as 2018 draws to a close on December 31, 2018: Reds, Rocks, and Making Nishime

Wow.  What a time weʻve had.  Though in the minds of those not directly affected, life has likely more or less resumed as normal, for those of us up here in Keaʻau ma uka and those in Puna ma kai, life is different.  You know those contraction expansion noises iron roofs make as they cool and heat?  My roof sounds different these days, methinks because the house was shifted and tweaked during The Three Months of shaking.  Not an unreasonable idea.  And odd noises tend to startle...earthquake???  The aftereffects will continue till they donʻt...

And Hawaiʻi Volcanoes is partially closed because of djt.  At first one could drive and visit areas between the Entrance Station and Kīlauea Military Camp.  Not a lot of space in which to pack vehicles during the busiest week of the year.  People were parking all over, making a muddy mess of sodden shoulders.  Yesterday the road as far as Devastation Trail parking lot was opened (Chain of Craters remains closed), and so we walked to Keanakākoʻi in the rain this morning.  Quiet, mistyrains, and a pair of nēnē, skittishly alarmed at our presence, called and flew away just over the shrubland.  

And as kuʻuhoa hk remarked last week about the unexpected flash of color of red aerial roots of ʻōhiʻa in Kona ʻAkau, here too we appreciate the same.  The photo is junkly unfocused, but perhaps youʻll get the idea.

ʻŌhiʻa, if their root systems are damaged, sometimes send out aerials to supplement what was lost.  This one is near the intersection of the main highway and the park entrance.  Lit by morning sun, they are a seasonal surprise.  And not all such aerial displays turn red.  Trees in the area of Devastation Trail were partially buried by cinder during the 1959 eruption of Kīlauea Iki, and many of them have thrown out similar bunches of aerial roots, though I donʻt recall seeing them as red as this.

Speaking of red...The Post Office building in Pāhoa, built in 1969, has a fine example of cut pāhoehoe stonework.  Several buildings, especially in Hilo, when constructed in the 1960ʻs were faced with quarried slabs of pāhoehoe, but this is my favorite.  

Graffiti saddens, but the work is still spectacular.  Reds, oranges, yellows result from thermal oxidation caused by prolonged heating of minerals, mostly iron, in the lava.  All the colors of fountaining pele.

And not the smoothest of segues...

Gramma Rapozo was from Paʻauhau (or Pahau as we said it in those days).  She had lady friends of many different ethnicities in the plantation camp.  And she learned to cook the best foods.  A platter of cone (inari) sushi for meatless Good Friday dinner, meat jun, and my favorite, nishime.  Nishime is a Japanese vegetable stew, sometimes with chicken and/or pork, frequently served on New Years.  Iʻm sure that there are customary reasons why, but I make and eat it because you supposed to.  Gramma didnʻt really teach me how.  I suppose I was in the kitchen when she was prepping and cooking, and over the years I absorbed the "How to" part.  Main thing itʻs ʻono and friends are grateful for the sharing. 

Took couple hours (only get one hand, you know...).  Carrot, chicken, ginger, kombu, string beans, bamboo shoots, aburage, shiitake, button mushrooms (Stems and Pieces), hasu, konnyaku, araimo, gobo.  Add shoyu, sugar, and salt to taste.

At first when you start cooking, it kinda smells like dirt.  Very earthy.  Maybe because of all the root vegetables.  But give it awhile and it all comes together.

And everybodyʻs one is a little different, which is as it should be.  Put in the icebox, let flavors meld, and a day or two later...Enjoy.

And back to our ao lewa, the cloud floating above Kaluapele.  Cannot help.  This is a new favorite thing, this shot courtesy of friend KM.  Maunaloa clear, the dark diagonal of the 1880 flow on its right flank, that sliver of pale green Kapāpala Ranch pasture, and the newly exposed, endlessly fascinating wall of her lua.  Exposed dikes, thin layers, thick layers, grey and dark layers, reddish layers, openings of lava tubes, detached slabs that never fell all the way down...mesmerizing amazingness.

Previously I shared a photo of a breadcrust bomb.  Hereʻs a better one of the specimen that exploded out of the lua in 1790:

Dense interior, broken crusty exterior...Just a rock, but ohhhh the stories it can tell us, if we 

be outside...pay attention     noho i waho...a maliu

Who knew that 2018 wouldʻve turned out the way it did?  Iʻm happy that I survived relatively unscathed.  I pray for those facing challenges in the aftermath of the work of Pelehonuamea and her family.  Iʻm grateful for your many positive comments and my good fortune to have been able to share some of my observations with all of you.  I trust that itʻs all been worth it.

Till next year, as always, with aloha,

BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com