A jungle out there

It’s day three and each day teaches me more and more. Each day I meet some of the most amazing people. Today I met Marga. After spending the morning harvesting a 30 gallon bucket full of fragrant basil, Marianna invited me to go “swimming” with her and her friend Marga. Now when I someone invites me swimming I instantly think of a pool. Swimming in Hawaii, or according to Marianna, takes place in a geothermally heated pond that the ocean feeds into.

Around 2:30pm, we left to go pick up Marga. We drive down Mango Farm Rd passing hitchhikers who we say Aloha to. Then further down the road, a cute little family taking an afternoon walk under the giant mango trees. Mom and two toddlers, all have dreads. We say Aloha to them as well. Everyone says Aloha to everyone around here. Farther down the road we see Marga, patiently waiting for us, beach towel in hand. Being near-sighted and not having my contacts in or glasses on, from the distance Marga looks like a 22 year old. About 5’2”, 90 lbs, bright eyed, alert, aware and ready to party. Marga is a 65 year old petite woman who was undoubtedly beautiful in her day.

We head to the water, and stop down the road to pick up the hitch hikers who we passed earlier. Hitchhiking is a perfectly acceptable form of transportation on the island, at least on this part of the island where 90% of the residents are hippies, young and old. We drop them off at the beach to watch a surf contest, then head to our spot, the warm pond. The pond is literally like a warm bath, except there are tiny fish that nip at you if you stand in one place too long. I told myself, while in Hawaii, I would get over my inability to swim and today I am proud to say that I swam. Fully swam. Even put my face in the water. I haven’t mastered underwater swimming yet, that’s phase two. But I did swim, and didn’t freak out when my feet realized they had nothing to stand on. I stayed calm and feverishly paddled my way a few feet ahead until I was able to touch ground again. And may I just add, surfers have some of the best bodies. I think my hot sports body attraction has switched from soccer players to surfers. Yum.

We left the warm pond and headed to Marga’s house. Marga lives in the jungle. True jungle living style. Her house has no walls, just a tarp roof and bamboo pillars all around. She lives on an acre of colorful, fruitful, mosquito infested land. But the mosquito’s don’t find her, or any of the locals, attractive. Me, on the other hand, I am like crème brulee. They can’t get enough of me. I have counted 14 mosquito bites so far, on one leg, below the knee. I stopped there. My arms, my stomach, my feet, my back. The only place they haven’t bit me yet is my chest…probably because that territory is claimed since I already have two adjacent mosquito bites there.

We walked around her property picking exotic fruit from the trees, cutting it open and eating it. Figs, jack fruit, lemons, mangos, and so many other fruits I cannot remember and/or pronounce. Fascinating is the only word I can use to describe this lifestyle. Minimal and purely self sufficient, water is collected from rainfall then purified and electricity is generated from solar power. We took our bucket of fruit back to her main hut, where we sat in her dining area around the table. I was given the honor of cutting open and distributing our afternoon snack. Beneath the thin skin was lime custard. Seriously! A fruit with sweet lime pudding inside. Who thinks of these things? It was amazing.

After the swarm of mosquito’s noticeably congregated around me, Marga suggested we move our conversation to her bedroom, which is enclosed by netting. The three of us sat in her room and talked. I learned that Marga is originally from Oregon and has lived on her land for ten years, which she inherited from a friend. She loves scrabble. I also learned that she had a son who she gave up for adoption when she was 20, and the woman who adopted him sends Marga thank you cards on Mother’s Day to express her gratitude.

I feel so privileged to converse with people like Marga. People who can teach you things, who you can learn from. People who have stories to tell and events to recall. People who can share personal information without unloading their emotional instability onto you. People who have more to talk about besides other people. People who don't hold rigid views and are nonjudgemental. People who have created a life that provides them happiness.