Tea in the ancient world: April 2025

I've not been putting any focus on tea lately, returning to live with my kids in Honolulu a week or so ago. It's been a busy week, and a busy month before that getting ready back in Bangkok. I don't have so many deep, insightful thoughts to share so I'll add a bit on random impressions and then focus more on an interesting hike we just did. I didn't even leave myself much interesting for a tea stash from last year; an old Xiaguan cake will be nice to drink, and the rest was mostly samples.

It was nice spending time at the Incheon, Korean airport during a layover on the way. We often transit through Haneda in Japan, flying JAL, but this time I took Asiana, so transited in Korea. Both are kind of equivalent; both are spacious, with decent services, and so much extra seating that it's not a problem to find a quiet gate area and lay down on an open row of seats for a nap. They both have a decent amount of power cord stations, so that's not an issue. Food options are fine at both, but I tend to eat snacks more than meals in between airline food meals.

One problem came up: Korea doesn't have the same degree of tea culture, so there were no hot water dispensers for tea in that airport. Of course coffee shops might give you some, or sell it to you, and there are lounges, mostly for business or first class customers, but it's not the same as in Japanese airports, or all over the place in China. I cold-brewed a tea bag I'd brought of pu'er cake scraps, the extra bits that throw off brewing if you include that with separated more whole leaves. It kind of worked. As a parent it was tempting to walk into a baby care room to use hot water in one, since I'd spent so many years with free access to those places, which provide filtered hot water, but it just didn't seem right.

Related to the relocation reverse culture shock is always an interesting theme and experience. I've lived in Honolulu three times over the last 2 1/2 years or so, generally for this same time period, for about 2 1/2 months. I went to grad school in Honolulu so I'd lived here quite awhile ago for 2 years.

It's not so much that appearances, expectations, and experiences are so different that I need to adjust to them, it's just about things seeming different. Then jet lag adds to that. People look different, of course, but most people are Asian, which of course matches Bangkok. Clothing styles are different, there are homeless people here (and not so much there), and the beach resort theme is different. I love Hawaii, but I feel a little more at home in Bangkok, even though in general I hate large cities. I lived in a ski resort area for a long time in Colorado, so that's familiar, being where others vacation, but it can also seem a little odd, when it's all your daily life instead.

I haven't ran yet; I've been quite busy, and jet lag made the first days rough [although I did twice, in between first writing this and editing, since I'm slow to post this]. The kids had spring break for the first half a week, so I spent every minute with them, the only way that would go. I'd missed them terribly, even more than I miss the cats at home now. Running is much nicer here; the air is clean, and much cooler, and it's breezy, with everywhere you go looking a bit like a postcard.

That hike

the top, from near the top

Of course it started with a late start; how else would it start ? I woke up really early (back to the jet lag theme) and walked up Kapiolani road to get malasadas at Leonard's bakery, at 6:30, and then by the time everyone else woke, ate, and made plans we didn't catch a bus until 10:30. Kalani visited a friend instead, so only Keo and I hiked. We had planned to do an easy route, up the St. Louis heights ridgeline to transition to Manoa valley, walking over the one side. But then we talked and cruised on the walk up to that turn-off, and met an older guy there (79), who recommended that it would be a good day to go up to Mt. Olympus, because it's dry out now, so it wouldn't be muddy. We really didn't bring even close to enough water to do that route, 1.5 liters between us, but we went up anyway.

We kept up a good pace over the next moderate section, not really pushing it, but eventually it got steep, and it was harder to keep effort level moderate to avoid sweating. It took about an hour and a half from that trail branch, a bit difficult near the top, with ropes to hold while climbing steep sections, but we made it up. The views were amazing. We could see the next island over (Molokai, probably), and the other side of Oahu, Kaneohe on the east. The pictures will tell that story.

Then we cruised down, trying to keep a good pace and moderate effort level. That got harder as we dropped into the Manoa valley, with all that distance getting to us. We were parched as we caught a bus, off to a McDonald's for a value meal, and cup after cup of Hi-C orange drink, after the first round of water. It was really something.

It was odd fitting the image of a homeless person so well on that McDonald's visit. I was covered in dirt from using ropes to stabilize myself on really steep terrain, climbing up natural steps embedded in mostly dried mud. I smelled terrible from sweating, and was a bit out of it. There is no clear point to this part, no extra insight about taking up that social image; it was just odd.

Of course it involves adjustment getting back to this life, all the family dynamics, and extra demands. Eye has been working a lot so I fill in most of the gaps, making meals, doing laundry, and making sure that kids' activities include outdoor time. Keoni and I have swam out to a flag in a swim lane twice, 200+ meters / yards out in the ocean. We met an old high school acquaintance once, on the beach to see fireworks (which were out of view; we were in the wrong place). It has been nice. I miss family, cats, and life in Bangkok, but being with the kids is worth all of that.