Culture Shock and Green

We walk 15 minutes to our office.  We go a bit on the King Kamehameha (named after the leader who got all the island people to unite) Highway, then cross it and go straight 5 blocks to our office. The highway is one lane each direction and circles the island.  It's the local main street.  The speed limit is 35 mph.  Driving is lovely on it--the scenery is tropical flora--house plants gone huge.  It has a 2-3 feet wide bike/walking edge--then a wide enough grass width for a good parking place before people's fences make their front yard.  I walk in that little bike/walk lane.

Yesterday I walked up to the place where I cross the highway.  I stepped back from the street--and was standing in the parking area.  I was studying the traffic in both directions, waiting for a clear space in both directions so I could cross.

As I was watching for a space in the lane away from me, I was shocked to see the next car stop for me.  I was aghast.  I am used to the Utah pedestrian motto: Run for Your Life.  Then I looked at the lane closest to me and saw the traffic stopped in that direction too.  I was flummoxed. (I've always wanted to use that word.)  I picked my chin off the ground and closed my mouth saying thank you to the drivers and scurried across. Pure culture shock.

I was so discombobulated that I only crossed one of the traffic circle streets.  BYUH is a straight shot (5 blocks) down the street.  So I should cross 2 traffic circle streets in order to continue going straight.  The street is dead ended by our building.  I CAN SEE THE HUGE MOSAIC OF DAVID O MCKAY AND THE HUGE CIRCLE OF TALL FLAGS--WITH TALL PALM TREES ON EACH SIDE from the highway.  It's hard to miss--unless you're in culture shock.  I calmed myself my admiring the bird of paradise which were blooming by the sidewalk. I love them, and although I watched for them, I saw none in American Samoa.I got almost to the end of the street and looked up to see not the Humanities building, but the Laie Temple--white, with terraces and columns manicured lush gardens, and PEACE/CALM heavy in the air-- dead ending the street I was on.  

I wear sport sunscreen when I walk to BYUH to keep sunspots from multiplying on my face.  I know why that sports stuff doesn't come off in water or sweat.  It's like applying varnish.  I'm sweating--sweat rolls down my cheeks.  I am reciting the first line of Leslie Norris' Hippopotamus poem, (When the sun beats down with a golden frown...) I decide to take the next street and follow the grid, which undoubtedly rules here.  NOT.  

God was with me-- the street I took did curve around to the campus, and once again I spied the tall flags.  All was well, except for my extreme sweating.  And I couldn't recupe in my air conditioned office and drink gallons of water.  I was 5 minutes late already and had to locate Greg's classroom (The same room I teach in the following hour). This sounds easy, but all the buildings and roofs are the same color.  I get lost every single day trying to find the classroom--and my way back to the English offices, so I had planned to meet Greg at his office (which I can find from the flags in the big circle) and walk with him to the classroom. I've been attending his class just before my class (same course--advanced writing) with readings from African American Literature.  Since this literature and historical context  is Greg's expertise, I attend his class to see how I should teach the following hour.

I really can find my way when I can see the landscape.  But Laie's landscape is tropical jungle. My sense of direction is that of a Plains Indian--Lakota Sioux.  It is not that of an indigenous tropical islander.  The two landscapes differ greatly. So much for my zen walk to BYUH yesterday...

Greg and I walked home together--the short direct way.  And we watched this chameleon walking on a concrete curb near the sidewalk.   Greg took these photos with his magic iphone. He was a foot in length, counting his tail.  Each step was a bit of a dance.  He placed his foot down, then put his weight forward on it, then swayed his body back to his former stance, then shifted his weight forward again (not moving feet).  He repeated this several times until his weight shifting assured him the concrete curb wasn't going to give under him.  Only then did he place his new foot forward and repeated the shifting.  I think this song is appropriate:  First you say you will, and then you won't--and then you say you do, and then you don't... or... It's not easy being green.  It looked funny to us, but I suppose it's a good way to travel on tree branches--with toes that split in the middle.

Linda