Prime Time at the PCC

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No worries, “PCC” has nothing to do with being politically correct. Sharon was quite intrigued later today when she learned that in the Samoan culture, men do all the cooking; but, then she learned that that was because the men don’t want to let the women anywhere near the fire. We woke to a morning where the light and outside sounds began to filter into our room. I had some oatmeal and Sharon raison bran for breakfast. The timeshare, with kitchenette is nice, and this room is particularly nice. From our balcony I could see no signs of the building cranes that dotted the Waikiki area in the late 1970’s, when I first visited Hawaii. Maybe forty years is a better measure of time to refer to as “Back in the Day.” Instead, I see the results of those building cranes in the many high rises lining both sides of the canal that we overlook. Below I see a single man scull glide be, seemingly effortlessly along the canal. Sharon said her rosary on the balcony, while I started writing yesterday’s blog.

The maintenance guy came by about 10AM to fix our AC unit. The day before another service guy came by to reset the router. If you think that Sharon is not a happy camper when she’s hungry, you should see her after a long flight with delays when she gets to the room and the internet doesn’t work. She agrees though, that someone came up to fix the internet in under five minutes. Each room has its own router and they apparently need to be reset regulary. It was the router guy in fact who told us the AC was too noisy. I guess I was just too tired to notice and Sharon was more concerned about the internet. He put in the work order, and the guy showed up and now we have a quiet AC unit!

I took a photo of the car claim ticket, as recommended by the valet, and used that when asking for the car to drive out to the Polynesian Cultural Center. On the way, we notice several signs protesting proposed building development in the region, such as “New City, What a Pity”. One sign was particularly poignant: “Aloha! It’s a Way of Life!” We arrived around 2PM, after an hour plus drive with delays for a one-lane closure heading to the North Shore. We checked in at the ticketing center and exchanged our online vouchers for real tickets and stickers. The PCC was founded by the Church of Latter Day Saints and students from Polynesia come here to work in exchange for tuition, lodging and food at the BYU-West campus on Oahu. We stopped in the Pounder’s Restaurant by the entrance to the PCC to have lunch. I had the spicy shrimp, with a mashed potato-like side made from bread fruit and taro. Sharon had her standby plain hamburger and fries. I ordered the POG drink, as on the plane, evidently a popular island beverage of passion fruit, orange and guava juice. The “Ambassador Package” that Sharon purchased online included a guided tour. The escorted us to a tour in progress, turning us over to our tour guide for the rest of the day. The advantage of having a guide is that they get you from one event to the next in a very efficient manner and you have a better understanding of what you are seeing. The first exhibition we saw was “The Parade of the Canoes”. We found a spot to sit in the shade on the stone stadium seating (several rows of large tiered stones). Sharon and I had to walk around to where the “Old Fart” steps were so that we could get down to a row with available seating, and managed to find something with welcome shade. Sharon handed me the camera, and I knew it was my turn to take pictures. Her neck is still bothering her from the flight. Evidently, I wasn’t taking enough pictures because she kept poking me in the ribs and pointing out something that I’d missed. Unfortunately, I missed the guy guiding one of the canoes get precariously off-balanced and wind up in the water. I’m sure this happens every show, and it would have made a great picture. When the Tahiti canoe came by, I’m furiously snapping pictures. You know how you get that strange feeling that someone is watching you, the hair kind of stand up on the back of your neck. Well I got one of those moments, and in the corner of my eye I see that “So now you can’t take enough picture looks” from Sharon, as the canoe with six swiveling hipped Tahitian dancers are strutting their stuff.

At another outdoor show the speaker was telling of different parts of their culture, including the importance of coconuts. He showed how easily they are husked with a sharp wooden stick, removing easily to outer husk with several skilled movements. It then takes one precise strike, with a rock (or your head) between the eyes, and the coconut itself will split into two perfect halves. He invited a young boy up on the stage to drink the coconut water from one half; while, he consumed the other. The boy obliged and did drink every last drop with a big smile on his face. The boy didn’t want to get of the stage, but did finally get back to his parents. The removal of the coconut meat was done by scraping, and those scraps were then twisted and squeezed to make coconut milk. He had one of his tribesmen climb a nearby coconut tree, which he went up easily. With his feet against the tree, leaning his legs away at a 45-degree angle, pointing his butt away from the tree, his upper torso leaned towards the tree, wrapping his arms around the tree, interlacing his fingers. And in a coordinated motion he scooted up the tree. Once at the top the announcer noted that he’d climbed the wrong tree (it has no coconuts ready to pick). Not to worry, the announcer says, “He’s very deft, and will just jump from his tree to the next one!” There didn’t seem to be any tree close enough that this would be feasible. But, the guy in the tree did seem to be preparing to leap; but, then looked down at all of us expecting to see some incredible feat and said, “Are you CRAZY?”

The Polynesian Islands comprise a triangular area of ocean from Hawaii to New Zealand to Easter Island. The Easter Island part of the PCC is the smallest because it has no student representation to preserve the culture. When Chile claimed Easter Island they took many of the denizens as slaves and the culture was largely lost. At another demonstration, we learned about the hand and arm movements that comprise Polynesian dancing, the flat clapping, cupped clapping and swaying arm movements from side to side popularized in the familiar hula dance. We left the tour early to make it to the Prime Dining Buffet at 5PM when it started. In fact, we needn’t have hurried, we could have arrived later and it would have been fine. Prime Dining simply meant that the buffet included prime rib (as well as one serving of crab legs, if desired). We got a table for two in the nearly empty dining area. Other diners trickled in. The prime rib I thought was a bit tough, and seemed to be cooked uniformly to a medium plus. This suited Sharon just fine and she enjoyed it. I started with the seaweed soup and a purple taro roll. I was expecting something like a miso soup with seaweed in it; but, this soup had too much of a salty sea taste to suite me, and after a few attempts to “acquire the taste” I gave up on it. The taro roll however was very good, especially with lots of butter! I enjoyed the Haupia, a coconut pudding with nutmeg, for dessert. Sharon was too full to have the chocolate cake (so you know she must have been full).

We had some time to kill before going to see “The Breath of Ha” in the Pacific Theatre. So we headed to see the Hawaiian Experience which was a movie with very comfortable seats with speakers in them. Then we headed to the market area where I captured a picture of Sharon by the bronze “Hang Loose” statue featuring a native former Kahuna and a worker in the local sugar factory where he lost his middle and ring finger in and industrial accident. He started the now stereotypical Hawaiian hand greeting which continues to grow in popularity.



We then headed into the show and were seated near the front. The backdrop of the stage was an impressive Polynesian Village and hillside (complete with small volcano). The show featured impressive dancing, telling the story of a small boy growing up listening to the stories of his grandmother, becoming a young man, then an older man, taking a wife and having a son to restart the cycle. The show culminates with an impressive array of double-ended fire torches being twirled about the stage. And oh yes, did I mention that this is Sharon’s Birthday?

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