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Uncle Baldy & Aunt Sugar
A Hawaiian traveler finds kindred spirits in New Zealand
"Baldy," the Maori elder and guide our group met up with for our waka (Maori canoe) tour on the Whanganui River and overnight stay on the Koriniti Marae, might have been a scary guy to run into in a dark alley. But despite his towering six-foot-plus Polynesian warrior frame and wild, thick mane of jet-black curls, I noticed he had very gentle honey-brown eyes. Still, the ironically named "Baldy" (he has a bald brother nicknamed "Hairy") was stoic. He walked with a very stiff spine and showed little emotion, but after a day or two, he warmed up to me and I earned the privilege of calling him "Uncle."
I stood out among the group of Americans, Belgians, Catalonians, and Canadians. Much like a special radar gay people have for sniffing out other members of their tribe, Baldy suspected I was Polynesian.
"We are taking bets," the obnoxious Englishman who also was one of our guides said to me in front of Baldy. "Where are you from?"
Baldy stiffened. I decided to play along.
"Well, where did you think I was from?" I shot back.
"Oh, I'm guessing Asian?" the dorky bastard replied.
"Asian isn't a place, SIR." I said "sir" to emphasize what a dinosaur I thought he was. I paused. "Actually, my mother is Japanese — "
"I knew it!" he said gleefully.
" — American," I continued. "She grew up in Hawaii. And my father is kanaka maoli, a blood Hawaiian."
The English fool was perplexed, but Baldy perked up and looked right at me for the first time.
Throughout the day, I ignored the Pom (Kiwi slang for the English), and asked Baldy questions about the Whanganui river, "the Rhine of New Zealand," and the longest navigable river in the country.
I stood out among the group of Americans, Belgians, Catalonians, and Canadians. Much like a special radar gay people have for sniffing out other members of their tribe, Baldy suspected I was Polynesian.
"We are taking bets," the obnoxious Englishman who also was one of our guides said to me in front of Baldy. "Where are you from?"
Baldy stiffened. I decided to play along.
"Well, where did you think I was from?" I shot back.
"Oh, I'm guessing Asian?" the dorky bastard replied.
"Asian isn't a place, SIR." I said "sir" to emphasize what a dinosaur I thought he was. I paused. "Actually, my mother is Japanese — "
"I knew it!" he said gleefully.
" — American," I continued. "She grew up in Hawaii. And my father is kanaka maoli, a blood Hawaiian."
The English fool was perplexed, but Baldy perked up and looked right at me for the first time.
Throughout the day, I ignored the Pom (Kiwi slang for the English), and asked Baldy questions about the Whanganui river, "the Rhine of New Zealand," and the longest navigable river in the country.
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