mele kalikimaka

Did you know that the Hawaiian islands are the most geographically isolated pieces of land on the globe? It's honestly not that shocking, but if you consider how many other land masses are stuck out in the middle of an ocean, it's a tad more impressive. Having said that, being stuck on this volcanic rock an entire 8,000 miles or so from home during this holiday season is monumentally devastating. The fact that I'm here without my arsenal of Christmas CD's only makes it all worse. Perhaps I'm being dramatic, but I am quite enthusiastic about Christmas. (This is one of the few traits I have not acquired from my Dad, who is Scrooge incarnate until December 24th.) Every year my internal holiday calendar attempts to tell me it's time to deck the halls around mid-July. I usually resist until approximately September, but this year I didn't have to. There was a complete lack of Christmas spirit, or any spirit at all really, until today. Hawaii celebrates Christmas like the rest of us. The city attached the customary tinsel Christmas trees and candy canes to the light posts before the Thanksgiving turkey had even been carved. Holiday music is piped through the open air mall for all to hear, although an occasional Mele Kalikimaka featuring the ukulele can be heard. Children began waiting in line for Santa a week ago. Despite all this, I was incapable of comprehending what the calendar in front of me was saying. My logic knew the date, but my mind was skeptical. There is something surreal about spending this holiday surrounded by birds of paradise and hibiscus plants. Starbucks breaks out their supply of cups with white snowflakes on a red background and I'm left wondering why I'm not wearing a scarf. Expressing my unexpected disbelief at my tropical winter wonderland only makes me sound irrational and ignorant to those that are born and raised here. After all, what's so great about snow and it's accompanying wind chill factor? What exactly is it that I am so confounded by? I hate to say it, and I never thought I would, but I miss the cold. Maybe not the wind chill factor part, but maybe a light snow flurry. I ventured down into the lobby of my apartment today only to discover the strong smell of pine. My initial reaction was confusion, but then curiosity took hold and I found a twelve foot Christmas tree. It was magnificent. Now, in my house we normally used an artificial tree, unless somehow my Mom finagled my Dad into going real. That was considered a rare treat. So this scent brought back a highlights reel of my favorite Christmases. I garnered some odd looks when I stopped to smell it like a bouquet of flowers, I'm sure.