I woke up around 7 a.m. by the sound of my roommate’s voice talking on the phone. I almost asked him to whisper but then I remembered I was sleeping in the community room. I figured it wasn’t my place, but at the same time, we are supposed to keep quiet until 7:30 a.m. I let it go.
Practicing Yoga in the Community Room
I stayed in bed for another 5 minutes, or maybe 10. Then I jumped on my feet, grabbed a yoga mat and practiced some movement. It felt good to breathe but my energy was low. I almost fell off some simple poses, it was quite pathetic, and considering that I am not only supposed to be a fruitarian bodybuilder, but a yoga teacher as well. On the brighter side, the sun was rising through the palm trees and the new morning was bringing me hope.
I got on the mat for another ten breaths and then decided I’ve had enough. I put my pants back on and headed downstairs to the kitchen. I asked around the group to find out what everyone was doing today. Sundays is the day everyone goes to the market. I asked Bill, the owner of the farmer if he would be driving us there and he said no, he was going to church first.
I thought about joining him at church and something inside of me said no, it sounded like fear. I stayed in the kitchen talking to the group, but when I saw Bill walking to his car timed stopped and I knew I had a choice. I decided to surrender and join him at church.
My First Visit to Hawaiian Church
By now you may want to know that I was born and raised Jewish. I probably had never been to church before. It has always been quite intimidating and we all know church doesn’t have the best reputation in the world. Despite all that I decided to leave my judgments aside and follow my intuition.
We stopped at the natural store to grab a few items. Bill got a small bag of dates, I got a small bag of alfalfa sprouts and Doug, the third man in our group, got a big bag of spirulina which he shares around the community with families in need. I found that behavior to be supreme.
We made it to church just in time. The congregation was singing a prayer song. There was 100 or 200 people standing, dancing and clapping. On top of the stage there was a band, five singers, a guitar and a drum. Over the stage there was a large screen with the words of the song changing with every slide.
I found this behavior quite uplifting. I am a big fan of songs and I find it valuable to praise the lord, regardless of names and doctrines. As a matter of fact, I am a community leader myself. My preference is Kirtan, a form of chanting, call-and-response, traditional of the Hindu religion. IT is one of my biggest passions and it brings to me great joy.
Listening to the Words
As soon as that song ended we all sat down and looked towards the front. The band left and a man walked on stage, he shared a few welcoming words for new visitors and then proceeded with the ritual of taking in the “communion”. This included eating a cracker (representing the body of Jesus Christ) and sipping on a few drops of wine (representing the blood of Jesus Christ). I passed on both, alcohol is not permitted in our community and crackers are certainly not raw.
A few moments later the pastor walked on stage. He was a young looking man, in his mid-40s, the purple on his shirt matched the background on the screen. I thought that was a nice touch.
I listened to him talk while I browsed over the bible and booklet I was gifted at the door. He talked about the story of John the Baptize and I read some words about God, Jesus, the devil, angels, demons, heaven, and hell and so on. From time to time I found a few words of wisdom. The booklet I was giving had some nice jewels. The bible was a bit harder to swallow.
I can humbly say that I praise myself as an open minded person willing to take in any piece of advice. However, I do not follow dogma and I am subtly skeptic of every spoken and written word. I tried to translate the words of the bible to match up to what I already know. After all, every religion comes from the same source and I believe that, if you truly understand one, you understand them all. That being said, there were some things in there that I simply could not agree with, it was a bit frustrating but my acceptance was strong. I took it for what it was.
My First Visit to the Market
Following the sermon we got back in the car and headed to the Sunday market. To be honest, I was expecting more. The quality of the food was so-so and the prices were higher than a Hawaiian volcano. I thought that fruit and vegetables would be cheaper straight from the source. Unfortunately, everything in Hawaii is expensive, and the farmers need to compensate.
Just to give you an idea, bananas where $1 per pound, I can get those for 70 cents in Boulder, organic. Cucumbers where expensive too and so were the celery, tomatoes and avocados. The only things that I found reasonably priced where garlic, lemons and alfalfa sprouts. The only thing that was cheap were the papayas, 25 cents apiece, approx.
Back at the Kanekiki Community Farm
We headed back to the farm and I continued to contemplate my return back to Colorado. Disappointment after disappointment force on me these thoughts. I do not blame anyone but myself, perhaps my expectation where too high, although I barely had any. I simply have needs that are not being met and without being stoked here I find no reason to stay.
Surely enough, I could fight through it all. I could wait for the weather to improve or give myself more time to adapt. I could take it as a learning experience, a challenge to overcome. I could practice contentment, acceptance, gratitude and love. Then again, I can also do all that back at home.
There is no doubt that I need to have that talk. I am a little concerned on what the group will say. I didn’t ask for the internship’s refund policy, which was also my fault. I trust it will all be alright, I am a little bummed thought, I had lots of hope. It is what it is through and all I can do is listen to my heart and be true to myself, if this is how far I can go, there is nothing else to say.
