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times too often.” I was still laughing at her remark as we made our way into the tiny town
at Kaunakakai harbor.
Looking around we saw that there was not much more to this town than an old-fashioned,
little supermarket and a quaint coffee shop next door to that, as well as a few other appro-
priate little shops and dealers. The main road snaked out of town with the colorful tin roof
Hawaiian shanty shacks dotted along the mauka (mountain or inland) side of this sunny,
little paradise island. Bougainvillea plants blazed gorgeous reds and oranges and purples as
far as the eye could see as tall fluffy palms waved lazily in the morning sun. We strolled
into the coffee shop and immediately the friendly hum of the locals ceased. I supposed all
little towns were the same when strangers walked into a diner or bar. We were stared at
from every corner of the still room with little discretion. Mouths hung open, cups remained
at half mast, and a few titters and whispers could be heard. It was annoying and humiliat-
ing.
Finally the store owner stood up, coming over to take refuge behind the counter. In a mech-
anical voice, she asked if she could help us. Hesitantly we asked for coffee, stung by the
rudeness, and sat down stiffly. The staring continued, and I looked defiantly back at them.
Then it dawned on me that they were staring at Susanne, and I couldn't help staring at her
myself. Her very curly, blonde hair shone with a healthy luster in the morning sunlight. Her
green eyes were merry and kind in her oval young face, and her scantily clad body was
admittedly breathtaking. They were staring open-mouthed at her, I realized. I smiled back
at them, and the tension evaporated from me.
“They obviously adore you,” I said, smiling proudly at her. “They don't see pretty girls like
you in here every day!”
“Oh nonsense, tourists are flooding in here all the time!” she remarked, enjoying the com-
pliment.
I did a sheep imitation quietly, and she laughed and playfully slapped my hand, shaking her
head. The buzzing of the room continued again as our coffee arrived.
We wandered around Molokai for a couple of hours, enjoying the sunshine and delicious
breeze that cooled and delighted us. Throwing out a thumb, we (easily, thanks to Susanne)
hitched a ride to the northern part of the island and saw the breathtaking green cliffs as they
dropped down far below to the foaming white waves, tiny at their base. Albatross and oth-
er sea birds wheeled effortlessly about on thermal currents rising from the spacious, vivid,
blue ocean. The whole glorious scene had a distinctly varnished look, and it was a long
time before we could move on. “God, that's beautiful,” murmured Susanne. “I am so glad
we came, aren't you? I have heard this island is the center of the Hawaiian spirituality. I
can see why.”
