Dearest Rachel -
There's something about being on vacation that… I won't say "upsets one schedule," because that's kind of the whole point. Not all travel is meant to be relaxing – and, as I've discussed before about the word's origins, it wasn't considered to be at all back in the day – but leisure tourism is a big industry these days. However, it's one thing to leave one's daily issues, one's workaday struggles, behind; it's something else to essentially abandon certain routines of life that, in any other context, would be considered a good thing to keep up. One doesn't shave every day, for instance, because it seems too 'uptight' to be so concerned about that aspect of one's appearance. That, and the fact that the beach bum look is fairly common down here; why not blend in to the extent it isn't much trouble?
Granted, that's a rather innocuous example of how one lets certain rules (however self-imposed) relax, while on vacation. After all, to a certain extent, relaxation is exactly what you're here to do in the first place. But then, there are other habits of life that are simply more difficult to keep up, and easy to forget about, that really ought to be maintained.
Let's start with the fact that it's hard to remember what day of the week it is. One day blends into the next, and you've no idea which one it is, unless you're staring at the floor in the elevators; the rugs are changed on a daily basis to remind passengers. However, since I'm trying to exercise by going up and down the stairs all the time, I'm never seeing those.
As a result, Sunday comes and goes, and I forget to observe it. Ash Wednesday was one thing, because of the confluence of it and Valentine's Day – normally, I don't concern myself with such liturgical holiday in the first place, but the combination got my attention. And I'd already effectively missed one Sunday as we were getting on the ship; it's rather embarrassing that I very nearly forgot about yesterday as well.
However, it would seem, I have a better chance of finding a fellowship in port than I do at sea. While wandering about on Ali'i Drive, I heard the strains of a familiar hymn, and decided to join in…
They seemed more than welcoming for all to join in – and, considering the constant stream of tourists from the main street the church is situated on, I guess that's to be expected. This is their mission; something that Dad would call "curb appeal," and they've clearly embraced it. It makes me wonder just what the ratio of regular congregants to tourist visitors like myself is. I know several of those sitting around me, when we were invited to stand up and greet each other, proved to be fellow travelers on the Serenade of the Seas. I didn't ask the cute girl who was sitting in from of me (all alone in the row, no less… was she that unapproachable?) if she was, but I felt uncomfortable doing so, as I often do.
They did spend what I thought was an inordinate time discussing the history of the first Hawaiian Christian, who apparently passed away on this day some 205 years ago. Even if he was canonized as a saint (unlikely, as this church felt decidedly Protestant in nature, including a sermon that basically read through Romans 10 in its entirety), he shouldn't be the focus of the ministry. On the other hand, there's something to be said for the fact that he is a part of their heritage, and why Christians even exist on the islands, let alone in such numbers; certainly, we tourists come to certain places to learn about the history of the places we visit, and this isn't entirely out of place so much as a question of focus and degree.
On my way back through the town, there had also sprung up an artist's festival, complete with booths selling things along the length and breadth of Ali'i Drive. So, I managed to pick up a few souvenirs along my way – mostly edible stuff, so no one has to worry about accumulating too much stuff. I also found myself asking the proprietor of the Scandinavian Ice Shave place about that particular connection. Evidently, the original owner had been Finnish; guess he thought of Hawaii as being like a year-round open air sauna or something.
And finally, on my way back to the ship, as I was just about to leave the tender and get back aboard, I remembered one other thing I needed to take care of:
I almost forgot to leave a little bit of you behind. Fortunately, I had you with, so that was easily dealt with. I actually did it without having the camera on, so what you see is a re-enactment of me shaking you in; you can't see that the lid is turned so nothing more flows out, but I do. Still, you have a few grains floating among the reefs of Kona; now, on to Honolulu.
Keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. Given my memory, I'm going to need it.
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