A Different Kind Of Rich

Yelling up to Gio, "dude the garden is blowing up!"

"I know! We have so much food!"

It's late afternoon where the sun is just beginning to set behind the valley we live in. Just the top of the mountains and the cotton candy clouds are kissed by the last rays of light. Perusing the garden with Gio, we stand among all of the veggies that have been planted over the last few months. Tatsoi, romaine, arugula, daikon radish, beets, mustard, kale, chard, tomato, fennel, cilantro, taro, sweet potato, spinach, and broccoli are just a few of the varieties that have been planted in the garden. Encompassing six or so terraces, it's enough greens and veggies to feed four people comfortably plus enough to give away as a small omiyage (a gift) to friends or someone in need of fresh food. We estimate that at least eighty percent of our food comes from the garden.

Picking greens, I start laughing. Gio looks at me in confusion, "what's up?"

"Dude, we are so rich!"

Gio smiles, "I know, we are so rich."

It's an idea that we've been playing around with the last few days. We don't own fancy things, most of our appliances are held together with duct tape, and the chairs we sit in are releasing their stuffing like a well loved teddy bear. To many, we probably look like bridge trolls since we essentially live underneath someones deck.

However, it would be hard to put a price on the veggies and fruits that we grow. What's the price of a thirty pound guacamole of the freshest avocados worth? Especially when you have to finish it because you have to make another thirty pound guacamole before the avocados go bad. What's five gallons of tangelo (a tangerine and orange hybrid) juice worth, and what's a five gallon bucket stuffed with the freshest greens worth for a salad?

Many might disregard it for the latest fashion but I think it would be hard to put a price on it. Maybe being rich should be something more then fancy dinners and hotels, but more of the simple things that make you and others feel good. It's a different kind of rich.

The makings of tangelo juice

Pure tangerine juice

Sacred Hawaiian taro

Tatsoi

Prepping banana hands

The latest fruit plunder

We call ourselves vegan hunters

Sometimes you get lucky with the sunrises

The Price Of Paradise

Bali Hai

Like clock work, the first hint of sun rays light up our side of the valley letting us know that working in the yard will soon end before it gets too hot. Looking South and up the valley, the mountain ridges stand like the head of a hand held lemon juicer. The absence of light casts shadows in the valleys while the dense green jungle along the ridges are exposed by the sun's light. Easily standing a hundred feet tall in the middle of the valley, the invasive Albizia trees to the East take the shape of Bonsai tree silhouettes.

Mountain glow

Up above on the road, a pack of wild boars squeal above the exhaust sound of a rusted, lifted Toyota Tacoma that probably wouldn't pass smog specifications. After a brief silence, once again the roosters begin to orchestrate their calls up and down the valley breaking the serenity of the moment.

It's been about a month since I've been back on Kauai. Adjusting back into island life has been fairly straight forward since I've spent enough time here in the past. However, sometimes I can't help but laugh at the harshness of living in one of the most "local" places in Kauai. Depending on how one looks at it, it can either be seen as comedic, or a sad, dark environment.

Facebook, Apple, and startup millionaires build their massive vacation homes that are built with the finest, most rare hard woods. However, these homes are only used a few weekends out of the year. This is juxtaposed next door with a small island green Hawaiian shack that is in shambles and is more fit for a shanti town. In many cases the Hawaiian family that lives there will have to leave because the property is worth more than the house.

The once sacred taro fields and farm land that the Hawaiians families have cultivated for hundreds of years is worth millions of dollars compared to the thousands of dollars that is being grossed from the produce it provides. Families out of necessity or thirst for money are now selling this land to commercial developers. This is only the beginning for a people who are culturally displaced in a first world country but who's souls are tied to the stories that their Aunties and Uncles tell them of a life that is long gone. These people are now seeking what they have lost and don't even knowing what it is they are searching for.

Theft is prevalent, white haole kids are still harassed in schools, starved hunting dogs howl in small cages waiting for what could be their last boar hunt before being mauled to death, and hard drugs such as ice is common and can be seen by the zombies that roam rural areas. In many ways, status is won by skin tone, amount of time that you have resided on the islands, who you hang out with, and how big your truck is.

Last year, a couple friends and I were a part of a conversation with some Hawaiians at a picnic who were talking story about being local. One Hawaiian in his dark, raspy voice summed it up by saying, "when you've been he-yah long e-nuff, then you'll know." Upon him saying that, the vibe in the air was so heavy that you could almost touch it. I couldn't handle for long and left the guacamole we made at the table for them and came back later for it.

Yet, these things are really only seen with keen observation and having spent enough time living in the area. Many tourists that visit will never see this during their time here. Instead they will be driving through paradise in their red convertible, holding their GoPro out the window, smiling as their hair is blowing in the wind, and completely oblivious to the line of traffic stacking up behind them.

Like the Hawaiian said, "when you've been here long enough, then you'll know."

Fresh Swell

Hanakapiai falls

Free Fallin'

Tranquil mornings

Veggie starts

Tools of the trade

Tangelo

Watermelon radish

Abstract wave motion

Slipping Back Into Island Life

Feeling around blindly for my Iphone, I snatch it off the windowsill to shut off the alarm. It's currently 6am and it's still pitch black outside. I do my best to wrap myself back into my blankets as I mentally prepare to get up to watch the sunrise.

 A year later, I'm back on Kauai with upgraded sleeping quarters. Instead of the kitchen counter, I now sleep in an 8ft by 7ft shack which is just big enough for a twin bed and a few belongings. It's more of a screened in box to keep out the mosquitos with a roof above it. Due to the open air plan of my shack, the cool valley winds blow through the screens causing the curtains to dance and my exposed skin to develop goosebumps.

Shelf space

Lying back down, the wind rustles the jungle leaves around me like the applause of a standing ovation to a sold out theatre play. All around me the wild roosters continuously can be heard up and down the valley as they call out to each other as if they were neighbors bickering to one another from across the street.

Finding little motivation to get back out of bed, I justify that the sunrise isn't going to be very good and I give up and succumb to the idea of more sleep.

Lazy afternoon

Jack Johnson banana pancake kind of morning

Muddy commutes

Just another tequila sunrise

Leaving California Again

Cotton Candy skies - last California sunrise

Rolling over on the bouncy air mattress, I shut off the 2am alarm on my phone. However, I've already been awake for a while anticipating the alarm's arrival. Getting up, I stuff my sleeping bag into the stuff sack and shove it as well as a few other belongings into my backpack.

Chet and Karen, my friends that I traveled with through Central America have been kind enough to let me stay at their house before I leave for my next trip. They are also kind enough to wake up and drive me to the airport shuttle. Opening their bedroom door, they walk out like a pair of zombies as they adjust from being in REM to being awake. As they pull on their coats and boots, they silently grab one of my bags and carry it down the stairs to their car. This reminds me of the many early starts to catch buses from one city to the next in Central America.

Arriving at what we think is the bus stop, we hop out of the car and look around. Underneath a dark overpass with little lighting, it doesn't look like much of a bus stop. Karen wandering down the street a little ways shouts out, "I found the sign for the bus!" Chet smiles at me and says, "We have to remember she can always find the bus stop."

Unloading my bags from the car, I stand on the sidewalk with pretty much everything I think I'll need for the next year. Saying our goodbyes for a while, my two friends drive off into the night. Standing alone on the sidewalk, I look at my watch and see that there is another half an hour until the bus arrives. Waiting patiently, the only things that would pierce the silence as I stood there, is the occasional hum of tires on the freeway above me and a man walking and yelling into the night.

Peaceful easy feeling

A while later, loading onto the bus I shuffle into a seat and wait for the ticket agent. Watching her collect money, she eventually arrives at my seat and then asks if I'm a student. Debating whether to be honest or not, I decide being honest is better and tell her that I'm a recent student. Smiling she responds by giving me the student discount. I thank her in return and fall asleep for a couple hours.

Startled awake by the bus driver announcing our arrival to the airport, the bus driver stops at the loading zone. With the hiss of the hydraulic door opening, myself and the other passengers shuffle out of the bus like penguins as we are excited to get a little closer to our destination. I laugh to myself knowing that we are all rushing to only sit at the plane terminal and eventually sit for however long on a cramped plane. "Hurry up and wait," I tell myself.

Grabbing my bags, I walk across the street and find a bagging agent where I successfully get my overstuffed bag through without any additional fees. I also skate through the TSA checkpoint unscathed and aimlessly wander my way through the corridors until I find my terminal.

Taking a seat by the window, I strategically pull my bulkiest clothes out of my backpack knowing that it won't pass the airplane gate checkpoint otherwise. Pulling a flannel and a few jackets on, I look outfitted for a snowstorm. I look out of place at Gate 27 of the Oakland airport and definitely out of place in the sea of Hawaiian shirts, shorts, and socks with sandals. Analyzing my backpack after the removal of some bulky clothes, I feel satisfied with it contents and weight for the overhead storage.

A few minutes later, an airline representative announces over the intercom that they will be walking around looking for oversized bags and will charge extra for them. Silently I curse to myself knowing that my bag is border line. Keeping an eye on the representative, she meanders through the rows of seats but seems to have a homing missile on me. I look away and try to stay casual by blending in with the other men in Hawaiian shirts who look like they are already on vacation 3,000 miles away from their destination.

Failing, she approaches me with a handful of baggage tags in her hand.

"Have you flown with that bag as a carry on bag before? It looks way too big."

Looking around, I eye the other patron's carry on bags carefully seeing abnormally large bags among them. I look back up at her and respond slowly, "yeah... I've flown a lot with this as my carry on bag." Pausing for a moment I think and respond again, "I've used this bag as a carry on bag fourteen times as well as internationally and have never had a problem."

"Well, it looks way too big, if you can't make it smaller, I'm going to have to charge you."

Unbuckling the backpack, I pull out my down sleeping bag and stuff it into my little bag now making that bag too big to fit under the seat in front of me. Buckling my backpack back up, I look at her. Seemingly satisfied she walks off. With her eyes adverted, I open my backpacks and reorganize it to how it was previously.

The man in the Hawaiian shirt and shorts next to me laughs and says, "did you just put everything she had you take out back into the same bag? It's funny she singled you out because look at all of the other crap people are bringing." Laughing, I confirm what he just asked me.

With my boarding number being called, I shuffle onto the plane with the rest of the penguins and find my seat. I successfully put my bag into the over head compartment and take a seat. With the seemingly full plane, I notice there is one empty row next to me. Flagging down a flight attendant I ask if I can sit there. With the attendant's approval, I shuffle myself into the next row and hear several people around me groan with disapproval. One even makes eye contact with me and tells me how lucky I am. I nod in approval and stretch out across the row to fall asleep. I'm on island time now.

Afternoon strolls

Speed racers

California perfection

Tips For Packing For An Extensive Backpacking Trip Abroad

Dusty roads and questionable transportation in Nicaragua

A little over a year ago, I left on my first extensive trip to Hawaii and Central America - Mexico, Panama, Costa Rica and Nicaragua. Even though I had traveled quite a bit before, I've never had to plan and pack for a trip like this one. On previous trips, I had the luxury of a car and the ability to do day trips with less gear in between. I had an idea about how to start packing due to my experience backpacking and camping in the mountains, but I was still left with the question what do I pack for this trip?

I knew that I really wanted to limit my gear to only carry on items on the plane (one over head and one under the seat). I didn't want to pay for a check on bag, and I wanted to carry only what I thought was necessary. After all I wasn't lugging gear just through an airport to a destination. I walked with my backpack through cities, from bus to taxi, from taxi to boat, boat to hostel and everywhere in between. It was much easier to have less stuff.

People watching in Oaxaca Mexico

The mountains of Panama - just like California

To give an example, I remember standing at the border between Costa Rica and Panama in the pouring rain and had to help these two girls out of a shuttle. Being tall, the driver could hand me luggage off the roof rack to hand out belongings. The driver hands me two huge backpacks full of gear and then two really heavy roller bags with gear. The two girls come and grab their stuff and proceed to drag their roller bags through muddy puddles for a couple hours as we made the border crossing. With that being said, I carried a 36 liter backpack (it fits in the overhead compartment if not overstuffed) and a smaller backpack.

Precarious packing in Panama

Everything I carried on my trip through Central America

When packing for a trip, I found that it was incredibly important to pack things that are multi use. For example I like to carry a sarong because it works as a towel, a shirt, shade cover, and many more things. Plus it's incredibly light and takes up hardly any space. This also means that you need to pack efficiently. How much clothes do you really need to bring for the tropics? Do you need several pairs of pants? Does it get cold? Yes, the mountains in Costa Rica and Panama get cold.

My Sarong

Place things in a way that don't take up much space. This also means thinking ahead in terms of what gear goes where in your pack. For example in Panama you might not want your rain jacket at the bottom of your bag for when a rain squall comes through.

Some important items that are incredibly valuable when traveling are a first aid kit that has neosporin, ibuprofen, bandaids, and even a round of antibiotics. As for the antibiotics, I don't recommend taking them unless absolutely necessary. However, I ended up having to take them in Mexico when I got salmonella due to an outbreak in the town. With that being said I'm glad I had them because many people had to go to the hospital.

Some other things that are I found to be important is tuna cord or some other heavy duty cord for when someone needs extra luggage tie downs. It also comes in handy for a clothesline, fixing broken backpack straps (zip ties work too), and countless other things (remember multi use). A couple trash bags are key as well. Trash bags work as a rainfly for your backpacks, cutting some holes in one turns it into a rain jacket, and once in a blue moon it's nice to have the ability to carry more stuff.

Useful things - Tie downs, zip ties, string (tuna cord), first aid kit, headlamp, trash bags

With that being said, I hope this helps to answer some important questions about what to pack when traveling for an extensive amount of time. Of course, every destination is going to be different. I wouldn't pack the same for Nepal or New Zealand as I did for Central America. But packing is part of the fun of traveling and I look forward to getting better at it in the years to come. As always feel free to ask any questions.

Packing list

Not following my advice for this next trip to Kauai and New Zealand.
Suddenly my bags in the back don't seem very big...

Packed for multi seasons, backpacking, surfing, and camping. I'll be buying a car to travel through New Zealand.