If you ever ask a person from the islands where they are from, they’ll tell you “I’m from Hawaii.” Not “I’m from America.” I heard this phrase constantly when I started class at my international university, when the students older than me from Hawaii answered the question, “Where are you from?”

And I did the same. See, when you are from Hawaii, you’re not from America. You’re from Hawaii. To me, my hometown was where I was from; my family never left the culture of Hawaii behind when we moved from one place to another. With a father born and raised in the islands, our family couldn’t help it. If your home was in the islands, the islands never leave you.

I moved from the islands when I was eight for personal reasons. I was devastated. Moving was never so hard as it was that first time, leaving the islands for Tennessee, a place that forever felt like a temporary home. 

The Aloha in the islands was irreplaceable. No matter where you’re from, even if your area is known for hospitality, I’ll bet you money it won’t be the same as the sense of Aloha and hospitality you get from the islands. Tennessee could never replace the sense of loss we received from leaving Hawaii. 

I didn’t return until I was 20.

Shortly after my 20th birthday, my mom called me and told me that we were going to meet in Kauai during my Spring Break. Our family is from Maui, but, again, we couldn’t go back there at the time for personal reasons.

I was beyond excited. I told all my close friends about it, and they were so happy for me. They knew I was dying to go back.I anticipated the moment of my return for months, imagining myself bursting into tears upon touching down on my home soil.

I’m much more emotional in my mind than I am on the outside, honestly speaking.

When I did board the plane, and touch down, I surprised myself by feeling happy, but having this nagging feeling that this place was not “home”. It wasn’t the same island I left, so the feeling of returning home wasn’t there. Although the feeling of “Homeland” was there, it wasn’t what I thought it would be.

On the plane to Kauai, I had met a couple from Maui, and we “talked story”, as we say in Hawaii.

I was reminded of the Aunty/Uncle culture we had in Hawaii, where, if you are from the islands, you are family, no matter what. And I realized that the Aloha of the islands is so unique. In almost every store or restaurant we went into, the outpouring of love and kindness we received was almost overwhelming. Although they do have this sort of culture in some places of Asia, it is only in Hawaii that I feel such warmth from the people around us.  

After going to the beach everyday, and spending time with my family and my aunty, I felt as though my soul was being healed. Being so removed from the chaos of my everyday adult life, to be treated as an equal by adults I respect, I felt as though my life that had seemed so off kilter, was now re-centered. Although there was no huge intervention, no massive event, it was like the ocean waves and trade winds were pushing all the unnecessary worries in my life out, and all the peace and Aloha in. The wounds and fears that were there before felt irrelevant and small. 

For example, watching my little brother get excited over receiving an ukulele, in his favorite colour: yellow. Or my older brother getting tipsy on our snorkeling trip and becoming excited at every spotting of a whale or dolphin. Or my sisters slowly but surely learning how to respect and play with the ocean. Or, laughing hysterically with my mom, dad, and aunty over some ridiculous joke that perfectly fit with my sense of humor. All these things, and more, while being surrounded by the sights, smells, and tastes of my childhood, settled a peace into me.

Yes, these islands will always be my homeland. Even if you move far away from where you thought you belonged, that place is still a part of who you are. It doesn’t leave you, even when it seems like an impossible distance. It’s still there, and will always be there, no matter how much you both change. 

I’ve moved back to Maui, and the centering that I had only been able to feel for a couple days in 2018 (when I first wrote this article on my previous blog), I now get to experience everyday. The beauty of this island always astounds me, I can’t help but crane my neck just to catch a glimpse of the ocean as I drive throughout Maui. I’m just so amazed to be home. Although I didn’t cry (again) when arriving home, I feel full. No, my life is not always peaceful or smooth-sailing (especially since the past couple of years have been, ah, trying), but I’ll keep looking for the positives in my life.

At least I’m back here. At least I’m home.