Courtesy Brad Lewis
The event we’ve anticipated for days has come to pass and we lost power and phone service simultaneously this afternoon.  I experienced momentary panic to being cut off from the world.  We turned on the radio and heard nothing about the lava, no emergency broadcast.  My husband got out the generator, which had been in its box since the days of Hurricane Iselle.  I was at a loss for what to do while my husband banged around, moving the refrigerator to plug in the cords. I was scared to look at the mess behind it. The house is silent now, but not for long.  The generator is unnervingly loud and made my heart beat faster and not in a good way.  My dog Luna doesn’t like the noise either.  We are in a new phase of this crisis and are now camping in our home.


**The above was written only hours before we were ordered by Civil Defense to evacuate in the middle of the night.  After dazedly packing our cars, we joined the caravan of evacuees driving on the newly paved, formerly dirt Beach Road along the Puna coast, through the neighboring community of Hawaiian Beaches.  We have safely landed at the home of our good friends.  More soon.

By Jill Steele
Author "Blood on the Orchids"
Owner Hawaiian Magic Tropical Flowers

Saturday, May 26, 2018

Lava Land Part 9: Kilauea Eruption

By Jill Steele
Author "Blood on the Orchids"
Owner Hawaiian Magic Tropical Flowers




Photo by Brad Lewis
Topics on my mind for the past few days are the uncertainty of life and the meaning of community.

The definition of community is much broader than a group of people living in proximity of each other.  Community is when this group works together,  advocates and supports each other- especially through difficult circumstances.  I have lived in my Kapoho subdivision for 25 years and only now have we become a community in the true sense of the word. I am proud of my community for a few reasons right now, but especially for organizing a water delivery system, that has through the purchase of miniature water towers, allowed us to live more comfortably during this emergency. We have water for four hours each day and we have now organized our lives around this schedule.

Photo by Brad Lewis
Plans and goals for living are good but I’ve realized we can never know what lies ahead no matter how carefully we plan.   “Go with the flow”,  was a saying used often when the town of Pahoa was in the path of the lava a few years ago.  It now sounds trite but is still incredibly relevant.  I am coming around to the idea that we need plans for different outcomes with regards to our personal situation and proximity to the eruption.  We continue to edit our belongings, giving away what might be useful to those who have already lost their homes.


Photo by Brad Lewis
We, meaning most of the population of the Big Island, are becoming amateur volcanologists and we trade new information with whomever we are with. I’ve learned that black sand beaches are formed when hot lava explodes into tiny fragments upon reaching the water.   I was thinking about this as we walked this morning by a small black/olivine sand beach on the Kapoho lava flow.  It’s Memorial weekend and usually there is a tent city of people camping on the flow by Champagne Pond for this holiday, but there was not one car, not one other person besides my husband and I and we were out there for one and a half hours.  As we swam we could see in the distance the enormous cloud made by lava entering the ocean.  On the plus side, without the crowds, the entire Champagne Pond area is cleaner than it has been in many years.


No matter what we are doing these past weeks, we can never forget what is happening just miles away, because we can see it, we hear the helicopters and our lives are changed. Often we  don’t know which highway is open until we arrive at the checkpoint.   It is not war and lives have not been lost, but homes, heirlooms and dreams have been destroyed.  
Please let it end soon.

By Jill Steele

Author "Blood on the Orchids"
Owner Hawaiian Magic Tropical Flowers


Tuesday, May 22, 2018

Lava Land Part 8: Kilauea Eruption

By Jill Steele



 
 Photo taken at an undisclosed location
We are no longer allowed to view the lava from the highway that fronts our community.  Psychologically this is difficult  because having a daily view of the lava has been a reassurance that it is still far enough away that we and our homes are out of danger.   The National Guard has set up a barrier.  Now we spend our time trying to find another good viewpoint.  Last night I fell down a small hill while climbing over some rocks and foliage to a place where we could get a good view. I am fine.  Just some small kine scrapes and bruises.  The picture I got was worth it.


Kapoho Bay
I am avoiding watching footage showing the rivers of lava, which mostly is the same footage being shown over and over. While it is addicting to watch because the lava is so terribly beautiful, it distracts me from what is happening right now and my responsibilities.

Yesterday my husband cleaned the closet that used to hold all the photo albums, which are now in front of the armoire near our door ready to go if we need to evacuate, and found many games that we no longer play.  Later on in the week, we will drive to Pahoa and donate them to families that have lost everything.

My husband has a golf card that he uses as transportation for his landscape maintenance business.  It has broken down and for a few days now, with the roads only open to local traffic, he walks from job to job pushing his lawnmower and carrying his tools.  Yes, he does own a truck but this keeps it simple, until the roads are open to the public again.  I did stifle a giggle though as iI saw him today with the mower on, mowing the neighbors' roadside grass as he made his way home.

Night view from same spot.
The postal service has stopped delivering to our area, making it necessary to drive 15 miles roundtrip every few days and today began our water rationing with water on 2 hours in the morning and 2 hours at night.  We are being urged to conserve and as I took my shower tonight I was imagining the neighborhood water police judging my water usage next month.

By Jill Steele

Sunday, May 20, 2018

Lava Land Part 7: Kilauea Eruption

By Jill Steele


From the street in front of our house.
It has been a long week. Last Sunday seems so long ago.  Post Mother's Day week is traditionally slow in the flower business but this week was alarmingly slow.  I am attributing this to the media's sensationalizing of the lava flow, as if something as at once spectacular and terrible as this current one needs additional publicizing.
As well, it has been very hard to focus on anything besides it as my mind keeps coming back to the same few topics, which include:
Where is the lava and what is it doing now?
Who is in the neighborhood today and where did everyone go?
When is the water going to be on/off? 
When is my heartbeat going to return to normal?

May 19 Pohoiki Boat Ramp
Today I have banned myself from social media after realizing how compulsive I have become. Today my phone is just a phone and for communicating one on one.  My daughter has asked for another blog post though.  Is blogging social media?  
Our water was off for 36 hours this week but I reminded myself it was a small hardship compared to what those who have lost homes now face.
Our community yoga class, for which I am so grateful, especially during this time, has dwindled from 10 to 4 people due to logistics and evacuations. We who remain are finding community and peace through our practice and through sharing our stories and worries before and after class. Yoga is about finding balance and peace through the movements combined with breathing and I find I need it now more than ever.

May 19 near Champagne Pond


We have continued our daily rides to view and photograph the eruption, by bike during the day and by truck at night  We use the pictures to both appease and astound those who don't live here.  My mother-in-law needs constant reassurance that we are stlll okay and we will continue to send her daily photos as proof we are still safe.

I was relieved to hear the news of the lava reaching the ocean this morning.  I am trying to imagine the earth's release and this eruption coming to an end.   



Tuesday, May 15, 2018

Kilauea Eruption Part 6: Coping

May 14-15

By Jill Steele

It is a challenge, but I think we are doing okay living in the now and facing our fears about the lava flow.  I continue to work each morning at my flower business and write each afternoon and my husband continues to maintain and beautify the landscapes around our neighborhood.

Our senses are heightened-each moment seems more meaningful and our hearts are probably beating a bit faster than normal with the knowledge that miles away lava is exploding from the earth (we hear it).  

We took another bike ride to view the lava today around noon.  It looked less explosive than last night.  We needed to see it with our own eyes and not through the eyes of a lava chaser seeking to become  an internet star.  It stops us from continuously watching footage for hours on end.  
My husband seems positively energized by this development in our lives, washing windows that have long needed washing and planting new tropical flowers around our property to grow, hopefully for years to come and show Pele we are worthy of caring for her aina.


By Jill Steele