#ThursdayDoors: Aloha

I’ve just returned from almost a month in Hawaii.  I didn’t intend to stay that long but my grandson was (as they say) on “Hawaiian time.” Finally on March 21st his chubby little cheeks emerged, followed by an equally chubby little body and thank goodness, he was healthy. So I waited until my grandmotherly advice caused my son-in-law’s face to twitch uncontrollably and then left on the next available red-eye.

In Hawaii many of the hotels, government buildings, and even hospitals have open air reception areas and atriums. They have no front doors.  Evidently the craze currently circling the planet thanks to Norm Frampton and the #ThursdayDoors peep-and-tellers hasn’t yet reached the Hawaiian Islands!

Above is the entry to the Hawaiian state capitol.  If you walk through these columns the legislative chambers are to the right and the government offices to the left.  If you look up through the sky light in the atrium, this is what you’ll see:

In front of the capitol is a statue of Father Damien, the patron saint of the Hawaiian Islands.

Religion has played a controversial role in paradise.  Before the missionaries arrived, the islands were ruled by warrior kings who often had several wives (some of them sisters) and maintained order via ancient superstitions and myths. The missionaries brought changes that benefitted the poor but they also brought sickness and doors.

Behind the state capitol is Iolani Palace.This palace was built around 1882 under the direction of King Kalakaua who felt he needed digs worthy of his lofty position.  At that time, many of Hawaiian’s royals were anxious to be accepted by their European counterparts thus Kalakaua’s palace could easily be at home in London or Paris.  Except for the banyan and palm trees on the front lawn, of course.

Ironically Iolani Palace would serve as a prison for the last member of the royal family to have any political power, Queen Lili’oukalani. She was no match for power hungry American businessmen who had the implicit support of the US government.

The doors to Iolani Palace were almost impossible to photograph from the bottom of the staircase on a hot day, but they seem like sad doors to me.

Happily we were also in Honolulu during the festival of Prince Kuhio, the last royal member of Congress and the founder of many civic organizations dedicated to preserving Hawaiian Culture.

More pictures to come. Aloha!

Hombre Infame, Infeliz…Tu Eres La Causa De Mis Angustias

I’m in Hawaii for a few weeks with limited internet access Please enjoy this reblog from Duke Miller on the TinHatsblog

tin hats

Our door was green and the cats hung out just inside the garden trying to kill movement.   The woman bent over to pet one and the Calico scratched her.  Specks of blood hit the rocks.  The cat was Einstein and the  victim was Trudy.  Einstein was the first out of the box looking for food and water.  Six sisters and brothers got scattered around town, but that’s the way of cats: here and there, putting up self-identity struggles with humans who don’t share the same vision.

Across town a second woman, a Mexican woman, was hiding from a house deal with Trudy.  The Mexican had sold too cheaply or so said a few jealous relatives who kept their nails long and red.  That might have passed, but then the real sadness set in when the old woman on the corner, who peeled oranges with one of those hand-cranked blade…

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