I’m referring to the
Even on holiday I visit museums. In
Now, don’t get me wrong. The Bishop is not the newest, or the oldest, shiniest or quirkiest museum you’ll ever see. I loved it despite that. For some reason it was just right. I didn’t see everything the place had to offer either, but I still loved it. It was one of those thoroughly pleasant experiences where the parts of the museum I experienced were exactly the parts I wanted to see. Plus the whole place is constantly chased by these beautifully scented little trade winds, so the smell of plumeria follows you all around. It just made me happy.
We went to see a show in their Planetarium. The seats were, to be blunt, vile. I still had fun. The show was about
The Hawaiian Hall was closed for renovation, to my great disappointment. But I’d seen one of Kamehameha’s feather capes at the
The Polynesian Hall was carpeted in 1970s green shag that sort of smelled like the 1970s – for this reason it was my least favorite part of my visit, but I still enjoyed it. There were artifacts from
The song and dance demonstration outside was lovely. The educator leading the show was naturally a good singer, but better than that, he was adept at getting us to respond. Anyone who has tried to encourage a crowd of strangers in front of you to answer questions without getting all embarrassed would have been impressed with this man. He got us to practice saying tricky Hawaiian words (slightly trickier than ‘hula’ but you get the idea). He also got us all to stand up and dance. There we were, dancing a story about a lighthouse and giving love to the people – me, my mom, and about 30 other tourists of all ages and origins. My favorite was the chubby pink baby in the stroller who was THIS CLOSE to falling asleep, but stayed awake so she could watch this strange group activity. She never blinked or smiled. She seemed to think we were all crazy. But it didn’t bother her and she dropped right off to sleep after the last ‘Aloha’ and ‘mahalo’.
The Library at the Bishop houses an impressive collection of Polynesian materials. I’m sure scholars all over the world use it happily and academically. The reason I love it, and will do so forever and always, is because when I went to the library to describe a book I’d read as a child but couldn’t remember the name of, they helped me find it. The Last Queen by Hazel Wilson is (unsurprisingly) about the last queen of
Fridge Update: I am cautiously overjoyed. It appears to be working. I eat my words (and, finally, chilled food again): the Fridge Repairman must have been right. I feel like I can’t push it, though. I have to be very careful with my recovering fridge. Can’t ask it to do too much at once. But I hope it will soon be at its full capacity again. Just in time for another heat wave. Thank heaven for frozen jammies.