Note: I just got up from a nap after writing the below earlier this morning. Please excuse the delay of timeliness.
May 15th, 2018 - 2:30 AM
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Had to get up from bed at 1:15 this morning. Didn’t have to use the bathroom, though - it was the noise from the littoral steam and lava bomb explosions some 13 miles away down in Lelani Estates. Normally, the only sounds this time of morning are the coqui frogs or the occasional aggressive rooster asserting his dominance. Those have stopped tonight: even the animals realize that something is not normal.
This might have been what it sounded like in the rural nearby towns in England when the Germans were bombing the hell out of London in 1940… distant muffled explosions of various degrees of intensity and randomness, some loud enough to lightly rattle a window or two, but not quite enough to send sharp pangs of fear raging through the brain. The terribleness of what causes the sound is several miles away from us and by virtue of topography and geology this spot here where I sit in the middle of the night is said to be immune from the destructive effects of Madame Pele’s anger for this moment in geologic time.
Yesterday evening, coming home from a great Mothers Day dinner in Hilo, we pulled into our driveway and much to our shock and intimidation we could see bright orange lava fountains soaring into the sky looking south out in the distance through the jungle, 13 miles away. However, tonight this is a different kind of intimidation — an intimidation by proxy: even as I’m writing this and consider our good fortune in this place where I sit I am sadly mindful of the unfortunate souls who at this moment are trying to get some sleep on the floors of evacuation shelters or on the ground inside of tents - with that noise several orders of magnitude louder - wondering how they will get on with their lives - will their homes survive this? Where will they go and what will they do? They are the papaya, guava and taro farm workers, tropical flower farmers, gardeners, contractors, handymen, school teachers, retirees - a lot of Vietnam veterans - and a smattering of 1960s inveterate aging hippies that bailed on Nixon’s mainland decades ago and hunkered down into south Puna’s deep jungles to “turn on, tune in and drop out” on their own terms. The truth of the matter is that most of these people have literally nowhere else to go.
However there is fear elsewhere, thousands of miles away from this place, far out of earshot from the explosions and nowhere near the heat of the lava flows and the odor of sulfur and burning vegetation- artificially created fear that by either intentional or indirect design is crippling our economy and portends long term damage to the livelihoods of people on this and our neighboring islands who are completely unaffected by the volcanic tantrum rumbling under my feet. The local news reports an 80% cancellation rate for hotels here on this island, for both Kona and Hilo sides - and Lahaina on Maui, Honolulu on O’ahu and Koloa on Kaua’i are reporting rapidly increasing cancellations. Even cruise ships who normally come to port of calls in Hilo and Kailua have diverted to Kahului and Lahaina on Maui to avoid the effects of the disaster that is nowhere near either port. Mainland media and its hyper-inflated apocalyptic reporting of the goings-on at Leilani Estates deliberately characterizes this event by giving the impression that rivers of surging lava are engulfing the entire state, Volcano National Park is going to explode at any moment and sink the entire island chain into the Pacific, and poison gas from the fissures is killing babies and livestock in their sleep as it suffocates every living thing from Kapoho to Tokyo. Even mainland retail advertising has decided to co-opt our troubles:
So we’re now expected to see advertisements that riff on our natural disaster? Where were the clever ads for makeup during those petrifying northeastern blizzards? For funeral services during midwest tornados? For hamburgers during the deep south hurricanes?
That said, it almost feels like the mainland conservative media moguls have found a way to use the very mechanism Makuahine Nature uses to create this place to begin with as punishment for our Aloha Spirit that demanded our refusal to support the crime family in Washington and their pack of vicious gangsters in the last election. I realize that sentiment is likely a bit of a stretch, but it certainly seems as though they have an aversion for people who live on islands - ask anyone from Puerto Rico.
Not even some of the finest scientific minds in the U.S. Geological Survey have any idea when these localized eruptions will cease and desist; all of it could stop next week- or in 3 months- or suddenly stop then start up again a few weeks later. At the end of the day though, no matter what anybody says or does, Makuahine Nature will have her way. Frequently, the planet has different plans than the little temperamental creatures crawling around on its surface making a mess of things. We’re figuring out how to cope: other islands are coming to our aid with donations of food, clothing and temporary shelter, as we came to the aid of Kaua’i after their devastating floods a month ago — and the efforts continue even now.
How we here in Hawaii will deal with this will define us as a people and a nation that was stolen by oligarchs a hundred years ago; and how the mainland reacts to our plight most certainly will define them.