Island People
August 23rd, 2004 | Posted by Shannon
Many days have passed since I last wrote. And after this, more days will pass until I write again. One thing that has not been perfected blog-wise is how to do it without a computer. Maybe someday you will just scan things in your brain and it will automatically download to the other people’s brains. The other people could like, subscribe or something. Perhaps there will be a Google search engine, just for brains to transmit information. They could call it, Broogle.
Anyway, the reason I have not been writing is, I went to Maui, to attend my brother’s wedding and the reason I will not be writing is, I have to go to the Central Coast for work. You know, my life is pretty good sometimes. Maui was nice, but driving from winery to winery in the Santa Ynez Valley, and making money doing it, is better.
The wedding was beautiful. There were only ten of us there – the bride and groom, and eight family members. I was a bit worried that the other family would be, well, I can’t use the words weird or bizarre, because weird and bizarre are fine with me. I guess I was worried that they would be ultra suburban, uber-republican, or for the women, “frosty.” Frosty is a term I use for women that are frosted. Frosty lip-gloss, frosty toenails, everything is frosty. My other brother, Tom, sometimes consults me now on the frostiness of his prospective chicks. He understands that frostiness is good only if you plan on never speaking to the frosty one after the night in question.
Anyhow, back to the wedding. I loved Carrie’s family. Her father is a bit of a republican, but also drinks a lot of beer and is, in general, extremely mellow. Her brother is very good looking and has traveled all over the world in search of good surfing spots, and now lives in a kitchen-less ground-floor uber-space that may or may not have rats. Her mother was just incredibly nice, easy-going, and fun. Carrie’s three aunts were there as well, eccentric and talkative and entertaining. I mean that as the hugest compliment, in case they ever discover this thing. There was just the slightest tint of frost on one aunt and since we were in Maui, it was acceptable. In fact, I now realize that I, Shannon Essa, was awfully frosty there, as I took the opportunity of the island locale to apply some Lancome Juicy Tube Lip stuff in some majorly frosty color on my generally unfrosted lips.
There were seats set up in a quiet area on the grounds of the Kaanapali Beach Hotel, and a videographer, photographer, lady singer/guitar player, and the minister were all there to oversee everything. I have to say, that whole video thing sort of bugs. People need to have a few drinks in them before they are going to hula in front of a camera, dude. But whateves, it was part of the package. We sat and talked and my brother was very nervous. Finally Carrie walked up, the minister said stuff like “Huakee caakee maakee” for twenty minutes and then they were married and we could go on to the luau.
My two previous luau experiences consisted of one truly lame luau somewhere in Kauai a million years ago and the luau at the Imperial Palace Hotel in Las Vegas, which was not really lame only because of the camp value of going to a Vegas luau and the Prince impersonator who “sang” there. Both had an hour of free watered-down mai tais and nasty, inedible food. So I was not expecting much of my brother’s reception dinner at “The Feast of Lele” in Lahaina. It turned out to be a perfect way to celebrate. At this luau, you have your own table; there are five courses (with several dishes in each course), all the drinks you want, and entertainment between every course. This was the first place I saw native islanders waiting tables, which immediately endeared it to me – I’d only seen white chick servers in West Maui up to that point. The servers wore orange and yellow thingies wrapped around themselves and feathers in their hair; several had tattoos, and all had beautiful skin. It was a feast-for-the-eyes, not just Lele.
The food was pretty good two. Each course hailed from a different region – Hawaii, New Zealand, Samoa, Tahiti – we tried some new and different items like fern salad and sea beans, but also had some old standbys like pork-baked-in-a-pit and a sweet-sauced sliced steak. I asked our server, “Do they have cows in Samoa?” Our server, a neat little package of good humored wonder and fresh wine-getting efficiency, laughed, like he did pretty much every time you talked to him. “I think I asked the same thing myself,” he said. It didn’t really matter that beef may or may not be a staple of Samoa. Everyone was way too happy to fret about it. The sun went down, there was dancing and fire breathing, and spear throwing. I really, really loved the Feast of Lele.
The trip was short, but my brother and his new bride are still in Maui, alone, probably happy everyone has gone and they can be honeymooners. I am happy because his new family is one I can relate to, and will want to visit. I hope Carrie’s family feel the same way.
