Since I’ve been in Hawaii, my sinuses have been giving me trouble breathing through my nose, tasting food, and making me sound like a four-year-old. This has been going on for weeks, and I have to thank the Jordanian culture of smoking shisha multiple times a day, and our western touch to it – smoking three argeelahs (hookahs) at once. Anyway, here I am, taking it easy in Hawaii – not exactly what I planned for, especially if you check my my luggage. I packed my runners for morning jogs, emergency kit for hikes through the jungle, binoculars for spotting.. well, I don’t know, I just brought binoculars. Instead, I’ve been reading by the beach or out on the lanai, shopping, following my aunt around town, and getting to know the Kona nightlife pretty well. And currently, I have my left foot placed in a glass cooking tray, soaking in vinegar and water.
Yesterday I ventured out to turtle beach with a pack filled with my lunch, cold drinks, camera, and the last chapters of “The Moses Expedition” I picked up at the LAX airport. On my walk over, I stopped at a couple lookouts to photograph the ocean until I reached turtle beach. You have to stay on the designated path through beach house property or you will find yourself being scolded by the owners/renters. Then there is a stretch of lava rocks at the shore that leads to the small, sandy beach. The idilic part of the beach with a shallow pool was taken by a couple doing rolling around in the sand, and so I set out my towel some meters away. It wasn’t a bad decision because as soon as looked out at the shore, there were three full grown sea turtles wading in the water. Beyond that, the surf was coming in, and as the waves curled over, I could spot more turtles coming to shore.
When I had worked up a sweat under the sun, the ocean had calmed and the turtles chilled just below the surface. I went for a swim with the beautiful creatures. They were so close, I didn’t even need to stretch out my hand to touch them. Suddenly, they went under. I was being sucked backwards. I turned around and looked up at a wave hanging over a meter above me. It crashed over me and a second later I felt a pain in my left foot. I swam to the shore. At every attempt, a new swell pulled me back into a new wave. I plummeted my feet into the rocks to grab hold and got myself to shore. The bottom of my left foot stung. It was covered in sand and blood. I washed it with my bottled water and saw the black spikes.
I gathered up my things, put on my clothes, and looked for where to go. The closest house had a couple women tanning on lawn chairs earlier. I recalled a girl earlier asking to cut through their lawn to get to the other side of the road, but they sent her down the long path of lava rocks instead. I hobbled over, ducked underneath a hammock, but they weren’t there. I saw through a darkened window of the giant, white beach house that they were in the kitchen. I tried getting their attention but they were hollering and taking photos. Finally, I got one’s attention who “na-ah”ed me about me cutting through. I asked if she could help me out with my foot. She came from the porch and down the stairs. This woman was around 40, with a serious tan, and topless. All she had on was a green high-cut bikini bottom, and that didn’t even cover very much. She looked at my foot and told me, “That’s wna (pronounced vana). People step on it all the time. When you get a chance, pee on it to stop the sting and then soak it in vinegar and water. Seriously, peeing on it is the best thing you can do. Over time it will dissolve on its own from black to grey. It will then die. What you have in your foot is a living orgasm. Opps, I mean organism.” She then let me cut through the lawn.
Once on the road, I began my hobble home. I recognized the man heading my way. This guy is in his late 50s and had met him a few days ago at Magics Sands beach. He knows my aunt and had handed her a hibiscus flower. He sounded fried. We made our leave when he mentioned ‘dildos’ in a story. So he sees me on the limping on the road and he gets off his skateboard. He asks if I have a thorn in my foot and I say, “plenty”. A man in a car pulling out of a driveway rolls down his window and tells me that he is picking up his daughter and if I wanted a ride. I think about the long walk home, and its not long after that I’m buckling in my seat belt and being introduced to his dog who is also sitting in the drivers seat.
I got home, started the soak, and that’s my present state. I believe I have another lazy day ahead of me.