So as you could probably tell by the collective sound of groaning across the country on Monday, spring break recently came to an end. Students around the country had to come back from home or some tropical beach somewhere and go back to pretending to care about things like chemistry. Like many students, I went on a trip, and like many students, I spent that trip surrounded by Mexicans. That’s right: I went to Texas. Let me explain what an Asian guy from Hawaii in shorts and slippers was doing in Texas. I decided to join my family and head down to Texas to visit my dad’s step-brothers and their families in San Antonio. As with all trips, it seemed like a good idea when we were planning it. Since my step-uncles dislike venturing outside of Texas, I haven’t seen them in over 15 years and I have never seen their families.
As soon as we got to Texas, I realized why we had never made a visit before. My dad and I instantly became confused by the road system, and simple ten minute drives became long sightseeing tours. Whoever designed mainland roads clearly didn’t like people. There are so many different types of roads: interstates, routes, highways, farm-to-market roads (whatever those are) and they all are just numbered in some illogical order that means you go from I-10 to I-410 to F.M 1976, plus each one actually has an east road and a north road plus they don’t label their exits well and people don’t know how to drive and are going 80 miles an hour AND IT CAN GET A LITTLE FRUSTRATING OKAY?! I’M NOT YELLING!!! I DON’T HAVE ROAD RAGE!! Sorry about that. It’s just that back home on the Big Island driving is much simpler. There is only one highway, and you just drive along at a brisk 35 miles an hour until you see your destination, when you just turn. Plus we name our highways things like Mamalahoa and Napoopoo, so they’re easy to remember (and it’s fun to watch tourists try to pronounce them). Whereas on the mainland, when you see your destination, it’s always on the wrong side of the road or it’s on a one-way road going the wrong way, so you have to drive ten minutes in the opposite direction before you finally get on the right road, where you get to drive another ten minutes to finally get there (and don’t get me started on the parking).
But anyway, once we figured out how to get around, we decided to go see the sights of San Antonio. Whatever those are. We tried the Riverwalk, but the crowds freaked out my step-uncle, who lives with his wife and dog on a 64 acre-piece of land in a pile of bushes called Junction, Texas, where the number of Chevy trucks outnumber the people. Besides, the Riverwalk is a scam. It’s not even a natural river. It’s like if I were to dig a hole in my backyard, open a shop and restaurant, play music and call it the Big Ditch Center. We did get to see the Alamo, the famous building where a band of outnumbered Texas soldiers bravely stood their ground as they were slaughtered by a large throng of tourists, and trust me, they are still there today (the tourists that is, the soldiers are dead). Still, it was an awe-inspiring moment to turn the corner and look upon the mighty Alamo, and exclaim, “That’s IT?!” As it turns out, the Alamo is a little hole in the wall (literally, it’s a wall, and in the wall there’s a hole) in the middle of a business area. I was more impressed by the Haagen-Daas across the street. It’s hard to see how a pile of bricks inspired one of the best known battle cries of the day (“Let’s Go Spurs!”).
So, having seen everything in San Antonio, we decided to look at some other parts of Texas. That’s when we discovered another thing about Texas: Everything is really far apart. Coming from a small island where four hours driving takes you in a complete circle around the island (and we’re the Big Island, imagine the smaller ones), we were unable to comprehend the concept of driving four hours one way to go see some old rockets in Houston (which is what we did).
Of course, the long drives were good for somebody. My sister, being a girl, wanted to see deer and armadillos. So you can imagine her joy when she saw tons of them… splattered on the side of the road. My dad and I played guess the road kill whenever we were on long drives (among other things we saw deer, armadillos, possums, porcupines, cats, raccoons, and the remains of several Dallas Cowboys).
“Hey, that looks like a deer.”
“Hey, there’s another over there… oh wait, that’s the other half.”
My mother of course decided that she wanted to get a picture of the dead animals, and asked us to pull over so we could see them. However, the rest of the car decided that we did not want to walk around next to a busy interstate long enough to join Bambi as the special of the day at the Alamo Café, so as usual we ignored her and kept driving.
Overall, Texas was an interesting experience, and I got to see the family, so that was nice. But the best thing about the trip is that we don’t need to visit for another 15 years at least. Now it’s their turn to come to Hawaii. Here’s hoping they have a little less trouble navigating the Queen Kaahumanu Highway than we did I-10 East.
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