Poke, Poi, and Parties in Hawai’i

Hello!! Back again after a little blog hiatus, but I’ve got a lot to write about now! I just returned from my short but very packed vacation in Honolulu, Hawai’i, where I spent seven days staying at my grandma’s house (and my dad’s childhood home!) in Hawai’i Kai, spending time with family, at my favorite beaches, and eating way too much good food (not that I’m complaining). My dad was born and raised in O’ahu, with my great-grandparents immigrating to the islands from the Philippines in the 1940s—I lived there for a bit when I was younger, and now I return every year to see my entire extended family. Every visit is a reunion and reset and always the best reminder of who I am and where I come from. 

I flew into Hawai’i on Monday and was picked up from the airport by my parents and my twin sister, Kiana, who I hadn’t seen in two months. We drove past all my favorite beaches by my grandma’s house, listening to my favorite Jawaiian music on the way back with the windows rolled down. As my twin says, hearing the same 5 songs on repeat everywhere is how we know we’re home. Cecilio & Kapono, J Boog, Kolohe Kai—it’s the soundtrack to my childhood, every family gathering, every drive around the island.

I reunited with my grandma, my aunt, uncle, and baby cousin (Isla! She’s two now and calls me Breezy) upon returning home, and we picked up some spicy ahi poke from Costco for lunch. One of the things I miss the most on the mainland is the fresh fish that you can find everywhere in Hawai’i!! My favorite food after pho is poke, and though I can always get a bowl at Pokeworks in Boston during the academic year, it isn’t quite the same. That night I reunited with Melia, my younger sister, and three of my other cousins (two of which I hadn’t seen in ten years!!). The beautiful thing about family is how we always easily fall right back into rhythm like no time has passed—we stayed up way too late catching up and sharing stories, eating my dad’s home cooked beef stew in my grandma’s backyard. 

I spent the next few days at different beaches, stopping at Sandy’s to watch the break (my dad’s favorite pastime), Waikīkī to surf (for only an hour… we were on a tight schedule), and Lanikai to swim. One night I went to a luau with my family and watched hula while eating all my favorite Hawaiian foods—poi, kalua pig, laulau, and haupia. I never have haupia, which is like a coconut pudding/jelly, on the mainland. 

Another day all of my cousins and I (including another three that I hadn’t seen in the longest time—nine of us in total) planned an entire outing to Lanikai, where we drove three different cars loaded with kayaks and paddleboards and spent the entire time paddling out to Moku Nui, one of the twin islands about three-quarters of a mile off the coast. It took almost an hour to get there, and we got to explore the beach and rocks—but we were fueled by 7/11 spam musubis (my favorite snack! I’ve made it countless times at Wellesley and have had it at many of the luaus I’ve planned with the Pacific Islander Association). We even saw a Hawaiian monk seal lounging on the shore—it’s one of the most endangered seal species in the world, so we made sure to stay at least 30 feet away.

Then came the parties! My family is huge and everytime we all come together it’s insanely chaotic. We had three big family parties—the first being my cousin’s 15th birthday party and the next two being parties for my grandma’s 80th birthday and Melia’s high school graduation. One party my grandma brought Teppanyaki chefs to our backyard, and they grilled steak and shrimp and fried rice in front of us. My sisters and cousins and I had a whole table just for ourselves,  and we spent the entire evening cheering and listening to music. At my sister’s grad party we piled leis on her and had live music (a friend of my aunt’s from college played songs on the guitar!) and a poke truck (unlimited—I had five servings alone). I brought a friend from Wellesley to my party—Miki, who is from Hawai’i and lives a half hour away—and she got to meet my whole family and celebrate with us. I played ukulele with my uncles, singing “Waimanalo Blues” and “Moloka’i Slide” with everyone watching and cheering me on. We catered Hawaiian food, and ate poi that my cousins and I had packaged into tiny cups hours before. All parties went on past midnight, and we swam in the pool under string lights. I had missed my family so much and forgot just how beautiful it is to reunite with so many of the people I’ve grown up with. 

I think a lot about what it means to have a “home” when you’ve moved around your whole life, and for me, Hawai’i has always been the one constant. Though I wasn’t raised there, it’s where my great-grandparents started this entire family, and where generations later, we still gather to eat and sing and celebrate. I already miss Hawai’i, and it was very bittersweet to return for just a week. Though I love my Wellesley summer, it was very grounding to go back to Hawai’i for seven days and spend time with family. I’ve found a lot of community within Wellesley through my connection to Hawai’i, bonding with students from the islands with the Pacific Islander Association. I can always have a little taste of home even when I’m across the ocean. My cousins and I have already made promises to come back to Hawai’i next year at the same time—no matter how far away we go, we will always return. 

That’s all! Hope you enjoyed hearing about my week. Until next time!

Bri❤️