Real World had nothing on us.
Reflect with me again to the summer of '95, I'm on Oahu in St Louis Heights, living with 10 other people in a ramshackle luxury home. Btw, in case I didn't mention it, once there I calculated that I could work and stay for 4 months, or not work and stay for 3 before the money ran out. I decided to relax. Here are the bios of my roomies and a few short anecdotes:
Mrs H (Henderson): Mrs H was in her late 60's, was a widow from Missouri, and she was an interesting old bird. Mrs. H liked me because I was a "southern boy who will pay his rent". She kept a fridge in the kitchen with a chain and padlock around it, most assuredly to keep the "others" from getting into her groceries. She left no doubt as to who she thought was in charge, and aside from offering me tripe stew one day I didn't have a lot of interaction with her.
Old Bill (Eleniki): Bill was a generous and gracious guy; smoked like a chimney and had skin you could make a saddle out of. He lived in one of the back rooms, and would fall asleep each night to the blaring sound of old b/w movies on TV that would illuminate the entire back yard. I learned a lot about the locals from Bill, and I really enjoyed knowing him while I was there. Bill was in church the Sunday morning of Dec 7, 1941 and relived those moments a few times in heartbreaking detail. Bill showed me where he used to fish as a kid down around Hanauma Bay by Koko Head He also took me around to meet various family members around Oahu where many decent backyard meals were shared. I also learned that you could buy cheap fish out the back door of the grocery store from the fish monger, though it was mostly scraps. But those scraps fried up with enough soy sauce and garlic on top of a scoop of sticky rice were pretty darn good. The salad? well, Bill's salad was a 1/4 of a head of lettuce (not chopped) with mayo and ketchup on top. Bill drank beer and water, nothing else. "those soda pop drinks will kill you".
Bill was up bright and early every day, would fetch his cups of ice (plastic cups he would fill with water and put in the freezer in the back yard overnight), load up his cooler and sometimes the Micronesian roommates (except the one with a job), and be off in his truck. Apparently like everything else in the Islands, Mrs H's other houses (up Waianae way in Makaha) were in a constant state of maintenance (or disrepair depending on your outlook). Bill and the boys would return home mid-afternoon three sheets to the wind and the stories would begin. I ventured out to "work" with them a few times and discovered it was pretty much what I expected. Sitting in the back of a pickup on a blazing hot day for a traffic filled drive up to Waianae, a few hours of drinking beer out of the cooler and moving rocks around, and then back into the truck for the crawl home in rush hour traffic through Honolulu.
The guys from Micronesia (4 in all) stayed in one room in the "annex" in the backyard. I believe their "alpha cousin" had told me once in a typical backyard bull session that he had come to Hawai'i after he had burned down his old boss' store after being fired. Not sure if he followed the others or if they followed him. Nice enough guys I guess, I ventured out with them a few times. A typical Friday night was to pile into one car, take a couple cases of cheap beer down to Ala Moana beach park, and hit on the Micronesian girls with their baby carriages. The personal property idea doesn't hold a lot of weight with these guys; at first I was a bit put off, but quickly let it go as I would see them at times down in Waikiki or coming back from "working" wearing an Auburn U t-shirt that I had apparently left on the clothesline too long. Also, I began to understand Mrs H's lock on the fridge in her kitchen. After a few disappointingn trips to the backyard fridge, I started buying sandwiches to keep in a cooler in my room.
The other roomates were just here/there. Mary (the schizophrenic Philipino "maid") was an interesting case. I'm not sure how she got there, but she swept...and swept...pretty much that's what she did. I think looking back Mrs H might have had her as a servant and was stealing her social security checks. Just hindsight.... One time Mary "got out" and I came across her at the bus stop on my way out. I followed her onto the bus as she talked about goign to visit "her friend". I'm not sure how much English she was speaking but that's what I gathered. Once we got to her "friend's" house, it turned out to be a Pizza Hut. They did have a lunch buffet so after noting the location, I made sure we got back on the bus up the hill.
So after a few more events and stories I won't get into here, it was sadly time to leave the islands. Bill had agreed to drive me to the airport in his little truck, and I was grateful. With two suitcases, and having to wear a suit & tie as a Delta "non-revenue" passenger I looked forward to the non-bus/cab ride to the airport. When I got to the car, I see that Mrs H is in the passenger seat because she "wants to see me off". Here I am in a suit, in the back of this truck, on the H-1 in the blazing sun (except for the 20 min daily rain I enjoyed in the midst of gridlock), and finally I'm at the airport headed back to Atlanta.
Sadly, Old Bill and Mrs H have both since passed away (confirmed in the Honolulu Advertiser on-line archives) and the house is now being replaced. Sad I didn’t take more pics that summer, but got a few.
For some reason I still loved this place and couldn’t wait to spend more time here. Aloha!!
