One time not too long ago but definitely far away, Aunty Pua and I went to Maui to do a Building the Beloved Community workshop with one of our partners. We flew into Kahului, got a car, and headed over to the Hali‘imaile/Makawao area. On the way, we had to shishi. There was a little park on the ma kai side of the road, with an old public bathroom.
I wondered if it would be safe, and clean. On O‘ahu, a lot of our public park bathrooms are dicey bets. Sometimes there are drugs. Often, the bathrooms are unclean or vandalized. Sometimes, because of illicit activity in the area, the bathrooms are not kept up because the city gives up. There’s no soap or no toilet paper. Sometimes there’s no doors on the stalls.
However, the little bathroom in Hali‘imaile was clean. It had TP, and even soap to wash your hands. Aunty Pua marveled in her curious way. “It says something about the community, she said. “That they have and maintain this for each other.” The dignity of a public bathroom. We joked about creating a new Beloved Community principle, the Hali‘imaile Park principle (or something like that) but it didn’t stick. But for both of us it was a stark contrast to O‘ahu.
This week I’m here in Kyoto, Japan, visiting an old college roommate and her husband, a college frined, and their son. The immersion provides a ton of opportunity for curious observation. Having a close friend who also speaks English also provides the blessing of (cultural) translation and expanded understanding. I’ve seen and learned so much in my time here, and I love this city. I can see why so many come to visit.
Not only the layers upon layers of history, the temples, shrines, and castles that burned and were rebuilt over and over, but the layers of mo‘olelo and magic to match. The school sports field that used to be a giant temple where the Tale of Genji was inspired. The street where the emperor had as many shrines and temples moved as he could prevent them from rebelling. The literal piko of Kyoto, a small “bellybutton” near a spring behind a coffeeshop, next to the place where ikebana was born that is still an ikebana school. I love it.
It feels like every couple of blocks there’s a temple or shrine. I had to ask to learn more about the history of shrines and temples, the former being Shinto and the later being Buddhist. Did you know that? So much to learn. Every shrine or temple usually has a special tree. A revered tree, sometimes hundreds of years old. The resonance of values with our own in Hawai‘i is striking, the every day way people live into their spirituality.
Differences, differences. There’s nowhere to throw your trash, you carry it with you. There’s no rubbish in the streets. Bathrooms are clean. There’s dignity, however quiet, everywhere. Late at night, I’m safe. I’m so safe I almost feel unsafe, wandering picturesque dark streets from my friend’s home near the Imperial Palace complex to my lodging in Sanjō. I’m so safe I can feel history and spirits rustling in the dark.
I think about the O‘ahu of today and how we’ve failed each other some ways. There’s the “system” that we always complain about, and there’s the fact that the system is made up of people. We’ve lost some of our essential integrity, the ability and capacity to take care of one another. For the government to fulfill its basic function, to set a baseline of care through its actions—healthcare for all, food and shelter and basic wellbeing for everyone. Clean streets. Because the city is so expensive, my friend’s work subsidizes their housing. When my friend fell ill, they could afford for her not to work. That doesn’t happen without a strong safety and social fabric that sets citizens up for success.
Japan of course is not perfect, but it provides a mirror and a reflection. And it makes me think that we create our communities, we create how we want to live with each other. Our layers of mo‘olelo and history—personal, collective, and in our social psyche, they impact what we’ve become and how we live. And as we struggle with so many painful legacies in Hawai‘i and the U.S., many of then un-metabolized and unaddressed, that sheds light on why we are the way we are. This is what I can comment on and critique, because that’s where I’m from.
It’s early plum blossom season here. While the ginko trees are still bare bony knuckles poking skyward along the sidewalks, in parks and sacred places there’s these beautiful pops of deep pink and white all over.
I haven’t been here in Japan long enough to understand the impact of those kinds of wounds here. I know a lot of history, I’m half Japanese, but I haven’t lived a life in this place that can provide that deeper insight or knowing. But as a mirror, there’s always so much to learn and unpack in the reflection of things. These are just some thoughts and experiences I’ve had during my first trip here.
Wishing for you a clean bathroom always and the safety to walk down streets in the dark whenever you need to.
Mahalo,
Dawn
Photo taken 2/14/26 in Kyoto near Teramachi.