I Vacation to Adventure and Reflect, Not to Relax
And Oahu, Hawaii gave me this and more…
My Definition of Vacationing
Like my fellow millennials and Gen-Zers, my definition of vacation is quite different from that of older generations. Before, vacationing served as time to relax and to relieve oneself of stresses that stemmed from everyday responsibilities related to family, work, among other things. However, with my generation, vacationing became a symbol of exploration and growth — an opportunity to experience the world, travel along its majestic geographies, speak to its diverse and inspiring peoples, and experience its cultures. Ultimately, the millennial generation redefined vacationing as something that brings about new experiences, and that newness can bring personal growth and development.
And through these vacations, I often feel a sense of accomplishment because of the notion that even though I am taking time to “vacation,” what this really means is that I am actually using this time to invest in myself by pursuing these new experiences and am ultimately, growing.
Framing vacations as growth opportunities guides the way I map out my vacations, specifically regarding decisions about what activities I take on and ultimately, where I decide to go. With this in mind, I booked a vacation to Oahu, Hawaii during December 2021 so that I can:
- Reflect on this post-COVID lockdown year of 2021 and the triumphs, failures, and lessons that came with it.
- Reflect on the first 25 years of my life (my birthday lands in mid-December 2021) and where I want to go next.
- Connect deeply with my Filipinx heritage and upbringing by traveling to a land where Filipinxs are quite prevalent, both in history and in population.
- Experience the island’s terrain, culture, and food that warmly mirrors that of my motherland, the Philippines.
Hawaii Felt Like a Home Away from Home
I took a Filipinx American (Fil-Am) History class in college that taught me about Fil-Am history in Hawaii. Filipinxs have been in Hawaii for years due to labor needs on sugar plantations and other agricultural enterprises on the islands. Additionally, I learned about Pacific Islander (PI) culture through my friendships with PIs, as well as being situated in the Bay Area, where there are notable populations of Samoans and Hawaiians. Through these experiences and interactions, I found that there were deep similarities between Filipinxs and PIs, including both groups’ focus on family and community well-being, an emphasis on values like generosity and community, and of course, a love for food.
So, during my first few days in Hawaii, I ate local foods that reminded me of my mom’s and aunties’ cooking, connected with locals and particularly, Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs) about their experiences being on the island and so far away from their homes, lived in a climate and land similar to that of which my parents and ancestors before them lived on, and lastly, I was comfortably surrounded by brown Asian Americans & Pacific Islanders (AAPIs) that looked like me.
I truly felt like I was home.
Climbing Up to the Peak
It was my fourth day in Hawaii and still, I hadn’t seen much of the land. So, I made my way to Monoa Falls per a close friend’s recommendation and it turned out to a beautiful region with lush, tropical green forestry and a natural waterfall. It is a popular tourist destination and continues to be a popular destination for big-time movie scenes, including scenes in the iconic film Jurassic Park. Thus, the area is crowded with tourists and unfortunately, is not an ideal location for people trying to find quiet and intimately connect with and experience the land. Also, frankly, it is a straightforward, flat trail meant for controlled sight-gazing (like those safari tours you see in Africa) as opposed to true exploration and nature experiences.
And so, I found a connecting trail, called Aihualama Trail, that eventually led me to a viewpoint called Pauoa Flats Lookout (a photo of the lookout is located at the top of this article). The trail is quite stimulating as within it, there is a plethora of diverse plants with big, leathery-like leaves, which I suspect function to protect them from the dense rainfall the region receives during the rainy season, and many banyan trees, or native trees with elaborate systems of roots visibly glued to the earth — making it fun to hopscotch across the polygonal dirt spaces that these root systems create. The trail also has many switchbacks and stunning views of the surrounding area as you hike towards the top.
On the way up, I was challenged by the terrain — it was stimulating, yet generously inclined and at times, slippery due to the mud that had accumulated from the storms that had hit the islands just a day before. Hawaii had just experienced its first cold front of the year when I arrived and was even expected to see snow on the Big Island of Hawaii.
Still, I saw the trail as a healthy challenge — an opportunity for me to test my physical abilities and conquer and experience something new (so millennial of me). And ultimately, I had a blast traveling to the top of the mountain because during the hike, I was in my groove. I had my headphones on listening to my favorite workout jams, was murmuring my spiritual mantra with each switchback I turned on, and was reflecting on how much I accomplished in the past year, which included supporting my younger brother in applying to colleges, starting a new consulting job at La Piana Consulting, and more.
The climb up magnified my self-reflection process and feeling of accomplishment during the past year by acting as a manifestation of all the triumphs I overcame recently e.g., climbing up a mountain in a foreign land is very symbolic of conquering new, personal ventures. Furthermore, the distance that remained as I climbed toward the top was symbolic of what was still left for me to accomplish as I approached the new year. Thus, while traveling to the top, I felt reflective, confident, and excited for the future , which is much of what I wanted to come out of this trip.
The Sound Tells All
After taking a brief break at the top of the summit, I made my way back down through the muddy trail. As I traveled down, my hiking shoes got increasingly muddy and so, I had to stop frequently to wipe off the mud to ensure I didn’t slip on the way down (that obviously didn’t work). 15 minutes into my descent, I was in the zone and making my way through the same nooks and crannies that I had journeyed through just moments earlier when I took a step with my right leg, slipped a bit, tried to brace myself, and heard a velcro-like tear in my knee.
Kkkkkrrrriiiissshhh. Ouch!
Immediately, I fell down, ripped off my headphones, and prayed for the best, painfully whispering “please, please, please” as I suspected what that sound meant. I had an ACL tear in my left knee eight years ago so I could tell that the sound my right knee made was not typical. Meanwhile, I felt a rush of inflammation and a burning sensation hit the area where the sound came from and so, while sitting on the dirt trail, I tugged my knee sleeve down, bended it to assess the damage, and saw a deep crevasse where my knee cap had previously been. I also saw that my knee cap was four inches higher than normal. Think of a crater on the moon.
Shocked by what I saw and what this could mean for my life, my health, and my climb back down this rugged 2.5 mile trail, I panicked and put my knee sleeve back on, stood up, and desperately tried to take a step. I immediately fell back down as I was unable to engage my right quadriceps and walk. Dirt covered the left side of the body where I fell on and in that moment, an alarm went off in my head. I sat there staring off into the distance with a blank stare on my face thinking “fuckkkkkkk.”
I sat there realizing that I was by myself on a rugged trail surrounded by dense, tropical forestry at the top of a 1,800 foot-tall trail on an island thousands away from home with little cell reception. Not to mention, the winter season’s first cold front had just hit Hawaii and numerous mudslides and flash floods had been reported on the islands in the days prior.
For the first time in my life, I truly felt no agency over my life and utterly vulnerable. I knew I was in trouble.
The Dichotomy of Life & Death
Moments later, a few hikers came down, saw me, and asked if I needed help. I firmly responded yes and minutes later, they leant me their phone for me to call 911 with (my phone had spotty signal. Thanks AT&T).
I spoke with the 911 operator and told the gentleman of my situation. He then probed for questions about my ability to walk and the surrounding areas and told me he geo-pinned my location. I had a slight hunch about what was coming next. It rhymes with copter.
And moments later, the operator called me back to confirm that they would be sending a helicopter to extract me out of my location. A helicopter!
The hikers who helped me included a former ER nurse, as well as a local Hawaiian couple. The Hawaiian woman reminded me of a long-lost auntie and she stayed with me to emotionally comfort me with her presence. Meanwhile, the ER nurse wrapped up my knee and also stayed with me for moral support.
I also called my partner while this was all going on and she picked up her phone with her usual cheery voice asking how my time in Hawaii was. Understandably, of course, I cut the small talk short and went on to explain the emergency I was in. She kept me company over text message as I awaited my extraction.
Minutes later, I heard the chopping sounds of a helicopter’s blades in the distance. At last, help was coming.
The Hawaiian couple ran down the trail to where the helicopter had dropped off the pararescue person and moments later, they guided him to me. With his toolbelt of emergency equipment, industrial military boots, and confident, assured demeanor, I felt that I was in good hands. After asking questions about my pain and the overall situation, he signaled the helicopter to come to our precise location.
Sprinkles of rain started to fall and the pararescue radio’d the helicopter pilot that “the weather is getting bad, we gotta hurry this up.” That freaked me out. The helicopter then repositioned itself over us and let down a rope. From here, he gave me a few extraction options: for me to lay in a cage or to lay in a “diaper.” I responded that he could do whatever he thinks is best — I just wanted to get the hell out of there.
So, the pararescue, along with some other kind hikers, lifted me up onto a log to provide him a sufficient enough of an angle and space to slide the “diaper” under me, which was ultimately a triangular tarp that cradled me and attached to his harness, and he then buckled us to the rope that swung down from the helicopter.
I strapped my backpack on my chest, held onto the rescue man as tight as I could, and the hikers gave me their final farewells — hugs and affirmations that I will be alright. I miss them already. The hikers backed up and the helicopter slowly lifted me through the tropical trees until the trail was under us and soon, we were flying across the mountain range into the central valley where a group of 15 firefighters and EMTs awaited me.
Dangling from the bottom of the helicopter, I gripped on to the rescue man for dear life. I felt a paradoxical and powerful combination of intense emotions including disbelief, terror, trauma, along with gratitude and thrill. I yelled “woohoo” knowing that I was living a once-in-a-lifetime moment: me flying through the air attached to the bottom of an emergency helicopter with a densely green mountain range and valley under me on the majestic island of Oahu, Hawaii. I felt like I was in an action movie.
Ironically, despite being so in danger and coming out of a near-death situation, both on the trail and in the air, I felt intensely alive.
ERs are Very Eye-Opening Places
I was slowly descended into a larger tarp that about a dozen firefighters were holding onto. The emergency crew then transported me onto a gurney where a group of young EMTs who were around my age took care of me. They asked me standard identification and health-related questions, and after confirming that the only thing I had injured was my knee (as opposed to my head or any internal organs), I started to candidly chatter with them about the experience.
The young EMTs told me about much worse stories that they experienced with hikers, both locals and tourists, who did not have it as lucky as me. Listening to these stories made the trauma of my near-death experience sink in that much deeper, but also, made me feel significantly more thankful for everyone that had helped rescue me and the positive outcome of the situation itself. I started to think deeply about alternative situations such as me having been on a trail with zero signal or fellow hikers to help me, or me having been in the same accident, but in a foreign country where emergency infrastructures are non-existent e.g., the Philippines.
I felt increasingly grateful for all of the privileges that I enjoy as a middle-class Filipino American in the United States.
I arrived at the ER and saw a few interesting scenes — a large, Hawaiian man who looked like he could’ve been an NFL offensive lineman with handcuffs behind his back and an old, white lady laying in her bed who apparently, had been a recurring visitor to this hospital. Meanwhile, I sat in my bed, which was situated in a grey hallway under an eery, florescent light, covered in dirt and still in disbelief about what had just happened.
The old, white lady in front of me had no visitors and with her wheezing voice, struggled to list off to medical staff about her countless health issues. I remember her saying “whatever you have listed, I have it.” Observing her and how alone and unhealthy she was, along with the situation I was in, I called my partner for emotional support and told her that I had never felt so alone and vulnerable in my life.
I just wanted to go back home.
Additionally, the financial implications of being rescued, transported by the ambulance, and visiting the ER began to worry me as I had always been cognizant of the extreme health care costs associated with emergency services. I thought about this more deeply as I coordinated with the ER administrative staff about my insurance coverages (fortunately, I was double-covered at the time: by my parent’s and my insurance).
Two Unexpected Gifts: 1) Family and 2) A Lesson on Partnerships
Fortunately, I had reached out to a long-lost relative in Hawaii prior to the trip as I have been proactively trying to expand my ties with extended family members. Thus, this served as an opportune time for me to exercise my “long lost cousin card” and to ask for their help. I called her and explained my situation and so, her and her family of four (her, her husband, and two daughters) came out to the hospital to bring me to my hotel, pick up my rental car, and generously, bought me medicine and yummy Hawaiian food/snacks (and lots of it!)
More precisely, this long-lost relative is my grandma’s cousin’s daughter, or my second Auntie, and so, her husband is my uncle and her two daughters are my nieces! They’re a beautiful Filipinx family of four who transplanted to Hawaii from Chicago in pursuit of experiencing something refreshing and new, while also building something that’s uniquely theirs.
Their actions and presence that day taught me the true meaning of aloha and the beautiful norm that Filipinx families may be distant in geography and even in knowledge of each other, but when push comes to shove, they’ll always be there for one another.
I learned to unconditionally value my Filipinx relatives, both close and far, because I know that no matter how far we are from each other, we’ll always be family.
Soon after, I received a call from my partner letting me know that she had booked the soonest flight she could and that she had booked a proceeding flight the day after to get us home. She also coordinated wheelchair services and upgraded our tickets to a row in business class that provided extraordinary leg room for my immobile, torn-up leg.
She arrived the following day at noon and we spent the whole day inside the hotel room watching movies and eating Hawaiian food we picked up at the nearby grocery store, Foodland, while it ferociously stormed outside.
Her prompt arrival and mere presence taught me profound lessons about the value of a partnership, especially during the toughest of times.
Recovery and Growth, both Physically and Mentally
After returning home just two days after the incident, I have been on a logistical rollercoaster. I wanted to get surgery ASAP as I knew months of physical therapy were awaiting me.
And so, in the span of 10 days, I was able to
- Schedule a flight home to California from Hawaii (with the help of my partner)
- Coordinate my doctor appointments
- Receive an MRI scan and proper diagnosis
- Receive surgery
Additionally, during this time, I had to communicate to my work supervisor that I could not work throughout much of December and coordinate with him to ensure my consulting firm had sufficient support while I was out. And at the bottom of my plate, I realized that I was turning 26!
I celebrated my 26th birthday in simple fashion — by watching movies, eating homemade food, and spending time with my family. Still, I felt traumatized by this near-death experience and continued to have a whirlwind of irrational thoughts including about the fragility of life, my questionable physical health, and how my 2022 plans got flopped onto their heads.
However, thanks to the my investment into my mental health, I healthily reframed the situation as an opportunity filled with learning lessons and opportunities for growth. And so, here are some lessons and opportunities that I discovered:
- Life is precious. I am grateful for every moment of it — both challenging and easy.
- Having to worry about healthcare costs is unacceptable. I would never want anybody to have to consider the costs of their care when thinking about their health and especially, during life emergencies.
- Life is so much about luck and much of it is out of our control. So, providing people with as much agency over their lives as I can is my life mission. Thus, I am that much more convicted in my decision to work in social impact.
- Despite much of life being out of my control, what is in my control is within arm’s reach and what is in arms’ reach are powerful tools and decisions that I can make to influence the outcomes of mine and others’ lives for the better.
- Home and family are everything for me.
- I deeply value my partner and the partnerships we have fostered together.
- I realize that I am a very rationale, capable, and effective person. My extraordinary character really shined through this experience.
- With all this free time, I now have time to invest deeply in my physical and financial health, as well as to pursue long-procrastinated hobbies/ventures in my home throughout these next few months.
Final Thoughts
So, as I reflect back on my vacation in Hawaii in December 2021, I ask myself whether I fulfilled my definition of “vacationing” and accomplished my goals of going on new adventures, experiencing new cultures, people, and lands, reflecting on the past year, and lastly, growing and developing as a human being. And despite my planned two-week vacation being stripped down to just a few days and a torn-up knee, I say yes, I believe I did indeed “vacation.” I was airlifted by helicopter, met new, long-lost family, felt what aloha truly is, deeply reflected on my identity and growth, learned profound lessons like those listed above, and more!
So, overall, I enjoyed and am grateful for my vacation in Hawaii. It was challenging, yet rewarding, and I will be sure to come back once my leg is all healed up. However, I will make sure to only come back during the non-rainy season and will probably stick to the beaches and local food spots. Aloha!
