Sit down, relax, eat, eat, eat...

That is a welcome expression Hawaiians like to use. Even there, as in our culture, food has a social value, but the meal has a different look. The difference lies in "geometry". In Italy we eat all sitting around the table together (it is even considered rude to start eating when anybody is not yet ready). In Hawaii (and, I believe, generally in the States), the buffet style is more common. Everyone serve him/herself filling up his dish. It is not uncommon that not to have a table at all. Everybody eats the way he wants: standing, sitting on chairs or armchairs, allowing the events to make big or small groups for conversation.

Luau
Luau is a word in the native Hawaiian language which means more or less "party". The spirit is to meet somewhere to share the pleasure of being together. Traditionally, the guests bring the food which is then shared among each other.

The luau I attended during my Hawaiian holidays was organized in the Community Center, to celebrate of my wife R's family reunion.
All the close relatives of the families originated from the defunct R's grandmother were invited. We were about two hundred: a success, given that most of those relatives are distributed pretty much all over the world.

The most typical character of the party was Patty Boy, a cousin of uncertain age with long bushy white hair collected in a ponytail. Deep and loud voice. When we arrived, together

The Luau dinner

with my sister in law and her husband, Patty Boy immediately ran towards R's sister (who lives in Washington State) embracing her with a hearty "Welcome to my cos from Italy". When we notified him the mistake, he repeated the same formula for R, and hugged me warmly shouting "Thank you for taking care of my cos".
Patty Boy, as a gesture of welcome, put on my neck a ti leaves lei, and responding to my "i am honored" he didn't loose the opportunity to point out (perhaps with excessive pathos) how lucky we were to live this occasion to strengthen our family unity.
I think Patty Boy embodies at all, almost as a caricature, the totally sincere welcoming spirit of Hawai'i.

The dinner was arranged on a long table with large trays, pans and serving dishes. Our contribution couldn't be anything but some typical Italian food: we filled a considerable number of cannoli shells with sweet fresh ricotta and candied fruit. The result was not bad at all, in fact they disappeared in few minutes.

Kalua pig

The Kalua pig preparation

The most typical food of the table was the kalua pig.
This is the native Hawaiian way to cook the pig: once wrapped an entire pig in banana leaves they bury it in a hole in the ground in which some hot stones were put. The pig is then covered with hot stones and sand. After a considerable amount of time they take put the sand and stones and unwrap the pork form the banana leaves, ready-cooked.
We were fortunate to be able to assist in the preparation of kalua pig with methods a little more "evolved". The pork was wrapped in banana leaves and aluminum foil and placed in a metal cage. The cage was sittinh on hot stones in the hole, and everything was covered with wet rags and a special plastic sheet. We have come to the place of preparation during the afternoon, when the kalua pig was being "unburied", and we had the opportunity to taste it still hot.

Poke

Typically, the kalua pig is accompanied by the poi, which is like a gray-pink and sweet taste puree, made out of taro, a tropical root. The poi must be eaten picking it up from a bowl with two fingers ("two fingahs")

Poke
Another typical way of eating in Hawaii is the poke. It is a snack, rather than lunch or dinner. The poke is sold in the deli of small supermarkets, supplied directly from local fishermen, as it happens in Hishihara market.

The chef at Chicken in a Barrel

The fish is cut into "bite size" cubes and marinated in spices and sauces. It is usually eaten with chopsticks.

Chicken in a Barrel
An enjoyable experience is to have lunch at little banquets on the roadside by the sea. Chicken in a Barrel is one of them.

Saimin

A single character with cowboy hat accepts orders from a window in a wooden small house, cook the chicken on a barbecue made out of a barrel and serves at tables arranged on the lawn surrounding area.

Saimin
Hawai'i islands are a repository of traditions brought there by immigrants from different places at different stages of history. Great is the Japanese community, so, popular is the cooking from Japan. One of my favorite places is Kintaro japanese restaurant, where I tasted the best sushi of my (limited) experience. But anytime i go to Kaua'i i never miss to go atleast once to Hamura Saimin. The saimin, the restaurants and the operators are very similar to those described in the movie The Ramen Girl. "Saimin", in fact, is the Hawaiian name of the ramen. The menu is rather limited, but no matter. The only order that makes sense over there is, in fact, the saimin.

All the photos of this post are from R's blog: http://rubbahslippahsinitaly.blogspot.com/

Deja-vu...?

What strikes you, As soon as you exit the plane at Lihue airport, is a strong sense of deja vu.
Actually, no. Deja vu is not the correct expression in this case, because, one could argue, it would be obvious that you feel you already saw a place ("deja vu") if you have already been there (and I have already been several times at the airport of Lihue).
It is rather some states of mind that you feel inside, in your lungs, in your stomach. You feel it, but you can't realize what it exactly is.
I believe that this feeling is evoked mainly by smell. Of cinnamon and ginger, but, above all, of very ripe fruits. A sweet smell, a little sticky (maybe even for the high rate of humidity). Not unpleasant at all, but very strong. It also hints of peat and fat undergrowth. The island smells very different from where i live. It almost seems to recognize something ancestral and primitive, which belongs to my genetics, but without any cultural tie, in this sense deja vu. Like it is for a lion roar: it would scare anyone, even those who had not ever heard its sound.

Kealia bay

You perceives something different also about hearing. Not the usual reverb of some sand between heels and fake-marble floors, typical in the airports, with artificial aseptic and metallic voices in the background. Here the speakers spread sugary Hawaiian melodies, the announcements always begin with aloha and end with mahalo. Everything comes a little muffled to the ears (maybe also for the warmth and moist of the air, after the air conditioning there was in the aircraft). This feeling is even increased when you exit the airport, and there is constant noise of the surf on the beaches or the waves crashing on the cliffs.

People are extraordinarily, almost irritatingly calm and quiet. With haoles (as i look - and i am) they are all very friendly. With the locals (like R) they start to speak strict pidgin seeking - and usually finding - common friends or relatives they share.
The cars move slowly and the traffic rage simply does not exist. The flow of events is not managed by clocks but instead by the availability of time of whoever is involved. Almost one wonders how it is possible that society respect schedulings designed on absolute time (eg public transport timetables).
This time we landed at night, but I like to arrive to Kaua'i during the day, because all of the sudden it offers, from the highway, some dramatic views of the mountains, similar in shape to the Dolomites, but colored with different shades of green (in the tropics vegetation is able to invade every available space). From a distance they look almost surreal, the colors a little blunt by humidity.

The best tasting food is the tropical fruit. I stuffed my face with papayas - who has never been to the tropics can not understand: the papayas we have in Italy taste like plastic, while over there they are sweet and buttery. Mangos, avocados, pineapples, star-fruits, bananas of every size and flavor, coconuts, typical macadamia nuts, lemons, limes, pomelos, passion fruits. At Kaua'i you can find wholesome and tasty goods at the farm markets (markets where fruit and vegetables are sold directly by the producers.)
And then there's the fresh fish, which is also sold in form of poke (raw fish salad dressed with sauces, spices and seaweeds, to eat with chopsticks).
Wine is unusual, but the beer flows is like rivers...
To food a specific post will be dedicated. After all, the reason (or the excuse) of our holiday over there was the participation to the typical luau, at the family reunion.

Aloha!

I'm back, after a short vacation in Hawai'i. I'm still trying to absorb the 12 hours jetleg.
I'll try to describe the beautiful holidays in the next posts, but first let's start with the bad things.

Milan Linate Airport, check-in.
Do you have the ESTA? Miss Antipathy with the British Airways symbol pinned to her jacket asks.
What the hell is an ESTA? you would ask.
What the hell is an ESTA? I ask Miss Antipathy with the British Airways pinned on her jacket.
The ESTA is a kind of entry visa for the United States, to be filled online prior to departure. I will find out later that these are the same questions that once had to be filled out on a paper form on board the aircraft, such as "are you a terrorist?", "are you carrying any explosive?", "Have you ever had to deal with episodes of delinquency? "," do you have any pending with justice? ", in short, some rhetorical questions that require a negative answers (I don't think a terrorist or a criminal has any ethical problem about the sincerity in his answers).
No, I do not have the ESTA.
So, you can not leave.
Panic.
How do you make that ESTA?
You go to http://esta.cbp.dhs.gov/ and stuffed the form with all these data. Total time about one minute. Then instantly you are allowed to enter the U.S.
Piece of cake.
Yes, if only you have an Internet access, of course, otherwise where can I write the address http://esta.cbp.dhs.gov/? On a postcard?
Now, you say, it is a breeze to find an internet connection within an airport!
At Linate it is not. There is a coin-operated Internet Point, but it does not work. Maybe there is a free WiFi access i can reach with my PDA. There is not. I wonder if the CheckIn desks have internet connection, i scrap the idea: Miss Antipathy with the British Airways symbol be pinned on her jacket wouldn't be so much unpleasant not to help me!
Demoralized I decide to go to another lady (this time very nice!) at the British Airways ticket desk, to move my flight to the next day. The nice lady asks me if I can not connect to the Internet to fill that damn ESTA. Eh, no, unfortunately i can not from here. Not even at the tiket desk they have any internet connection. The only option looks to change the date. Six hundred euros and a day of holiday lost.

Okay, the day after we arrive at the airport and this time at the check in there is a man: Mr. Antipathy, with the British Airways symbol pinned on his jacket. He stares our passports. He watches the printing of the flight reservation. He looks at me, but I'm not going to be caught unawares. Yes, I have the ESTA. He checks dubious on his terminal (mmmh... they don't have an internet access, but they can check online if i have that damn ESTA!). At the end he can't do other than admit. He puts a sticky tape with a barcode on our luggage and gives us the boarding passes. Have a nice flight, he smiles. We're on vacation!
Twenty-six hours later we finally reach the destination airport in Lihue. Baggage Claim. There are bags and suitcases of every shape and color, but not one black and orange sport bag. The luggage was lost somewhere in the world.
We go to the baggage office, Sorry, we'll deliver your baggage tomorrow. That makes you wonder where is all that safety program. You have to go through at least a couple of hand baggage and personal screening (remove shoes, belts, watches and pass in a magic door) for each airport. You also have to re-check baggage (ours was already lost in LosAngeles): even if the luggage is aimed at final destination, you must recognize it and take responsibility for its content. Every now and then a metallic voice recommends not to leave any baggage unattended, or it will be instantaneously destroyed.
Nevertheless at the end you are in one place and your luggage in another, thousands and thousands miles away. So much for safety!

The bag then will arrive three days after us (of course we go to WalMart to buy the bare necessities). But that won't ruin our holiday. It's a warm tropical night, the air is moist and spicy and a soft ukulele music sounds in our ears.
Aloha!

Four

10/10/2007

My new bicycle

Gosh! - I wondered some time ago - why, to go to work, day after day, I'm forced to pollute and waste money and resources into fuel, financing oil multinationals and warlords, driving a car without even enjoying it?
I like to drive, but when there is a journey to make! The positive aspect of this activity is linked to the need to escape from everyday life. The path from home to work instead is always the same, and it's even is annoying to have to pay attention to driving. In my case, then, it would be more nice to be enraptured by the charms of the bucolic woods of chestnut trees, rather than focusing on narrow roads and hairpin bends.

Actually, there is the bus. But for me it's uncomfortable, because the schedule does not match with my working hours. I certainly can not blame them: the line is designed to serve a small town. In other words, it is an invaluable service on the emergencies, but really impractical for everyday needs. When I used to live in Turin, and even before, when I was commuting by train between the province and the city of Milan (in that case the problem was to cover the journey between home and the station), I went by bike. And I liked it! it's a silent, efficient, quick and practical medium. And I especially liked the type of phisical activity.
I'm not a sporty type. I do not like sports without any practical purpose. I think it's absurd to waste resources (money, energy, time), in comforts gaining a sedentary lifestyle, but then again wasting some more (for example in the gym) to remedy the problems caused by

altitude profile of the route between home and work, detected by GPS

that lifestyle. Rather, it's better to use our energies when we need.
The bike, from this point of view is perfect, if it is compatible with the route that has to be covered. In Turin, for example, I had planned a route about 15 km long (a little longer than the needed) that passed through a city park and the towpaths of the Po, the Dora and a service channel (I had to deal with traffic in only a few points).

Where I live now, there is big problem. The way between home and the workplace is exactly 10km long. Not much, but my house is located at an altitude of five hundred meters more than the office. On average, then, the slope is 5%. Of course that 5% is not constant, and in some places the slope touches 10%. At this link there is the altimetrical contour of the path. Within that graph, my home is at about the fifth km. The office is, then, 5 km before the beginning of the graph and in those 5 km there is a similar slope. That climb is not impossible. On the opposite, the accurate documentation in www.salite.ch website, dedicated to "climber" cyclists shows that it is a classic in its genre. One can see bounches of them, especially in the weekends, with their super-technological bicycles, in their tight sportsuits with their shaved legs. All dripping proud sweat despite their calves with a circumference comparable to my stomach (and it's not small!), But with a very different tonicity. Those people can bear the slope for sure. But I think they also would never consider to do it every day to get home after work.
And, as I said above, I am not an athletic dude!
No, forget it! The bike would never be the solution!

...Unless ...

...Unless there is someone who helps to push.

That's the idea!

I search for informations about it, on the Internet and at specialized stores.
Eventually I found the shop "Punto fotovoltaico" at Galbiate (LC), licensee of the brand "Ecoveicoli" (which, as one can easily guess from the name, sells eco-friendly vehicles), and I bought it.
This is an electric bicycle with pedal assistance.

Okay "electric" - you can say - but what the hell does it mean "pedal assistance"?

There is a precise legislation that allows such a vehicle to be approved just like an ordinary bicycle (so no driving tax nor insurance nor helmet nor driving license).

(...) Shall also be considered bicycles with pedal assistance those vehicles equipped with an auxiliary electric motor having a maximum continuous rated power of 0.25 KW, which is gradually reduced and finally stopped when the vehicle reaches 25 km/h or before, if the cyclist stops pedaling.

Official law No. 31/February 7, 2003 (translation of mine)

In other words there is an electric motor that helps to propel the vehicle only when the pedals are moving. The engine stops pushing if you do not pedal, or, of course, if you brake. The push is inversely proportional to the speed until you reach 25km/h, when the power stops pushing. I have the feeling (but I'm not sure) that the speed is calculated on the rotation of the pedals, and not of the wheel, which is not the same thing, 'cause it depends on the shift (to an equal  speed the engine seems to push more with a high gear).

My bike, pictured in the photo, is a Dinghi Special 24", with the setting "Export".
I have pondered the purchase. My indecision was based on the need to confirm that this method would allow me to overcome, more or less easily, the climb that I described above. I was not convinced that the the bike could manage.
At the end of the guy of the store helped me to overcome the question, allowing me a test-ride. One Saturday morning he and I jumped on the two candidate models, and we went for a long ride (with a slope a little less and about half the distance).
The difference between the two models lies in setting "Export". Aside from some touch of look, and the suspensions on the fork (useful but not decisive) the improvement that justifies the 450 euros extra of the more equipped one is the expensive lithium-ion battery instead of the lead one.
In addition to the ecological advantage of the lithium battery, during the test I found out that the lowest total weight of the bike + the battery (already heavy for the Export model) and above all a greater immediacy in the delivery the full power could really be the determining factor in my decision, given the criticality of the track.

I have already rode four times the path from home to work and back.
The first leg, of course, is easy. It takes more or less at the same time it takes by car. I always live the engine off but I hardly do any hard work (the road has only two climbs almost flat and very short). I arrive at work rested and refreshed in the morning crisp air. The only flaw is that I can not listen to the news at Popolare Network radio station (I think i will pose a remedy to that with a small radio set).
The back hand, istead, is quite challenging. Especially in this period, rather hot at that time also over here in the mountains. The climbs are tough, despite the aid of the engine. But the fatigue is bearable. It takes about forty minutes (less than twice the much by car).

At the end, I am satisfied with my purchase. But I've still got some minor criticisms:
- The bike, when the engine is on, has a green light that turns red when the battery is low charge. Unfortunately, when this happens, i am allowed for a couple of miles uphill. So, not to risk, i charge it every time, and that is not recommended if you want to give the battery a long life (the best is to plug it in only when fully discharged). It would have been better if it had a system a little more complex, like the one i have seen in the higher model ("Frisbee"), where the state of battery charge is shown in detail by a potentiometer. In that case, perhaps I could venture to make two journeys with a single charge (*).
- Dinghi Special 24" has a rear gearbox with six-speed derailleur (from 42/13 to 42/34). In some parts of the route, the climb would require an even shorter one, as it is in the "Frisbee".
- Going down, on the slope, given the weight of the vehicle (and of the rider), i have almost always to keep the brake engaged. It's a pity to waste that energy. Wouldn't be wonderful to have a system that uses it to recharge the battery?

The bike costs 1321 euros, but I had a discount to 1200, plus 15 euros for the basket. I then "decorated" it with a device that measures the speed and the distance (23 euros at Decathlon). I also bought a helmet (16 euros), which is not mandatory, but advisable.

(*): The producer says that a charge bear 80km on level ground or 40km uphill. It is a purely hypothetical measurement, because of course it depends on many factors, including the steepness of the climb, the rider's weight and strength that he impresses to the pedals (and thus the speed of travel).

What a nice picture!

Anche tu Rubi?

Come ti chiami, bella? tanto il mio nome già lo sai è per questo che sei qui, per non scordarlo mai. Io ti posso regalare tutto quanto tranne la felicità, però ti prego non chiamarmi anche tu papà. Tu che vita che farai sai che proprio non mi importa, perché domani, quando uscirai da questa porta, quanti anni avrai e quanti te ne avrà rubati io sono solo cazzi tuoi che qui tanto è tutto mio. Anche tu Ruby tu come me, rubi sì siamo entrambi due grandi rubacuor che io ti pago, Ruby ma non m'appago, Ruby ma tu puoi sognare in questa villa a Arcor come sei alta, snella che gamba lunga lunga! adesso dai facciamo.... un po' di rumba su dai racconta i tuoi casini e dammi da bere, ho ancora sete che andare coi più piccolini mi fa sentire grande son scherzi anche da prete. Ma anche tu Ruby tu come me, rubi che sono bello, sono alto e sono un rubacuor che posso tutto, Ruby io sono il capo, Ruby e ti concedo di sognar in questa villa a Arcor ma anche tu, Ruby tu come me, rubi che sono bello, sono alto e sono un rubacuor che posso tutto, Ruby io sono il capo, Ruby e ti concedo di sognar in questa villa a Arcor e ti concedo di sognar in questa villa a Arcor e ti concedo di sognar ma intanto dammi... il cuor

What's your name, pretty? anyway, you know my name, already that's why you are here, not to forget it ever. I can give you everything but happiness, but, please, don't call me "daddy" you too.(1) What kind of life you will live you know, i really don't mind, because tomorrow, when you'll go out this door, how old you'll be and how many years i will have stolen to you that's only your freaking business cos here, anyway, everything is mine. You too Ruby (2) just lke me, you steal(3) yes, we are both heartbrakers (4) Cos i pay you, Ruby but i get no satisfaction, Ruby but you can dream in this villa at Arcore (5) how tall you are, how skinny what a long long leg! now let's make.... some rumba (6) Come on tell me your troubles and give me something to drink, i am still thursty that dating the little ones makes me feel tall (7) they are also priests' jokes (8). You too Ruby just lke me, you steal cos i am handsome, i am tall and i am a heartbraker cos i can everything, Ruby i am the boss, Ruby and i allow you to dream in this villa at Arcore You too Ruby just lke me, you steal cos i am handsome, i am tall and i am a heartbraker cos i can everything, Ruby i am the boss, Ruby and i allow you to dream in this villa at Arcore and i allow you to dream in this villa at Arcore and i allow you to dream but now give me your... heart

Omar Stellacci

Notes:
(1): Referred to one (the first?) scandal of sexy girls at the court of Berlusconi, which used to call him "Papi" or "Papà" (="Daddy")
(2): Ruby is the nickname of this underage girl that looks like had an affair with Berlusconi.
(3): In italian "you steal" is "rubi", which has the same sound of the nickname of the girl: Ruby.
(4): In italian "heartbraker(s)" is "rubacuori" (literally "heart thief"), which root sounds similar to "rubi" and "Ruby".
(5): Arcore is the town where Berlusconi's villa is.
(6): In italian, "gamba lunga lunga" (="long long leg") rhymes with "bunga bunga" which according to all the newspapers, is the favorite erotic amusement of Berlusconi. That expression is so popular that it is clearly recalled although not pronounced.
(7): Referred to Berlusconi's height (he's kind of short).
(8): In italian, "scherzo da preti" (literally "priests' joke") is a dummy joke (priests are notoriously not very funny). But here it is also referred to some pedophily scandal among Catholic priests.