Chester Dog, The Ambassador

This story is about getting a dog.  Please bear with me until I get to my point:

A funny thing about humanity is our need to categorize everything. We categorize to divide up society, even sorting people into “nons;” non-drinker, non-Mormon, non-Hawaiian.   The nons are usually unaware of their non-status even though the “are’s” have placed them there.

In Hawaii, we have local categories: Local Hawaiian, Local Filipino, Local Haole [how-lee], Local Asian.  All are nons of the others.  Too, locals can only be classified as local after say ten years of living in Hawaii.  If you have moved here within the last ten years you are called a transplant, politely, and many adjectives not so politely.    

I am okay with this, usually.  On Maui, I am labeled a Haole (a white person), but I have not lived here long enough to be Local Haole yet.  Ask our west neighbor, a Hawaiian family that does not want to say hi to us.

Yet, respect must be given to Hawaiian heritage.  Theirs is a beautiful culture that should not be extinguished, even though progress cannot be avoided. 

A deep frustration with foreigners is very present with Native Hawaiians.  Foreigners have moved in and pushed up the cost of living here to astronomical levels.  We barricade the best beaches with hotels.  Every morning the Fairmont Hotel in Wailea manicures the sand on “its beach.”  Then the resort lines up hooded/view-blocking lounge chairs over a span of 600 feet and serves Pina Coladas to reclined and shaded beach dwellers for a tourist price per night of $600, plus gratuity.  As a token effort, hotels leave a 50-foot beach section for locals on this and many other Maui public beaches otherwise outlined with pools, bars, walkways and tiki torches.

Even though people are, shall we say, categorized on Maui, we get along quite well in island life.  People are simply nice, and most are courteous.  Tourists sense this when visiting here, and it is true.  The spirit of Aloha exudes, flowing rampant on the island. This is due to centuries of wonderful culture.

Yet, a lot goes on behind the scenes and sometimes right up front within all local populations.   For example, for decades, some Local Hawaiians have wanted their previous nation back.  Still do.  I respond to this with "possibly", but before you act, think through the repercussions.

For Hawaii to become an independent nation, economically it will need to find a way to buyout the U.S.’s military might and pay for operating costs of Hawaii military bases.  Or, Hawaii can tell the U.S. to take all its military out of the islands, including military jobs, then hope some crazy dictator doesn’t find the islands a prime acquisition target.  Hawaii will need to find more taxes for education, roads, Medicare, Medicaid, and Social Security, unless it chooses not to keep these programs.

If you get Haoles to leave the islands, as some desire, the significantly decreased housing and hotel demand will plummet values. The Great Recession is a mild example of a drop in real estate demand.

Hawaii probably can never return fully to all old customs, to free and open land, to fishing without limits, etc.  The hotels on the beaches bring in millions and millions of tax dollars every year.  Many locals know this.  Many locals depend on this for their living.  But Hawaii can try to prevent more hotels from popping up.  A balance is needed. 

For some, the foreign intrusion is a reason to gripe, with validity.  But can you go back?

So now I get to my very wonderful point: get a dog.  No matter what “local” you are in Hawaii, a dog can be the best bridge to friendship, and a remover of categories. 

Walking a small dog on the beach or on the sidewalk, children of all ethnicities want to pet your dog while you chat about dogs with their parents.  Tourists walk from sometimes 500 feet across the beach to ask if they can pet your dog because they miss their dog at home.   The guy in a hurry in his jacked-up black pickup truck with an “808AllDay” window sticker may not stop if I’m on a bike or jogging, but he will always stop if I need to walk my dog across the street. 

Chester Dog

If you have a dog like our Chester, who has a tendency to walk up to a stranger to be pet (because he thinks that is his role in life), the stranger many times, no matter his or her local status, smiles.  A smile is the best start of a conversation, the best way to get people out of their category and into a chat about where they live, what they do, what kind of dog they have and how old.   In these moments, we forget about clumping each other into defined groups, and we talk about pets, and homes, and Haleakala, and flora, and lack of weather (non-weather, if you will). 

Recently, when I walked into the Kaiser-Permanente Hospital on Maui as my new health care provider, I had to fill out a questionnaire.  I skipped over the part about my ethnicity and marked “other.”  I skipped over the part where I had to mark “never married,” “widowed” or “divorced” and noted “none of your business.” 

The gal entering the information into her computer finally smiled at me when she copied my answers.  And I smiled back.  This is what life should be like.  Meeting one on one as individuals and treating each other with kindness and respect. 

Better yet, get a dog.  A friendly dog simply erases society’s “non” categories here on the islands.   And that’s a good thing.