Posted on 08/31/2009 12:47:55 PM PDT by kaehurowing
Heck, if you want to fly a little further, you can get to Australia and REALLY have a good time!
Growing up in Hawaii I was only beaten three times as a kid because of my race, and one time they also stole my stuff, so I guess that one was robbery too and can’t be counted as a hate crime. And I never had to go to the hospital so I guess it was ok, and like a lot of local people who look haole (I’m actually hapa), if you grow up here you know all the places it’s unsafe to go to.
SUPPOSED GREEK AND HEBREW RESEMBLANCES OF ANCIENT HAWAIIANSHmmmmmm…—the first, that Greek remains have been discovered in South America, and that faint vestiges of Greece are also traceable in the islands of Hawaii. The other supposition is that of the Hawaiian race being of Hebrew origin, and that these islanders represent the lost tribes of the house of Israel.
Perhaps the Hawaiians need to make room for others…. ;)
I just joined this forum. As a kid, what I learned from my hapa father is that Polynesian means many races or lover of many races. I am hapa hapa and since my 3 other ethnicities are haole I look like a white Hawaiin with green eyes. Others who are 1/4 like me have other dark or Asian ethnicities and more easily pass for Native Hawaiin. The one time I went to the islands to visit family with my sisters (who are darker but we all have curly hair) the cab driver thought it very funny that we were staying with family on homestead in Makaha. I did sense some anger in other Hawaiin eyes but not too much. I wish they could know that there are a lot more of us internationally. Hawaiins should know that the white Hawaiins have had the most taken from them because we are what’s left of the original Hawaiins when the white man first came. Even our blood was taken because we were so pretty. I’m glad what’s left of the beautiful Hawaiins stick together and teach the children. Another way our land was taken was to marry a princess with a lot of land. A lot of the British did this even with their haole wives on the mainland or United Kingdom. I don’t know how I ended up here while trying to find how to register as Native Hawaiin. I think the more of us the better. All of my father’s 8 brothers and sisters were born at home in North Kohala and never had a birth certificate. My father had to use some Merchant Marine paper to get a passport and it says he was born in Honolulu. Eventually I will find a way. Here was a nice place to write about the horrible pain one feels when treated as just another haole when you’re actually very proud of your Kanaka heritage.
Hey...we could sell Hawaii to the Chinese for say...about 2 trillion dollars or about what we owe them in terms of US sovereign debt, there bye cancelling our debts with them....Obama might be crazy enough to do it!
It has been my experience in Barbados that they cultivate a “face” for the tourists as official policy, and everyone is encouraged to do so in their own self interest.
It is kind of a good natured standing joke, but they take it seriously. They know their lifeblood is tourism, and they take the smart approach. As I result, I have found it to be a pleasant place, even if people are just presenting an attitude.
Bermuda used to be the same way, but it went a little deeper with them...they actually felt as a matter of individual integrity to be polite. It has changed pretty dramatically, I am told (haven’t been there for a few years)
Apparently, the young people don’t see any need to hew to the old line and embrace actual good manners as a trait...quite the contrary, they are going out of their way to rebel against it.
My wife and I had an interesting experience a few years ago...we were walking on Bermuda, and had walked further than our legs could carry us, so we decided to catch a bus, something we had not done before. When a bus came, we got on, but when we went to offer some bills for payment, the driver got really upset and began laying into us. We couldn’t figure out why, but after about 15 seconds, we realized you have to have exact change.
Burning with embarrassment, we sat down on the bus full of people, our faces red with humiliation (or so it felt). An older woman sitting near us leaned forward and addressed the driver in a calm voice: “That was not right. You should not have spoken to those people that way. They aren’t from here and they don’t know the rules.”
When I turned to look at her, I saw her and other people on the bus digging in their pockets to get change for us.
It may be different there now, but I thought that was remarkable.
As for Hawaii...I do not, and have never felt any desire to go there. I lived in the Philippines for several years, and that was tropical paradise to me. Hawaii always seemed like it would be a tourist-trap stereotype, and I had heard about the generally unfriendly nature of the population for years. I have never felt any desire whatsoever to go there.
Hawaii did actually play a very prominent role in my life. My wife went there with her then boyfriend of some time, an Egyptian physician she was planning to marry. It was there in Hawaii, on the island, that the relationship fell apart. It was a long, long flight for my wife back to the East Coast, the poor thing.
Best thing that ever happened to me!
I picked her up on the rebound...:) So now, we watch and see how many relationships come to grief on trips to Hawaii...we humorously council people not to go, as it is “The Graveyard of Relationships”...nothing good will come of it (except OUR relationship, of course...:)
Any kind of ethnic or gender study professor at any university is a fraud, and particularly, native american studies, black studies and women studies. Of these, Native American studies are said to be the most fervent and ideological. I read a book (I think by Linda Chavez...not to be confused with Linda Chavez-Thompson) that discussed unions and one of the things she touched on in this book or one of her others was the school textbook racket, and the type of people who populate it.
It was a real eyeopener, the censorship and liberal editing of these books used in public schools, and one of the primary forces in all of the companies are these people with degrees in Native American Studies. It was appalling, the degree of control they have, and exercise.
This is what you get when you ignore the volcano gods.
LOL...”Bad Liberty” in Olongapo????
LOL...you get sick at “Nippers” in the Abacos, and you’re in trouble!
LOL...”Bad Liberty” in Olongapo????
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Late 50’s, early 60’s ALL liberty in Westpac was “ICHI-BAN”
Olangapo with its world famous waterway may have been the ‘armpit of the world’, but it was a fine liberty town for young adventurers....
BTW
You must have been ‘away’....this is a response to an Aug 2009 thread>>???? <: <: <:
They can keep their tourism cash. It’s the complete elimination of all the Federal bennies that will have them howling if they undo their statehood.
They’ll probably apply to keep them as “reparations”.
Isn’t that funny? How did that happen...how did I stumble into this thread? Someone MUST have linked me to it...how else would I get here?
Fascinating...:)
I lived in Yokosuka for a few years too. Incredibly interesting as a dependent. My favorite story was when I was eight years old. I didn’t have an ID card yet, so I couldn’t go off base by myself. But there was an old battleship, the Mikasa (a veteran of the Russo-Japanese War Battle of Tsushima) set up in concrete as as memorial. It was right on the water’s edge on the northern(I think) edge of the base.
Right where the fence came up, you could lift the fence and crawl under it, which is what I would do. Then, I would wander around off base, looking at all the strange things...plastic food...pachinco ball parlors...and the smell. It was the mixed smell of human waste, fish and car exhaust. Everything to me was completely alien, as if I had been dropped off on another planet.
To get back on the base, I would just walk in. The Marines guarding the gate would never ask you, because you were a kid and if you got off base, then you must have a card.
One afternoon (around 5:30 PM) when I was going back on base, they stopped me. They took me inside the guard shack and sat me in a metal chair. There were five of them, wearing the blue trousers with the red stripe, khaki shirt on top and the white cover. As I sat in the chair, they hovered menacingly around me, arms crossed. “How do we know you aren’t a spy”? they asked me. I said I wasn’t, and one of them said “Okay...who won the 1967 World Series?” My favorite player happened to be Lou Brock at the time, so I knew it was the Cardinals. It is funny to look back on now.
I wasn’t a spy, and I didn’t think at all that they thought so either...but they were awfully serious, and I thought they might simply be messing with me while waiting for the Shore Patrol and the Master at Arms to come down and pick me up...just having some fun. Now, I realize they fully knew who I was, because my dad was the head of security on the base at the time...:)
I had another story...
One of the oddest and most interesting things to me was that whenever an aircraft carrier came into port, there would be these HUGE demonstrations outside the base.
At around 9:00 AM several hundred Japanese riot police would assemble in a field near my house, then on cue shortly thereafter, the crowds would assemble outside the fence near the main gate with banners and megaphones...I seem to remember large groups, but it might have only been 500 or even a thousand. They would get vocal and demonstrate for a while, then again, on cue, some of them would go over and begin climbing the fence. The fire trucks inside the base parked nearby would begin spraying the demonstrators on the fence with fire hoses, knocking them off, then they would begin spraying the other demonstrators through the fence.
Shortly thereafter, the demonstrators would disperse, the area would be quickly cleaned up, and when the water evaporated, there was no indication that anything had transpired.
When I think of it now, it seemed like one big, huge, ritualized kabuki dance. Everyone knew their roles on both sides, the whole thing went down like clockwork, and then it was over until the next time.
I remember my brother and I going over and talking to a bunch of the Japanese riot police, and inviting them back to our house after the demonstration was over. We went into the cabinets and opened up a bunch of cans of stuff and poured them into bowls. I recall that we had maybe ten bowls of things like chick peas, corn, whatever.
My mom came home, and politely told the Japanese guys to leave, which they did. I have no idea what my mother thought of that. I think she must have thought we were just crazy.
I made my first Westpac in 57-when they ‘warned’ us about eating Japanese grown vegetables and then got homeported in Yokosuka in 1960. Left for Sub School in 62.
As to the Main Gate Demonstrations.
I remember when they first started it was kind of ‘touchy’ but a couple of ‘threats’ of closing the town down got the Japanese to thinking the demonstrators were also a ‘pain in the arse’, so a compromise was sort of worked out.
They got one gate to ‘set up camp’ and the other two were used to come and go.
Never any problems, and everybody was ‘happy’.
Hmm. That is an interesting time indeed to be in the Sub Service...
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